Page 21 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

Darkness had settled over the forest like a suffocating shroud, broken only by the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the canopy.

Dax crouched beside Mari’s limp form, her hair a damp curtain splayed across the cool earth.

Her breathing was shallow, each rise and fall of her chest fainter than the last. She looked so small, so fragile—words he’d never thought to associate with her until now.

“Mari,” he murmured, his voice taut with worry as he gently shook her shoulder. “Wake up.”

Nothing.

His jaw tightened as he pressed two fingers to her neck, searching for the stuttering pulse beneath her feverish skin.

It was there, only in rapid little bursts, as though it was struggling to keep up.

Her body burned with unnatural heat, trembling as if caught in the grip of a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

Dax scrubbed a hand over his face, his breath coming in sharp bursts. Did I do this?

The thought clawed at him, dragging his mind back to the serum .

Back at the traveler’s cabin before they went through the Crossing, while Mari was still knocked out, Dax had given her shackle serum. A precaution, he told himself, in case she tried to run again.

The crone he’d bought from said it would last three days and assured him it would make any captive “turn back.” That’s all she’d said in her raspy, withered voice. And now, with Mari crumpled and unresponsive at his feet, he wondered if the damned potion had done more than he’d bargained for.

He grabbed her discarded dress and coat before gently putting them back on her so she wasn’t exposed to the cold air sweeping through the trees.

Then, he lifted her to rest against the trunk of an old oak.

“Mari, wake up,” he urged again as he cupped her cheeks and shook her slightly.

Her skin was damp, almost slick, shedding faint layers of pale blue like flakes of ash.

Colorless scales fell from her legs and chest, littering the ground like remnants of something broken beyond repair.

Dax’s stomach churned. What in the Gods is happening to you? he asked silently.

Pressing his hands against her face, he stilled. There it was. An energy pulsing beneath her skin, strange and unnatural. He closed his eyes, letting himself feel it. The magic throbbed in waves, foreign and wrong. This wasn’t her power. It belonged to someone else.

Realization struck like a hammer. His serum hadn’t done this. One of her people had. Something had happened to her on the other side of that portal, something that was ripping the siren from her body, piece by piece .

A curse hissed through his teeth, and Dax dropped his hands, standing so abruptly that the world around him seemed to sway. He paced in frantic strides, the weight of his failure pressing down on him.

He couldn’t deliver her like this. His mission was to keep her alive, protect her, and bring her to Aurelia intact. Not … not like this .

And yet, the truth gnawed at the edges of his mind. She never would’ve gone through that portal if I’d just kept my mouth shut.

He’d pushed her too far. She could have left him at the river, could have drowned him if she wanted.

She didn’t owe him her loyalty, but she’d stayed.

She’d looked him in the eye and asked for his help to save her sister.

And what had he done? Pushed her away with half-truths and pointed barbs, making sure she didn’t see the cracks she’d carved into his walls.

He should have lied. He should have told her whatever she wanted to hear. But at that moment, he couldn’t. Not with her.

Dax crouched before her again, his hands trembling as he reached for her neck, but his reach faltered.

Her gills were sealed. The sight made his breath hitch.

Whatever was happening to her was stripping away the very thing that made her a siren.

She was losing herself, and he could do nothing to stop it.

Her pulse was weaker now, fading like a dying ember. “No,” he whispered, pressing his fingers to her neck. Panic clawed at his chest, his breathing coming fast and uneven.

Desperation surged through him as he released another curse and tilted her head, prying her eyelids open.

Her gaze was unfocused, distant, as if slipping deeper into the void with every passing second.

She was still breathing—but barely. Adrenaline gripped his heart, and fear of her dying made his lungs seize.

She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her.

Grabbing her armor from where it had been discarded on the ground, he held it up to her chest and began strapping it on. She looked impossibly small as he worked the buckles.

He had to get her out of here, get her somewhere warm—

A whimper escaped her lips, and Dax’s hands stilled on the last strap. The silence that followed was so thick, he could only hear his heart beating erratically.

“Mari?” Lifting a hand, he cupped her cheek, and her eyes opened slightly. Glazed, unseeing.

She moaned, “I can’t.” Her breath was tight, gasping as she squeezed her eyes shut, and her whole body began to shake.

“Mari,” he said, hoping to get her eyes to open again. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Please, just … don’t leave me,” she whispered. Then her whole body went limp as though she was descending into the darkness of her mind.

Dax stared at her for a moment. He knew it then, the place he had to go to save her. “I won’t leave you,” he replied softly, lifting her into his arms.

Where he had to go, where he had to take her to heal, was a risk. It would be considered a betrayal after years of protection, of secrecy. Was he really willing to risk all of that for this one siren?

Mari shifted weakly in his arms, her body curling into his warmth. Her face pressed against his chest, her breathing faint but steady .

She had no one else. No one to pull her back from the brink. The thought of leaving her or watching the life drain from her body was unbearable. No, she didn’t deserve that. She had saved his life; now, it was time for him to repay the favor.

Dax glanced in the direction he had to go, his chest tightening as doubt clawed at him.

But as he took his first step, the forest answered, moving on an unnatural wind to part the path ahead.

Branches swayed, leaves whispering softly as though urging him forward.

He adjusted Mari in his arms, her faint breaths brushing against his neck, and pressed on.

~

The hours blurred together. Each step he took was measured as he carefully navigated the forest. The towering trees watched him silently, their shadows twisted under the pale moonlight.

He paid attention to every sound—the distant sound of owls, the crunch of his boots over dried leaves—listening to the chorus of night as he ignored the ache building in his arms. Several times, he considered stopping to rest, but each time he glanced down at the sweat gathering on Mari’s brow or felt her faint pulse, he knew there was no time.

When the first red poppies appeared beneath his boots, vibrant and startling against the dark forest floor, he froze. For the first time in hours, it was a sign. His eyes traced their bright petals, every one a sign of home.

Relief and unease warred in his chest, the weight of his choice pressing harder than ever.

His eyes trailed up the massive trunk of a nearby redwood, its gnarled bark twisting upward into the darkness. Somewhere high in the canopy, hidden among the towering branches, was the lookout. He knew it was there, even if his eyes couldn’t find it.

A low hum filled the air, subtle and steady, like the forest itself was breathing. He wasn’t alone anymore.

Dax shifted Mari’s weight, her head lolling against his shoulder as her breath fluttered faintly against his collarbone. He tightened his hold, his gaze lifting to the unseen watcher above.

“Either someone is getting lazy, or they’re shocked to see me,” he shouted toward the lookout.

“Or they’re already waiting for you,” a smooth, feminine voice said from behind him.

The corners of Dax’s lips tilted upward. He turned his head just as a tall female with a black braid draped over one shoulder stepped out from the shadows, a bow slung casually across her back. The moon’s pale light shone over the streaks of white in her braid, revealing her heritage.

“And maybe a little shocked,” she added, her voice cracking as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Dax stared at her for a long second, her familiar presence tugging at something deep in his chest. Finally, he exhaled softly.

“Hey, Kenna.”