Page 71

Esmyra

A spear rested in Esmyra’s hand, its wooden shaft unfamiliar in her grasp as she faced down Draevyn on the opposite side of the garden.

He spun his own spear in one hand, a practiced, almost lazy movement that only made her grip her weapon tighter.

They hadn’t talked about the prior evening—truthfully, she didn’t know what to say. It seemed to all be laid bare before them, but now the cuff encircling his wrist could complicate things if they ever found a way out.

“Where did you even find these?” he asked with an amused lilt to his voice. “I’m surprised they offered to hand over weapons. Especially after yesterday.”

“Oh, they didn’t. I followed Azarian and took them from a weaponry room on the third floor.” Esmyra shrugged. “I doubt they’ll mind.”

“Such a little thief you are, Wildfire.”

That name.

“Old habits and all.” She winked as the corner of her lip lifted. “Although, I’m not the one with fire in my veins, Son of Irah.”

His eyes traced over her body, and her skin prickled beneath his gaze. “I wouldn’ t be so sure.”

Esmyra turned her face away as heat rose to her cheeks.

Staring at the spear in her hand, she twirled it between her fingers. “Think you’re ready for a real fight?” she taunted, her stance lowering as she shifted her weight, watching his every move.

Draevyn’s smirk morphed into a devilish grin. “You might want to worry about yourself,” he said, settling into a stance. “But feel free to prove me wrong.”

Without another word, she lunged, closing the gap between them with a swift strike aimed at his chest. He sidestepped as his spear met hers in a sharp clash.

The impact reverberated up her arms as he pushed back, forcing her to plant her feet more firmly.

The force in his strikes made it clear he was going easy on her, and it only aggravated her all the more.

The faint grin on his face was just begging her to wipe it away.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted.

Esmyra glared and pulled her spear back, this time aiming a swipe at his legs. He blocked her with a downward swing, lifting his arm against her to hold her back.

And then, with a twist, Draevyn broke their hold and thrust his spear toward her side. She dodged, feeling the faint whisper of the blade brush past her.

Her heart pounded, but she grinned as her body kept up with his.

Their spears clashed again, a fierce ringing sound that reverberated in the quiet garden. She pushed forward, testing his defenses, but he was faster than anticipated— always faster than her without the use of her magic.

With a quick twist of his spear, he knocked her weapon from her grasp and lunged. Draevyn’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body flush against his chest, and lifted her feet from the ground.

The moment their bodies pressed against each other, her mind scattered.

Draevyn’s spear was held to her throat, cool against her skin, but all she could focus on was him—the strength of his arm pinning her to him, the steady heat radiating from his chest against hers.

The weight of his gaze made her breath hitch, her pulse racing far beyond what was caused by the act of sparring .

Kaelypso’s tits, Esmi, she cursed herself, but it was impossible to ignore the way his eyes locked onto hers.

Draevyn’s breath was warm against her cheek, his scent of cedar and leather clouding her thoughts.

Esmyra was supposed to shove him back and throw out some witty retort, but her voice failed her, trapped somewhere in her throat. With his hand at her waist, his fingers pressing into her skin like he had no intention of letting go, she found herself frozen.

His closeness left her disoriented. She didn’t want to admit to herself that seeing that spark in his eyes—for her —had a warmth pooling between her thighs.

It was inappropriate.

It was infuriating.

It was possessive .

And it thrilled her like nothing else ever had.

When he leaned in, his words were a whisper against her ear, his voice soft but threaded with something darker. “Maybe next time, you’ll be faster.”

Her whole body tensed before he finally let her go and placed her on the ground.

Draevyn’s eyes were dark and fixed on her. “Give up?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble with a grin stretching ear-to-ear.

Esmyra swallowed, defiant despite the thrill sparking down her spine. “Only in your dreams, Phoenix.”

The playful taunts faded, replaced by a tension that felt more dangerous than anything she had found herself up against before.

The quiet of the garden shattered as the staff flooded in, tending to the surrounding greenery. Esmyra straightened, instinctively stepping back from him as he lowered his spear.

“Well,” he drawled, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around at the bustling servants, “looks like our session is done for the day.” His gaze flicked back to her, halting just long enough to make her heart race again.

