Page 27

The bond

Adrian

I was restless, pacing the room like a caged predator, last night’s moments playing over and over in my head like a curse I couldn’t shake.

She had come here for solace. But why? What the hell had driven her here in the dead of night, shaken and vulnerable? It had to be connected to that dream. That sorrow in her eyes, raw and unguarded, wasn’t something my mind conjured up for fun. That was real. And I wanted, no, needed, to know why.

Her words had given me more questions than answers, but none of them mattered until I got the truth. Why had I seen her dream? Who was that triton? And what the hell did she mean by not today?

A sharp, ugly heat coiled in my chest at the memory of him, at the way she looked at him, like a wound that still bled, like a past that refused to stay buried.

A burning jealousy scorched through my veins, twisting my thoughts into something sharp-edged and violent.

It coiled around my ribs, squeezed my lungs, made my fingers itch with the need to do something, to destroy something.

That triton . Whoever the hell he was, he had been important to her once. Maybe still is.

That thought alone was enough to make my vision blur with rage. Did she miss him? Did she love him? Had he touched her the way I wanted to? Had she let him?

My jaw clenched so hard it ached.

It was irrational.

I knew that, but the resentment burned too hot, too deep, and I had never been the type to smother my instincts.

I wanted her, wanted her to look at me the way she had looked at him in that dream.

But more than that, I wanted to undo him.

Erase his name, his memory, his existence from her mind, until there was nothing left of him but a ghost she could barely recall.

Were this clothes his?

I hated I cared. Hated that this emotion, this possessive, all-consuming need, had dug its claws into me so fast, so deep, I could barely remember what it felt like to not want her. The bastard was already dead in my head. She just didn’t know it yet.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. I needed to get control of this, or at least learn how to use it. Because whether she liked it, whether she fought it, she was going to be mine.

And in these training sessions, she wouldn’t be able to run.

She wouldn’t be able to hide.

She’d have to face me .

Just as my thoughts rambled, I felt a prickling on my neck.

The woman that has been flooding my mind these past few days appeared without a sound, materializing like a specter from the dark.

I hadn’t heard her approach, hadn’t caught even a flicker of movement.

One second, I was alone. The next, she was there , watching me with those piercing green eyes.

I might have not seen or heard her, but I sure as hell sensed her.

I exhaled slowly, masking the way my pulse raced for her. Damn you and that ghostly presence.

“Why do you always appear like that?” My voice was low, laced with something close to curiosity, though I wasn’t sure if it was fascination or irritation. “Like you walk through shadows. And always in human form.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she hesitated, like she was weighing how much to say. “Because my true form can be… discomforting.” Her voice was softer than usual, touched by something almost hesitant. Almost vulnerable.

I went still. Shit.

A shiver ghosted down my spine, digging up the memory I had buried deep. The first time I saw her tail. A razor-sharp beauty. The inhuman terror. The raw power that made my instincts scream predator .

And the way I reacted .

Revulsion. Fear. I hadn’t hidden well.

A sharp pang of guilt flooded me, unexpected and unwelcome. I shoved it down, locking it behind steel. What did I have to feel guilty for? She was the one keeping me prisoner. The one who had ripped me from my life and shackled me in this world. She should be the one feeling guilty.

And yet I felt guilty.

I should apologize. The words curled at the back of my throat, bitter and foreign. But if I did, she’d know. She’d see the effect she had on me, the way she had crawled under my skin and refused to leave. And I wasn’t about to give her that kind of power, not yet at least.

Instead, I forced a smirk, let my tone dip into something edged with mockery.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I have a tail too, remember?” The words tasted sour, the admission grating .

Her expression didn’t shift. Not even a flicker.

I studied her, my gaze dragging over every minute detail, the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her hands remained perfectly still at her sides, as if any movement might betray something.

How much did she hold back? How much of her power was she keeping from me?

Irritation curled in my chest. If I had to endure this, if I had to be here, trapped under her watch, I might as well make use of it. Learn her. Understand her.

“It must be difficult for you, appearing like that out of nowhere all the time.”

The words left my mouth before I could think better of it, an idle observation meant to fill the space between us. But as my gaze swept over her, that space tightened, became suffocating.

