Page 55 of Siren Problems
Wet.
And somehow... lighter.
Because I said it.
And maybe that means I’m ready to say it again.
To her.
I turn to go, the sting of truth still raw on my tongue. The cave feels heavier now—denser, like the weight of what I admitted is still circling in the shadows.
But just as I set my foot on the first ledge of stone, her voice slithers through the dark again.
“Not so fast, stormborn.”
I freeze.
Her tone has shifted. Not the hungry rasp she used when I first entered—this one coils around my ribs. Itknowsme now.
“You think confession frees you,” she says, rising once more from the pool like smoke wearing flesh. “But you forget. Magic that binds the heart does not break with simple honesty.”
I narrow my eyes. “You said one truth earns another.”
“I did.” Her grin flashes, serpentine. “But I did not say it was thefinaltruth.”
The pool shimmers. Warmer. Louder.
And her face—if you can call it that—stretches wider, more ancient.
“You have given pain,” she says. “But your silence—your voice—you still keep that chained.”
I shift, suddenly feeling the weight of the silence I’ve carried not as a shield, but as adebt.
“You said the curse is tied to grief,” I murmur. “That it feeds off guilt.”
“I said it feeds onyou,” she snaps. “It lives in your lungs like a drowned oath. You did not lose your voice. Youburiedit.”
The words hit like cold.
I flinch.
Because somewhere deep, I know she’s right.
The magic that took my voice didn’t just rip it from me.
It demanded Igive it up.
And when she cursed me... I let it happen.
Because I thought Ideservedit.
She drifts closer, until I can feel the temperature drop where her magic presses into mine.
“Only a freely given voice can break what love once bound.”
My pulse stalls.
She sees it. Smiles wider.
