Page 64 of Siren's Salvation

Her hazel green eyes haunt me, that mischievous glint in them when she's about to say something wickedly funny.

The way her athletic body moves, all curves and grace, like she's always on the verge of breaking into a dance.

That colorful dragon tattoo snaking down her right arm, its tail intertwining with the Kraken below—both beautiful and fierce, just like her.

She's become an addiction, a craving I can't shake.

Like a moth to a flame, I'm drawn to her warmth, her light.

But I know the truth, even as I try to deny it.

Siren will never truly be mine.

She's too wild, too free-spirited to belong to anyone.

I tell myself she's mine in the moments we're together, when her brunette hair is splayed across my pillow and her blunt honesty cuts through all my bullshit.

But the reality is, she's like her name—a Siren, luring me in only to dash me against the rocks.

"Fuck," I mutter, stabbing at a piece of chicken with more force than necessary.

"Something bothering you, brother?"

I look up to see Cobra sliding into the seat across from me, his own plate piled high with food. His eyebrow is raised, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Nah, just... thinking," I reply, trying to shake off my melancholy.

Cobra snorts. "Dangerous pastime, that. Especially when it's about a woman."

I'm about to deny it when he leans in, his voice dropping. "You hear?"

The sudden change in his tone has me on alert. "Hear what?"

Cobra chuckles, but there's no humor in it.

His eyes dart around the clubhouse before he leans in closer, his voice low and gritty. "Bitch wasn't lyin'. Fuckin' psychopath."

My stomach tightens.

I know exactly who he's talking about.

Sassy.

The pregnant girl Zane's been keeping captive.

I set my fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore.

"So now," Cobra continues, "Zane's gonna do what he said—keep her alive until that baby comes, then off the cunt."

The casual way he talks about murder makes my skin crawl.

I've seen some shit in my time with the Reapers Rejects, but this?

This is a whole new level of fucked up.

Not like she doesn’t deserve it, though.

"What about the kid?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. "They gonna drop it off at a firehouse or somethin'?"

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