“And?” he asks, one brow lifting as his arms fall by his sides. He is watching me far too closely.
I cross my arms over my chest and glance away.
“Lust.”
Sable chokes on his breath, styling it out by clearing his throat.
“And I’m not feeling any of those emotions right now,” I add, tapping my middle finger against my arm in a restless rhythm that gives me something to focus on.
He takes a slow, intentional step toward me.
“Are you sure about that? Because the glare you always shoot at me would set the average man on fire. Or cause him to drop dead right on the spot.”
“I don’t hate you,” I say, meeting his gaze again. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”
“That may be true,” he leans his head closer to mine to whisper, the temptation of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you hate how much you want me.”
I gasp, my fingers tightening around my arms until the pressure borders on pain. Heat spreads through me, anger first and foremost, rushing straight to my cheeks before I can stop it.
“I beg your pardon?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“You heard me,” he says, inching closer again, the half-smile on his face sharpening into a devilish grin. “A siren wanting apirate, imagine that. I bet you couldn’t compel me even if you wanted to.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching…”
The boards creak beneath his boots as he straightens his back and lifts his head, looking down at me, waiting for a response. A vibration sparks to life deep in my center. Small at first, then stronger with every word he speaks, like a flame being fed piece after piece of dry wood until it cannot be contained.
“Stop it.”
“And let’s not forget about my shadow,” he continues quietly, his voice slipping into something almost thoughtful. “How could you not realize it was me? I already told you that your instincts aren’t very sharp.”
Clamping my eyes shut tight, I draw in a slow breath and let it out through my nose, forcing the air past the humming that has begun to slink and coil behind my ribs. How dare he mention the shadow now. He knows exactly how betrayed I feel, how deeply it cut to realize I had formed a bond with an altered version of him without knowing the truth.
When I open my eyes again, the world seems sharper, as though everything has been brought back into focus, after so long in the dark. I feel the presence of the water beneath the ship as if it were part of me, its stillness pressing upward, its salt calling out to something ancient inside my chest. Sable stands close enough that I can feel the heat of him, the quiet danger of his proximity to me further fueling my hum. My inner siren responds before I can stop her, drawn to exactly what she knows she should avoid.
“And now,” he breathes, storm-grey eyes locked onto mine without fear or hesitation. “Sing for me, little fish.”
The nickname snaps something in me clean in two. I reach inward and gather the strings of my power one by one, curlingmy fists around them before pulling all at once. The tension folds my body at the center, forcing me to lean forward as my breath shudders and the song lodges painfully in my throat, refusing to come free.
“Steady.” His hand finds the small of my back, the other on my waist, holding me upright. His touch sends a pulse through me, sensation and power colliding until it feels like lightning skittering beneath my skin. “Don’t let it consume you. Control it.”
With Lark, it had been different. I had wanted to soothe, not command. Sable resists instinctively, as if he has built a wall of iron around himself, and I feel it in the air before I even give the song shape.
“Okay,” I whisper.
His hand only leaves once I’m steady on my own again.
I reach inward more carefully this time, coaxing out the humming power in my core instead of dragging it forward. One thread. Then another. I let them flow through me slowly, testing the balance, waiting until I’m sure they won’t overwhelm me before taking just a little more.
“You have to sing,” Sable whispers, a deep frown line settling between his eyes. “Give it a purpose. Make me do something. Whatever you want.”
The whimper that escapes me barely deserves to be called a note. I shake my head as the panic in me rises, and instead of letting go, I draw in more power than I should, my chest tightening as fear tangles with my power.
Sable takes my hand in his. “I trust you. And jumping overboard wouldn’t kill me here.” His thumb brushes over the back of my hand, sending a shiver through me. “Sing.”
So I do.
