Page 38 of Siren’s Secret

Jarred jerked. Hope that he would keep his mouth shut. “You think I would go around telling anyone that you are a… siren?” He had a hard time even getting the word out. Wayla—he just couldn’t think of her as Wave—shrugged.

“There are plenty of beings willing to pay handsomely for that information. Especially now.”

Frowning, Jarred felt like his brain still wasn’t working on all cylinders. It took way too long for him to connect the dots. “A stormbringer heir and a siren.” As the new heir apparent, people were going to try to find out everything they could about her.

She shrugged. “That. And being a siren is not the healthiest state in the best of times.”

“But why are you telling me this?”

Now she turned to face him and some of that detached mask fell, letting him see bone-deep hurt and salty tears gathering in her eyes.

“Because I was hoping…” She swallowed and shook her head. “Stupid. I should have known.” She pulled her legs out of the ocean and got up. “I’ll tell the captain to take you back.”

Hurriedly, Jarred reached over and clasped her ankle. “Wayla, wait.” She looked down at him and tried to pull free. When he didn’t let go, something cracked in her eyes and she stilled. He didn’t know why that made his heart ache and his hand fell off her.

She stood, completely motionless. Silent. Jarred had a horrible feeling that they were on the edge of something and whatever his next move was would decide a lot of things.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, hoping it was the right thing. “I promise I won’t hold you if you want to leave, but please stay.”

Wayla blinked furiously and moved to sit again, but farther away from him. Out of arm’s reach. She waited for him to speak, but Jarred wasn’t sure what to say. He rubbed at his neck and flinched when his hand made contact with the bruise. The same bruise he had been so proud of only hours ago.

“Fuck.” The word slipped free, and Wayla’s eyes moved over to him. When she saw him prodding the bruise, she blanched.

“Yeah. That about sums it up. Really, I’m sorry. I never should have…” She sighed morosely. “Well, it could be worse.” She rubbed at her wrists and Jarred frowned. He had seen her do that before.

“Wayla, I—”

“Really, Jarred, it’s… Well, I’d be lying if I said it’s fine, but let’s go with that. You can just walk back to the plane and fly home. You’ll never hear from me again.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Find some nice tropical island,” she replied with an empty smile. For once, Jarred was certain she was lying to him.

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Jarred growled.

Wayla shuddered and when she spoke, her voice was quiet, fragile, and her gaze locked over the ocean. “Sirens have been hunted for ages. We’ve been captured, tortured, enslaved, killed. When all we want is to be free.”

Jarred swallowed. He had nothing to say, no words to refute her claims. Wave kept talking, and now it was clearly Wave; her voice was even, eyes empty.

“Free. It’s such a simple word. A concept that most creatures take for granted, except maybe demons. They know a thing or two about being bound.”

“Wave,” he choked over her real name, but she ignored him.

“When I was born, Mother sang up the rocks from the sea. All siren mothers do that if they are able, but Mom… she sang them up from the deepest crevices, bathed them with power, blood, and sacrifice. Father called down a storm so strong no creature would bother her.”

“There’s no storm—” Jarred began, but Wave cut him off.

“I was born in the eye of a category five hurricane, Jarred. Anyway,” she continued over his shocked expression, “sirens are bound to their birthplace by the curse living in our blood. The only way to break free is through love or the life of a creature. You know from history which option most of us chose.”

“Then how did you…” He couldn’t bring himself to ask directly.

“Mom made sure to have a life ready and waiting,” Wave said and her hand absentmindedly caressed the tiny dagger sheath necklace she was always wearing. “I took my first kill when I was only a couple of hours old.”

She gave out a loud cry that hurt his ears and the sheath opened, revealing the tiniest dagger he had ever seen. It shone blood red and pulsed in the light. “I carry it still, as a reminder,” Wave said before sheathing it again and returning it to harmless-looking jewelry.