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She begins walking again, and I decide to use the opportunity to learn more about this place and these sirens who were supposed to be brutal killers, but if Evelyn is like the others, then I can’t see them hurting a soul, unless sex with a siren can kill.

The very thought has all the blood in my body rushing south. I quickly push the thought away.

“What are the storms that surround your island?” I remember just before they hit, both the sea and sky were clear.

There were no dark clouds, no white capped waves.

There wasn’t even an island. One moment we were sailing with the sun beating down on our backs, the next, rain, raging winds, and waves higher than the ship crashed down on us.

“I’m not sure. They’ve been there my entire life. They have been a part of this place for centuries.” There is a waiver of trepidation in her voice. It makes me wonder if she is hiding something from me or if she truly doesn’t know the answer.

“My people do not know about this island. It’s not on any map or in any history books.” I try to see her reaction to that news, but she's in front of me, and there is no change in her demeanor, making me think she already knows this.

“What is your home like?” She asks suddenly, slowing down until I catch up to her.

I raise a brow at the question, “It’s—well, it’s less of a jungle like this and more of a city. Actually, now that I think of it, there aren’t many plants at all in the major city where I live. I probably have most of them locked up in my greenhouse.”

She tilts her head and we continue our slow walk, “What’s a greenhouse?”

I smile at her wide eyes, amused by the keen interest she has for my homeland. “It’s a glass building where you can grow plants like all of these.” I motion to the lush wildlife around us, noticing a specific flower I haven’t yet seen on our walk.

“What is this flower called?” I ask, bending down to a bright blue bud with several long orange stems shooting up from its center and reaching out towards it. “It’s so unique.”

“Don’t touch that!” She yells, grabbing my hand and pulling it back. “That plant is toxic. It has venom in the orange spines that will make you feel like your entire body is on fire.”

“Interesting,” I muse, and she pins me with an amused look.

“You are a strange man, aren’t you?”

I snort, “Most people where I come from would say so.”

“Tell me more about your home, please. I’ve heard so little about the other lands outside the storms.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say my home is the most fascinating.

It’s actually a rather harsh place to live.

The entirety of Halvendor has been at war for—well, since our elven king left almost two hundred years ago.

Wars were fought, and they still are over land.

My own province has a wall around the city, housed with hundreds of soldiers in case of an attack. ”

“What are provinces?”

“Sections of land that have been claimed and taken over by those with the power or means to do so. Several centuries ago, our kingdom was thriving and at peace. Some have even said it was a time of great magic, full of the mythical creatures in our story books.” I shake my head and chuckle, “I didn’t believe that before, but maybe there is some truth to it, seeing as I’m standing in the presence of one of those mythical creatures right now. ”

Evelyn doesn’t say anything, just studies me intently, hanging on my every word.

“Anyway,” I continue, running a hand through my tangled locks, “a few centuries ago, the elven royal family suddenly disappeared, and whatever magic or creatures, if there were any, vanished with them, leaving the land vulnerable and weak. Those who were once powerful found themselves depleted and unable to defend their homes. Many took advantage of the feeble state of Halvendor, killing populations and stealing land for their own.” I stop, shaking my head at the world I live in.

Part of me has always gone to my plants as a way to escape the cruelty that surrounds me. Even my own father has been a part of the cruelty of war, securing the rulership of the province I am trying to get away from inheriting. I don’t want all that blood on my hands.

“No one has been able to sit the throne and hold it since the ruling family left. It’s a big part of why there is so much war and unrest in Halvendor.

Everyone wants control, but no one can keep it for long.

” With a heavy sigh, I continue, “Now we have set borders between areas of land, heavily guarded. My father is the head of our province and he isn’t doing well.

” I clear my throat, rubbing a hand along the tightness that has begun to twist in my chest. “If I can’t find my brother, I'm next in line to take over the province, and I… don’t want to. ”

“So you could be the next ruler of your people?” Her brows shoot up in surprise.

I huff out a laugh, “Not like a King or anything, just our small city. There are only about six hundred people living there, and we work mostly in shipping. I just have no interest in any of it. I don’t want to have to worry about the company or trying to make sure peace remains in the province. Maybe that makes me weak or selfish.”

I rub at my chest, the tightness there growing, because it is weak and selfish.

It’s the entire reason I am even in this situation.

I don’t want responsibility. I look around at where I am, at the woman leading me through the jungle, and shake my head.

Just look at where my selfishness has landed me, stranded on an island, but at least it’s full of beautiful women, even if they are sirens.

“I understand,” Evelyn says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I want nothing more than to leave this cursed island and see the world. This place is all we sirens know. We’ve been here for centuries.”

“Well, if we find my brother and get off this island, you are more than welcome to come with us back to our province. Maybe we can finally put the myth of the bloodthirsty sirens to rest.” I smile softly.

She returns the gesture, but there is something in the way it doesn’t reach her eyes. I sense a lingering sadness in her gaze. I have a mind to ask her what’s wrong, but before I have the chance, we are at the edge of the forest and I can hear voices beyond.

