Page 48 of Siren Problems
“I hate you.”
He smiles. “Everyone does. Except Mira. And she mostly tolerates me because I make good tea.”
I lean back, arms crossed. “You don’t get it.”
“Idoget it. Because Iamyou. Just wetter. And with better cheekbones.”
I snort.
He nudges me. “Look, I’m not saying you’re not cursed. You are. You’re basically a romantic horror trope with a six-pack. But Luna’s not afraid of your darkness. She’s afraid you won’t let her walk beside you through it.”
I go still.
“She’s not asking you to be safe, Calder. She’s asking you tostay.”
My throat tightens.
Lyle finishes his drink in one dramatic gulp and stands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go scream into the surf and maybe romance a tragic seaweed god. You should go apologize to the woman who didn’t run when you showed her what you are.”
He pats my shoulder. “Let her love you, asshole.”
Then he’s gone—wobbling toward the back of the bar, shirt half-unbuttoned and mumbling something about fate and snails.
I sit there for a long time.
Long enough for the tide to rise.
Long enough to realize I can’t drown out what she gave me.
And I don’t want to.
Not anymore.
I’m halfway to the exit when I hear her name.
Luna.
My spine locks up like I’ve just touched live leywire.
“She’s considering it,” someone says, just behind the curtain that separates the bar’s main room from the back alcove. The voice is sharp. Familiar.
Council envoy. Juno.
“I heard she’s applying for the Westwind Fellowship. Full funding. Artifact authority. Field access beyond the Bluffs.”
I step closer, staying just in the shadows.
“She’ll leave,” Juno adds. “Once the grant comes through. Can’t blame her. No real future here. Especially withhimhanging around.”
My stomach drops.
“She’s the best we’ve had in two decades,” someone else says. “We can’t stop her. We shouldn’t.”
Laughter.
Agreement.
And then the sound fades as they move deeper into the alcove, taking their drinks and their casual dismantling of my entire fucking world with them.
