Page 17 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

Dax groaned; his whole body felt like it had been through a meat grinder and then sewn back together.

Movement to his right had him instinctively snatching the dagger strapped to his thigh and bringing it up to the siren’s throat.

“You’re alive,” Mari breathed. “What a surprise.”

Glancing down, Dax realized she, too, held a short blade to his throat. Pale light glinted off the sharpened bone in her hand.

It only took him a second to realize she had been about to change the bandage on his side.

Pulling the dagger back, he sheathed it and waited for her to do the same.

She hesitated before setting her blade down.

He eyed it wearily. It was the same one he’d taken from her during their first encounter.

He knew he should take it back, but was too tired for another fight.

Dax scrubbed his face with his hands. “What happened? Where are we?”

They appeared to be in some sort of ruin.

Crumbling stone walls covered in moss surrounded them.

Above was half a wooden ceiling with a broken skylight that provided little shelter.

Dax eyed the rotted beams with caution. The last thing he wanted was to have a shoddy ceiling collapse and bury them alive.

“This place looks like a tomb waiting to happen.”

“Yeah, well, it was the only building in this destroyed village with a roof. I dragged you all the way out here after the fight. You’re welcome.

” She helped him sit up, and he swung his legs over the side of the slab of stone she must’ve laid him out on.

Cracking his back, he rolled his neck and heard a series of pops.

“Let me see,” she demanded. Dax tensed as she crouched between his legs to inspect the wound. His eyes studied her carefully while she peeled away the bandage to reveal a red slice. The skin that had touched the tainted blade was dark. “It’s looking better.”

“How … That was widow toxin. Without an antidote, I should be dead right now,” he muttered, his voice thick and drowsy. He’d come close to death so many times over the course of his long life that it felt like any other day by this point. How he’d managed to survive this one, he had no idea.

Widow toxin was incredibly rare and difficult to come by. He hadn’t expected anyone to have it, much less attack him with it, so he never kept the antidote on hand. A stupid mistake.

“I had to flush the wound,” she replied, then let out an irritated sigh when he stared at her in confusion. “I drowned your veins until the toxin spilled free. You were asleep for … most of it.”

“Most of it?” A hiss slipped between his gritted teeth as the sting intensified. She was wiping the wound clean with the disinfectant he kept in his bag .

“You don’t remember anything?” she asked, avoiding his gaze.

“No,” he groaned.

Her eyes met his briefly before she focused back on cleaning the wound. “That’s probably for the best.”

“What makes you say that?” he ground out.

What Mari did next surprised him. She gently blew on the inflamed area until the sting faded, then brought her stormy gaze up to his.

“You were screaming,” she murmured.

He couldn’t describe what he felt then, staring into the sea trapped within her eyes. The softness in her gaze countered the tension in her shoulders and mouth.

“Why did you save me?” He had to know. It made no sense for her to stick around. He was grateful to be alive but couldn’t forget that she was a dangerous enemy—one that clearly had a hidden agenda.

Mari shrugged. “I just killed a fae, and I wasn’t about to watch another die.”

Dax studied her as she patched him back up. “Why would that matter to you?”

“Because”—she slapped the tape on, making him grunt—“I’d never killed anyone before, and I didn’t like the feeling. Don’t make me think otherwise.”

They glared at each other for a solid minute before Mari finally looked away.

“How long was I out for?”

Mari shrugged as she began cleaning up the bloody patches. “Since last night. Your body needed time to recover. ”

No shit, he almost said. Instead, his eye caught on the dagger she’d set on the ground beside her. “What kind of blade is that?”

Picking it up, she turned it over in her hands. “Basilisk bone. My sister, Aurora, makes armor and weapons out of it.”

Dax’s eyebrows shot up. “Impressive. How in the blazes did she find a basilisk?” And survive?

“She found a carcass in an underwater cave, brought back what she could, and discovered that the bone bent under extreme heat and pressure. As it cooled, it hardened.” Mari flipped the blade in her hand. “Harder than steel.” Her gaze flitted to his. “Ever seen one before?”

Dax swallowed. “Yeah, a long time ago.” He tried not to recall the memory long stowed away in his mind, but he couldn’t stop his body from growing tense as the bloody battle filled his thoughts.

He dragged his eyes away from the bone blade to study the creeping vines that climbed up the stone wall in front of him.

Mari sheathed the dagger at her hip and stood up. “Best to let that scab so you’ll heal faster.”

He glanced down at the wound. He could feel his skin knitting itself back together. It was going much slower than usual, but at least he was healing.

“How did you find this place?”

“I followed the horses. They seemed to know where they were going when that fae let them loose. I assume this was where the scumbags were staying, awaiting the moment we came through the Crossing.” Mari turned her head toward him.

Dax kept his gaze steady, unflinching under her scrutinizing stare.

“I think you know who they were. And why they were waiting for us. ”

“I had no idea they’d be there.”

She tilted her head. “You wouldn’t have let that last one go if you didn’t know who he was.”

He stayed silent, watching her calculating and cynical gaze inspect him. He didn’t like where this was going; he needed to turn it around.

“Thank you,” he said softly and cleared his throat. “I’m grateful for what you did.”

“Yes, well …” She brushed her hands together before settling them on her hips. “Don’t thank me yet. You’re still on my bad side. Plus, you owe me.”

Dax’s brows pulled together, instantly frowning at the idea. “What do you want?”

“A swim,” she stated firmly.

He scoffed, “I don’t think so.”

She crossed her arms and took a defiant stance. “I could’ve let you die, your face smothered in the dirt. By the time I even dragged your ass here, you weren’t breathing. I’m the only reason you’re alive. So, I’m going to have a swim.”

Why did she save me? She could’ve escaped, so why is she still here?

Dax turned the cynical, inspecting look on her. She wasn’t leaving until she found what she wanted to know. That much was clear.

“Fine, have at it. I’m sure there’s a river nearby,” he said. It was a ballsy risk, one he really couldn’t afford if she decided to leave, but something about her sudden need to swim made him want to test her.

“Great, let’s go. ”

“What?” he asked, confused. “Why do I need to go?”

“Why do you think? You stink.”

Dax shook his head. “Not this again.”

“And you’re covered in blood.”

“I’ll wipe it off.”

“Or you could wash your body,” she said slowly, like he was a total idiot. He glared at her. “What? A tough fae like you can’t handle a little cold water?”

He ground his teeth together, hating the idea of getting caught in her trap. She would completely control his fate if he stepped foot into water. Yet her challenge made his decision spill from his lips without a second thought.

“Fine.” Standing, he swiped his bloody shirt off the ground and slipped it on before grabbing his cloak. “Now seems like a great time to risk dying of hypothermia. Why not?”

“Sirens don’t get hypothermia from water; we’re only sensitive to cold air. So don’t worry,” she said, her voice soft as she met his gaze. “I’ll keep you from dying.” Then, she turned on her bare feet and muttered, “Just don’t make me regret it.”

“Wait,” he said, stopping her. “Give me your dagger.” He held out his hand, and she scoffed.

“Why? It’s mine.”

“Want me to trust you?” Dax saw a look of uncertainty pass over her face. “Then give it to me.”

“Fine,” she gritted and slammed the dagger into his palm. “But you already know I don’t need it to kill you.”