Page 41 of Siren's Treasure

Thessa had better be ready for him because he certainly wasn’t ready for her.

Chapter eighteen

Thessa placed the flintlock pistol on the dresser then pushed her head into the pillows. The last part of her heart she’d kept back was now caught up in Raggon. He’d blundered his declaration of love, and still… if he’d done it any differently, she wouldn’t have been so stunned with these dizzying feelings.

He was good at throwing her off balance, in lots of ways.

Her fingers squeezed the gold coin from his country hanging from the leather cord that she’d stolen from him. A castle was intricately etched into the burnished gold surface of the coin, its towers and battlements catching the light with each movement. On the back was a woman with long-flowing hair. A queen? Perhaps Raggon’s mother? The delicate craftsmanship captured a serene expression that spoke of the artist’s deep respect. The metal was warm against Thessa’s skin, still carrying some lingering trace of his touch.

And just as if thinking of Raggon made him appear, a spray of seafoam materialized into the room and collected into hisform until he stood there under the lanterns, wearing a ferocious scowl.

The Shadow of the Tide had come!

“Ah depths!” she shouted out his curse word. Raggon wasn’t bothering with the door anymore? Twisting around and sliding the blanket up and over her, she glared at him. Of course, she was perfectly decent in one of Maddox’s oversized shirts, the coarse linen hanging loosely from her shoulders, but Raggon couldn’t just barge in like that—shouldn’t—especially when she was thinking about him. It felt far too intimate!

The storm in his blue eyes stole all breath from her. Desperation rode his brow as he came for her, not bothering to cross the span with his feet. He was gone one instant, and the next, the weight of his elbows pressed down the bed as he knelt before her.

Those eyes—they only saw her! His fingers slid gently across her jaw, warm against her skin.

No longer thinking, no longer second-guessing herself, she reacted to the unspoken pleading in his eyes. Like a sailor reaching over the edge of a rowboat toward a captivating sea creature below, she leaned over the bed and surrendered her breath to his in a kiss that shook her from head to toe.

And then she nearly toppled over the edge to fall on him. Laughter bubbled through her throat. She was no better than a sailor caught by a siren’s trap. He steadied her, his hands finding the curve of her waist through the coarse shirt, leaving trails of warmth as bright as his soul.

He’d stopped her from falling head over heels for him—quite literally. He grinned self-consciously; his laughter mingled with hers. “Thessa! I didn’t mean to…” He tried to help her regain her balance.

“What? Make me fall all over you? Of course not! It’s these legs!” She tried to scoot around, bending her knees, so that herbare feet dangled over the side of the bed where he knelt before her.

She had no idea her heart could melt like this—it felt gooey and soft as she stared down at those beautiful, pleading eyes she’d come to know so well.

The storm was still in those depths.

Without another word, he brought her closer, kissing her again. His lips were full of wonder over hers, gentle and soft, until she felt the emotion behind his kiss turn more desperate, more urgent until she knew—something had happened out there on the deck since they’d parted, something horrible, because though he’d watched her with longing before, there hadn’t been this all-encompassing need, almost as if he’d come toherfor comfort. His hands found her hair next, creating coppery waves with his every touch.

Her lips moved over his. The strong tendons of his neck stood out under her fingertips, and feeling the rapid beat of his pulse, she drew back to meet his eyes. “Raggon?” She could barely get his name out. “Wh-what is it?”

“Everything, Thessa, everything. My brother… he’s getting worse.” He went back to kissing her again. Affection for this man flooded through her, making her momentarily forget her worry over his brother. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, drawing him closer. The comfort of being in his arms was something she craved, a harbor in the storm of her thoughts—because… the only way to save his brother was to find that blade, and she was terrified of what she’d do when she found it!

Tomorrow! The day had come too soon. Would she be ready? Even as she yearned to stay forever like this in Raggon’s embrace, her mind pulled her reluctantly back. She’d never have the strength to face her fate tomorrow—not if she didn’t talk to this man.

With effort, she drew back just enough to speak, though she remained in the circle of his arms. His kiss had told her everything she needed to know—he’d lend his protection, his power, his devotion. He was a worthy ally… and perhaps more.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” she whispered, her breath still mingling with his. She hesitated, almost leaning in again before finding her resolve. “You want to know why I traded all my power to Scylla for—for my legs?” He stared at her with that devastating gaze of his, his fingers pushing into the blanket on either side of her, the crimson coverlet crumpling beneath his grip before he nodded. “Legs were the only way I could get on that island. I’ve come for Undine’s Blade too.”

Now it was out!

He took a deep breath, his chest rising beneath the brass buttons of his jacket. “Is there a reason that Scylla wants you to fall in love with me?”

She tilted her head, confusion, disbelief, and wonder rushing through her veins like water from the deepest depths of the sea. Love? Did she love him beyond this affection? But anything between them was forbidden. How could she? “No…” She tried to deny it, tried to ward those feelings away. “Raggon, I… meant it when I promised to help your brother! I’d intended to all along, and then after, I must…”run that blade through the enemy of my people.

What did that even mean?

He stared at her, his heart in his eyes, his lips seconds from kissing her again. He was a prince of Sylphoria—did that make him the…? No! That wasn’t why Scylla had tried to interfere. Raggon wasn’t her enemy!

Then who was? She’d better be sure of her target because after touching Undine’s Blade, she only had until the sea drowned the sun before she accomplished her mission or dissolve into seafoam after sunset like the last owner of that blade. No matterwhat Raggon had said—Undine’s story did not end as happily as the humans wished it had.

“The Sea Witch is wrong,” Thessa assured him, “…if—if she thinks thatyouhave anything to do with ending Undine’s curse.” The merfolk had new enemies now—Scylla, Circe, too,notthe Sylphorians! Those two wouldn’t rest until they’d enslaved her people. The dagger would be satisfied with either of those witches’ black hearts.

Her grip tightened on the front of his jacket, the fabric thick and slightly rough under her fingers. “I’m returning Undine’s Blade to my father. If I can’t get it to him, he will die.”

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