Page 8 of Rise of the Siren Queen
Ronan’s smirk faltered, but he didn’t back down. “I’m quaking inmy scales, Red.”
With their faces so close, the tension crackled between them like a storm about to break. Neither backing down from the fight they both appeared to secretly enjoy.
I left them with their bickering, Ronan’s smug grin and Elora’s fiery retorts echoing behind me. Sienna, poor thing, stood between them, trying her best to play the diplomat she always was. She flashed me a weary smile, clearly used to being the only one capable of defusing their constant back-and-forth.
It was almost admirable, her patience, her endless attempts at peacekeeping, but sometimes, I wondered how she hadn’t lost her mind trying to wrangle those two.
I passed through the labyrinthine passage, its winding path twisting like a maze through vibrant coral and swaying seaweed. The soft glow of bio-luminescence plankton flickering along the walls, guiding me through the tangled depths. Narrow turns and hidden alcoves opened to a clearing, and the turquoise water ahead told me I had reached the pond.
Ethereal patterns, cast by the light filtering from above, danced across the smooth, glowing stones below. The tranquil beauty of the pool contrasted with the tangled passage I’d just navigated, its stillness inviting, like a secret waiting to be uncovered.
My heart pounded as I peered through the water.
He was awake.
The man sat on a rock, his eyes confusedly scanning the cave. His powerful physique was unmistakable, muscles taut under his damp clothes, but it was the intensity in his gaze that caught me off guard.
There was a hypnotic allure in the way his hazel eyes flicked over every detail, as if trying to piece together what happened.
The energy between us felt charged, and despite the distance, I felt the pull towards him.
I concealed myself in the shadows, allowing the water to envelop me as I focused, calling upon the magic within. My tail shifted, the familiar scales fading as they transformed into human flesh and just like that, I had legs. The sensation was strange. It always felt like shedding a part of myself.
But I hadn’t time to dwell on that. I needed to approach him carefully, without revealing what I truly was, at least not yet.
The air felt heavier as I stepped out of the water, using my invisibility to remain hidden. My heart raced with the uncertainty of what the future held and the burden of my role crushed my chest. Silently, I moved toward a narrow gap in the stone walls, slipping through it with ease, the cool stone brushing against my skin. I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts, and then, with a quiet exhale, I released my hold on the magic cloaking me.
I emerged into his view.
His eyes filled with wary, snapped toward me, sharp and unrelenting.
“Who are you?” His voice was raspy, laced with suspicion, and I sensed the tension radiating from him.
Despite the rudeness, I felt a pang of empathy. I understood that all too well. If I found myself in his situation, stuck in an unfamiliar place without explanation, I would react just as impulsively, if not more.
3
The Threat
In the lands of men, the sirens lived only in whispers, legends passed down as cautionary tales. Mothers spoke of them to keep children close, to warn the reckless away from the sea’s edge. Ancient Greek lore painted them as temptresses of the deep, their songs luring sailors to ruin, voices that led to wreckage, to death, to silence beneath the waves. Feared as harbingers of doom, the sirens became symbols of peril.
But as time passed, their stories faded into myth. Most dismissed them as fantasy, fables to frighten, not to reveal. Few believed such beings ever existed.
Fewer still knew the truth.
* * *
Adrian
I woke up disoriented, the world around me spinning in slow, disjointed circles. Lead weighed down my body, and each limb felt sluggish and unresponsive as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind my eyes, and my head pounded in rhythm with my heartbeat, sharp and insistent.
Groaning, I reached up to touch my forehead, the motion slow and clumsy. My fingers brushed against something wet and sticky.
Blood. Great. Just what I needed.
I hissed in pain as I felt the jagged edges of a cut slicing across my brow. The sting of the wound was sharp, but the throbbing in my skull was worse. I must’ve hit something—hard. But what? And how?
My mind was foggy, memories fractured and distant, like trying to grasp onto fragments of a dream that was slipping away. I blinked, forcing myself to focus, but the hazy edges of my vision refused to clear. Everything felt… wrong.
