Page 12 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
We’re led by hierarchy and archaic roles where males have more power, and even though my grandmother was the true heir, her arranged mating took the crown. Unfair and wrong—I won’t make the same mistake.
Closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath, I try to calm my racing heart. Attempt to slip back into my tail form, and yet, I fail. Over and over. My mind refuses to unsee those vibrant honeyed eyes and the way his head snapped in my direction; his jaw clenched tight as my scent swirled around him.
I’d played my hand last night.
A part of me wanted Kai to know I was there, even if I didn’t show my face. One of the advantages of being Lucienne’s granddaughter is the treasures she’s handed down to me over the years. Ancient scriptures, an amulet hidden inside a gemstone bracelet that dulls my scent, a sea-silk woven cloak, the latter of which is my most coveted possession.
Its fibers shift to match any surroundings, working on both land and sea while blending me into the background if need be. These were things she once used to escape and breathe away fromherfather’s controlling grip.
Family. Duty. Sacrifice.
And yet you almost exposed yourself…
The breeze and storm last night weren’t nature-born, but a mix of my emotions as I watched the powerful display. I couldn’t help the fight within, how my body thrummed beneath the waist-deep water as he exerted his alpha’s aura onto the crowd of bloodthirsty wolves.
It was sexy. It was a revelation.
It’s haunting my dreams.
This is all his fault. Handsome asshole.
“What’s wrong with me?” I groan out loud, throwing myself back, arm across my face. “Kai Daire is the enemy.”
I’m frustrated and confused. Need to get control of myself.
Focusing on my breathing, I try to calm the upheaval that filthy wolf wrought upon me. I’m home, safe, and the soothing flow of the water begins to loosen the knot in my chest with each deep inhale. The more I give in to the slow rocking, the easier it is to calm down and not think of him.
His handsome face recedes, and instead, I picture myself taking a deep-sea swim.
Instead of his muscles and that woodsy scent I’ve barely uncovered, I’m brought to an image of myself sitting inside my home in Avaria, reading a book. Maybe sharing a meal with the older mage that lives next door that I’ve struck an unconventional friendship with.
“Did tell Naia I’d be busy.” Originally, I was going to Avaria to ask some questions, but the idea of a private tarot reading tugs at me instead. It’s quieter, more precise, and no one will ask questions back. Exhaling sharply, I push upright and smile. My tail shimmers back into existence, the purples and blues with a touch of soft pink catch the sunlight filtering down through the overhead openings.
More so when I drift toward the largest window and peer below.
The entire kingdom is awake and moving. The shops are open, their fronts bright with shells and abalone. Tiny merkids dart and laugh through the coral maze garden while a band sets up in the square, the running of instruments carrying through the current.
Signs of life are everywhere.
It all brings a smile to my face, until the scent of sea salt pauses outside my bedroom. Two men I know carry that same scent, a slight variation in each.
One is my grandfather. One is his godson, General Orion.
There’s a pause there and a muttered—too low—exchange, but I’m able to make out two words clearly:
Cordis Lux.
One minute, there had been the flash of metal, the high arch of an arm aiming to kill, and then a half-shifted alpha, claws digging into the neck of the man I’d sent to investigate. Spiro’s job was simple, and I’d stared at the rewards of my deception hanging from a thick gold chain, the black stone radiant under the moon’s light…
That priceless gem belongs to my family. It was meant to be mine on the day I reached my eighteen summers, just like it had been for every daughter before me. In each generation, one girl is born—a gift from the gods—and she carries abilities her brothers will never inherit.
It’s always been this way.
I was robbed of this rite of passage, and at twenty-one now, it still burns.
The stone is passed down my grandmother’s side of the family. Presented through a binding ritual, it carries a piece of our magic we’d one day gift our fated one. A blessing meant to strengthen and protect, mark them as ours.
Possessive: it’s our scent that intertwines with the very fibers of their DNA.
