Page 8 of Siren’s Kiss & Feral Beasts

NERISSA

“ C ome in, Love.” Grandmother Lucienne’s whisper reaches me seconds before I enter the room. Her voice is soft, yet the exhaustion is clear. Heavy. It’s only because of our keen sense of hearing that I’m able to discern what she says, just as she’s aware of my presence because of the same.

We sense movement and noise, sensitive to the most minute change.

“You called for me, Gran?” I stop next to her chair and place my forehead against hers.

For a moment, we exchange warmth—the tethers of our auras embracing as they recognize each other for what we are.

Family: we’re tied together by love and blood.

And while I do the same with other members of my family or close friends, with her, it’s different.

More. The matching birthmarks on our tails, the dual moons, have intertwined our fates since before my birth.

You don’t put demands on fate. You follow and trust.

I’ve heard that saying all my life.

From her. From my father.

And I’ve been patient, but when I pull back and meet her eyes again, there’s a warning in there…

“I did, young one.” Grandma coughs, the sound faint, but then she clicks her tongue. Fast and sharp, a trilling sound—my brows furrow. “Ignore that.”

“Not possible.” Tilting my head to the side, I study her. “What’s going on?”

“I’m worried.” Her small fingers intertwine with mine. They squeeze, but there’s no true strength behind it.

“About? Why are you?—”

“Please sit, Nerissa.” A command, one I adhere to out of respect and surprise. She’s not one to do so, but more than that, this moment feels off.

As if I’m missing something.

Taking a seat, I scan the room but find nothing out of order.

The queen’s sitting room is carved from pale limestone, smoothed by centuries of water and gleaming with veins of pearl that catch the filtered light.

Heavy thrones of reef and obsidian anchor the space, their seats softened by anemone-woven pads and sea sponge padding, their fibers swaying faintly in the water.

Shell inlaid tables shine, their surfaces etched with swirling designs, while kelp drapes give the room a cozy, private feel.

“You’re not going to find what you’re looking for here.”

“I’m not?—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she says, her tone admonishing yet soft. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. One I beg you to stop.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Alpha Kai Daire.” Those three words stop me cold, but the way she says his last name sends a ripple of awareness through me. It’s not disgust I detect, but… sadness. “Whatever you think you know?—”

“Everything I do is for the good of our kingdom.”

Her exhale is full of reproach. A little disappointment. “Your heart might be in the right place, my child, but this is not your fight.”

“Grandma, I don’t understand.” A tiny bit of hurt slips through my tone, but I’m also curious. Her eyes are begging me to let this go. To trust her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“That you’re wrong, Nerissa. Please. Leave it alone.

” Her gaze sharpens, voice dropping low.

It stings to be on the receiving end of her disappointment—I don’t understand why —but she reaches a hand out to me, palm up.

I place mine atop hers, and there’s a subtle vibration between our skin, like a thrumming pulse, and it reminds me of the way our scales shake depending on our emotions.

“I’m asking you to stop hunting whatever your grandfather has you chasing before the cost and repercussions are more than you’re willing to pay. ”

“Grandma, I need more than that. What aren’t you telling me?”

“You don’t put demands on fate…”

“You follow and trust,” I finish for her, then exhale slowly. For a minute or two, we don’t speak. The waters are calm, and yet I feel the shift of movement not far from us. She does, too.

Grandma lowers her head, and I meet her halfway. Our heads are close, her lips now pressed against my temple. “I need you to go to Avaria, Nerissa. Today.”

“I’m actually heading there?—”

“I know.” The presence draws nearer, and we exhale in relief when we catch my father’s scent. He doesn’t come in, but lingers as if protecting the area. “There’s something I need you to retrieve for me. It’s important, but more than that, I need you to be discreet. No one can know.”

I’m nodding before she’s done. “Understood.”

“Your neighbor has a note from me.”

“Instructions?”

“In a sense...” A small knock just outside the door causes Grandma to trail off, but then Dad pokes his head in. He’s smiling at us. “Everything okay, Marin?”

“We have eyes.”

“Are you two sneaking me out?” It’d be comical, if not for the disgust on my father’s face.

There’s also a low rumble bordering on a warning sound.

Mermen and merwomen don’t growl like tide-hoppers; ours is more of a hum.

A deep bass vibration that cuts through the water, slicing across the gills and attacking the nervous system.

You’re thrown off if not prepared. More so if it comes from a high-ranking member of the kingdom.

“Orion’s showing his hand.”

“Meaning?” I ask my father, eyes on him, but I don’t miss the look they share.

“Meaning it’s getting late, Princess. Go have some fun.”

The warm, late-afternoon sun feels good on my skin, but it’s the salty breeze that soothes me as I break through the surface. It carries a touch of wet earth from an earlier rain and the ocean’s natural essence, a combination that brings me peace the closer to land I get.

