Page 98 of Rise of the Siren Queen
Iryen’s eyes burned, not just with sympathy, but with something sharper. Rage. A mirror of my own.
Good.
I didn’t need her pity. Didn’t want her sorrow. I wanted heron my side.
They broke something inside me that night. Something I never planned to put back together. Not untilher.
“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Adrian.”
Her voice was soft, a whisper trying to soothe the storm. And her eyes, those fathomless, knowing eyes, searched mine like she could carry the weight for me. But I couldn’t feel sorry. Not even a little.
If that hadn’t happened, I never would’ve mether.
The fury that used to live like fire under my skin had dulled. Replaced by something hotter. Hungrier. A burn that didn’t just consume, it claimed. Whatever scars their betrayal carved into me, they’d led me straight to this siren who now stood so close, her presence peeling back every wall I thought I had left.
Maybe itwasall meant to fall apart, so I could end up here. With her. Mine siren.
“It was,” I said, voice like steel under velvet. “I confronted them both. Sophia stammered through some pathetic excuse, said it was a mistake, that she never meant for it to happen.”
I leaned in, just slightly, watching the shadows shift behind Iryen’s gaze.
“But Lorenzo?” My lip curled. “He didn’t even bother. Just stood there. Smirking. Like he’dwon something.”
It was the moment I stopped being the man I was. That smirk. That look. Like I was nothing but a discarded piece on his game board.
Iryen’s expression cracked, an elegant mask slipping, revealing the storm beneath. Her eyes narrowed, waves dancing just beneath the surface. She stepped forward, fingers curling around my arm like she was claiming me. Marking me as hers in return.
Gods, she was stunning when she was angry. All that control wrapped around something primal.
And she burned for me.
“What happened after that?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
The air cooled. The same shift I’d felt at the restaurant, like her anger, altered the very atmosphere. Her eyes shimmered, not with tears, but with promise. Vengeance. Retribution. My little siren wanted blood on my behalf, and that twisted something deep in my chest. Dark. Savage. Satisfying.
“I cut them off,” I said, jaw clenched, fists tightening at my sides. “Cut them both out of my life. Cold. Clean. I didn’t want to breathe the same air.”
I stared past her for a moment, to a place I never enjoyed revisiting.
“But Lorenzo made damn sure I didn’t forget. He started showing up everywhere. Always with that smug, empty stare. He wanted me to snap. He was begging me to give him an excuse to bleed.”
Iryen’s hand tightened, grounding me. Steadying the chaos in my veins with a touch. Just hers.
“You didn’t deserve that, Adrian. No one does.”
“I know.” I pried her hand from my arm gently, deliberately, and brought it to my lips. A brush of skin.
“Come on,” I said, smirking as her cheeks flushed with the most delicious crimson. Her control fractured. “I’m going to make up for that back home.”
She blinked. I leaned in close, voice barely above a growl.
“I’m cooking pasta.”
The blush deepened. She was so damncutewhen she blushed.
And she was coming home withme.
I swung a leg over the bike, and she slipped on behind me, her hands wrapping around my waist and sending a charge through me that went bone deep. Her touch was electric, sparking an ache that settled low and steady, more intense with every beat of the engine.
