Page 13 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

There was very little in the world that bewildered Dax anymore. Still, a siren with a vixen’s mouth and was as beautiful as the rising dawn unnerved him more than he’d ever care to admit.

Her turquoise eyes reminded him of the sea she’d come from. Mysterious, endless, and full of storms. Even her tattoos intrigued him; the subtle black lines and soft swirls caressing her body formed images of nature, notes of songs, and reflections of her life under the waves.

The scar on her face was a reminder that life, although it felt endless, was fragile. It did nothing to dissuade him from believing she was a deadly, beautiful foe. Turning his back to her, even for that second, could’ve cost him everything if she’d escaped.

She was a force to be reckoned with, a hurricane on the brink of destruction, yet he found himself drawn to her in every way—like a moth flirting with the edge of a flame.

This wasn’t what he’d expected, and he knew he needed to get her back to Aurelia as fast as possible .

Dax glanced over at her sleeping form covered with a blanket as he wiped his chest and neck clean with a wet rag. She was going to be so pissed when she woke up. A bucket was beside the bed, awaiting the fate that would befall her when the drug wore off.

He yawned, shaking his head. Sleep was a luxury he couldn’t afford with her around, and he needed the silence as he walked to maintain his energy, so he’d knocked her out.

The longest he’d ever gone without sleep was five days, and it would take at least seven to get to Aurelia.

They were only on day two, and he already felt his body reacting in subtle ways.

Dropping the rag, he dumped the bowl of water out the window of the hunter’s cabin they occupied.

It was a stop for anyone who needed rest, but it was apparent no one had stopped there in years.

Dust coated every surface; windows and doors hung off broken hinges that creaked in the wind.

Thankfully, the cots left on the wooden floors were decent enough.

At least the siren wouldn’t have mold infecting her pores.

Mariana.

Even her name did something to him he couldn’t explain. He didn’t want to call her anything, but he knew she would cut him up like a knife if he didn’t call her by her name. Mari. It was simple enough.

Sighing, he scrubbed his face with his hands and rubbed his aching neck before donning his shirt and armor again.

“What in the silver stars have you done to me?” The venomous question was followed by heavy retching.

Dax glanced over at her, watching her struggle not to get any bile in her long hair. Taking two strides, he lifted the bucket closer to her face. When she was done, she slumped back onto the bed, breathing hard.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!”

Dax couldn’t help the smirk that lifted his lips, hiding it as he dumped the bucket out the window. “I won’t unless I have to.”

A blaze of fury glowed in her eyes.

He retrieved the waterskin he’d just refilled and a piece of bread, holding them out as offerings to her.

When she didn’t take them, he dropped them in her lap.

Turning back to his bag, he pulled out a small pair of brown boots he’d procured for her along their journey from a traveling mortal merchant.

The whole exchange made Dax want to laugh.

The old man had been so terrified, he pissed himself, yet he couldn’t turn down the coin Dax offered.

Glancing over at her, he was surprised to find her taking small, angry bites of the bread. Her wrists were still tied together, but her ankles were free.

He set the boots by the bed, and she gazed at them with pure repulsion.

“Um … what are those?”

“Boots. I suspect they’ll fit you well enough to walk in.”

Her eyes shot up to his. “Walk?”

“Yes,” he said, putting on his hooded cloak. “I am not a horse. I cannot carry you the whole way.”

“I’m not putting those things on.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not,” she argued. Dax felt bad for the bread she crushed in her hand. “I don’t wear shoes. I’m a siren. Don’t you know anything about us? ”

“That excuse won’t get you far, Little Tempest, especially as it gets colder the farther north we go. Speaking of …” He tossed a leather coat at her, and she snatched it out of the air with a scowl.

“Don’t call me that,” she growled, her sharp glare meeting his.

Dax tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he stepped closer, towering over her. “Don’t like it, Little Tempest?” He dropped his voice to a low murmur and leaned close to her face. “Then stop kicking up a storm over every damn thing and put on the boots.”

