Now that Hazel is the only one left, I wait for her to enlighten me on how she feels about the mate bond. Maybe she would reveal something about being a siren too, like a secret ritual or a tradition.
The stubborn siren ignores my burning gaze, but I don’t give up until my persistence irritates her enough to talk. Scrunchingher nose in annoyance, she twists her head in my direction and finally gives in.
“Don’t have one.” The lie is as transparent as the wall I almost smashed my face in this morning.
What’s with women in this group believing they don’t have mates?
“She doesn’t mean it,” Anxo shushes her.
“Uh, yes I do. I would’ve found them already otherwise. They’re probably deep in the fucking ocean, happy with theirchosen matesince I’m here on the dusty surface and out of fucking reach.” Her voice grows tighter the more she speaks—more like grumbles.
Things I’ve noticed about people who are supposed to be my fate family.
Anxo shows love and care by touching.
Once Seiji starts talking, there’s no stopping him.
Grace is only quiet in the beginning but timid overall.
Hazel hates showing weakness.
The more I observe Hazel, the more I can relate to her on a deeper level. How she keeps her daggers close is more than her love for the weapon; it’s a telltale sign of someone expecting disaster. She keeps scanning the glass walls and listening for the chime of the elevator opening to this floor, and I know that because I’m doing it, too.
My twitchy fingers and paranoid alertness are caught by Angel quickly, but Hazel is so subtle with her fear that I almost missed it, too.
That makes me wonder if this is permanent. Hazel shares my nerves and panic three years after living with the Horsemen and being a strong warrior, so it must mean the fear doesn’t leave—not entirely, at least.
It’s terrifying how watching Hazel sulk makes me want to do something to lift her spirits.Too many changes are probably destroying my brain.For now, I need a distraction from counting every guest that enters this building, and so does she.
“Oh… now it makes sense. You’re all grouchy because you want a mate,” I coo in the baby voice I use with my little monkey sometimes. Judging by how Hazel fumes, I’d say my noble plan to lift her mood is a success.
“If I knew a way to hurt you without hurting Anxo, I would’ve punched you hours ago.”
She is trying her best to hide it, but I can still see the slight twitch of her lips. She likes me, I know it.
“Sure,water fairy.”
“Donotcompare me to those emotional sissies.”
“Isn’t it a little weird how Nevaeh wasmadeand notborn? Like no one pushed her out of herVa-jay-jay,” Grace squeaks, interrupting Hazel’s grumbling about water fairies.
“Ew, why are you calling itva-jay-jay, nerd?” Hazel scowls at Grace, who sheepishly shrugs.
“Yeah, just saycoochielike normal people.”
“That’s not what normal people call it, fucktard! It’s called avagina.” Hazel corrects Seiji, who still refuses to repeat the word ‘vagina’ because it makes him feel queasy.
The debate on what the right name for the female private part should be ended with Seiji running for his life and Hazel on his toes, yelling how she is going to ‘choke the stupidity out of him’ today.
With no signs of slowing down, Angel tiredly trudges to the middle of the living room, and Seiji immediately hides behind him—refuge from the killer siren.
“Drop it. I don’t want another kingdom to manage. I’m barely surviving three as it is.” The stern order makes both overgrown kids huff and reluctantly sit in different corners of the room.
I can’t pay attention to how parental that was of Anxo because something he said causes a streak of questions to line up in my head.
“Three kingdoms?”
Suddenly, the room falls silent. Both Seiji and Hazel drop their fight and turn to me with wide, horrified eyes.