Draped in a top of aquamarine fabric, so close to scale that it looked like she had simply grown it from her own skin.

Delicate golden threads wove through the material, catching the light in a way that made it look almost alive.

Seashells and pearls adorned the straps, fine chains, intricate and deliberate, glistening with every movement.

That golden mesh around her waist, cinched tight, only made me wonder how it would feel under my hands. How easily it would come undone.

The matching skirt, light and teasing against her thighs, did nothing to ease the raw pull in my chest.

Different from yesterday. And yet, the effect on me was exactly the same, something unfamiliar, something deadly .

I shouldn’t have been looking at her like this. Shouldn’t have wanted her like this.

All I could think about is undoing that careful composure. Shattering that regal, untouchable air. Tearing her from her world of control and seeing what she looked like when she burned .

A dark, wicked part of me ached for it.

It wasn’t just desire, no, this was something else, something deeper, something dangerous . Lust, yes, but woven with possessive feeling, something I couldn’t acknowledge.

Her lips twitched, the barest hint of amusement sparking in her gaze. Was she aware of what she was doing? Did she know the effect she had on me?

Or worse… Was she enjoying it?

“It’s rather easy, really,” she said, voice calm, unbothered. As if this was just another conversation. As if she didn’t feel the thick, charged air between us. “I just cloak myself with invisibility and shift.”

I narrowed my eyes. There was something too casual about her tone, too smooth.

Cloaking. Shifting. She spoke about it as if it were effortless, as if the very fabric of reality bent to her will without resistance. I wasn’t sure if it unnerved me or intrigued me more.

“Easy for you, do you mean?” I muttered. There was no way it was as simple as she made it seem.

“Actually, all sirens, tritons, and even hybrids have invisibility powers,” she explained, voice measured, like she was humoring a child. “Usually, when you use invisibility, no one can see or hear you.”

“Then why did I see your shadow yesterday?” I asked, my voice laced with a curiosity that bordered on insanity, twisting my thoughts in endless loops. If she thought she could move unseen, slip in and out like a phantom, she was wrong. I had sensed her. I would always sense her.

“It must be because of your ancestors.” Her tone shifted, losing its usual cool detachment. She studied me, her gaze heavier than before. “I take it you don’t know your lineage?”

A slow smirk pulled at the corner of my lips. Ah. So we are getting to something real now.

“You’re powerful, Adrian,” she continued. “And to the council, that makes you dangerous. Your presence here incites fear among them.”

Fear. Good. It should.

“But not to you?” I pressed, letting just enough frustration seep into my voice to keep her on edge. “You don’t fear me?”

Why not you? Why aren’t I dangerous to you?

Tell me what you’re hiding. Just tell me.

She sighed, the sound harsh. Finally, finally a crack in that carefully constructed mask of hers. “Fine,” she muttered, her reluctance slipping through. “I’ll tell you everything I can, although I can’t reveal certain truths about my kingdom.”

I dragged a hand down my face, feigning exasperation even as satisfaction curled in my chest. She was bending, shifting under my pressure. “We had an agreement,” I reminded her sharply, pushing just enough to see how far she’d bend before she snapped.

Her eyes darkened. “It’s take it or leave it,” she spat, irritation slipping through at last. “My orders were to take your memories and release you. But I made this agreement to give you the benefit of the doubt. So yes, I’m telling you truths, but not all of them.”

My grin widened, slow and deliberate. There it is.

I had gotten under her skin. The cracks were showing, and I wanted to pry them open, to see what lay beneath that regal restraint.

But then her words settled in my mind, and my amusement twisted into something colder.

Take my memories?

“How would you take them?” I asked, curiosity flickering to life before concern could sink its claws in. Would it hurt? Would I even realize it was happening?

Then it hit.

A dense fog curled around my thoughts, thick and constricting. My mind slowed, dragged into a haze so absolute it felt like drowning in ink. My body locked up, every muscle turning to stone. I tried to move, nothing. The sensation wasn’t pain, but it was worse. It was powerlessness.

Her voice cut through the suffocating blur. Calm, detached, so damn casual. “Just like you have your powers, I have mine.”