Page 56 of When the Wicked Sing
“It’s so cold,” her small voice answered in return.
The fire crackled steadily, but the heat hadn’t yet reached the corners of the room, especially with the wind howling outside, freezing gusts seeping through the tiniest of cracks.
He sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. He couldn’t ignore it—the soft whimpers, the way her teeth chattered like the wind rattling the windows. This was madness, but he stood anyway, crossing the room before he could talk himself out of it.
He pulled back the blankets to slide in beside her.
Mari stirred, her breath hitching when he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Her body was like ice against his, and he exhaled softly, his lips brushing her damp hair.
“I’m only doing this so you don’t freeze to death,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Mari snuggled closer. “Whatever you say.” Her voice was a sleepy murmur. “I knew you wanted the bed.”
Chapter 30
AsMarianasteppedoutof the cabin, the crisp mountain air rushed into her lungs, sharp and invigorating. It carried the earthy scent of pine and rain-soaked soil, tinged with the faint sweetness of wildflowers. She closed her eyes, letting the freshness seep into her, chasing away the last traces of sleep.
The storm had passed overnight, leaving the world transformed. The forest glistened with droplets of rain, each leaf catching the sunlight and refracting it like tiny jewels. The sky was a vivid, endless blue, with streaks of soft white clouds drifting lazily above the peaks.
She’d slept better than she had in weeks, cocooned in the warmth of the fur-covered bed. Dax had been gone when she woke—no note, no word, just the lingering scent of pine and leather.
Mariana inhaled deeply again, trying to shake the odd hollowness in her chest. It wasn’t like she needed him when he’d had things to do. Still, the space where his presence had been felt curiously empty, and she hated how aware she was of it.
She gazed at the towering waterfall beside the village, its grand roar echoing through the trees. At the base, partially concealed by the waterfall’s mist, was a machine. Mariana could just barely make out spinning wheels and cords snaking across the river rocks, extending toward a large building. It must have been their source of electricity.
Sunlight filtered through the mist, and a rainbow of colors appeared, raining down into the brimming pool below.
Mariana swallowed the lump in her throat as she stared at the waves flowing downriver. She missed the water and its comforting embrace as she sank below the surface. She missed the taste of the sea and the rush of the current flowing through her hair. She missed her tail. Her sisters.
Lifting her hand, she placed it over her chest. Beneath the leather coat was her bone armor, crafted specifically for her by Aurora. Wearing it made her feel closer to her sister and gave her the hope she needed. She cleared her throat and blinked away the tears in her eyes.
Now isn’t the time to wallow in self-pity, she scolded herself. Dropping her hand, she thought of Celeste’s lesson about moving forward. Her friend had always believed in looking toward the future instead of wallowing in the past.
Every time she thought of Celeste, she didn’t know what to feel. Revenge echoed in her ears, a part of her begging to inflict harm on those deserving. But there was another part that whispered,It isn’t worth it.Her cursed sisters, including the Siren Witch, would never stop taking mortal lives unless they were ordered not to by their queen. And the only way that would happen was if Sirenia was restored.
Ultimately, that was her final mission, and she could see no other path that Celeste would be more proud of as a way to honor her fallen friend.
Letting go of the railing, Mariana turned on her heel to continue down the deck, unsure where she was going.
She descended a set of winding wooden stairs to the level below, where the familiar sounds of clashing metal caught her attention. Glancing over the railing, she spotted Dax and Kenna sparring in a large training area. A crowd of betting villagers formed around them. It was the first time she’d seen so many of Dax’s tribe in one place. They seemed to be steering clear of the cabin she’d stayed in.
Mariana leaned against the rail, eyes trained on their fluid movements as the duel turned in Dax’s favor. Although Kenna’s moves were as graceful as a willow swaying in the breeze, Dax had a fierce strength that dominated every clash of their blades.
It appeared Dax was about to win, until Kenna swiftly rolled by him, followed by a kick to the back of his knee.
A weak spot, Mariana realized, watching him stumble forward. She smiled faintly, recalling how she did the same to him the first time they fought.
Seizing the opportunity, Kenna leaped onto his back, using his weight against him, and they crashed to the ground.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Kenna triumphantly raised her blade into the air, declaring her victory.
But then Dax bucked her over his head, and she rolled, landing on her back. They both burst out laughing as they dropped their blades and shook hands, still panting from the exertion.
Mariana’s lips lifted. She released the railing and continued on the downward path toward them.
The stairs creaked under their weight, the sound melding with the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. As they descended, the warm light from the village above dimmed, replaced by the cool, dappled shadows of the forest floor in the early morning light.
Mariana spotted Dax and Kenna standing with Spiro.