Her head slammed into his face with such force that he stumbled backward. Dax clutched his nose, cursing loudly as Mari shot out of the bed.

Dropping a hand from his throbbing nose, he reached out to grab her, but she slipped through his fingers like water.

Reaching the door, she struggled to open it, not realizing it was locked. Dax smirked as he stepped behind her and forcefully turned her around by her shoulders.

One thing he could count on about Mari was that she was a fighter. And she liked to fight dirty.

Claws reached for his throat, scratching his skin. He grabbed her tied wrists before her nails had the chance to rip out his larynx. She kicked and screamed as he slammed her wrists above her head against the wooden door. It groaned under the weight of their thrashing.

“Calm down!” he shouted and trapped her body with his. She tried biting him, her sharp canines on display, but she was too short to reach anything important .

“Just stop! You’re not going anywhere!”

She hissed at him, tried biting him again, then gave up and let her head fall back against the door, their heaving chests brushing slightly together. Dax couldn’t stop himself from staring down at her. She was wild, stunning chaos. And somehow, he had to tame it.

He took a small step back, creating space between their bodies so he could think clearly, but her eyes threatened to drown all sensible thoughts.

Releasing a sigh, he said softly, “Shit, you’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be your enemy. I just want to get you safely to Aurelia.”

“To do what with me? Hand me over to the king so he can chop off my tail and stick my head on the pike at the palace gates? Make an example out of my kind?” He detected fear beneath her viscous tone.

He opened his mouth to reassure her that wouldn’t happen, but he knew it would mean nothing to her. She couldn’t trust him and had no idea what awaited her. Escape seemed like her only option. “Death isn’t what awaits you in Aurelia.”

Mari stilled, her eyes searching his, probing for lies. He held her gaze, steady and unyielding. He needed her to believe him, if only just enough to cooperate.

He drew a short knife from his thigh, and her eyes narrowed on the sheathed dagger there. The same one he had taken from her when he first found her.

“You want it back?” he asked softly, drawing her hateful gaze up to him. “Then earn it.” The knife sliced through her wrist bonds. He knew it was a risk, but she deserved the chance to prove—

Within half a second of her being free, she snatched her dagger back and had it pointed at his throat. Moving quickly, he dropped his knife, slammed her right wrist against the door, and gripped the other, holding back the dagger.

“Let’s get one thing straight, fae ,” she hissed through her teeth. “I don’t have to earn anything. This is mine! ”

Dax smirked down at her, half tempted to laugh. Settling his knee between her thighs, he pushed her into the door and got close to her face.

“Your hatred for me won’t help you save your sister.” Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping slightly. “Now, give me the dagger.”

“You know where Astra is?” she breathed.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he released her wrists and took the dagger from her weak grip to sheath it back at his thigh. He stepped back, finally breathing easier, and snatched the boots.

“Put on the damn boots. Now.” He pushed them toward her and was surprised when she took them. She shoved them onto her feet with such aggression that she nearly toppled over.

“Fit?” he asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” she snapped.

He glanced down at them. They were a bit too big, but they’d have to do.

“Tell me about Astra. Have you seen her?”

He held up the coat and motioned for her to put it on.

With a huff, she shrugged the coat on, grimacing at the faint odor of sheep .

“I’m not telling you anything else until we get to the Crossing.” He grabbed her wrists again and began gently wrapping them with the white silk.

“What is this stuff?” she asked.

“It’s spider silk. You’ve never seen it before?”

“No.”

He secured it with a tight knot. “It’s everywhere in the fae realm.”

“Well, clearly, I’ve never been to the fae realm.”

They glanced at each other, and Dax realized she must’ve been born after the sirens were banished.

He hardly knew anything about sirens; he had been employed by the royal family shortly after the terrible event that forced their exodus from the fae realm.

Dropping her wrists, he secured his bag around his shoulders.

“Well, siren , now’s your chance.”

Dax unlocked the door and pushed her through.