Page 22

A Stormy Siren’s Call

FOUR YEARS AGO

T he crunch of gravel beneath his feet accompanied the wind’s whisper as Nikhail stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him.

Tugging on the lapels of his suit jacket, he raised a brow at the expansive three-story mansion rising before him.

They were just outside Golden City, having passed through several suburban neighborhoods before entering the gated community that led them here.

He’d thought the wrought iron gates they’d driven through at the end of the driveway were a symbol of wealth, but they had just been a sign of what was to come.

Electric lanterns that looked like they belonged in the Four Kingdoms stood on both sides of the winding driveway.

Two stone statues of dragons faced either side of the massive double doors at the entrance.

The house, if the expansive structure could be called that, was luxury at its finest. From the perfectly placed bricks to the expertly manicured lawn and gardens, the entire place screamed of money .

Nikhail had never felt more out of place. He’d known Ryker had grown up differently than him, but this…

Gods, this was wealth on a level he’d never seen. His suit suddenly felt two sizes too small, his shoes were too tight, and his magic swirled uneasily in his veins.

“This is where you grew up?” Nikhail looked over his shoulder at the water fae unfolding himself from the driver’s seat. “It’s…”

“Enormous, I know.” Ryker sighed as he rounded the car, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “My mother has never heard of doing anything halfway, and her image means a lot to her. She wants to make sure the world knows she’s a Representative.”

Well, she’d certainly achieved that. No one but a Representative could afford a home like this.

“Will she be here?” Nikhail had never met the Waterborn matriarch, but he’d seen her on television with Chancellor Rose and other Representatives.

“No.” Ryker shook his head, heading up the stairs. “Mother is rarely home these days.”

Nikhail exhaled, his posture softening. He’d heard enough stories from Ryker to know that his mother wasn’t exactly easy to be around. He couldn’t relax entirely, though.

This house was equally lavish and ostentatious, and it had his skin crawling.

It was an impressively flagrant display of riches that would have his sisters perishing at the sight.

Mama’s apartment in Barren Ridge was tiny compared to this, and her entire complex could fit into this mansion three times over.

Ryker paused, his hand on the door. “Coming, Nik? I don’t want to linger outside.”

The request might’ve sounded strange to anyone else, but it didn’t faze Nikhail. Ryker had been like this ever since they met a few years ago. The water fae didn’t do much outside of work, and he kept an extremely low profile.

Nikhail wasn’t entirely sure why that was, but he didn’t want to pry. Everyone was allowed their secrets, especially if they weren’t hurting others.

“Absolutely.” He took the steps two at a time as Ryker opened the door.

If Nikhail had known they would be stopping at a mansion, he would’ve taken the time to shine his shoes and put on his best suit this morning. This was the kind of building that felt like it had a dress code, and even though he always dressed his best, Nikhail felt out of place here.

He was beginning to regret agreeing to swing by Ryker’s parents’ house. They’d been in a meeting, but it had ended early, so they had some time to spare before they were required back at the base. Ryker wanted to check on his dad and grab something from his parents’ library.

Nikhail had agreed to come, but that was before he’d known the Waterborns lived in a gods-damned chateau. He’d been to Ryker’s apartment, which was modest at best. He’d never expected this .

The doors opened, and Ryker led him into a lavish interior that was somehow more extravagant than the exterior. Nikhail hadn’t known that it was possible for air to smell of money, but it did.

“I’ll be right back,” Ryker called out as he moved purposely towards the stairs.

Nikhail nodded, unable to speak. This wasn’t just wealth. This was the kind of money that would make most people cry if they had a fraction of it.

His fists curled at his sides as he remembered his mother working herself past the brink of exhaustion to care for him and his sisters.

If she’d had access to some of this, she wouldn’t have had to work double shifts to pay for Laney’s medicine.

Maybe then, his father would’ve stuck around.

Maybe Nikhail wouldn’t have had to watch his mother struggle for years, exhausting herself to care for them after her husband left.

Anger sparked in his stomach as he thought about the piece of shit that had fathered him and his sisters.

