Page 12 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

She wanted to punch his teeth straight into his throat.

He released a low growl. “Listen to me.” His voice was commanding, eyes locking onto hers. She became acutely aware of the warmth of his body, his weight pressing down on her. Confusion swept through her as a flutter of something else—something she didn’t want to acknowledge—stirred in her stomach.

What is wrong with me?

The fae let out a frustrated breath. “I understand you want to go home, but I can’t let you do that. You’re coming with me. Are you going to make me knock you out again, or will you listen to what I say?”

Mariana glared at him. Her jaw clenched so hard it sent a sharp ache to her temples. She wanted to spit in his face, to scream at him, but something held her back.

As dawn started to creep through the trees, she summoned her magic to shield her from the sun. The light chased the shadows away from the male’s face, and Mariana stilled .

Beneath thick black brows were striking emerald eyes. She could even see flecks of copper deep within the iris. They reminded her of a hidden enchanted forest filled with secrets, and perhaps the monster that plagued his nightmares and caused the dark circles beneath.

Wait … Mariana blinked as realization flooded her mind.

His skin … it was the color of stone. She thought the darkness was playing tricks on her, but she could now see the truth.

The fae race had been created in the image of mortals with similar skin tones.

But this man’s skin was different. Astra used to bring orbs up from the Athenaeum to show her the images of fae and the fae realm stored within.

This male’s skin looked nothing like what she had seen in those images.

Some creatures, like sirens, could mate with fae and produce colorful fae offspring.

Still, society often considered them outcasts as they were not true fae .

With those prejudices in mind, she wondered how the king employed someone like him.

“Who are you?” she asked in bewilderment.

His mouth tightened, and his eyes narrowed.

“No one,” he grunted, lifting her to her feet.

“You’re—” Her words were cut off as he snatched up his dagger and sheathed it, his movements swift and practiced.

“I’m done talking. Now, let’s go.” He bound her wrists again, leaving her ankles free this time. He ran a hand over his short black hair, brushing off dried leaves. The remnants of their fight.

He peered down at where he held her wrists. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

“No.” She was, a little, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “I haven’t been on land this long before. Your kind has no idea how painful gravity is to someone who lives in the sea,” she spat back at him.

The fae male glared down at her, but she refused to feel small as she shot daggers right back, hoping they pierced his soul.

“The solution to that is simple,” he stated as he lifted a small glass bottle from a pouch secured on his waist.

Mariana leaned in close to his face. “I refuse to be drugged again. Just try. You’ll regret it.”

He shook his head, slipping the bottle back into his pouch. Without another word, he swept her up into his arms. She protested at first, but as the tension left her muscles, she realized how much she needed the relief.

“Trust me not to murder you now?” His voice was tinged with sarcasm, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. She was too tired, her muscles too sore to argue.

The fae frowned, his steps light and cautious as he carried her through the forest, as if fearing to wake a sleeping giant. His eyes remained alert, scanning the trees and foliage for anything that might pose a threat.

“I don’t trust you at all,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on the path ahead.

“Then, why aren’t you fighting me?”

“Because I will defeat you,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “And when I do”—she turned her steely gaze toward him—“you’ll never see daylight again.”

A brief silence hung between them before he spoke again, his tone maddeningly calm. “Even if you manage to beat me, you won’t escape me, siren.”

Mariana scoffed. “What makes you so sure? ”

He smirked, staring straight ahead. “I know your scent.”

She stilled, a shiver running down her spine. Their eyes locked, and she could see the certainty in his gaze, the confidence that unnerved her more than anything else.

“There’s no hiding from me. Even in the sea.”

Mariana swallowed hard, her nerves tightening as she stared at the hand gripping her knees, holding her securely against him.

Their eyes caught, and her breath stilled.

“Fresh flowers and sea salt,” he murmured.

She couldn’t stop the way her heart stuttered in her chest. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing on the path ahead.

“Can all fae track scents?” she asked, worried that she had underestimated the fae.

“No.”

“What makes you so different?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

Silence was her answer, leaving no room for further questions.

Mariana didn’t know what to make of his cryptic response. If he could track her scent, there was no point in attempting to escape—at least not yet.

He was a skilled fighter, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to realize that if he truly was employed by King Stavros, he might lead her directly to Astra. But what about Aurora? She had to be worried sick by now.

Her stomach twisted with guilt as the truth settled over her like a heavy fog. She wasn’t going anywhere, not anytime soon .

The Siren Witch had once taught her about the power of tactical diplomacy, the strength in making allies, even among enemies. It was a lesson she couldn’t afford to forget.

Clearing her throat, she tried to push down the heat rising in her cheeks. “My name is Mariana,” she offered quietly. “Everyone calls me Mari.”

She kept her gaze on the path ahead, refusing to let him see how nervous she was, hoping the small offering would earn her some information in return. But he remained silent, expression unreadable.

Minutes passed before she heard a sigh escape him; it was so soft she almost missed it.

“Dax,” he finally said, his voice low and hesitant, as if revealing his name was an act of trust.

They shared a brief glance, and Mariana found herself at a loss for words for the first time since she had woken up.

Time slipped by in a blur, exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. She fought to stay awake, scrubbing her hands over her face, but the warmth of his chest against her cheek was a comfort she couldn’t resist.

“I recommend you sleep while you can,” he said quietly.

“No,” she murmured, stubbornness lacing her voice. “It’s just as bad as being knocked out.”

“I’m not going to murder you or leave you to die,” he reassured her, his voice oddly gentle. “Sleep so you have the energy to walk when we stop next.”

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice fading as sleep began to claim her .

He hesitated before answering, his jaw working as he considered what to say. Finally, he sighed. “We’re going to the Crossing. Once we’re out of the mortal realm, I’ll tell you more. Until then, sleep.”

Mariana squeezed her clasped hands, her mind racing with questions, but the exhaustion was too strong.

He’d confirmed they were headed toward the fae realm, but she still needed to know if Astra was alive.

That had to wait. The fae didn’t seem to be in the mood for more conversation, so she focused on the path as he carried her, her thoughts drifting as her head settled against his chest.

Within moments, her vision faded to black, and she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.