Page 15 of Siren in the Rain

The giant—Dallas—shakes his head. “Time and place, kid. We need to deal with other things first, then you can work your calming mojo some more. Worry about courting him after all that.”

I press myself into the farthest corner of the bed and scowl at all of them. “I ask, once again, who the hell are you bunch of weirdos?”

For some reason, my anxiety ratchets back up and I find myself missing Wolf Boy’s soothing pets.

Dammit.

An elegant vampire steps forward. “Please accept my apologies on behalf of my team. We’re part of a secret organization that works to recover missing and endangered Otherkind. I’m Harper Willoughby, our undercover specialist and vampire extraordinaire.” He points to the massive man holding the delusional Wolf Boy. “This is Dallas Carter, our team captain, and a member of the Bearkin people.” He points to the other two. “That’s Ruby Briarwood, our elemental witch and healer. And next to her is Callum Keating, our mage.” He sighs and turns back to the golden-haired Wolf Boy. “And last, but not least, this is Griffin McIntyre, our talented empathic magic user and a Wolfkin.”

Empathic magic? I’ve heard a little about that before. Is that why I feel so good when he touches me?

“Also your fated mate,” Griffin adds with bright, shiny amber eyes and an expression so hopeful it makes my heart tap out a weird little thumpity-thump in my chest.

Okay, forget his good touchy-feelies. They’re not worth it. I refuse to belong to anyone ever again.

And certainly never as a fated mate. I saw where that got my mother, after all.

I shake my head. “Never gonna happen. Sorry.”

Griffin’s expression falters but then he seems to rally. “I’ll convince you.” His ears twitch and his tail flicks in time to a beat only he can hear.

“Let’s get back to that later,” Dallas interjects, much to my relief. “First, we need to see about getting that collar off your neck.”

At those words, my heart leaps in my chest with equal parts hope and fear.

“It’s enchanted. I was told only the person who put it on me could ever remove it without… killing me.”

I hate how weak and vulnerable my voice sounds all of a sudden.

Fuck this fucking collar!

I don’t like being stuck with this thing, but I’m also rather attached to being alive, especially after finally escaping from hell.

Wolf Boy starts to make a canine-like whining noise in the back of his throat.

“Take it down a notch, Griff.” The white-haired mage, Callum, moves closer. “This is where I come in. May I examine the collar?”

I swallow thickly but nod and brace myself.

He reaches out a hand and gently touches a single fingertip to the metal. I inhale sharply at the twinge of pain that slight contact produces but remain still.

Wolf Boy makes an even more distressed noise. “It hurts him, Cal. So bad.”

He can feel that?

A dark look passes over the mage’s face. “You’re part fae?”

“Half-siren,” I admit.

“Motherfucking bastards,” he curses darkly. “How long have you been forced to wear this barbaric torture device?”

After a long pause, I tell him, “Seven years.”

My voice sounds as hollow as I feel. These past seven years have felt more like seventy.

The energy in the room changes and I sense murderous intent all around. I press my injured body harder into my corner, twitching all over but ready to fight to survive if I have to.

I’m so damn tired though. Tired of the abuse, tired of the fear, and tired of the pain. I can’t do it any longer. I’ve hit my limit.

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