There’s a sense of home I don’t understand, yet I don’t shy away from either. Instead, I close my eyes and take in another deep inhale while blindly pulling back the hood.

There’s still so much going through my head, a myriad of fragmented conversations—the memory of that Alpha Kai searching the shoreline for my scent—but my Grandmother’s words are the loudest. They demand my compliance. My complete obedience.

Stop hunting whatever your grandfather has you chasing before the cost and repercussions are more than you’re willing to pay.

She repeated those words right before I left with my father, taking a private exit that no one outside of the family knows exists. My great-grandfather made the addition, a way for his wife and child to escape if the need ever arose, and today it came in handy.

With a kiss to her cheek, I swam out with Dad, parting ways after exiting the castle. His expression held a tenderness that I haven’t seen in a while, not that the man hasn’t been the most amazing parent, but it was… different.

Wistful.

He hugged me tight before letting go. His words were low. “Follow your heart, Nerissa.”

The streets were still busy then, and with the change in tides coming in soon, people were rushing about. It was easy to mix in, going unnoticed as the cloak kept my scent and aura hidden.

Within minutes, I was far enough to slip behind a grouping of tall pillars and swim toward Avaria.

“Why doesn’t she want her magic back?” I ask aloud, my body shifting into my human skin.

Curves replace my fins, wide hips giving way to long, lithe legs, and toes painted in the same varying shades as my tail.

Scales recede, leaving tan skin behind—soft and glowing, kissed by a fine mist of water that clings to every mermaid ashore.

It’s unnoticeable to most, but for those who know, it’s our one tell.

The first step onto land is always strange. Warm grains press beneath my toes, unfamiliar yet grounding in a way that’s soothing.

I stretch my neck from side to side, loosening the pull of transformation while a few strands of wet hair cling to my face.

Light slams into me, and it’s harsh for a moment—too bright after the blue depths—and for a second, the world blurs.

It’s gone within a few blinks; shapes sharpen, and the jagged coastline comes into focus.

The beach is empty, but not the port. I’m close enough to see, but not be seen, even without the cloak, and I make out three ships docked while another gets closer. The latter is larger. Its sails are dark, but not black.

A sliver of disappointment courses through me.

“Get it together, Nerissa. Enough already,” I mutter under my breath. My cloak covers me, and I pull the hood up, walking up the beach and toward the small coastal town where I own a home. It’s small compared to anything my family owns in our kingdom, but it’s mine.

No family. No rules. No set expectations from anyone.

Most of the people who reside in Avaria are merchants: a mix of witches, wolves, and one dragon clan that manages the port for the royal wolf pack. It’s a mutually beneficial contract, making them a tax-free business while the pirates collect—get information on who docks here and why.

Then, there are the hybrids. Or day walkers, as locals call them.

They’re the offspring of both a female fae and a male vampire—a union that should never exist. Cursed to crave blood but still roam the light. They feed on the essence of the donor, not just their blood. A trade that satisfies both, their pleasure sealed through satiated moans.

It’s not far from Isla de Lobos, where the werewolf monarch pack resides, or so they call themselves now. A century ago, they were nothing but filthy, greedy pirates.

Ruthless. Pillaging. Feral.

The open waters are their playground, a vast oasis with no rules used to steal and conquer—the merpeople never intervened. We didn’t care about the disputes of savages or the clash of shifters and other magic-wielding beings until they touched our sacred stone.

Used my grandmother’s magic.

And yet you still find that brutal beast handsome?

Can’t deny it, either. Have for a while now.

Much longer than anyone, even my best friend, knows.

I’m intrigued by the animal—want more of a man I’ve been taught to hate—even if all it can ever be is a one-time encounter. Because there’s something delicious about the forbidden, and Kai Daire is just that.

Taboo. Deadly. Beautiful.

To want him is treason. To crave his touch is a curse.

And yet you want a taste.

That wolf is an enemy to the merpeople’s crown: a direct descendant of the man who stole my grandmother’s magic and Cordis Lux stone, leaving her with a broken promise and vulnerable to attacks, something I could never forgive.

She’s in danger because of Ephraim Daire.

I can’t forget that.

My nose twitches then; a sharp note rides the cool breeze, pulling me from my thoughts.

Without consent, my steps slow as I pass a small inn, its faded wood and bougainvillea-framed windows catching the sunlight. The vines are lush and the flowers bright while a new scent curls around me…

Guaiac wood, smoky and deep, wrapped within the sweetness of pineapple. There’s also something deeper beneath it. Darker. The faint, almost whisper of leather, feels like a vine shackling me to the present.

My chest tightens.

It’s familiar yet strange, like a memory I didn’t know I had.

My fangs ache. My body thrums with renewed excitement.

Gods help me, I want more of that scent.

“I need to find it.”