Page 23 of Halloween With the Siren
When all the costume contest winners have received their floral crowns and returned to the dance floor, I make my way to the empty stage. My nerves dissipate with every step closer, the support of my pack bolstering my spirit.
I remove the rabbit mask the guys prepared for me—a thrilling reminder of what I’m looking forward to after the party—and place it on the stool behind me as I take up my lyre and start strumming an old folk song I’ve been learning over the past few days.
The first chord has heads turning in my direction, but my only focus is Pack Morgan as they, too, remove their masks, laying them on the pub’s counter as they stare mesmerized up at me.
The crowd fades away and I surrender to the melody, surrender my heart to my pack.
My voice dips and rises as I sing a song that tells of how my soul aches for them.
That they’re the breath in my body, and the pulse of my heart.
That nothing can keep us apart—no time, no space, no distance.
I am theirs and they are mine.
They’re my forever.
Thunderous applause follows my last chord and I blink my tears away as I lock eyes with my pack, an intensity there I’ve never seen before. Around me, there’s cheering and clapping and stomping of feet, interspersed with calls for more.
Shocked by the overwhelming response, I stay frozen in my seat, the guys’ fiery gazes never leaving mine. A bandaged hand gently tugs on my wrist and brings me back to the present while someone else restarts the dance music.
I step down and Tilly, dressed as a mummy, cups a hand over my ear. “That was incredible, Marisol, and so touching.”
“Thank you,” I say, squeezing her shoulder as I lift onto my tiptoes to look for my guys.
“If you wanted to slip out early and have a private moment with your pack after that declaration, you totally should.” Sensing my protest, she adds, “Throughout the performance, your guys looked like they were barely holding themselves back from snatching you off the stage and claiming you right here. It’s a look I recognize all too well. Don’t worry about anything to do with The Singing Seahorse. Bodin and I will lock up and take care of everything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Tilly answers emphatically. “Bodin is talking to them right now. Look, they just grabbed their masks and they’re heading to the door.”
I squeeze her in a tight hug. “Thank you. So much.”
“You are very, very welcome. Now, go.”
I don’t wait to get told again. I cut through the crowd and head directly to the door where my pack waits for me.
Cool air hits me as soon as I’m outside, then someone yanks me against them, another body pressing against my back.
“Goddess, if you don’t run right now, I’m going to fuck you right here. Knot you. Mark you. Claim you,” Bash growls against my neck, the snout of his mask dragging against my sensitive skin.
Killian wraps a hand lightly around my throat and my breath hitches. “Sweet siren, you have us on the edge of going feral after what you just proclaimed in front of everyone.”
Voice a deep rasp, Silas pants, “A chuisle mo chroí, if you meant it, and if you still want us to chase you, then you need to go now. We’re all hanging on by the thinnest of threads. Our animals are right beneath our skin, wanting to chase you too. To claim you.”
“We want to feast, Marisol,” Killian warns. “And if you don’t want to do that right here, then run, little rabbit, run.”
Not needing any further explanations, I take off.
I race down the cobbled path, past the half-empty tree of potions, and down the hill, ducking cobwebs and jumping over pumpkins. Guided by the moonlight, I weave through the pumpkin patch at the base of Starry Hill, sprinting as fast as my legs can take me toward Kraken Cove. Never once do I look behind me, feeling their predatory eyes on my back as they track every step that I take.
My heart drums loudly inside my chest, my breaths coming shallow as I run faster and faster. The sounds from the party fade away and my pounding footsteps echo around me as I will myself to keep going.
I won’t make it easy for them. If they want to catch me to claim me, they’ve got to work for it.
When my feet hit the sand, I strip out of my clothes, leaving a trail on the beach as I head for the dark ocean. The moment I’m in the water, I shift into my siren form and duck down beneath the surface, diving below the floating jack-o’-lanterns and through the barrier of bubbles Beck created to keep the pumpkins from drifting farther out into the ocean.
Only when I’m on the other side do I dare look back.