She jutted her hip to the side. “Next time, I won’t go easy on you. ”

“Good,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Would hate to think I intimidated you.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips. As she turned to walk away, she felt his gaze follow her, the weight of it sending a chill through her.

Just as she reached the garden’s edge, Draevyn called after her, “Don’t get too worn out with her. I don’t want you to come here with more excuses tomorrow.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Not a chance!”

With that, she found herself counting down until the following morning, when they would continue this dangerous dance—a dance she found herself craving.

Esmyra was surprised to find today’s meeting with Syrena wasn’t back in the tower they had been held up in the last several days, but instead, was out on the edges of their city. She was thankful Syrena’s anger from the prior night didn’t seem to continue into the following day.

A secluded lagoon stretched before them, the soft waves lapping at the shore, and the air fragrant with the scent of salt and wildflowers. Bright merlights danced across the water’s surface, shimmering like scattered diamonds.

“Esmyra,” Syrena said as she took a step up to her side, “did you know you were born with gifts that extend far beyond the manipulation of water?”

Esmyra already knew that, and it was how she found out she wasn’t a typical siren shifter as mentioned in any of the texts she had pried through over the years. It only made her believe she may be mixed with some other race—perhaps elven.

Syrena gestured toward the lagoon. “First, you must connect with the creatures of our world.” Esmyra took a few steps toward the water as her sister continued.

“You see, our people aren’t only that of our kingdom, but all creatures of the sea.

They’re under our protection. They trust us, and they work with us as needed.

But first, you must learn to understand them. ”

Kneeling at the lagoon’s edge, Esmyra placed her hands in the cool, clear water, feeling the pulse of it beneath her palms.

“Drown out the world and all of our surroundings and listen,” Syrena instructed.

Esmyra closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to tune out the world around her. At first, there was only the sound of the waves and the gentle breeze rustling through the tall grasses along the shore.

But soon, she sensed it—a faint whisper coming from beneath the surface.

She opened her eyes, focusing on a school of vibrant fish darting playfully in the shallows. They paused as if sensing her presence, their tiny forms shimmering from their scales.

A wave of unfamiliar excitement washed over her as she whispered, “They don’t fear me.”

“Of course they don’t,” Syrena said, a bit of confusion in her tone.

Syrena kneeled in the sand alongside her. “Now, reach out to them. Speak to them as they speak to you.”

Focusing again, Esmyra concentrated on the fish, allowing her mind to blend with theirs. Images of the ocean’s depths flooded her thoughts—coral reefs, open water, and the rhythm of the tides beyond their dome.

It was exhilarating, feeling their trust and connection. Though an undeniable sadness came with it, feeling for herself how much they longed to be beyond the prison Maerinys had fallen into.

“Now, for something a little more challenging,” Syrena started. “Have you ever shifted into something that is not your siren form?”

A smirk formed on Esmyra’s lips. “Aye.”

She lowered the tips of her fingers to the ground, and the skin of her hand immediately morphed, blending in effortlessly with the grains of sand.

Syrena’s eyes flared. “Well, then,” she started as she began a slow clap. “It appears you’re already several steps ahead.”

Esmyra couldn’t help her prideful smile as she allowed her skin to take its normal hue. “It’s a fun little trick I enjoy using on shore. Though, it is a bit of a pain if clothing is involved.”

Syrena chuckled as she stood. “Well, what if I were to tell you that, in time, that may no longer be the case?”

Esmyra’s brows furrowed as she rose to stand at her side. “What? How?”

“Anything is possible.” Syrena winked.

Esmyra’s lips parted—the question she’d been yearning to ask for days settling on the edge of her tongue. “And you believe that includes raising Maerinys?”

No matter how desperately she wanted to help, she still wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible—nor that she would be the key to doing it.

Syrena took her hands and looked into her eyes as she said, “I believe it with every fiber of my being, Esmyra. But in order to summon the power it would take to raise Maerinys…it has to be wanted . It will take both of us. I cannot do it myself. Believe me when I say I’ve tried to unlock the power.

You and I are two halves of the same whole. ”

“Wanted?” Esmyra nearly gasped on a half-laugh. “Of course I want it. Why wouldn’t I? Why would I even be here trying, if not?”