It is all easier said than done.
The wind whips my hair across my face while I stare out at the gray ocean, its color reflecting the morose storm clouds above it. Another chilly gust scrapes along my nose, and I’m grateful Eve insisted I wear a velvet long-sleeved dress today, the dark blue material warding off the cold everywhere it covers me.
I wipe my palms on my dress, the soft material soothing, as King Dolian adjusts the crown on his head. He stands to my left, a whole step ahead of me and everyone else here, as if the crown alone isn’t enough to differentiate himself. As if the sirens are unaware of who he is. Though I hate to acknowledge his presence at all, Ihavestudied the way my uncle presents himself both in the residence and outside of it when speaking to others. His posture is always perfect, his look the same elegant, refined royal taste I have come to know. But in fleeting moments, ones I was sure he didn’t realize he showed, I saw beneath the façade to a small and lonely man with a twisted viewpoint on the world and enough power to change it for the worse. I know he thinks this kingdom owes him something because of what happened between him, my mother, and my father. And I harbor zero doubts that he will do whatever it takes to claim everything he wants, including me.
But even now, as he stares out at the choppy ocean waiting for Queen Amari, I see the nerves that he tries to hide. He spins the ring matching mine on his finger, rolling his shoulders back for the tenth time since we arrived on this freezing beach. I should delight in the fact that there is somebody out there who has this effect on him, but all I can think about is her last visit. The way Queen Amari had relished watching me kill those guards. I wonder if King Dolian’s unease is a sign that the siren queen holds much more sway over him than anyone realizes.
Xander stands to my right, dressed in his golden armor with enough weapons strapped to him that it’s a marvel he can walk properly. In sand no less. Behind us stands the Spell and, behind that, a line of guards only ten across. I can feel their gazes at my back, their silent judgment making me fidget to the point that Xander turns his head to look at me. I had killed so many guards the last time, ones I imagined were friends of those behind me. I can’t blame any of them for the glares.
“They’re fuckinglate,” the king growls, tugging on his vest, its color abhorrently matching my dress.
Simon is noticeably absent, left at the front door to see us off with orders to ensure our boat is ready to leave by tomorrow afternoon. The carriage ride had been a bumpy one, my knee constantly hitting into the king’s no matter which way I positioned my body. Each touch—no matter the layers of clothing between us—did nothing but send revulsion through me and make the brand on my hip itch with awareness. I hate the mark, hate the man who gave it to me. Hate that I’m trapped here, a mouse scurrying in a maze only to find dead end after dead end.
I don’t realize how hard I’m gritting my teeth together until pain shoots up my temple.
There is an audible gasp behind me, and when I cast my gaze out to the sea, I see three heads rise from the water. I watch in awe as the sirens emerge, their transformation a waterfall effect that starts at the crowns of their heads and moves over their bodies with ease. Their scales seem toretreatinto their bodies, leaving only the faintest glimmer of color over their dark brown skin. While the queen and the one standing to her left have curls in long strands that cover their chests, the bright pink hair of the siren on the right only just touches her collarbones. Her expression is one of boredom, as if making an entrance onto the beach completely nude is part of a normal day for her.
Maybe it is.
“Your Majesty,” King Dolian says, his posture stiff as he stares at the queen. She gives him a brilliant smile in return, one that neither reaches her eyes nor reads as anything remotely sincere.
“King Dolian, thank you for meeting us here.” Her eyes land on me, a callousness in them that makes me go rigid. I once read that there are parts of the ocean untouched by the sun, places so dark and deep that not even the sirens had ever dared to explore them. That’s what her gaze reminds of—a place devoid oflight. “And for bringing Lady Rhea.”
“It is a pleasure to see you, of course,” the king says coolly, cocking his head to the side. “But I am curious what is so important that you need to speak in person instead of through the Mirrors.” The queen’s eyes snap back to his as she flattens her lips. The ruby-haired siren to her left works a rough swallow down her throat.
“Watch your tongue, Mortal King. I have killed men for far less.”
