Page 32 of Siren's Treasure

With a hoarse cry that seemed torn from the depths of his soul, he hurled August over the railing. The splash was swallowed by the waves as quickly as the short-lived rebellion he’d led. The gathered men scattered like startled fish, caps bobbing and heads bowing. Their earlier bravado had transformed into boots scraping against wood as they tried to appear busy with suddenly urgent ship duties.

Thessa found herself frozen, heart hammering against her ribs. Raggon was a killer who could transform from charming to lethal in the space of a heartbeat. And that devastating power had been unleashed in her defense. Could it be used against her too? Her skin prickled with gooseflesh.

His blue eyes, when they found hers, still burned with an intensity that made her catch her breath. They’d darkened to midnight, reflecting both rage and something else—something that made her quiver as he came for her next. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. “What’s this?” His fingers hovered just above the angry welt on her wrist. She was almost afraid to answer, and a muscle jumped in his jaw when the silence stretched between them. “Are you hurt, Clam?”

Clam again? And yet his voice had gentled, at odds with the storm still raging in his expression.

She managed a nod. The warmth of his fingers finally made contact with hers, sending a cascade of sensations through her—the sting of her wrist now mingled with a strange, tingling heat. She’d never been so confused. Her family were the only ones who came to her defense like this, and they’d never use their strength against her.

Would he? She knew next to nothing about this man.

Raggon turned to his brother, his fingertips still leaving traces of him against her skin. “Tobias?” The raw emotion that caught on that name made her throat tighten with unexpected sympathy. “Are you all right?”

Tobias nodded, moving his bleeding leg behind the longboat and from view. “Quit looking at me like you’re watching a corpse.” He rested his head against the bulwark. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah… sure…” Raggon didn’t look convinced.

She swallowed, not understanding why Tobias had been so willing to risk his life for her. These two were princes—rulers tothe enemies of her people. Had this kind of gallantry been the reason that Undine had fallen for their ancestor?

Raggon patted his brother’s arm. “Thanks for watching out for her.”

His brother smiled weakly in response. The rapport between the two revealed a map to Raggon’s soul, revealing every vulnerability that he’d tried to hide from her, and more, far more. She’d been wrong about this Shadow of the Tide. Power didn’t drive him. Not greed. Not ambition. Only love for his brother, perhaps even for others under his care. And that hidden compass transformed him from pirate to prince in one devastating moment.

A shiver ran through her. A man with his depth was infinitely more dangerous to her heart.

She sneaked a glance at him, at the blood spattered against his worn boots, his labored chest rising and falling, and the fierceness in his eyes that sent her pulse racing. He found her hand again, tracing unconscious circles against her palm with his thumb, his calluses creating a delicious friction against her skin until she had to fight herself from leaning into him for more comfort.

He certainly didn’t want that! He’d pulled away from her earlier. And she… wasn’t doing that now?Uh oh!She was warming up to him like sunrise melting morning mist off the waves of the sea. Yeah… this was definitely not good!

Sterling flapped his wings excitedly, circling above them before landing on the ship’s rail. His bright eyes fixed on the horizon as he bobbed his head rhythmically. “Straight ahead! Straight ahead! Undine’s Blade awaits its queen!”

Raggon’s shoulder brushed against hers in a protective gesture so subtle she might have imagined it. He was going to keep her in one piece until they reached the isles.

After that? It was anyone’s guess.

Chapter fifteen

Claim the woman as his own? Yeah, that went over well!

Raggon had followed Morris’s advice, and now Thessa was terrified of him. He felt it in her shaking hands when he touched her.

He steadied himself, slathering a healing ointment over the nasty welt on her wrist where the whip had cut into her delicate skin. If he could kill a man twice over… he would. And then she’d hate him all the more. The thought settled in his gut, feeling as heavy as the smoldering accusation in her dark-eyed looks. Her lingering fear struck him like a cannonball straight through the heart.

The Duke hovered over them at the bench, his shadow cutting across the bright sun. The man was acting like he had to guard Raggon from getting jumped from behind.

“Admit it,” Raggon said, doing his best to inject lightness into his voice. “There’s a bright side to all this. We only have to show the price for stepping out of line once.”

No one would touch her now.

Morris frowned, refusing to be placated. “Don’t press your luck.” The man seemed to revel in being the bearer of bad news. Only earlier he’d reported how the lookouts had spotted one of Circe’s ships trailing them, though the black ship kept its distance like a shark circling wounded prey.

Was it that she was biding her time until Raggon did exactly what she’d commissioned him to do?

What other parts of the plan would Circe enforce? The sham betrothal had been laughable, but there was no telling what desperate measures he’d take when his loved ones were in danger. His eyes shifted to his brother. The Typhon’s Kiss corrupted the flesh around it—his brother was transforming into one of Circe’s beasts. The dark-iron portion literally melted and inflamed the skin it touched. The sea-steel component, however, remained solid and unchanged, its silver surface reflecting light in stark contrast to the blackening flesh. The curse had spread up Tobias’s neck, the skin there mottled with patches of charred crimson hues resembling a ship’s hull ravaged by fire and ash.

Would they have enough time to save him?

Raggon couldn’t consider defeat, couldn’t fathom it,couldn’t bear it. He steadied himself, pressing his hand into Tobias’s shoulder. “Get some rest. You look beat.”

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