Page 50 of Rise of the Siren Queen
A dense fog curled around my thoughts, thick and constricting.My mind slowed, dragged into a haze so absolute it felt like drowning in ink. My body locked up, every muscle turning to stone. I tried to move, nothing. The sensation wasn’t pain, but it was worse.It was powerlessness.
Her voice cut through the suffocating blur. Calm, detached, so damn casual. “Just like you have your powers, I have mine.”
My breath caught. My pulse hammered uselessly beneath my skin.What else could she do?Could she strip away every piece of me, rewrite my past, leave me hollow? My mind felt foreign, no longer mine to command.
Would I even know if she had already taken something?
A sickening wave of fury coiled deep in my gut, but swallowed by something darker, something I despised.Fear.
“I will not harm you or take your memories, Adrian,” she continued, her voice even, almost patient. “I made you that bargain because I don’t particularly enjoy using this gift lightly.”
Then, like the tide pulling back, the pressure lifted. My body was mine again. My mind snapped back into place, sharp, sharp enough to slice through the lingering fog of violation.
I inhaled sharply, the rage flooding back in full force. “What the fuck did you just do to me?” I rasped, my voice low, dangerous. The echo of that helplessness still clung to me, seething beneath my skin like poison.
“I showed you what you asked.” She spoke, so unaffected it made my teeth clench.
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, okay. And I’m just supposed to take that nicely?” The words dripped venom, but beneath the anger, something uglier churned.She had controlled me. Effortlessly.
I craved control. Needed it like a breath. And here, inherworld, I had none.
She tilted her head, an infuriating smirk playing at her lips. “What’sthe fun in that?”
My fingers curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms.
She was playing with me.
Mocking me.
And enjoying it.
“Now, Adrian,” she said, her amusement flickering like a flame in those eyes. “Ask your questions.”
The same taunting lilt I’d used on her. The same challenge.
I should’ve been furious. And I was.
But beneath it all, a twisted and undeniable urge.
I wanted to play.
“Alright,” I said, forcing myself to let it go, for now. “Then first, tell me why I had a dream about you?”
She laughed. Light, melodic, too beautiful for someone who had just locked my mind in a vice grip. It was a laugh that belonged somewhere warm and untouched by shadows. And it caught me off guard.
The sound was so unexpected, so at odds with everything else, that for a moment, I just… listened.
“That, I can’t know,” she said, amusement lacing her voice. “I must’ve made quite the impression on you for you to be dreaming about me.”
I scoffed, the flicker of embarrassment instantly curdling into irritation.
“I’m not—” I cut myself off, jaw tightening. “Notthosekinds of dreams.” My voice came out too sharp, too quick.Damn it.
Her smirk deepened, as if she knew exactly how much she was getting under my skin. I exhaled through my nose and continued, forcing my voice back to something even. “I saw you in a chamber, confronting a triton…”
I expected her to laugh again, maybe throwanother smug remark my way. But she didn’t.
The amusement bled from her face.