He rarely thought about the man these days—the bastard had abandoned them when they needed him the most—and he shoved him out of his mind.

No man who left his children when one of them was sick deserved the title of “father.”

Letting his gaze wander, Nikhail drank in the paintings lining the walls of the elaborate foyer. They were beautiful, in a clinical, museum-like way. The entire place was cold, lacking all character, warmth, and feeling. He’d been in government buildings that were more inviting.

The air was cold and sterile, frigid like the doctors’ offices his family had frequented when Laney was young.

It was like the building’s architect had been so focused on making sure the entire world knew how wealthy the Waterborns were that they forgot that this was a place where people would actually have to live.

No wonder Ryker rarely came here. Nikhail wouldn’t want to come here either.

Opening his palm, he released tiny threads of magic as he strode from one painting to the other.

He directed the magic to his feet, muffling the sounds of his footsteps.

Somewhere in this giant home, Ryker’s sick father was resting.

Making noise in a building like this felt akin to shouting in a library. Wrong on a multitude of levels.

Nikhail was studying a painting of a handsome fae couple dressed as though they’d come from the Rose Empire when footsteps came from the second level.

“Ryker?” a soft, feminine voice called out. The sound of her approach grew louder. “I saw your car in the driveway, and I—oh.”

The lovely voice caught on an inhale, and something about the sound tugged on Nikhail’s insides. His feet were turning, spinning him around before he’d even registered that he was moving.

His eyes swept up the stairs, unaware that in a moment, his entire life was about to change. And then, he saw her.

His breath caught in his throat, and his fingers spasmed at his sides.

Nothing would ever be the same again. He had not known beauty before this moment, nor had he been in the presence of anyone so utterly captivating.

He’d heard that the fae gods had remained behind on the Obsidian Coast during the Great Migration, but the stories had clearly been mistaken, because a goddess stood before him.

She was frozen in place, her brown eyes wide as she stared at him.

Perhaps he should’ve moved or fallen in supplication at her feet, but he was as frozen as the stone dragons outside. His heart had stopped beating. His brain short-circuited. His lungs forgot how to draw breath.

Everything, including time itself, came to a standstill. His world stopped turning on its axis, recentering itself with her as the center of his universe.

When his heart resumed beating, it did so for her. When his brain started thinking once more, each thought was about her. When his lungs drew air, they brought him oxygen so he could serve her .

Everything was for her.

Every breath, every thought, every beat of his heart.

Long, luscious brown hair was pulled back in a silky high ponytail. A bright pink scrunchie matched her crop top. Black workout leggings hugged slender legs.

The goddess was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, but it was her face that caught his attention.

Exquisite brown orbs were studying him as much as he was studying her. Powerful tempests and barely contained, simmering power shone in her stormy gaze, threatening to change his world forever.

There was no peace there, but who needed peace anyway? Nikhail had always thought that the biggest winds were the most powerful, and the strongest storms were the most stunning.

And this woman…

Fucking gods.

To say that she was pretty would’ve been a disservice to the word itself. Fields of wildflowers were pretty. The paintings adorning the walls of Waterborn House were pretty. Sunsets were pretty.

But her?

This goddess wasn’t pretty. She wasn’t something as trivial as a flower or a painting or a sunset. She was the first whisper of a cool breeze on a hot summer’s day, a burst of color in a dark night, a candle in a lightless room.

Had he been breathing before? That no longer mattered. If he’d been thinking about something prior to her arrival, he no longer cared about it. He barely remembered his own name, let alone the reason he was here.

Nikhail had heard stories about things like this happening to fae before the Great Migration.

Connections that formed seemingly out of nowhere, drawing two or more fae together.

To be honest, he’d always thought the stories were just fairy tales.

Fables concocted by lovers to make sense of the lust they felt the moment they laid eyes on each other.

But now…

Now Nikhail was starting to believe that those stories had some truth behind them. He’d never felt a pull like this, never felt so drawn to anyone in his life.

His feet were moving him towards the goddess. She was still standing in the middle of the stairs, gripping the railing with her manicured hand.

“Who are you?” she asked softly.