Tiberius never allowed his slaves to sing. We could hum to soothe our Divines, keep the magic inside our veins alive, but singing was reserved for the elites… and look where that left me.
I’m a siren without a song. A mockery of my kind.
And maybe that’s all I’ll ever be.
23. A fragile start
Dean
Something reaches me through the darkness… a hum, a call I can never ignore. It pulls at my awareness before I even open my eyes. Like my body knows something’s wrong before my mind catches up.
Hazel.
Even in sleep, I know it’s her. I’d know my mate’s call anywhere.
The low hum settles in my chest, tugging at my Divine. I’ve never heard anything like this before. Usually, Hazel’s tunes are soft, content, peaceful enough to wrap around my heart and tell me she’s happy without words. But this… this is the saddest tune I’ve ever heard.
It sounds like a cry of pain.
It prickles against my skin like needles. A strange pain crawls up my legs as I sit up on the mattress, trying to make sense of what I’m hearing.
I reach for Hazel, but only tangled sheets meet my hands. I quickly sit up, flipping on the lamp to find her bed empty.
Where is she?
There’s no sound coming from the bathroom, nothing from downstairs either, which means she’s not in the castle anymore.
I glance at the clock. 2 a.m.
I link the warriors on shift, but no one has seen Hazel since her last check-in. She’s always working, so if she’s not there, then where the fuck is my mate?
A cold edge of panic slips under skin.
I need to find her.Now.
Her hum cuts through my panic, reminding me I have a way to find her right here. The thread that binds us together.
I don’t waste another second. I bolt out of the room, chasing the sound down the stairs and through the back of the castle.
Her tune feels alive inside me, guiding me to where she is. But when it leads me to the waterfall out back, doubt creeps in.
What would she be doing out here in the middle of the night?
Before I can turn around and think of another way to find her, I see a shadow move in the water. Is that…?
No. It can’t be.
She’s in the water. What the hell is she doing there at this hour? It’s fucking freezing.
I move closer until the moonlight exposes her figure drifting in the water. My foot nudges something, and when I look down, I find a pile of clothes and a towel on the ground.
I pick up the soft white top, Hazel’s scent still clinging to it. She was wearing this when she went to sleep.
Does that mean she’s… naked in there? I know she’s a siren, but the wind’s picked up, and it’s the middle of winter. This cannot be safe.
I really hope this isn’t her idea of fun because nothing about this feels right.
Hazel jerks, and I catch a better glimpse of her bare back facing me, smooth shoulders slick with damp hair. The water around her shimmers, like it’s come alive under her touch.
