Page 7 of Siren's Treasure

And no more of these thoughts! Men needed air to breathe. She still felt the firm beat of his heart against hers, each pulse a reminder of precious seconds ticking away. Using all her strength, she dragged him back up through the water to the land of these mortals.

They broke the surface where the sounds of battle still raged. The crack of cannons split the air, and steel rang against steel asmen fought on the ships floating with death. Smoke stung her eyes, and the morning sun turned the sea spray into a thousand glittering diamonds. Would any survive this horrible rampage of bloodshed?

Her eyes swerved to the man she’d rescued. His eyes were still closed, but even unconscious, there was something compelling about him—the aristocratic curve of his mouth, the steel of his jaw now vulnerable in his helpless state.

She groaned, recognizing the signs of her rebellious heart melting within her. No one could know what she was about to do!

Not knowing how or why, she began the laborious process of getting this human back to land. The jagged line of the peninsula marked the kingdom once ruled by the Sylphorian prince who’d taken in her Aunt Undine with his trickery. The noise of fighting faded into the waves as she worked the pirate closer to shore. She pushed against the current with every bit of fight she had left in her. The current grew more vicious the closer they came, each swell of the waves threatening to tear him from her grasp. She held onto him desperately, her fingers tangled in his shirt, in his coat—anything to keep him with her.

One suspiciously vengeful wave gripped them and tossed them against the shore, shoving her between him and the rough sand before sliding away with a hiss.

Thessa gasped. She was caught under the weight of his body, the wet leather of his coat pressing her into the sand. Why couldn’t she move? Releasing a bracing cry, she heaved the man from her. He rolled to the side, and she dragged herself up to feel for his pulse. It was somewhere on his neck—that is where her sisters had told her it might be.

But where exactly? Her fingers slid over his warm skin, over the tendons against his strong neck, past a leather corded necklace. Her movements slowed. Was this what a man feltlike—not any man—this one? Even half-drowned, he radiated a dangerous kind of power, like a waiting storm.

“Are you alive?” she whispered, her voice carrying none of its usual siren power, just fear.

He didn’t look well. Sand and water glistened against his tan face, marking the sharp lines of his cheekbones. She touched his jaw, almost in awe. The structure of his face, the roughness of his stubbled jaw beneath her fingers—he was possibly the most beautiful human she had ever seen, more beautiful than the boy statue in her cavern. Everything she’d been taught about humans, about their cruelty and greed, seemed to fade against the reality of him.

And he was dying…

Surely, she could just sing him to health, like she’d done for her starfish friend? Her people’s songs were meant to lure sailors to their doom, not rescue them, but why? Why must it be so? Why not use her powers for something… more lovely? Not knowing the words, she steadied herself, feeling the magic pour through her. The vibrations of her siren’s song moved through her throat, the words taking form as they left her lips, mimicking the deep currents of the sea, the cry of gulls wheeling overhead, the whisper of waves against sand—all the notes weaving together to sing him back to life.

He took a deep breath, then turned and coughed, water spilling from his lips. Her hand went to his back, feeling the strength of his corded muscles through the sodden coat. She noticed the tear in his shirt and the nasty cut underneath. He twisted back around and stared at her. “You.” It came out raspy, like waves over rocks. The storm of his blue eyes caught her in their gaze, and he watched her warily, like a man who’d learned to distrust anything foreign.

She had nothing to say, and yet, something inside her wanted him to know that they weren’t enemies.

They weren’t, right?

Every tale she’d heard since she was a fingerling told her they were. Those stories had never mentioned the way a human’s touch could burn like a fire.

He still watched her like she was a dangerous creature from the deep.

Wasn’t she?

And then as suddenly as she registered it, he reached for her. The back of his knuckles ran down her cheek, rough and warm against her wet skin. “Are you real?” he asked, wonder and suspicion warring in his voice.

Why did that sound like an accusation? Her father would skin him alive for daring to put his hands on her, to watch her like—like he was doing. Her stomach fluttered with schools of tiny fish. “You—you cannot touch me.” But she didn’t pull away.

“Cursed sea creature… soft as your treacherous voice.” This was nonsense! He didn’t quite seem like he’d recovered from his dip in the sea.

The world of humans hated her kind. She ran her fingers across his brow, unintentionally smearing the blood into his hairline. Was this man’s injuries to blame for this deliriousness, or did he always look at women like they were precious treasures he’d discovered in a shipwreck?

Deciding he was mad from the pain, she murmured out another healing spell and watched the bloody wound against his stomach seal itself, like anemone’s tentacles closing with the changing tide. The bruising began to fade into his natural sun-bronzed skin tone, and she worked next on his forehead. The music of healing flowed more naturally now; her soul craved his recovery.

“Why save my life to bring me here?” he whispered.

Voices of other humans sounded in the distance, carried on the salt-laden breeze. Her eyes rose to them. An elegant woman,clad in a black cloak and gown led a group of soldiers closer—perhaps they were looking for survivors after such a great battle on the sea. Thessa must leave this stranger to his own people. He’d be safe with them.

And yet, she didn’t want to leave. His hand was still on her cheek, warm with the hot-blooded passion of humans, so unlike her own kind. The tips of his fingers traced the outline of her jaw—she never felt anything like it—as he slid her near, his touch inquisitive, his eyes dazed with wonder. Was he just as curious about her as she was with this—this pirate? She wasn’t sure what he was about, wasn’t fully aware of human customs until she drew closer—closer, her mouth almost touching his.

His head tilted, and instinctively she mirrored the movement, drawn by an invisible tide to him. He was a stranger, yet felt familiar, like a home she'd never known but somehow recognized. The pull between them was undeniable... and just like that, she followed an ancient instinct that transcended her world... perhaps even his. Their lips brushed—gentle as sea foam kissing the shore—in a moment both innocent and profound. The sweetness of the contact surprised her, a tender discovery that sent ripples of wonder through her entire being.

And he was human!

A shock as strong as a striking eel shot through her. She let out a startled gasp at the strength of her feelings and jerked back, her entire body humming in surprise as the boundary between their worlds had dissolved in a single touch. That was a kiss! She knew it because of the human carvings she’d saved from the shipwrecks and had brought to her sister for explanation.

His lips had curved up in his own surprise, blue eyes sparkling. “Just as soft as you look,” he said.

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