What the fuck is going on?This mark wasn’t part of the plan.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream as the pain seared tosomething nearly unbearable. And in the back of her mind, the soft yet cruel voice of Naerysa whispered, “And now we are bound.”
Syrena’s pulse pounded against the new brand that marked her skin, as if trying to escape it.
But then the merlights and candle flames dimmed, and the agony tearing through her slowly fizzled away. The mark, however, remained, raw and gleaming on her wrist like a wound that would never fully close.
The air was thick with silence, broken only by the echo of their ragged breathing.
The rush of magic pulsed beneath her skin like a relentless tide, a warmth that vibrated through her body as she knelt, swaying gently. She felt hollowed out and overflowing all at once, as if her soul had escaped and returned within a matter of minutes, still pressing against her prison of flesh.
She pushed herself to her feet, her lips parting as she steadied herself against Azarian’s shoulder.
He grinned. “It worked, My Goddess.”
Across from her, Esmyra looked flushed and dazed as she pushed herself to her feet.
Syrena glanced down at her sister’s wrist, where the skin was still hot and shining, bearing the same mark as her. Only it was no longer a glowing wound but inked into her flesh like a brand etched by the gods. And one of the sea dragons stood out above the other.
Esmyra’s was silver. Bright and blinding, like moonlight on the sea. She cocked her head to the side, her brows furrowing as her gaze drifted to the moon marked above its head, the crescent now a vibrant gold.
That’s interesting.
When Syrena glanced back down at her own wrist, her lips parted in awe. The same design now curled into her skin, only her sea serpent—the opposite one to Esmyra’s—glimmered with molten gold, while the sun above its head was that vibrant silver.
Syrena’s eyes burned with irritation as she stared down at the intricatetattoos now etched into both of their skin. The marks pulsed faintly, alive with magic—something she certainly hadn’t anticipated.
Turning sharply, she fixed Azarian with a hard glare as she stormed up to him, shoving at his chest. “What is this mark?”
He nodded slowly. “The magic sears itself onto the vessels to anchor the bond.”
Syrena began to pace, her hands clenched at her sides. “And how do you suppose we spin this? It’s not as if she won’t fuckingseeit.”
“We’ll tell her a half-truth,” he suggested. “That the soul bond was the only way to save her when the velsinyte was too deeply embedded.”
“Was this your plan all along?” Syrena took a step back, considering as her eyes roamed over him and then her mark. “It’s genius. And then the true reasoning for the mark will be our little secret.”
Azarian bowed his head slightly, pleased. “You forget who’s taught you such things over the centuries. The plan is foolproof, and now that the bond is set, nothing will be able to stop it.”
Her expression hardened. “If she gets too curious before the time is right, we’ll lock her away.”
He nodded gravely. “We’ll keep her contained.”
And soon the sea will be mine.Syrena’s lips curled into a cold smile as her fingers brushed along the edge of her mark.
CHAPTER 17
Esmyra
Thick and suffocating darkness pressed against Esmyra, but flashes of light cut through. It was blinding, jagged shards of memory she couldn’t piece together.
Hands moved and voices whispered words that scraped at her mind like broken glass. Pain flared, clawing through her spine while dragging her deeper into a nightmare she couldn’t escape.
Agony pulsed like thunder in her veins, each beat echoing with raw, burning flames.
Esmyra gasped, but no air came. And then a sudden jolt ripped her from the shadows.
Her eyes snapped open, revealing soft light filtering through small windows as dust drifted lazily in the quiet chamber. The scent of herbs filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood.