“Welcome to our home,” Evelyn says as we push our way through the trees and onto another picturesque beach, however this one is covered in huts—dozens of them.

There are even huts up in the palm trees lining the beach with roped walkways between them and rope ladders going up the trees. It looks like something from a story.

“Come, the Elders will want to meet you.” She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the largest of the huts.

It is decorated with white flowers and carvings of not only sirens but different sea creatures and what looks like possibly a few humans.

I don’t get to look for long before Evelyn pulls me into the large, round space where four intensely gorgeous women sit in chairs made entirely out of seashells.

I momentarily think that the seats can’t be comfortable for the women, but they seem perfectly content. Ethereal even.

“Another batch of survivors so soon after the last?” One of the women says, “Where did you find him? And where have you been for the last day, Evelyn?”

She is probably the oldest of the four, although she looks no more than thirty. She has thick red hair that is braided into a coil atop her head, her skin, though tanned, is smooth and unmarred with age as her scales subtly shift between silver and bronze.

I gulp as she stands up and walks around the table she is sitting behind.

She is completely nude, and I force my eyes to stay on her face.

I won’t show any weakness in front of these women.

They exude power and grace in a way that makes me want to do whatever they tell me to.

I blink, trying to shake that feeling away.

The three other so-called Elders all join the first, and I bite the insides of my cheek trying not to make a sound, all of them fully nude as well. None of them look older than myself, and my heartbeat begins to quicken at their closeness. I can feel the power radiating from each of them.

Have I actually just landed myself on an island full of naked women?

This is any man's dream. I pinch myself to make sure I’m not actually dreaming.

If Dru was here somewhere alive, I can see why he might have stayed.

This is a utopia compared to our home. The thought of my brother sparks what the Elder woman just said, ‘another batch of survivors so soon’.

Does that mean someone from my brother’s ship wrecked on these shores, too, and survived? It has to be Dru. I need it to be Dru.

“Take him to the men’s hut with the others and then come back here.

We need to speak with you, Evelyn, before tonight's cleansing ceremony,” another of the Elders says as she walks toward me.

Her hair is pitch black and braided intricately down her back, leaving everything uncovered for me to see.

I gulp and clear my throat, trying not to look at her erect nipples as she circles me, looking at my body in a way that has my skin crawling.

It’s not sensual, but more like she is sizing up an animal for slaughter.

Evelyn must sense my discomfort because she brushes the back of her hand lightly against mine. The contact instantly sends a warmth through me, one that I reach for. I don’t want to leave her side while on this island.

“Yes, Florence,” Evelyn says, bowing her head to each of the Elder women and then grabbing my hand and pulling me from the large cottage.

“What was that?” I asked.

“They must inspect all new men who come ashore. It is our custom.”

“Inspect?” I raise a brow, “For what reason?”

“It’s just how things are done here.” She brushes the question off quickly and it sends a flurry of unease through me. She is definitely hiding something from me.

I allow her to pull me through the maze of huts along the beach and into the copse of trees behind them, to where a large hut is built into the trunks of several large palms high overhead.

I look up at it, amazed at its carpentry.

It looks so different from the huts on the beach and reminds me of some of the smaller wooden structures from home.

“This is where the men stay. One of them built this place for themselves, and he has always welcomed newcomers to stay with him there.” That explains why it looks so different.

I follow her up a ladder, which consists of pieces of wood nailed into the trunk of the largest tree, and go straight through the center of the building.

I’m not sure what I expected to see as I climbed my way up into the large space, but I most definitely didn’t expect to see an orgy happening right in front of us.

Moans of delight and ecstasy echo toward us, and I can’t peel my eyes away from the group of two men and four sirens all locked together in a pretzel of limbs and lust.

“I—my god,” I whisper and Evelyn grabs my hand pulling me away from the group and into another area of the treehouse far away from the sounds of the orgy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they would be doing that this early in the day.”

“So that’s a recurring event?”

“Um…well, yes,” her cheeks turn that lavender color again, noting she is blushing.

Just then, a man comes through a door at the opposite side of the room we are in. He is tall with short hair so light it looks almost white, tanned skin, eyes that seem to glow with a strange golden brown, and ears with a subtle point at the top.

“Katarina told me there was another new sailor to join our home. Happy to welcome you,” the man says, smiling with a large toothy grin. I can’t help but notice the points at the tip of his incisors.

Something about his smile, the way he is tilting his head a little to the right, and those strange, pointed ears, ignite a long-lost memory inside my mind. “Do I know you?” I ask him.

He chuckles, extending out a hand for me to shake, “I highly doubt it. The name’s Mathius. Pleased to meet you.”

I take his hand, which practically engulfs my own with how large it is. “Kai,” I offer numbly, staring at him, trying to place the face and the name in my head. Where do I know him from?

“Come on, let me take you to where you will be staying.”

I nod, but can’t shake the feeling of familiarity I get in his presence. He’s from Halvendor, I’m certain of it.

I narrow my eyes at the back of his head as I follow him into my new living quarters.