Page 43 of The Dark Sea Calls

“I’deatthem.” Her eyes darkened.

Horror stole my words, and I was unable to look away.

The Siren Queen nodded, happy that her words had evoked such a reaction. “Is King Irvine trustworthy?”

I licked my lips nervously. “Why are you asking me that question?”

“Do you ever have a thought that you don’t filter through a mire of fear?” The Siren Queen placed a clawed finger to her lips as she studied me. “Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, but never words. Tell me, child of Cruinn, answer my question. I can see the words on your tongue, yet to take shape. Does King Irvine fulfill his promises? Will he march to the Unseelie Kingdom, where I cannot go, and deliver my son’s killer to me?”

I saw the future laid out. The blood of fallen Sirens dispelled in the water of the Twilight Lake. I saw the Mer, Undine, and the Sirens clashing. I saw a battle play out in my mind's eye. There one moment and then gone in a blink—I had no idea if it was real. It felt like the moments I had sat on the High Throne and channeled its magic into casting myself across the water. Only I was seeing the future, not across a great distance.

And through it all, stood the shadow of the abyss surrounding Cruinn.

“I think that King Irvine wants a lot of Sídhe to die,” I admitted, unsure of how my mind had conjured such a thing. “I think he wants bloodshed, and you would be better served fighting your own war to reclaim the Dark Sea.”

The Siren Queen’s face was wiped clean of emotion. “I see.”

I had nothing else to say, so I remained silent.

The Siren Queen nodded once, standing up with all of the grace of the night sky, and drifted away.

Once the meal was done and Moira and I returned to our room with a jug of blood wine, I finally relaxed. My body sagged as if my strings had been cut.

Moira poured me a cup and pressed it into my fingers, and I pulled my blanket over my legs—wishing that I didn’t think of Rainn as I did so.

I wished I could give the blanket away, but something stopped me from leaving it behind. It followed me like a second skin. It had given me warmth in the darkest moments across the dried river when I had run from hell.

And I was going back.

Moira and I had settled down for an evening of childhood reminiscing when someone knocked on her door. We shared a look of confusion before I got up to answer it, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders like a hermit.

Pushing open the door, I came face-to-face with a host of Siren males. Each holding their own jugs of wine. Arden was most burdened, his arms full of loaves of bread and cheese.

They began to pile into the room without an invitation, each grinning as they passed me. Moira squeaked her excitement as she bolted to standing and grabbed the food from Arden’s arms. It was clear that though their appearance was a surprise, it was a pleasant one.

When all the winged males had entered, one male stood in the hallway. His arms crossed over his chest and a sheepish smile on his face.

Rainn.

My brows disappeared into my hairline.

He made no move to enter, and I stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind me, cutting off the sound of the building party.

I crossed my arms to mirror his stance. “I woke up alone,” I told him.

“I know.” His cautious smile dropped.

“I—” I interrupted myself and cleared my throat, searching for the words to put out into the world. I didn’t like being vulnerable. It felt like my soul was being pulled from my belly button at the idea of talking aboutfeelings, but I had to. I would go mad otherwise. “I thought last night meant—”

“It did,” Rainn rushed to say.

I glared at him, and he pressed his lips together, silently promising to let me speak.

“I thought it meant something. I thought that you wanted me. If it was some adrenaline-fueled bad decision made from almost dying, I need to know.” I sniffed dismissively as if he couldn’t break my heart. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“Maeve,” his eyes softened as he whispered my name. “You think I slept with you because you saved my life?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Back in the lake, with you and Tormalugh, I knew you were toying with me. I was a captive, and you wanted to show Cormac that I was not so easily claimed because he arrogantly declared I was his. You like pushing his buttons, and I accepted that I was just a tool to do that.”

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