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Story: Lured by the Siren

Evelyn

M y heart aches as I stare off at the impending wreck, and I rub my hand on my chest at the very thought of watching another man gasp his final breath beneath the sea, all because we couldn’t get there in time.

I would love nothing more than to rescue another group of sailors from certain death, but I can’t bear to be there if we are too late.

I watch my siren sisters stay just beyond the angry white peaked sea, waiting to see if the ship will make it or inevitably need their help. To the untrained eye, they simply look like shimmering reflections on the water thanks to their scales.

A clap of thunder echoes across the sea and I jump, startling myself and turning from the harrowing scene, deciding my time is better spent preparing medical supplies for a new batch of men who will be resigned to this fate they didn’t choose.

Heading up the beach to the cove where some of my favorite healing plants thrive, my mind drifts to where the men on that ship might be from.

The sand shifts under my feet, and I get lost in the musing of whimsical far-off kingdoms, fishermen happily coming and going from our shores, and a whole bustling world just beyond the storm clouds.

Rounding a bend, I take a deep breath and soak in the moments of peace before the chaos.

The sky just above the island is a crystal clear blue, and a flock of seagulls pass overhead.

I feel a pang of jealousy at their freedom.

They seem to be one of the few creatures that can pass undetected through the storms.

If only I had wings instead of a tail.

My favorite hiding spot is a secluded cove just a brisk walk from the village. It comes into view, and I decide to lie down on the damp sand, wanting a few more blissful moments of solitude before gathering supplies.

Gentle waves slowly lap up my legs, and they begin to transform into a tail of purple and green scales.

Moments like these remind me of how much I love being a siren, hearing the ocean’s call, the feeling of diving under the waves, and my magic, but I would give all of that up if it meant I wasn’t born here on Kafigda.

Watching the sea undulate far out on the horizon, I let the sound of the incoming tide lull me to a dreamless sleep.

When my eyes flutter open again, I let out a yawn and stretch my hands above my head, sitting up.

The tide has escaped further down the beach while I was sleeping, and my tail is back to a pair of green and purple scaled legs.

I brush off the sand and blink slowly against the setting sun that’s just meeting the line of the horizon.

A flash catches my eye, and I see something reflecting off the water. There is an object bobbing up and down against the waves, several lengths from shore. It looks like it could be a person.

For a moment, I think the ocean must be playing tricks on me because it suddenly disappears, but I rub my eyes and stand quickly, making my way to the edge of the water. I feel a pulling need to go out and investigate.

Without waiting to see if it resurfaces, I dive into the shallow water, swimming out to discover the mystery waiting for me in the open sea.

The storm must be happy to have an entire ship of new victims, because the further I swim from the shore, the rougher the waters become.

The sea here is usually much calmer, but the storm seems to be stretching, possibly searching for the same thing I am.

Being a siren has its perks, but sometimes even having a tail and breathing underwater isn’t enough to fight the magic of the storms.

I break free of a rather aggressive current and breach the surface, searching for whatever was bobbing there.

I finally spot it, or rather him—it’s a man.

Dark blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, and something reflects off his face. He begins to sink beneath the surface, and I quickly swim to him, but just as I reach out to grab hold of his arm, a wave crashes between us, pulling him completely under.

I dive down in search of the drowning man, and my heart beats loudly in my ears as I see him sinking into the dark depths below.

He's tangled in a mess of ropes, only making him sink faster, and I desperately push through the ocean for him, tail whipping with powerful flicks until I grasp his limp hand.

With one robust tug, I free him from the debris and hurry, swimming as fast as possible with a full-grown man in tow to the surface.

This man is heavier than he looks, and for all my efforts, might already be dead.

Pulling him onto shore and into my secluded cove, I scold myself, wondering how I could make such an impulsive decision. Did I just doom another man to a life on this floating prison?

Sand sticks to every bit of his exposed flesh, and I take a moment to check for a pulse, inspecting him further. Thankfully, he has a pulse, and I continue looking over him.

