Page 41 of Siren in the Rain

“Sorry. I don’t know how to feel about it. Confused, mostly. I haven’t seen any of my mother’s family since I was quite young. Honestly, I don’t remember any of them. I have some vague recollections of an island, but that’s about it. Part of me is angry too. Where have they been all this time? Why weren’t they looking for me or my mother?” I huff. “I’m not sure I really want to try to rekindle some kind of connection with them now just because they’re related to me by blood.”

“Hmm. I see your point. However, do you think there might be some value in spending time with other sirens and learning more about your culture? After all, your mother died when you were quite young, and you were never able to learn more about the siren culture taught when our kind enters puberty and adulthood. For instance, you have not been tested to ascertain your magical gifts yet. Although you have clearly learned to use a little bit of your sirensong, you may not be fully aware of what effects your songs can have. No sirensong is entirely the same—and yours has been inhibited for most of your life by the power-restraining effects of that collar you were forced to wear.”

My hand automatically goes up to feel my neck in response to her words.

I find myself touching my throat often these days, tracing the scar there. While it’s a horrific reminder of that sadistic device, it’s also oddly reassuring. With every touch, I am reminded that the collar is gone and all that remains is the mark it left on my skin.

I think about Dr. Greenwater’s words. “I suppose I’d like to learn more about my people. And my powers.” I frown. “Although I don’t know how receptive my mother’s sept is to half-sirens like myself. I certainly haven’t found a lot of acceptance among humanity.”

Dr. Greenwater smiles sadly. “It’s true. Many on both sides of the equation are ignorant and prejudiced toward those who are different. Some Otherkind reject interspecies relationships and the offspring that can result from them, but that is not the case for everyone. I would encourage you to go into meeting your mother’s family with an open mind. You can probably bring Griffin with you to back you up. Your other new friends might want to stay by your side to support and protect you too. Remember, you’re not alone anymore.”

Friends? Is that what they are? I don’t know yet. It’s only been a week, but I can say that everyone in the compound has welcomed me with open arms. I’m slowly getting to know each of them a little better, but I still find it hard to spend long periods of time talking with people. After so many years with only Haku as my daily companion, I struggle to interact with others for more than short bursts of time here and there. The only one I seem to tolerate is Griffin, who follows me everywhere with eager-puppy energy.

Why he’s the exception to the rule for just about everything with me, I refuse to contemplate—and I sure as shit don’t want to hear any of the fated-mate nonsense that he or others might want to spout in response. That can’t possibly be the reason.

I blame it entirely on his stupidly cute physiognomy instead. Who can say no to that face? Or those ears and tail?

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it

“How has the medication the doctor prescribed for you been working?”

“It’s only been a couple of days. It seems like my anxiety is less constant, but beyond that, I don’t know.”

I also wonder how much Griffin’s SCSS, as he calls it, is playing a part in that. Secretly, I suspect it’s doing a hell of a lot more than the meds are.

She nods and jots something down on her clipboard. “It’ll take a while for the antidepressants to start working in your system. Give them time.”

I scowl again. “Still don’t know that I’d describe myself as being depressed.”

She smiles kindly. “The medication you’re on is often prescribed as an antidepressant but also is used to assist those with PTSD. It can help with a variety of symptoms.”

I shut my mouth, biting back a protest.

Her expression becomes firm. “Anyone who experienced what you did would have PTSD of some kind, Shae. It’s not something to be ashamed of. To be honest, your mental fortitude and endurance are stronger than many patients I’ve worked with. But that same strength that protected you in tough times can also close you off from others now. I hope that in time you will learn to be able to trust again, find friends and loved ones who will be there for you and be a crucial support network in your life, even if that isn’t the people in this household. I don’t want you to isolate yourself through a desire to protect yourself.”

I chuckle. “Wolf Boy—I mean, Griffin—wouldn’t let me do that even if I want to.”

She smirks. “Tell me why you think that is.”

I walked right into that one, didn’t I?

I consider for a moment. “He’s stupidly optimistic and has so much energy that it makes me exhausted just looking at him sometimes. But he’s also probably the most sincere, earnest person I’ve ever met. He seems to care about me a lot, although I don’t have the foggiest idea why.”

My brain stutters over that memory of him telling me he loves me and I bring my knees up to my chest. “He said he loves me, but that’s preposterous. He barely knows me! Is that how this fated-mates bullshit is supposed to work? Instalove?” I scoff. “Talk about ridiculous. That’s something out of a fairy tale or romance novel, not reality.”

“You don’t believe in love at first sight?”

“Fuck no. I don’t know that I believe in love, period.”

Dr. Greenwater nods solemnly. “You certainly haven’t seen many examples of healthy love in your life.”

No shit.

Her eyes soften. “What about your mother? She loved you, didn’t she?”

I feel a deep twinge of pain in my chest. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice hoarse. “She did, but it didn’t save her in the end. And it certainly didn’t save me.”

“Maybe not in the ways you think, but her love has stayed with you even long after her passing.”

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