Page 35 of Siren's Gift

"You may be good, the best—" I added when she shot me a withering glare "—but there are only so many shadows you can use or create during the day."

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the message. So much for that idea. My shoulders slumped in defeat. Any hope I had of getting back there tomorrow dissipated. "No use arguing. Ichiro put the lab on lockdown and called a search for the wolf shifters. Rin’s part of the search team."

Keiko made a face. "Great. He’s going to smell abso-fucking awful when he gets home. Like a wet dog."

My gaze dropped to the photos scattered across the remains of my desk. It would have to be enough.

We were so close. So close to finally putting an end to Ichiro Sato. All I had to do was attend tomorrow’s High Draconic Council meeting and convince enough members that Ichiro was the mastermind behind the pyrocrystals.

Piece of cake.

CHAPTER 17

Bree

The day-long journey to the Thalasses kingdom was uneventful, all things considered. The three sirens fed me, kept me safe from the few predators we encountered, and allowed me a small amount of privacy when I needed to relieve myself.

The concept of how we sirens relieved ourselves or even had sex always fascinated humans. It was like they thought there was some magical element to it rather than the more simple explanation—our scales covered our private bits until we needed to use them. Easy peasy.

Then again, their fascination wasn’t too surprising, considering most humans thought we were little more than mythological creatures. Pure fantasy.

These were the thoughts that kept me occupied since none of the guards bothered speaking to me beyond basic commands. Just a handful of "stops" and "hurry-ups."

I learned only a bit about them besides their names. Sidon, I knew, of course. Then there was Danel, the chatty one, and Baltasar, who wondered more than once what he had done to anger Oceanus, the god of the oceans, to get stuck with Danelon this mission. I also heard about their general disgust of the sea witch, though they revealed nothing more about her or their king’s connection to her.

Other than those tidbits, their conversations were downright boring to listen to. I mean, who in their right mind thought discussing the various types of coral we saw would be interesting?

Only Danel which Baltasar reminded him of more than once. Not that he was any more interesting.

But when we arrived at the outskirts of their capital city, everything changed. Word about my arrival spread faster than a tidal wave, and pods of sirens came out to gawk as I swam past homes and shops toward the palace.

Sirens of all ages booed and yelled curses as I swam by, some even using their powerful tails to lob sticky balls of kelp at me. The stench of octopus ink—which kept the globs together and stuck to my skin and scales—made my stomach churn with nausea.

There was no doubt these sirens knew who I was, but I had no idea what had transpired over the past decade to cause such hatred. Unless it had always been like this between our kingdoms. Or maybe they hated me because I had run away, leaving their young prince jilted. I knew so little about anything going on here anymore.

Regardless, my face burned fiery hot with humiliation and fury by the time we reached the palace. It rose majestically from the ocean floor, its coral sides glistening with iridescent hues that shimmered like gemstones in the filtered light from above. Delicate, branching coral formations spiraled upward, creating spires that stretched toward the surface, their edges softened by the current.

We passed through the arched entrance, and the guards flanked me like I was something dangerous. They had no ideahow right they were. Even without my magic, I might be able to bring them to their knees. Well, tails.

Similar to the Naftes palace, clusters of vibrant coral blooms formed the interior walls. Their colors shifted from soft pinks and lavenders to fiery oranges and deep reds, as if the palace itself breathed with the rhythm of the sea.

As we entered the great hall, the weight of the ocean seemed to shift around me. It was beautiful in the same way deep-sea creatures were—glowing, otherworldly, and often deadly if you got too close. The throne itself rose from jagged black coral, adorned with shells so white they looked like bleached bone.

Lounging atop it was King Ateleíotes.

I’d like to say that he was a small, weak man with a bulbous nose and skin blemishes galore. Unfortunately, he was the opposite of all that.

The king cut a formidable figure on his throne. His posture was relaxed, but the stillness in him was unnerving. Predatory. Like an eel in hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike. Most of his tail was a deep orange with hints of shimmering yellows and golds, and his long white beard had been woven into three braids to stay out of his face.

When his gaze fixed on mine, his light blue irises held a deep chill that struck like frostbite. His eyes didn’t just look at me—they read me. Took me apart in layers. No trace of warmth, no hint of compassion or even tolerance.

Despite his cruel and calculating demeanor, Ateleíotes was classically handsome. But he was far from attractive to me.

No, I loathed everything about him. While I didn’t regret running away and joining the circus that was the human world, my decision had been in large part because of this male’s reputation and that of his son.

Granted, I hadn’t wanted to be bartered or traded like tuna, either, but would I have made a different choice with a better suitor?

I had no idea. In all honesty, probably not. But this male was the physical embodiment of what I’d left behind, and I had been bartered away anyway.

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