“Kill me, and all of our deals become void,” he retorts, sliding his hands into his pockets. Xander adjusts his stance at my side, the creaking of his armor drawing the gazes of both sirens that flank the queen. I study them, bouncing my attention back and forth. The pink-haired siren’s features are harsher, her bright pink eyes boring into Xander’s while her sharp jaw clenches. It’s a look that mimics the queen’s, and it makes me wonder if they are related. The other siren’s eyes don’t match her hair, their orange hue similar to the king’s. Her features are softer, and dark freckles pepper her cheeks. When her gaze meets mine, there is no malice or even curiosity there. All I see is the same trepidation reflected on her face that I feel inside.
“Luckily for us both, killing you isnotin my best interest. Not yet anyway.” The queen grips her trident—a dark golden weapontipped with jagged-looking diamonds larger than my arm—flipping it so that the sharp ends point directly at the king. The sound of blades sliding from their sheaths slices the air behind me, but Xander holds out a hand, halting the guards’ reactions to the threat. “Look at how they react so strongly to protect you. What aloyalarmy you have.”
King Dolian says nothing, his posture still like a statue though his hands flex where he’s stuffed them in his pockets. “They do as they are told.”
“As all soldiers should.” Despite the sea and wind dancing around us, the queen projects her voice loudly enough to be heard. “Did you know that we keep a legion under the sea?”
Xander’s hand drops to one of his sheathed swords, his fingers squeezing the hilt. The pink-haired siren traces the movement, baring her teeth at him in warning.
“I’m not foolish enough to assume a realm—even one beneath the surface—would leave themselves vulnerable should this damned Spell ever come down,” Dolian replies.
“The Spell,” Queen Amari repeats slowly, looking at where it gleams behind me. “Such a troublesome nuisance, isn’t it? One would think that, in the two hundred years since it was cast, a mage would have been able to bring it down.” Those terrifying eyes move to me again. “Though why would they test something that is of no consequence to them?”
My heart pounds in my chest, panic filtering in the longer her question lingers between us. Of course, she knows the mages’ secret. She would have known the moment she saw me use my magic on the beach. It’s the way she looks at me, as if I’m something to bedevoured. Something that she can sink her sharp black talons into and claw away at until I’m nothing but pieces for her to use. King Dolian clears his throat, taking a small sidestep so that he partially obscures me from her.
“What are you getting at?” he asks.
The queen just smirks, the strands of her midnight hair stirring as a powerful gust of wind rolls off the ocean. Then she lifts her trident high in the air, sunlight catching the diamond tips and casting small flares of rainbow light onto the sand. Again, the guards stir behind me. Again, Xander holds off their response. With the king’s new position in front of me, I can’t see the pink-haired siren, but I can see the other one. She watches the queen with intense concentration, her talons gently scraping her hips in quick motions.
“Gods above,” one of the guards behind me says, the sentiment echoed throughout the group and even by Xander, his softly murmured curse only barely hitting my ears.
When I lean a little to the side to have a clear view of the ocean, I gasp too, though I’m unsure of what I’m actually looking at. It starts out with tan-colored points rising above the thrashing water line before they grow into giant…shells. The kind I had only ever seen drawn in books. They are larger than I could have possibly imagined, and it isn’t until they rise about a foot from the water that I realize there is apersonbeneath. Like some sort of macabre helmet, the shells—variations of brown and tan and white—mask the sirens’ heads and some of their faces as they rise from the ocean, transforming into their mortal forms beneath what appears to be shellarmor.
The king takes a step back, his hand wrapping around my wrist. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Do not panic, dear king,” Queen Amari cajoles, walking until she is only a hand’s width away from him. He keeps his gaze keenly on her face, though he squeezes my wrist so tightly my fingers flex from the pain. “They are not here to harm you.”
Row after row of armored sirens emerge from the sea, an entirearmyof them. The females, each with the same soft curves as the queen and her companions, wear expressions that suck the air right from my chest. By the time they finish liningthe beach, I count upwards of fifty sirens. Almost all of them hold metal spears while a select few carry miniature tridents, andallof them send us steely jewel-colored glares.
“Bring your fiancée forward,” the queen says, dropping her voice lower. King Dolian, to my astonishment, obeys immediately. He tugs me a single step forward until I’m right at his side, his grip growing tighter. I hiss a breath out through my teeth and attempt to pull away from him to no avail. The queen’s mouth curves deviantly. “You will let the girl go.”