His light hair is just long enough to begin to curl at the ends, his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw stir something deep in my belly. A fluttering of butterflies as I examine him further. My hands are still on his wrist, and I can feel his pulse growing weaker beneath my touch.

Blood is slowly dripping down his face from a wound just below his hairline, and I cautiously move his wet hair to get a closer look.

Bright red oozes from the gash and trails down the side of his face, just then the sand beneath him begins to darken into a deep crimson.

Panicking, I roll him to his side, searching for the source and find a large slice across his back. The skin gapes open, and I notice how pale he’s become. He’s losing too much blood. This man is surely doomed.

As calmly as I can, I begin singing the song I know best, one used for healing, and hope it’s enough to stitch these wounds back together. If only I could replenish the blood he has already lost, but this will have to be enough.

While all siren’s magic is similar, some are more skilled at certain aspects than others. I’ve never mastered mind manipulation like many of my sisters, my greatest gift has always been to heal, and I spend much of my free time practicing and learning all I can.

Whenever I stumble upon an injured creature, I sing my song, letting the words and my voice swirl around them, correcting and healing their ailments. An albatross with a broken wing, a turtle with a crack in its shell, one of the girls or men who had a little too much fun—I work to heal them all.

If I can't leave this place, I want to leave a lasting impact at least and help all that I can while I'm trapped here.

The wound on the man's hairline begins to stitch together, and the bleeding stops as I focus on the second wound along his back. I let the song hum through me, and it tingles on my lips.

It’s a melody I know almost as well as the pattern of my emerald and lilac scales.

I watch as both gashes fully knit back together, and I gently lay his head onto the sand. Hurrying to the shoreline's edge, I gather clusters of seaweed that the retreating tide has left behind.

While my song can heal wounds, the magic comes at a cost. I can quickly exhaust myself until I require healing of my own. My healing song pulls from my own health and energy.

Heading back to the cover, I gather additional supplies from the stash I put together earlier in the day and begin to wrap his torso with seaweed.

My fingers brush his rib cage and up along his chest, feeling his warmth.

I let my hands travel up to linger just above the side of his face.

Resisting the urge to touch him, I take another second to drink him in while he’s unconscious.

His sweeping eyelashes flutter beneath the reflective device sitting on his face, and I can't help but notice how handsome he is. Not in the rugged way most sailors here are, but in a more refined and polished way.

All sharp angles and crisp lines.

His white long-sleeved shirt is plastered to his skin, smoothing over his defined chest and down his flat stomach, leaving very little to the imagination.

He's wearing dark trousers and tall boots that look barely broken in. Shiny buttons run along the sides, reminding me of a pair I’ve seen one of the other sailors wear, I just can’t place which one.

As I examine the strange device on his face, I notice a crack on its surface that seems beyond repair. I carefully peel them from him, resisting the urge to caress his smooth jawline and delicately place them on the rock beside me.

While the men I’ve bedded before have all been attractive in their own ways, I feel a tug deep in my core for this man.

A longing that I have never felt before.

He stands out from the other men on the island, a striking contrast that draws me to admire his beauty.

His features are more delicate, as if he was painted by an artist's gentle touch.

Smooth skin glistens in the dying sunlight and is unmarred by the harshness of labor or scars of battle. He is flawless.

His long lashes brush the top of his cheeks, which I notice are starting to regain a healthy pink hue.

The golden curls that cover his head look as soft as the fine sand that runs along the beach, and my fingers itch to rake through them.

His expansive shoulders and slim hips have me dreaming of matching all of his sharp edges with my soft curves.

Reaching out, I sweep away the curl that keeps falling onto his face, letting my hand brush along the side of his head before placing another piece of the plant across his wound. I sit back on my scaled legs and wait for him to take a full breath.

My mind wanders to places it shouldn’t, as I imagine what it would be like to be pinned down by him as he makes me gasp out in pleasure. What would it be like to try one of those new positions Kat always goes on about, with him?

