Page 45 of Lore of the Tides

Lore climbed up on the bed and examined the window for a weakness in the wooden sill. She’d never found a weakness before, but goddess, if she could find a weak spot, she could pry it up. Lore heaved a frustrated shout, slamming her hand onto the wall. This fuck-ass ship seemed to be honed from a single tree. Fucking fae and their ridiculous craftsmanship.

Was this how she died?

Imprisoned by the male she’d once loved?

Drowned in bloodied water?

No. She wouldn’t fuckinghaveit.

By now the voices above had gone quiet. The ship groaned. It was not going to sink to the bottom of the ocean without its cries of outrage. Lore, angry, roared with it. She cried out to the gods and goddesses who had never done anything to protect her. Who had begot life but offered nothing but suffering.

She dug her fingers into the quilt and cursed them for it.

And then she heard the key being slid sideways, the locking mechanism detach, and the wretched doorknob begin to turn.

Please be Finndryl, free from below, come to save her.

Lore held her breath as a shadowy figure shoved at the door.

Would it be Syrelle who came to let her out of his prison?

Inch by agonizing inch, the gap widened, revealing slivers ofdarkness beyond. A flicker of reflected light caught her eye—an iridescent sheen dancing along the shadows that seeped in from the arching door.

Lore’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the suffocating silence.

Then, with a swish, the door swung wide, revealing a nightmare encased in the doorframe.

Scales, like polished gemstones, shimmered under the dim light filtering through the window. Each one a kaleidoscope of emerald and sapphire, reflecting the terror in Lore’s wide eyes. But it was the maw that stole her breath, gleaming with predatory hunger—a row of sharp teeth with tapered canines, made for ripping flesh from bone, sawing through muscle and sinew. Fingers, too long and slender, tipped with webbing that stretched between each bonelike digit, reached for her.

Lore’s hands tightened on the bedpost, a quiet plea escaping her lips before she could stop it. “No,” she whispered, the word stifled with dawning horror.

The creature’s head tilted, unblinking eyes like liquid emeralds fixing on her.

And then, from the depths of that horrifying mouth, a melodic note resonated through the room, cold and seductive, a guarantee of oblivion.

Lore wished that the key had not been found. That the door had not been opened. One word clanged through Lore’s mind before it no longer belonged to her, but to the creature itself.

Siren.

Chapter 15

Are you what all this fuss is about?” The siren’s voice was dulcet and curious. Lore relaxed her grip on the bedpost, the tightness in her jaw; the candlestick in her other hand fell from limp fingers.

She shrugged the terror from her body like a shawl.

But...Wait, her mind pleaded,wait.

Shouldn’t she be afraid? Her pulse picked up its frenetic drumbeat once more. This was one of the creatures that attacked the ship. This ship may have been her prison for weeks, but...

It’s better the demon you know, right?

The creature waded through the water on scale-covered legs; the siren wore a shimmering purple, scaled armored vest cinched tightly over a gossamer gown of vermillion and chartreuse, the color of an algae bloom swaying in the water. The siren’s eyes were large and gleamed like a forest reflected on water, and Lore could not look away from them. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the striking face at all. The creature was predatory, beautiful, terrifying. Shoulder-length brown tresses floated around the siren’s deep-brown face like they weren’t sure what they were supposed to do when not underwater.

“Are you my savior, my captor, or my end?” Lore asked.

The siren blinked. “Maybe I am none of those.”

Lore frowned. “What else could there be?”