“No one knows,” Liam sighed. I could see so many emotions pass over his expression as he paused in thought. Anger. Hurt. Pain. Rage. Sadness, “…He just…snapped. No one saw it coming.”
A psychotic break, maybe? That would explain why everyone referred to Drustan as mad, even though he didn’t seem soduring our brief interaction together. Beyond barely reacting to getting stabbed, that is.
I frowned, but Liam continued speaking, staring at his water bottle as he did, “Our families were close. Being children of political leaders, we were pretty much raised together. Me, Fergus, and…Drustan.” Liam’s lips grimaced just from uttering his name. “This was a little over a decade ago. Right as the three of us were becoming adults. Everyone was at my parents’ estate. The nereid royals with Fergus and his siblings. The siren royals, who were just Ilia, Drustan, and Drustan’s cousin; the female he brought to Fergus’s ball.” A weird, very inappropriate relief filled my core at the knowledge that the woman was Drustan’s cousin, and I forced myself not to dwell on that piece of information as Liam continued, “Everyone was celebrating my sister’s future on the throne. After we had gone to bed, I suddenly woke to the sound of my parents screaming.” Rocks formed in my gut, watching Liam inhale a breath of what looked like determination as he lifted his gaze to continue the story. “After finding their guards disemboweled in the hallway, I stormed into their chambers with Fergus. We found Drustan standing over my parents’ bed with—with—” Liam’s lips twisted in disgust as he scraped a hand down his face. “…their hearts in his claws.”
I blinked at him, throwing a shocked look toward Audrey. She gave me the barest nod of confirmation as she squeezed Liam’s forearm in a small attempt to comfort him.
“…In his…claws?” I asked. Drustan didn’t have claws. He had normal, slender, human-like fingers with veins that circled up his wrists, down his forearm?—
“Sirens have a specific…form.” Audrey sighed as she dropped her hold on Liam’s arm. In response, he scooted closer to her, as if missing her touch.
“And it involves claws?” I pressed.
“Yeah, black claws. Almost as long as their fingers themselves. Their eyes turn jet black, too. Sometimes black veins appear under their skin; it’s very…unsettling to see.”
“You’ve seen it?” I asked her. Drustan’s eyes had gone all black a couple of times during those fleeting moments in the hallway of Fergus’s palace. I suppressed a shiver from the memory of those dark eyes.
“I’ve seen other sirens show it to me, like, as a party trick. But it’s still nerve-wracking to witness.”
I hummed at that, letting a few quiet moments settle between the three of us. The sound of cars in the distance, driving along PCH, echoed in the worn walls of the warehouse.
“Seems like a fair reason to get sent to the Gravhune,” I muttered. Drustan killed two people—political leaders. “And he wasn’t supposed to leave?”
“Nobody expected him to live long enough to,” Audrey replied.
I blinked at her. “What does that mean?”
“The magic of the Gravhune is cruel,” Liam explained. “You enter the Gravhune, and your own mind turns on you. You see things that aren’t there. You remember things incorrectly; the mental torture begins within minutes of entering the darkness.”
Well, shit.
“People end up taking their own lives if they don’t kill their prison mates first,” Audrey murmured. “It’s where they send the worst criminals. The most dangerous Hyvenmerians.”
Liam nodded, “However…Drustan crawled out after completing his five-year sentence.”
“And you all just like…let that happen?”
“He waited out his sentence.” Audrey frowned, before lifting her hand and splaying her fingers. “The sentence to the Gravhune is five years, knowing that no one has lasted more than one. Drustan, however…”
Whoa.
“He lasted all five years.”
I understood the challenge of fighting your own mind. Having your brain work against you more than most. Of your mind unexpectedly summoning trauma and memories you’d rather forget. I couldn’t imagine having a constant stream of that for a day, let alone five straight years.
What inspires a person to survive the Gravhune?
“He crawled out, looking like hell,” Liam murmured, and I recalled the footage of a mangled Drustan doing so. “And announced that he fulfilled his sentence. How he even kept track of time is beyond me. Time isn’t linear there. It’s part of the torture.”
“Goddamn.” I shook my head in shock. “So what did everyone do?”
“What could we do? He paid the punishment for his crime. Laws between our lands don’t account for whether someonecompletesfive years in the Gravhune. It only accounts forsendingpeople there. We had no choice but to let him back into society. He has since been referred to as the Mad Siren Prince.”
I widened my eyes. A murderer was just…walking around. Crashing nereid birthday parties. Pinning me against the wall. Trying to seduce me. Were his eyes changing to black because he wanted to kill me? Did they go back and forth because of the mental and emotional torture he endured for five straight years?
“This is crazy,” I giggled the words, though I didn’t actually feel humor in them. “I can’t believe he—he and I—” I felt Audrey’s hand on me before I glanced down to see her squeezing my shoulder.
“He didn’t hurt you?” Audrey asked me quietly. She had already asked me that question several times since that evening, but my answer was still the same.
