The words struck Jabir like a blade to the chest. “But you separated families,” he said, the words falling like stones. “The Queen said something was taken. Something precious. You took their loved ones.”
A deep shame crept into Albacore’s face.
Jack grimly looked between them. “I have argued with the elders long enough. This should have been rectified long ago.”
Albacore sighed heavily and looked out at the still lake, the glassy water hiding an ocean of pain beneath its surface. A stunned silence clung to the dock like fog after Albacore’s confession. The air was thick with unspoken guilt, and the lake’s surface—too calm—seemed to watch them all with judgment.
“It was them or us… or so we told ourselves at the time. And it’s been so long now.”
Jabir stared at Albacore, his fists clenched at his sides. Anger swelled in his chest, slow and hot, like magma just beneath the skin. He turned toward the gathered villagers, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.
“It only serves them right,” someone muttered. “They were dangerous. They lured our men to their deaths.”
“Maybe they deserved to be driven away!” another added.
A low growl rumbled in Jabir’s throat. He stepped forward, his shadow stretching long in the torchlight. He stopped in front of a broad-shouldered Minotaur woman with twisted horns and defiant eyes.
“Do you have a husband?” he asked quietly.
She blinked, surprised. “Yes. He’s a blacksmith.”
“What would you feel,” Jabir asked, stepping closer, “if he were taken from you—separated by force? What if you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him, but never reach him again? What if your children asked where he was—and you had no answer?”
Her nostrils flared. She looked away.
He turned to a towering woman with pale blue skin and silver hair braided with beads. “Audrey, right? Your husband’s off trading with the wood sprites.”
She nodded slowly.
“What if he didn’t come back?” Jabir asked. “What if he tried—but something, someone, made sure he couldn’t? How long before you’d break from missing him?”
Audrey’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her arms tightened around herself.
Jabir’s voice cracked with emotion. “The sirens are people. Like me. Like you. They love. They grieve. And they’ve been grieving for years.”
He drew a slow breath to steady the tremor in his voice.
“I miss my parents,” he said softly. “My friends. I can’t tell you how much I miss them. But if I was told I’d never see them again? That would tear me apart.”
He looked each of them in the eye, one by one. “A Valdier warrior is bonded to his symbiot. His dragon. And—if the Goddess blesses him—his mate. To be separated from her… is a death sentence.”
His voice dropped. “Put yourself in their position. Ask yourself: what would you do to save the one you loved? I have found friendship and love with a siren. Would you deny me the chance to embrace that?”
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
“I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t plan it. I just want to protect her and make her happy.” His eyes glinted with steel. “How can you deny the sirens the same joy you experience every day? The same right to love?”
“You are too young to know what love truly is,” one woman scoffed.
Cory growled a low, menacing snarl and wound her arm through Jack’s.
“I knew Jack was my mate the first time he helped me out of a tree,” she said with a fierce, determined expression. “I was just a cub. My wings could barely lift me off the ground. But he saw me. He didn’t laugh. He helped me down, and I knew in that instant that we were destined to be together.”
Jack let out a pleased rumble and nuzzled her neck. “I couldn’t imagine knowing Cory was close but never being able to see her—to touch her and hear her laugh.” His paw curled protectively around her waist. “That would be worse than death.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then, hooves thudded gently on the dock. A centaur stepped forward from the crowd. His chest was broad, and his shoulders tense. “Then tell us what we can do,” he asked. “This… this was done long before we arrived. But we’re here now. Tell us how to fix it.”
