Page 29 of Siren's Treasure

Thessa stumbled over her feet, seeking his eyes. They were crinkled at the sides with deep laugh lines. Why was that funny? “She is to be your wife?”

“Not if I can help it, but women have a tendency to be blindsided by my charm… as you say.”

He was deliberately provoking her again. “I imagine she’d like her children to inherit your royal powers.”

“You don’t say?” There was a teasing glint in his eyes. “And here I thought it was true love.” She felt a smile play on her lips in response. “It’s okay, Clam,” he said. “She’s got nothing on us.”

That almost made her trip again! He was impossible, and still her heart was reacting in ways that she sternly told to stop.And stop that smile too!So, he didn’t work for Circe! That didn’t mean that he wasn’t out for himself and trying to play her like shell chimes. And tell that to her mouth! It had gone rogue and she couldn’t stop the widening curve.

The scoundrel! Raggon was different from anyone she’d ever met—man or merfolk! His inviting smiles, his captivating touch, were all parts of his arsenal to get what he wanted. Nothing dimmed the fire in his soul on his way to the Undine Blade.

The smell of breakfast tormented her, though the thing they called gruel looked watery and had a strange tint to it. The men they passed ate it steadily with grim determination.

Raggon disappeared from her side in an instant. He reappeared with a bowl of the stuff in his hands. “Hungry?” he whispered into her ear, closer now, the heat of his body radiating toward her like a tide she couldn’t resist. Steam rose from the bowls in lazy curls, carrying an aroma that was both foreign and strangely appealing—nutty and earthy with hints of salt. “Would you like me to feed you too?” he asked.

She batted him away, though she clutched to the bowl with desperation. How bad could it possibly be? Her gaze trailed to the odd consistency—thick in places, watery in others, with mysterious dark specks throughout. She lifted the spoon to her lips, the unfamiliar metal cool against her mouth.

The rich salty taste exploded across her tongue—the texture was strange, both smooth and gritty at once, nothing like the delicate flavors of sea vegetation and raw fish she liked. These people were an odd people, their ways strange, and sometimes frightening.

She couldn’t allow herself to get lost in this world.

“Raggon!” Morris had returned and this time, his face held a look of warning. “I need a word with you at once.”

Raggon straightened from her, the dark linen of his shirt billowing in the wind, sleeves rolled to expose forearms corded with muscle and bronzed by the sun. Her eyes traced the line of veins visible beneath his skin, and as if to show her exactly what they could do, his grip tightened on her. Instead of allowing her to practice her walking, he practically carried her back to the longboat to sit. The other pirates let out sneering guffaws, August the loudest of them.

“Raggon!” she complained.

“Sorry, it’s urgent. I’ll let you walk when you can run.”

She bristled.

His black hair, untamed by the sea breeze, curled slightly at his nape where it escaped a leather cord. He gestured to a youngman standing near the forecastle, where ropes were coiled in neat piles. “Tobias!”

Answering the summons, the sailor approached with an easy gait, tall and lanky with a mop of chestnut hair falling over earnest brown eyes. That annoying parrot from the cabin sat proudly atop his shoulder, his opalescent wings caught the sunlight, making his feathers gleam like sapphires and emeralds, each color shifting and changing with every slight movement. “Pretty fish! Pretty fish!” The obsidian gaze seemed all-knowing as it fixed on her. “Walk the plank!”

She rolled her eyes. That bird had been the bane of her existence last night, flying around the room and warning of dead man’s bones and women being bad luck. Raggon had finally let it out with a curse and a shout that was frankly a relief.

“Tobias,” Raggon gestured at her. “I need you to keep an eye on this beautiful lady…”

Thessa didn’t fight the endearment,orthe verdict, noticing August creep closer at the hint that her protector was leaving her side. She felt so helpless when she couldn’t get away. “This is my brother,” Raggon explained.

Her gaze snapped back to the newcomer—Ah! She detected the royal similarities now, though Tobias was younger, leaner, not yet grown into a man. Despite that, he towered over most of them on the ship as he watched her, almost shyly. He settled next to her on the back of the lifeboat, making himself comfortable. “For the record, I think mermaids are great.”

She immediately warmed to him, though concern ate at her too. He was caught in his own prison—a fierce multi-alloy collar that made her heart ache to look at. Each breath made the eerie metals constrict tighter in a stranglehold.

“Are you really a daughter of Poseidon?”

“Huh?” Her eyes went back to his, seeing that he was attempting to make conversation. She swallowed. “Yes… he’s my father.”

“Well… Undine’s his sister. I think that makes us cousins?”

What was he talking about?

Raggon laughed. “No, we’re not related, even a little bit—Undine lived a long time ago. The blood of the Sea Sovereignty that flows in our veins has been diluted for more than a thousand years. We’re not exactly kissing cousins… more like thirty-eighth cousins a hundred times removed. Anyway, we’re more closely related to Morris than to her.”

“That’s kissing cousins… by definition.”

Raggon rolled his eyes and changed the subject: “Hey, look! A storm’s coming…”

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