Page 5

Chapter five

W hy was she leaving?

Raggon’s heart lunged from his chest as he watched her go, the salty breeze whipping his dark hair across his face. The mermaid’s graceful swim as she moved through the frothy waves captivated him—each movement as sweet and delicate as she’d been. The rising sun caught the droplets cascading from her fiery hair, creating a shower of crystals in her wake.

No one had said anything about mermaid’s lips being as soft as moonlight over still waters. He’d wanted to find out more before she’d slipped away from him.

The rhythmic crash of waves against the beach mocked his loss.

He never should’ve let her go, but his mind was a dizzying blur of fire, swords clashing, and Maddox! Those thoughts had scattered like seabirds the moment her arms slid across his neck; her body pressed against his. His fingers unconsciously touched the silver buckle of his weather-worn leather jacket where she’d gripped it.

Now she was gone, ripping his soul from his chest. How had she done that?

She’s a siren, you barnacle-brain!

He groaned. Where had she dropped him? Was he on the land of his ancestors? It would be crawling with Circian forces! Wipe her song from your mind … except he didn’t care about her song. He just wanted to kiss her again, to feel that impossible softness against his skin.

Oh, this was so bad!

A sudden jingling of weapon-laden belts and thudding boots cut through the crash of waves. Before he could react, sand exploded beneath the approaching intruders behind him. His heart jumped to his throat as massive, mottled hands materialized from nowhere. Heavy manacles snapped over his wrists. The metal felt wrong against his skin—colder than it should be, with a subtle vibration that made his flesh crawl. The rough edges bit into his skin, already raw from the salt water that soaked his black shirt and clung to his hair.

He tried to shift, reaching for that familiar sensation of becoming one with the sea spray, but nothing happened. The power that usually flowed through him like a tide was gone, blocked by the strange metal encircling his wrists. Why couldn’t he use his powers?

“The Typhon’s Kiss never releases its prey, pretty prince,” a female’s voice licked over him, smooth as honey laced with poison. The manacles pulsed in reaction to their master’s voice.

Bestial growls roared over him, more animal than human. Oversized hands, covered in patches of scales and matted fur, clawed at the front of his jacket, jerking him to his feet. Sand cascaded from his dripping breeches and leather boots.

The soldiers surrounding him were the things of nightmares, twisted mockeries of the men they once were. Their eyes gleamed with predatory intelligence beneath heavy brows. Tusks, claws, fangs, even scales. These were Circe’s army. They moved on him with tortured limbs.

A sudden movement caught his eye. He spun around, his breath freezing in his chest. Circe was here! Her skin was pale like a statue carved from the moon. The breeze didn’t touch the silky curtain of her straight black hair as she advanced on him through the morning mist.

He stumbled back, chilled to the core by the gleam in her blood-soaked eyes. How were those real? They glittered with the translucence of a jellyfish. Crimson paint dripped from those eyes. The woman must’ve gutted a strawberry bush for such appalling cosmetics.

She was a shock to the system after beholding the wholesome face of his angel mermaid. The memory of her sweetness burned through his mind like the fire that had devoured his ship, and he clung to the image of her in the face of this evil.

And why was he wasting another minute thinking about that little jade? The siren had delivered him straight to the Land Witch—had that not been her assignment from the beginning?

“Ah! The Shadow of the Tide has finally graced us with his presence!” Circe moved on him in all her terrible beauty, her shadowsilk dress whispering secrets across the sand. The woman didn’t age—she was still the same majestic terror who had run a bloodbath through his country, starting with the execution of Raggon’s parents.

Her hand snapped to the leather cord carrying the gold coin of his countrymen around his neck. “It has been too long since we’ve welcomed you to your homeland, my dashing prince.” Her fingers caressed the necklace, and then his throat like she was playing the strings of an instrument, and leaning over him, she placed a whisper against his ear: “It is true your people come from the sea. Is that why the waves have delivered you to us?”

It had everything to do with that whimsical mermaid; more fool was he! He’d fallen for their lure—hook, line, and sinker; and still, he tried to act like it was nothing by throwing on a lopsided grin. “I couldn’t wait to pay you all a visit.”

Her answering smile sickened him. The morning light caught her fangs—they glittered like shark’s teeth. “Indeed?” she asked. “And I’ve prepared a room for you. Nothing is too good for the future king of Sylphoria.”

“King?” he echoed. What was she saying? She’d taken that right from him when she’d stolen his father’s kingdom.

“Why, of course… once you marry their queen.” The deadly promise from her velvety soft voice slammed into his gut with the force of Maddox’s sword.

His hand went to his stomach where he’d been sliced, hadn’t he? Other than a rip in his shirt, he felt nothing. Was he going mad? But no, a memory tore through the cobwebs of his mind as he remembered what had healed him—that siren’s incredible voice! The mermaid had thrown him into a dreamy haze, so that he didn’t know reality from fantasy, though Circe’s strange gaze on him felt very real.

Raggon swallowed down his retorts. Not for a moment did he believe this cruel sorceress meant to make him her consort. She’d throw him away as soon as she used his name to gain more political footing in his country, but why did she need him for more leverage?

His gaze roved over her beastly guards with their unwashed braids dangling over roughened patches of scales, hide, and bristling fur. What rebellion did she need to quash? The people who’d stayed behind on the island now reeked of wet animal and rotting seaweed.

“Do you like my army?” She reached for him. He stiffened, unable to move as her eerie eyes danced with cruel amusement. She ran one long-nailed finger along his chest. “They are… strong.”

She’d use her spells to transform him into one of these bestial soldiers too. He watched one of the creatures flex its clawed hands at a buzzing fly. “Not necessarily blessed with brains,” he muttered.

“That’s how I like my men,” she purred. Her knobby fingers switched directions and traced along his jaw, her nail prickling ice across his skin. “You know what happens if you’re in the Typhon’s Kiss too long? You’ll become one of them…” His heart raced as the truth hit home—no wonder he felt so strange. The metal was slowly drinking in his essence. “But I say we get you out of those manacles,” she said. “A woman like me has refined tastes, and I prefer you the way you are.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, sharp as the tang of blood on her breath, and one she’d better beware. He wouldn’t be her toy. “Sorry, you’d be better off making me brainless.”

Her cackling laugh made him wince in pain. She whipped away from him. He noticed the cloak draped over her shoulders rose unnaturally against her back, making her appear almost hunchbacked. She motioned to her beastly army. “Bring him.”

Growling low, Circe’s beasts yanked Raggon forward, taking him from the waves and the seductive call of that treacherous mermaid.