Page 47

If I hadn’t let him in, I wouldn’t have to feel that kind of loss again.

A lump formed in my throat, and I looked away as tears stung my eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “It’s not that simple,” I muttered. “Opening up means risking everything… and I don’t know if I can do that. Not again.”

How could I risk feeling that kind of pain again when I knew what it was like to lose someone I cared about? If I kept him at a distance, I wouldn’t have to face that. I wouldn’t have to face the heartbreak of watching him walk away.

And yet… wasn’t I already losing him by not letting him in?

“I understand pain, Iryen,” Adrian’s voice was soft yet steady, his eyes never wavering from mine. “I know how terrifying it is to risk your heart after having it shattered. But I’m only asking for one thing. If you can’t trust me, then trust your goddess.”

His fingers rested on my cheek. “You told me she pairs souls who belong together. And though I don’t know what to believe in yet… I know that whatever is between us, it’s real.”

His words unraveled every emotion deep inside me. He was asking for a kind of trust I had given no one in so long, a trust I wasn’t sure I was capable of. But I couldn’t ignore the goddess’s wishes. Amphitrite herself nurtured the mate bond.

“The triton in my dream… it was my ex-fiancé.” I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap, staring down, unable to meet Adrian’s gaze.

“My parents’ death… it was my fault,” I stammered, voice trembling.

“If I had listened to them and waited for my mate and my coronation, they’d still be alive.

My mistake cost them their lives.” I whispered, and tears rolled down my cheeks, wetting Adrian’s fingers.

“Princess, look at me,” he murmured, his voice so gentle, but I couldn’t respond, too ashamed of my deadly mistake.

“Look at me, Iryen,” he said again, firmer this time.

When I didn’t move, he gently tilted my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze.

And when I did, what I saw in his eyes made my heart race, sending a flutter of warmth through the storm of my emotions.

“It’s not your fault. I’m sure they would feel the same.

” A sob escaped my lips as I tried to swallow down the pain.

Leaning forward, my hands clutched over my middle.

Despair gripped me. Numbness had become a familiar companion.

My thoughts circled the same moment over and over, like a needle stuck on a broken record.

Why didn’t I listen to them? Why did I trust him?

I replayed every conversation a hundred times, trying to find something I must have missed.

Grief made everything too loud—the ticking clock, the closing door, the sound of my own breath.

It felt like someone had hollowed out my chest and left it echoing, empty and raw.

It was like drowning slowly, lungs never quite filling, breath always just out of reach. What an irony for a siren.

The world kept turning, but I had stopped. I was stuck on a page everyone else had already turned.

Not capable of holding it in any longer.

A scream tore from me, loud and unrelenting, as I cried for my parents, for myself.

I even cried for the Draven I once knew, the man I had loved.

I had never allowed myself to mourn him, but I would not let him take any more from me.

So, I cried for him too. And through it all, Adrian held me, tight and unyielding, as I finally let the grief consume me.

His warm hand moved in soothing circles on my back, his voice a gentle mantra. “It’s not your fault,” he repeated over and over until my sobs subsided.

“The worst part was,” I started again after a while, my voice hoarse, “when I told the council what he’d done, they didn’t believe me.

Lord Thalor twisted everything, saying I couldn’t have known because it was too late and that there was no proof Draven was responsible.

‘As a scout for King Orion, he was trustworthy,’” I mimicked bitterly.

A laugh, sharp and broken, escaped me, and I felt Adrian’s fingers tense against my back.

I knew without looking that his molars ground together and his brow furrowed.

“They what?” His voice was low, gravelly, like distant thunder before a storm. “They believed a lord and a scout over their future queen?” Each word dripped with rising fury, his tone growing more dangerous with every syllable.

“Yeah.” My tone was placid. “And because our laws state I have to be twenty-five to ascend the throne, my grandmother had to step in as regent. That only added to Lord Thalor’s manipulations.”

Rage flowed through me like lava, burning my insides, but it wasn’t my anger.

It was his. I’d heard his fury, but to feel it like this was overwhelming.

The council was my burden to bear, yet he felt it as if it were a strike to his own honor.

It left me stunned, frozen in place, my head still bowed over my knees.

I had never felt such raw, powerful emotions radiating from anyone like this.

But then again, I had never had a mate before.

I lifted my head slowly, blinking through the haze of emotions. His eyes were dark, stormy, locked onto mine, and it was like I could feel every pulse of his heartbeat, every crackling wave of his anger. It wasn’t just about me. It was about us .

For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing. Adrian’s eyes swirled with emotion. Anger and protectiveness were crystalline, but there was something deeper, something that made me feel less alone in my grief.

Adrian’s entire body was tense beside me. “So, they dismissed not only your claim but also handed more power to a man who—” He stopped, panting in a frenzy state.

“Yes.” I nodded. “They did.”

His eyes flashed, his pupils narrowing into dark vertical slits.

His beautiful hazel gaze shifted to a deep, ominous brown.

Outside, the once starry sky transformed into a mass of churning darkness, and, just like on the yacht earlier, a relentless storm erupted.

