Page 5 of Siren’s Secret

If utter silence could have turned deafening, it did so now. Wave desperately wanted to grind her teeth, shout, do anything, but she locked all that away. The well—the legacy of her father—was the one thing she had refused to claim as her own. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not when it meant admitting to herself that he was really gone.

One of the minor lords cleared his throat. Wave didn’t turn to look, locking eyes with the man who had been a threat to her existence since birth. She had been a pawn in his games too many times to count, and she had always played defense. Bend just enough, but not too much. Be a wild card, unreliable, but not a real threat to his authority. Do not push too far, like Father had done.

“Lord Stormwell?” the council member said but didn’t voice any actual question.

“Wayla.” Lord Stormwell didn’t ask anything either. It was all in the tone. They had been having this fight for a decade and now he finally had the upper hand. She was cornered, and she had no doubt he would force her hand.

“Fine,” she spat out.

“Fine, what?”

“Fine, I claim the title of the heir apparent to the Stormbringers. I am the daughter of Gileas Stormwell and rightful successor of the clan.” The binding words fell from her cold lips bitterly.

The power that had slammed into her the moment her father was murdered now belonged to her. Officially. It was already hers, but the magic recognized the words and the claim they held. It rushed forward and claimed her back. Wave didn’t need to look around to see that her aura was now crushing most beings in the room.

She could practically hear the clock for her life start ticking. It didn’t matter so much that Sinister knew about her other side. She was now a player in a very dangerous game. A puzzle piece that every other player on the board wanted to figure out.

The truth would come out. It always did.

“Happy now, Grandpa?” She barely managed to keep her tone civil, although the ice dripping from her fingertips didn’t exactly portray control.

“Of course, Wayla darling. This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he replied before looking at the people gaping at both of them. “I trust this takes care of this little issue?” He didn’t wait for them to reply. There were only a few beings in the worlds that truly merited his respect and time, and none of them were here today.

Grandfather pointed at the headmaster, who was standing to one side. “I trust that you’ll correct your records promptly and make sure my granddaughter enjoys all the things her status merits. I’ll be in touch.”

With that, he walked out of the room. As the door closed behind him, the room erupted. Wave stood in the center of it all, trying to convince herself to breathe.

It wasn’t the end of the worlds. Not yet.

Chapter 3 – Marc

Marc stared at Wayla, standing alone on the floor, and he couldn’t think. Everyone around him seemed to have something to say, but most of those things were whispered. As if enhanced hearing wasn’t a thing most creatures here had.

Slowly, Marc took a moment to look around himself. Lord Stormwell’s exit had pulled most of the attention and the council member was rapidly talking to the headmaster, who was looking quite pale.

His eyes slid down, back to Wayla, who hadn’t moved. Her cold, closed-off expression hadn’t changed either. She looked nothing like the woman he remembered. There were lines around her mouth and a shallow pallor to her skin. Even her hair looked dull.

All that paled in comparison to the power she now radiated. It came off her in waves, ebbing and flowing, and Marc could only imagine how it must feel. An heir apparent. She obviously hadn’t wanted to claim the title. That much was clear even to his befuddled brain.

Next to Marc, Hellion was fuming and a little snarl broke free from him. Marc wasn’t sure if Hellion was furious at Wayla or for her. He would understand the change claiming the title would bring, but Marc wasn’t going to ask right now. Sinister and Zahir were talking rapidly, actually too quiet to overhear.

Restless people, milling around, continued past them and, from the corner of his eye, Marc saw Jarred slip away with Justin following him. Jarred hadn’t been happy with any of them since the fight in the cellar. Not that Marc could blame him much. At least he was still talking to them, if curtly.

The niggling feeling that he had fucked up more than he had thought started to build in his gut, but he wasn’t willing to poke at it quite yet. And it seemed that his fake ex-girlfriend had held even more secrets than he ever could have imagined.

Marc blinked when someone broke free from the group and approached Wayla. Angel-boy. Marc wanted to snarl like Hellion did but held himself in check. Every time he turned around, there he was with Wayla. She turned to face him and shook her head in reply to whatever his question had been. Then she nodded.

Angel-boy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started to guide her from the room.

HE should have torn his wings out when the thought first crossed his mind.

Hellion snapped into action and he marched toward the two of them and Sinister immediately broke free from Zahir and grabbed Hellion’s arm, yanking him to a stop.

Marc rushed over, just in time to hear Sinister.

“…not here.”

“She’s—”