Page 1 of Siren’s Secret

Chapter 1 – Wave

Wave drifted in and out of consciousness. She knew they were moving. Heard shouts. Flashing lights. Something smelled sterile, and an annoying beeping kept intruding on her sleep.

When she blinked her eyes open, Sinister was there. He looked a bit harried but steady. Before Wave could croak out a question, he explained.

“You are at the Council Force’s Medic Ward. I told them you fought for us with your storm spirit power during the attack. Just stay calm and rest.” He put a heavy emphasis on the spirit.

“Mm—okay.” Wave sighed, too tired to do anything else. All her power was depleted. Sinister helped her drink some water and then she was out of it again. When she woke, it was to a no-nonsense nurse waiting for her eyes to open.

Blearily, Wave looked around and did her best to follow his instructions. He tested her reflexes, her power levels—which were nonexistent—and made sure she knew who and where she was. Sinister had said something about storm spirit and it seemed that it had been taken as face value, since all the questions and tests went along that line. When she just answered everything between yawns and agreed to all the tests without a word, the nurse nodded and patted her leg.

“We are going to keep you here for a few days to make sure you’re stable, but I don’t see any reason to handcuff you. As long as you keep behaving, we’ll get along just fine.”

“Thanks,” Wave murmured. “I’ll behave.” She wondered what they expected of her. She was beat mentally, physically, emotionally, every -ly really.

“I’m sure you will. Now, rest some more.” He pulled the blanket over her and even tucked in her toes since she was shivering. Wave was unconscious again before he left the room.

She dreamed of storms and the wind wailing and always woke up drenched in cold sweat, certain her secret was out. Sometimes she dreamed of Jarred’s eyes when she forced him to stay behind. Of the way Marc used to hold her hand. The fiery looks Hellion threw at her.

The only thing allowing her to truly rest was the memory of ice. Of cold surrounding her. As soon as she was better, she would have to make a plan to find a deserted arctic island.

It took three days of sleep before the nurse agreed that she was fine enough to be transferred to the regular holding cell. She never saw a doctor, but then again, she wasn’t injured, just exhausted and power depleted. They fed her and let her sleep it off.

No one asked questions about her parentage or where she came from. The nurses didn’t tell her much about things going on outside either, just enough to let her know that the attack had ceased around the same time as her power had manifested. No students were among the dead, so at least she knew that no one she cared about was gone. Injuries could be healed.

When she asked if anyone had come to see her, the answer was no. The nurse must have seen something on her face because she kindly explained that even if someone had tried, they wouldn’t be allowed in. Maybe all her friends knew that and didn’t waste their time.

Fuck. She had friends. People beyond her parents who might care about how she was doing. That was a first. Wave wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. What if they hated her guts now?

The night before the planned transfer out of the medic ward, Wave dreamed of chains.

She tried to hold it together when they came to get her, but none of the four guards held handcuffs. Briskly, they directed her to change into a gray pantsuit and white sneakers. Once she was done, they guided her out of the room, walking at a moderate pace, and one of them even steadied her when she stumbled.

“Thank you,” she mumbled quietly. Even with her wrists and neck free, she was spiraling. The walls were closing in on her.

The cell door clanked shut behind her and Wave took in her new surroundings. Tiny table, equally tiny sink and toilet. What surprised her was the curtain offering a little privacy to the bathroom corner. Then she noticed a shower head above.

There was a narrow bed made with clean, white linen, a fluffy-looking pillow, and a thick blanket. Luxury cell? She narrowed her eyes, wondering what was going on. The door was made of metal, but it had a window and she looked through, only to be faced with the back of a guard.

Another burst of exhaustion slammed into her, and Wave struggled to her bed before falling down. Her body was having a hard time adjusting to the power she’d wielded. She had burned through everything she could, but claiming the untapped well messed up her internal systems beyond belief. She was brimming with power and exhausted at the same time. If she tried to use any of it now, it would knock her unconscious in seconds.

Weirdly, being confined in a cell where no one talked to her, asked no questions, and wanted nothing from her was probably the best way to rest. Her shields held, if barely, and that was all that really mattered.

She had way more time to think between her naps. Food was delivered three times a day. She had a towel and a bar of soap. The water from the shower was lukewarm but not icy. The guards were direct but also polite. No haunted screams—besides her own that she tried to muffle into her pillow—echoed through the night.

She was already spiraling out of control.

The nightmares—memories—were back. She smelled the dank cellar, saw the dim light that wormed in through the cracks. No matter how warm her blanket was, she still woke up shivering. She had to keep her shit together or they would know.

Don’t give them anything.

Act normal.

Don’t cause a fuss.

You’ll get out of here.

She hung onto that last thought. There would be a trial over her unauthorized and not recognized heir apparent power use. Someday. Clearly, her case wasn’t high on anyone’s priority list after an attack on the neutral ground, but eventually, it would be her turn to face the consequences of her actions.