Thunder cracked violently above, winds spiraling with the force of a tornado, powerful enough to rattle the walls and shatter the windows .

Rain poured through the broken glass, flooding the spacious living room.

My gaze drifted from the raging storm to Adrian, who stood perfectly still, staring into the distance.

I had calmed him before, but witnessing the sheer magnitude of his power left me uncertain if I could ever tame this.

He was the King of Storms. The Prince of Storms.

Just like Poseidon, Amphitrite’s mate—the true gods of my people—I wondered if he had blessed Adrian, too, just as I was a descendant of her.

“Adrian,” I called, but he remained motionless, arms hanging loosely at his sides.

“You need to stop this.” The faint sounds of car alarms and panicked screams drifted up, cutting through the roar of the storm.

Even this high up, I could hear the chaos below.

“It’s going to flood the entire city.” Still no response.

I paced on the soaked floor, feeling the rising water lap against my ankles.

“Adrian!” I shouted, but at that moment, the glass doors to the balcony shattered, sending shards flying towards me. Without a second thought, I summoned a wall of ice from the flooded floor, but I wasn’t fast enough. A sharp piece of glass sliced across my shoulder.

Searing—scalding pain roared down my arms as warm, thick, red liquid trailed down my arm.

Gritting my teeth, I focused my energy to close the wound.

My fingers hovered above the wound, outstretched and warmth radiating from them.

As my magic pulsed, the water within the cells stirred, called by my vital force.

Tiny droplets danced like liquid rubies beneath the torn flesh, weaving and threading themselves through the injury.

The blood, still warm with life, responded.

Water molecules bent and shifted to my will, guiding the crimson flow to slow, then reverse, as if time itself obeyed.

The torn vessels knit and sealed together.

Muscles reattached, layer by layer, under a silken current of healing power, smooth, unmarred, save for the faintest red line .

Do not think it didn’t cost me because it did. The pain sliced through my body. It was the price of these abilities. Manipulating blood and healing without ocean water had a toll on a siren, even a powerful one like me.

I strode forward, grasping his shoulders and shaking him, but his body remained unresponsive.

This was going to take all I had. I had already worn out from earlier, and healing myself had taken a lot of energy.

Closing my eyes, I reached into the depths of my power.

Adrian was strong, but so was I, and as mates, we were equals in every way.

Lifting my arms, my magic flared, wrapping around the chaotic winds like fingers closing around a wild, thrashing current.

I seized control of his storm, gripping hard on our bond with all my remaining strength and pulling hard.

I reached deep, past the chaos and rage, until I felt it, faint, but there.

The bond thrummed like a taut cord, threading through the fury like a lifeline until the storm stuttered, until his fury faltered.

Even in his demigod ferocity, he couldn’t shut me out.

The rain subsided, with the thunder now only a distant rumble as the wild winds calmed to a faint breeze.

I shook my head, barely able to believe what I was seeing.

Slowly, his gaze refocused, his pupils returned to normal, and his dark brown eyes softened back to their familiar hazel, flecked with gold.

Lifting my chin, I stared him down, making no effort to hide my anger, which pulsed openly through our bond.

My nostrils flared as I took in a steadying breath.

He looked me over, scratching his jaw, then surveyed the destruction. His ruined penthouse was barely recognizable. “What happened?” he asked, the innocence in his tone as though he hadn’t just thrown the entire city into chaos.

“You happened,” I replied, one eyebrow raised. “Can’t remember? Going full demigod fury over what I shared with you?” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

“What?” He blinked, his gaze shifting to the shattered glass, the soaked floors, and finally landing on me, his expression darkening as he noticed my shoulder.

“Tell me that wasn’t me,” he murmured, his voice cracking.

His jaw clenched, eyes growing distant, and I felt it—the shame, irritation, guilt, and pain as he wrestled with himself.

He was blaming himself, especially when he saw the scar marking my skin.

“It wasn’t you. It was the glass,” I said, voice high and light, trying to soften the blow despite my irritation. “I’m fine. Healed.” I moved my shoulder to show him.

But my reassurance didn’t seem to appease him. His hands went to his neck, and he dropped his head, muttering through gritted teeth, “Fuck.” The words were tight with restraint, every muscle in his jaw taut.

“Besides your shoulder… did I hurt you anywhere else?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “ Fuck… have I hurt anyone?”

I shook my head, reaching out and touching his cheek with both hands, but the tension in his jaw didn’t ease. The shame radiated from him through the bond.

“No, Adrian,” I murmured, gently lifting his face, so he’d look at me. His gaze was intense. “You lost control, and that’s… expected. But you need to be careful,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Powerful emotions will trigger you until you fully control your powers. Any emotion.”

A blush crept up my cheeks as I remembered the kiss on his yacht, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hands on me. His touch had been electric.

His eyes darkened, as though the same memory played through his mind. “I guess that means I’ll have to be careful around you,” he murmured, opening his legs slightly .

Memories flooded my brain, casting a haze over my thoughts, and heat pooled in my core.

The way he held me against the wall, and pounded inside me, while gripping my waist, I immediately got wet.

And the worst was he could feel my arousal through the bond, and at this moment I didn’t have an issue with that.