He is unnatural. Uncomfortable. Forbidden.
He is terrifying.
And yet…I am keenly aware of his strong body pressed against mine as he holds me under my ribs with one arm. Our noses almost touching as he brushes his fingertips over my temple, pushing hair from floating into my face. My flesh is suddenly aflame, ignited by the barest of touches. He beholds me in the manner one would a god, as if the world starts and ends with me, here in this singular moment.
“A human…” His voice echoes between my ears, both arms circling me again. He defies the laws of nature to speak without moving his lips or hands. “You’re dying.”
I know this. It’s a wonder that I’m still conscious. I felt the eternal sleep settling upon me. But here I am…despite all odds.
“My song only stalls the inevitable. But, I could save you.”
What?The thought ripples across my mind. Soft. Unbidden.
A smirk slips across his lips and the shadows around his face shift, clinging to every ominous, almost sinister edge of his expression. He leans in. Closer. My back arches, flesh aching, as if it is all suddenly too tight. Hips and torso pressing into him as we tilt in the water and he devours me with his eyes.
Somehow, even as he speaks, his song continues to buzz in the back of my mind, smoothing over my worries and fears. Inviting me to sink into it—into him. I fight the urge. Blink furiously to try and keep my focus. I willnotgive in.
“Easy, easy,” he soothes. “One way or another, this will all be over soon. Either I save you. Or, I let you go and leave you to the sea.”
No… There has to be more.This can’t be the end.
“Very well. I will save you. But it will be at a great cost to me and my magic, so it will bear a steep price. In five years’ time, I will come to claim what is mine.”
Five years.
In five years I will be twenty-five, almost twenty-six. It seems like an eternity away. Five years to see the world with nothing holding me back. Five years of freedom. Or death.
“Do you accept?” Muscles ripple under the painted markings of his flesh as his arms tense around me. His fingers splay over the small of my back. Hot through the thin fabric of my dress.
Everything is a transaction, a barter. My life. My freedom. But this I’ve known for a long time. As impossible as this all seems…I see no other way. If I’m either dead now or in five years by the hand of the siren, it doesn’t make much of a difference.
I manage a nod.
“I knew you would,” he purrs across the back of my mind then begins to sing once more. The siren encases me in his song. It flows over me. Into me.
I’m flush against his strong body. The water no longer passes between us, but the current still does. Energy, essence…no, it must be raw magic that ebbs and flows between us, pulsing, continuing to keep me alive. It swells and rises. I gasp soundlessly, my head tilting back slightly, eyes fluttering closed, as if I am to join him in the song. The endless repetition of words that keep pace with my fluttering heart.
The ocean is salty on my tongue; my body tingles as though a thousand hands run over it—holding life to me. The siren leans forward, his tail curling around my legs. I am slipping further and further into the song-spell he has me under. My thoughts are fleeting. Soon my mind will be as empty but endless as the void of the ocean around us.
His right hand slides down my left arm, fingers burning in their wake. His left hand rises between my shoulder blades, cupping the back of my head. My eyes meet his and the last of the tension Charles wrought into my meager frame leaves me. I grab onto the siren’s strong, sculpted shoulders. I hold on for dear life and release everything else.
Bubbles rise around us. Air flows back into my nose. The sensation causes a giggle to burst in the back of my throat. It’s like I’m in a glass of sparkling wine. Rising higher, and higher, and higher, until—
My head breaks the surface of waves. I inhale sharply but only for a second before a wave crashes and I tumble back underneath. I roll, clothes twisting, knotting, his arms still around me. The ecstasy of his caress transforms into a searing pain that shoots down my left arm, like a hot brand wrapping around bare flesh. I hiss. My shoulder nearly pops from its socket. I catch one last glimpse of him—a halo of nearly white hair in the moonlight, floating amongst a dark sea. In a blink, he’s gone. The pressure around my wrist slides down my fingers and releases. The crunch of shell and sand heralds dry land.
I’m ashore.
Immediately my body revolts. I cough up seawater and the meager contents of my stomach. I heave until my throat is dry and throbbing. Abdomen spasming. I throw up until there is nothing left and I double over, collapsing back on the sand, waves lapping against my hand.
The moon is still overhead, watching. Waiting. Slowly, I recover enough to sit and stare out over the waves. Was the siren real? Or was it all a near-death dream? Kelp is knotted around me in place of his arms. I pause as I go to remove it.
Around my left forearm are swirls of magenta and gold. The former is nearly the shade of my dress and contrasts starkly with the hue of my skin; the latter nearly blends in. They are the same tattooed outlines that were on his right arm. A mirror.
I rub my flesh. The markings stay in place. Immune to my nails and seawater. It’s then I realize that my wedding band is gone, ripped from my finger. Horror combines with relief. The emotions are muted by the sounds that fill my mind, manifesting as words in the back of my mind, as I stare at those strange swirls:
“An offering,
Of life so fine,
