Page 17 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
You don’t put demands on fate. You follow and trust.
I’ve heard that saying all my life.
From her. From my father.
And I’ve been patient, but when I pull back and meet her eyes again, there’s a warning in there…
“I did, young one.” Grandma coughs, the sound faint, but then she clicks her tongue. Fast and sharp, a trilling sound—my brows furrow. “Ignore that.”
“Not possible.” Tilting my head to the side, I study her. “What’s going on?”
“I’m worried.” Her small fingers intertwine with mine. They squeeze, but there’s no true strength behind it.
“About? Why are you?—”
“Please sit, Nerissa.” A command, one I adhere to out of respectandsurprise. She’s not one to do so, but more than that, this moment feels off.
As if I’m missing something.
Taking a seat, I scan the room but find nothing out of order.
The queen’s sitting room is carved from pale limestone, smoothed by centuries of water and gleaming with veins of pearl that catch the filtered light. Heavy thrones of reef and obsidian anchor the space, their seats softened by anemone-woven pads and sea sponge padding, their fibers swaying faintly in the water. Shell inlaid tables shine, their surfaces etched with swirling designs, while kelp drapes give the room a cozy, private feel.
“You’re not going to find what you’re looking for here.”
“I’m not?—”
“Don’t lie to me,” she says, her tone admonishing yet soft. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. One I beg you to stop.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Alpha Kai Daire.” Those three words stop me cold, but the way she says his last name sends a ripple of awareness through me. It’s not disgust I detect, but…sadness.“Whatever you think you know?—”
“Everything I do is for the good of our kingdom.”
Her exhale is full of reproach. A little disappointment. “Your heart might be in the right place, my child, but this is not your fight.”
“Grandma, I don’t understand.” A tiny bit of hurt slips through my tone, but I’m also curious. Her eyes are begging me to let this go. To trust her. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“That you’re wrong, Nerissa. Please. Leave it alone.” Her gaze sharpens, voice dropping low. It stings to be on the receiving end of her disappointment—I don’t understandwhy—but she reaches a hand out to me, palm up. I place mine atop hers, and there’s a subtle vibration between our skin, like a thrumming pulse, and it reminds me of the way our scales shake depending on our emotions. “I’m asking you to stop hunting whatever your grandfather has you chasing before the cost and repercussions are more than you’re willing to pay.”
“Grandma, I need more than that. What aren’t you telling me?”
“You don’t put demands on fate…”
“You follow and trust,” I finish for her, then exhale slowly. For a minute or two, we don’t speak. The waters are calm, and yet I feel the shift of movement not far from us. She does, too.
Grandma lowers her head, and I meet her halfway. Our heads are close, her lips now pressed against my temple. “I need you to go to Avaria, Nerissa. Today.”
“I’m actually heading there?—”
“I know.” The presence draws nearer, and we exhale in relief when we catch my father’s scent. He doesn’t come in, but lingers as if protecting the area. “There’s something I need you to retrieve for me. It’s important, but more than that, I need you to be discreet. No one can know.”
I’m nodding before she’s done. “Understood.”
“Your neighbor has a note from me.”
“Instructions?”
