I try to stay awake, try to rouse so I can ask what’s wrong, but I’m so tired. He’s so comfortable and warm.
“Strange creature, where are you from?”
I try to answer him, but I’m pulled into oblivion, my exhaustion and this safe feeling stealing me away from myself.
Chapter 2
Lirin
Past
They come out of the waves like they are bringing the heart of the ocean with them, an aggressive vengeance-filled heart ready to kill anything that moves. I wait, already regretting what’s going to happen. My gaze is glued to the path, watching as they appear one by one. Menacing, dangerous, deadly. We own the Black Death Oceans, the space between the worlds, but can only walk with two legs on this tiny island. It’s barely the size of a small village, the cruelty is not lost on any of us.
We call each other brothers, but we’re only brothers in this hellish prison we’ve been dumped in. None of us knew each other before the twisted magic that changed us into sirens was cast upon us. There is no shared blood, just shared suffering but for eons that has been more than enough. It’s us against all the worlds.
Ronit is as much my brother as he is my lover. We’re family in this war against the ocean, in our desire and need to escape. Heleads, and we follow. This one time, I wish I was strong enough to stop him.
His long red hair hangs in wet clumps around him as he approaches, his discerning gaze flying straight to the little monster in my lap. Of all of us, his hair has more orange in it, making it look less like blood and more like rust. His eyes are a pale, eerie gold holding the haunting rage that has burned since he was betrayed. Ronit’s got stubble on his jaw, so he appears feral and unlike the Fae we were. The muscular body he earned from years as one of the Fae Warrior Generals has not left him. But all these years of isolation have only driven him colder and harder, cruelty has sharpened him into the most deadly of weapons.
We kill because we have to. The curse won’t let us stop. Anything that is a threat to the worlds has to be eliminated. I barely remember my life as a Fae; now I am just a Siren, and as a Siren, I am nothing but a slave to the intentions that were woven into the magic that cursed us.
He kneels before me, putting us at eye level. “You live.” He grips my hand, only the tremble of his fingers betrays how distraught he is. The depth of feeling vibrates through our bond.
“Yes,” I murmur, swallowing the grief and relief, “thanks to this strange creature.”
He reaches out but doesn’t touch her. His fingers hold in the air above her head. He wants to touch her, but he won’t allow himself to. Ronit never allows himself comfort. The job always comes first.
“What is it?” he says at last.
I look down at her, feeling oddly protective. “I don’t know.”
“We can’t allow it to live,” Ronit reminds me. “She has too much magic.”
“I don’t think she’s a threat,” I protest, though I know it’s useless.
“Anyone with that kind of magic is a threat,” Brio says as he appears. Brio was a master composer with long, delicate fingers and a talent that became legend. He could master any song, any note, any instrument. Music was his life. Until they stole it from him.
His hair is blood red and hangs to his waist with a slight curl. His eyes are a deep, dark honey, and he’s got pale freckles that only add to his delicate allure. Of all of us, though I would never say it to his face, Brio is the most broken by our new existence.
What good is a musician without an audience?
“She saved me. I thought she would end things, but instead, she risked her life to give me mine. She’s not a threat…she’s cute,” I try to explain. This tide of panic isn’t normal, and I have to fight to hide it from them.
Scoffs come from Ronit and Brio.
I tense, staring up at them, begging silently for them to listen to me. To help me fight the magic that will spill her blood into the ocean. Feeding it like all others have before her.
“Look, just listen-”
Brio reaches for the veil and draws back in shock. “Blind. She can barely even survive. Put it out of its misery, Lirin, and come back to the oceans.”
“It would really be a mercy. She wouldn’t be able to find food or eat. Something much more horrible will get her,” Ronit murmurs, and I think, perhaps, he knows the truth I’m trying to hide.
I protest, the sound coming deep from my throat.
“They’re right, it’s not worth the chance,” Reed says, cocking his head as he drops into a crouch to look at her. His hair is cut short around his face and is a deeper red, with mahogany streaks. Reed is emotional and angry, and it shows in the inky stripes that appear and fade on his skin when he feels deep emotions. He was dragged from the bed of his lover and into thishell. His almost-black eyes take in everything with a predator’s precision. He doesn’t trust anyone but our shiver.
“She saved me,” I growl, getting angry at them. I might be the youngest and have very few memories of where we came from, but I still have a voice.