I close my eyes, falling into a dream of kissing him along his jaw and trailing my lips down his sculpted chest all the way to the curved edge of his hip bone.

A shudder of pleasure moves through me, and I think about all the moments that I’ve been taking for myself lately.

A woman has needs after all.

I think about how I’ve explored myself, allowing my fingers to expertly coax the waves of pleasure I seek.

The moans I can’t hold back as I work my fingers inside my center, finding my release, but now I picture not mine, but his strong fingers in their place.

And then my mind shifts to dreams of his thick, hard cock pressing slowly at my entrance, opening me and filling me fully.

I groan at the thought, letting my daydream go farther as I see myself seated atop him, rocking against his length, imagining its smooth feel coated with my desire.

I bite my lip as I picture him thrusting into me until my orgasm crashes through me in glorious waves, his own release following quickly.

My eyes shoot open, the daydream vanishing instantly as the man makes a small sound.

“Pull it together, Evelyn. He’s just like every other man who’s come here. What are you getting so worked up for?” I chastise myself, but something about this feels different. I’ve never had such an instant connection to anyone who’s washed up on these shores.

I haven’t even seen his eyes or heard his voice.

Suddenly, he coughs, attempting to purge what seems like the entire contents of the sea out on the beach.

He releases a final cough, squinting in my direction so much that I can’t see the color of his eyes. “Where am I? Wh-what happened?”

“Shhh, it’s alright. You’re safe now. Lay back down, please. You’re hurt.” I pleaded with him, placing my hands on either side of his shoulders, lowering him to the ground.

His eyes fluttered closed again. His breathing is shallow and labored, which worries me, but he seems to have passed out again.

I fear my healing song is not enough to fully fix his ailments. He’s going to need rest and constant monitoring over the next few days.

I look up to the sky, the blue now replaced by the streaks of purple and orange as the sun makes its final descent.

I curse to myself, I can’t carry him all the way back to the village myself.

Of course, I can always leave him and get help.

I’m sure Mathius, the strongest of the men back in the village, can carry him with no problem.

My gaze shifts back to the sea, where the tide is still going out. Looking back at the man, I watch his chest rise and fall with weak breaths. What if he wakes up while I’m gone? I can’t just abandon him, leaving him injured and alone in a place he doesn’t know.

I’ve spent many nights in this cove avoiding quality time with the rest of the sirens.

This place is my home away from home. It’s comfortable enough for a sea dweller, and I’ve brought a few of my past lovers out here to enjoy ourselves away from the others.

I never heard any complaints from them. Sure, we were a bit distracted and they didn’t have a head wound, some possible broken ribs, and a gash along their entire back, but still, I can make this work.

Slipping my hands under him, I grab underneath his arms and begin to drag him near my makeshift bed in the dry corner.

This cove is surrounded by rocks that reach up into a peak, creating a large room that is isolated from the elements.

The stars twinkle and dance through small holes in the stone ceiling, providing a calming glow to the space, while the tide lures waves to the shore, composing a gentle sea song as they lap against the rocky shore.

This place has always felt like my own private island where I could steal away to think or just get away from it all.

Delicately, I place him on the bed and stare down at his handsome face. A flutter blooms in my chest, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. What is this feeling? I’ve never been so infatuated with a man just from a few brief glances.

I run my hand along his neck and check to make sure his pulse is still strong. His heart beats steadily under the tips of my fingers, and I find myself wanting to curl up next to this stranger and keep him safe. My priorities right now are to keep him breathing and warm him up further.

While my body is used to changing temperatures from water to land, his soaked clothes and fragile human body are not. If I don’t raise his temperature soon, he’ll freeze to death before he has a chance to fully recover.

I drape the only blanket I have available over his unconscious form and look around for the proper supplies to build a fire. Stealing one more glance at his delicate features and soft curls before I begin.