Page 50 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
“Stop,” a voice says from the bed, and I whip around to face my father. He’s wincing a bit, face scrunched up, but holds a shaky hand up to me. I bypass it and bend to place my forehead on his.
“Thank the Gods you’re awake.”
“I’m okay, Princess. Promise.” His eyes leave mine and focus on the person behind me. “Did you make the call?”
Rage coils in my gut. My disappointment is a bitter ache to swallow.
My father looks fragile, pallid against the low lighting, and yet people I trusted are busy bending the truth. I have to wonder just how deep Naia’s betrayal goes.Would she harm my family to please her mate?
I’m pulled from my thoughts by Grandma’s throat clearing. “I did.”
“How far out now?”
“A few hours. Reinforcement will be stationed nearby if needed.” She stands and moves to the other side of the bed and then leans closer, voice drops an octave or two. “Other things have changed since we last spoke, too. They want more, Marin. The vampires will use us—our waters—to move their blood herds, wealth, and weapons. And when the time comes, they’ll use all three to strike San Tico. Kill every wolf on that island.”
The words slice through me, and I gasp. “No.” The stone in my hand remains black, but it’s hot to the touch, and I’m singed by it. Not that I care. My mind and heart are screaming with dread. “No. That…they can’t!”
“I’m sorry.” Grabbing something from her pocket, Grandma presses it into my unoccupied hand. Her face is tight, almost haunted. “This is why you must leave tonight. Take the stone and hide it before your grandfather finds out.”
Tears sting my eyes. “I can’t leave you. I can’t leave my father.”
A tough cough breaks the silence. My father shifts weakly, his voice hoarse but steady. “Go, Nerissa. Your uncle and aunt are on their way; they know the truth and will care for me. We’ll be fine, but you…”
“I won’t be,” I finish for him.
Grandma glances at the door; fins are brushing the current and coming closer. The sound is faint, a little distorted, but unmistakable. After a beat of silence, she meets my eyes again—hers blank now, just like my father is lying back with his eyes closed—as if this conversation never happened. “Do as he says, child. Run now, before it’s too late.”
The palace fades behind me,its polished grandeur and hidden dangers swallowed by the distance as I swim hard through the outer currents. My lungs burn, fin propelling me through the water. Every fast heartbeat is a reminder that I cannot go back. Every bit of the distance between me and the place I called home all my life hurts, but I don’t slow down.
Not after everything I heard.
Because the people I trusted—who I still care for—decided their greed outweighs common decency. That the end justifies the means, no matter who gets harmed.
Up ahead, I hide behind a grouping of pillars. They're large enough to hide me as a guard on duty glides past me, spear in hand. His fins cut through the water silently, and my stomach twists.
Shit.I press myself closer to the stone, letting my cloak shimmer and bend the light, obscuring my outline. The merman slows, eyes narrowing, trying to find a scent or heartbeat—he can sense someone is there—before moving along while shaking his head.
I let out the shaky breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my hand gripping the stone to find an anchor. For a few minutes, I don’t move just in case, but then take a quick peek. Nothing to the left or right, and I push off the stone, swimming faster than I ever have before.
“Swim, Nerissa. Keep moving,” I mutter under my breath, cutting through the current without pause until I break through the surface near Port Avaria. It’s already dark out, the distant lights from various businesses creating a fractured light across the water. The scents of herbs and food—alcohol from the tavern—are sharp in my nose, and I sneeze. “Definitely different from the early afternoon hours.”
My eyes don’t sting; the sights in front of me are sharp as I walk up the beach and head toward my private cottage. The sound of laughter coming from the town’s center—the late-night crowd from the ports, or those taking refuge for the night—carries through the wind.
I keep quiet so as not to attract attention. Hold my cloak tight as I slip through narrow back lanes, taking a shortcut through the outskirts, until I walk up my lit pathway. Only then do I let myself relax a little bit.
Not much, but enough not to jump at every single sound.
Once inside, though, I’m quick to pack, collecting the things I can’t leave behind just in case. The book Magda gave me, jewelry passed down to me with certain protection spells, and a piece of Kai’s pants I’d saved from that night. I’d found it in my bathroom after he left, just a small square that must’ve been dragged into the house in our haste, and still carries his scent.
Thicker, as a few drops of dried come had landed on it.
Guaiac wood. Pineapple. Leather.
I inhale deep and then shove it in the bag, making sure to close it quickly so I’m not tempted to rub the piece of fabric against my neck. Scent marking me the way he did that night, his skin against mine, his exhales warming my flesh until he’d been satisfied, and only then did he allow me more than an hour of sleep.
“No time for this. Pack and go,” I remind myself, rushing back out the way I came after grabbing three simple changes of clothes and money stashed for emergencies. A few pieces of solid gold, too, just in case.
Nothing too big, but the bag weighed enough that I looked like a seasoned traveler heading to a new adventure while carrying everything she could need for any possible scenario.
