Siren: A Dark Retelling

by Hazel Grace

  I bob my head, letting him obtain something of me so he continues to talk. If he wants to chitchat like Tobias does, maybe this is a way in. Maybe it’s a human thing.

  “You must get the brunt of a lot of things.”

  I rub my shoulder, feeling the repetitive dryness of my skin. It starts to itch if I’m out of the lagoon too long. Unfortunately, with the agreement for the desired spell Taysa cast on the island, the sea water actually burns my skin. The lagoon is the only place I can ease the itching and abrading feeling of my body.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks me, laced with what sounds to be concern.

  I rip my hand away from my skin, not realizing that my face gave anything away.

  “You don’t belong out of the water. How is it that you’re able to be on land?”

  Too many questions.

  I begin to push myself off the tiles to stand, which elicits an immediate reaction out of him.

  Yanking my foot from underneath my butt, his grip promptly gets me to react, jabbing my free one into his chest.

  It does nothing.

  Before I can hit him again, my body is underneath his, hovering over me like an animal. He has the hairy bit down, and his beard and hair makes him look like a beast toying with his prey—that being me.

  “I’m sorry it had to be you,” he recites in my face, his breath hot on my skin. “But I have to go.”

  His hand comes up to my throat again, and he squeezes, harder than I remember the first time. My mind is still muddled from being taken by him so quickly, but my siren tendencies—I’m trying to keep them at bay because I’ll hurt him.

  He’s a caged animal, and I got too close, so this is half my fault.

  The air gets more difficult to inhale as he squeezes hard. My eyes meet his, so ocean blue and crystal-like. They are a perfect contrast to his dark features. They’re sad, almost remorseful, as I hear myself choke at him trying to kill me.

  Kill me.

  How ignorant he must be to think I’m so helpless, seeing how I burnt him once already. But the knowledge of what I can do doesn’t seem to cast any sense in this man. He wants to learn the hard way.

  And he’s going to feel it the hard way too.

  My palms find his broad chest, his muscles flexing underneath my skin, and I push—hard.

  His body leaves my space, flying backward in the air as my lungs take in a deep breath. But I don’t wait for it to settle into my body or for me to take another, I’m up on my feet, watching Dagen slide along the floor as his chains halt him from going any further, jerking at his wrists.

  I hear him grunt and suck in a gasp as I wait to see how much time it takes for him to recover.

  I don’t know why he’s so fascinating, but he’s proven to be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever been this close to. And he proved it by making a second attempt to try and hurt me while I’ve been trying to stay civil with him.

  “You forgot to mention you have the strength of ten men,” he mumbles on his knees. His hands are positioned in front of him as he hunches over, blood trickling on the pristine white floors from his wrists.

  I grunt inwardly, he’s already been warned.

  He peers up at me, the corners of his lips curved into a smile. “That’s all you got though?”

  I snort, letting him hear that.

  Actually, it’s not.

  I haven’t seen her in three days, counting the moons to keep track of the time. I’m brought three meals, all different, all delicious, but I’m passed the point of being able to stay in this room any longer. My wrists are bloody and chafed from the metal digging and rubbing into my flesh, but it doesn’t stop me from trying to escape every day.

  I know I’m in some sort of denial about being able to leave here, not wanting to accept the fact that my fate lies in the wish of a woman.

  Or women.

  Attacking Davina was a risk, the only option I had. I was hoping she’d have a key on her for my chains or that I’d piss her sisters off enough that they’d just put me out of my misery.

  Since that didn’t work, I’ve been looting my time with worthless ideas and brooding over the circumstances that I’m currently in.

  Watching the sunrise in the sky, I know that lunch will be here soon. Another man sliding a plate to me and a cup of some sweet drink while not uttering a single word seems to be the routine as of late. No amount of taunting and none of my attempts to anger them have gotten me a reaction in any kind of way.

  They’re as personable as a damn rock.

  A few moments later, the door to the room opens, and I don’t bother to look over at it.

  I’m tired, my body feeling weak from lack of movement. My mind is battered with hopelessness, and I’m wondering when my father is going to come.

  He may not.

  If the risk is too great, he won’t put our men in peril to rescue one man. Even if that one man is his eldest son.

  “You look lonely,” coos a feminine voice, lofting into the emptiness that is my prison.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I take in Nesrine striding through my prison with assurance in every sway of her hips. Her breasts are covered in a black fabric that coordinates with her tan skin that curves into wide hips and legs of a goddess.

  It’s her black eyes that give me pause.

  Mischievous and untrustworthy—they glide over me easily, and I know this isn’t a social call.

  Standing from the floor, I feel better having at least the height on her as she pauses a few feet from me. Shifty eyes still take me in, and I keep mine closely monitoring her next move because something about her reeks of conniving.

  “So they sent in the next one to see if you can get me to talk?” I inquire with a lifted brow. “I hope I didn’t hurt the little one too much?”

  “On the contrary,” Nesrine states, hiking her gaze to my face. “Was checking to see how you are.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Says the blood caked around your wrists.”

  “The art of a prisoner trying to escape.” I give her a quick once-over. “I’m sure you would do the same.”

  “Not exactly because I wouldn’t have done what you did.”

  “Mindless me.” Nesrine hoists a shoulder, one that reveals black and silvery scales that are forming there.

  Interesting.

  Maybe I can keep one of them hostage and from the water. Not sure how I’d keep the rest of them from attacking me but—

  “We all make mistakes,” Nesrine replies, yanking me out of my daily contemplation of impulsive ideas. “It’s how you rectify them that’ll be your test, Viking.”

  “Give it your best shot,” I taunt. “You won’t get much farther than your little sister.”

  She smirks, taking another step closer to me. “I think we’ll give it a try, huh.”

  Her black eyes cast over in a glossy hue, tantalizing and mesmerizing, drawing me deeper into them. I start to relax as I feel every nerve ending in my body begin to tingle in response.

  It’s the first sign to tell me something is wrong.

  Coercing myself with all my will power, I yank my eyes away.

  “Why did you come here?” she asks me. “You’re far from home.” My body buzzes to the sound of her voice, soft and almost lullaby-like.

  It wants more, to feel a sense of relaxation because I’ve been tense and uneasy for days. It’s a comfort of some sort, soothing me into a decompressed state.

  I almost want to sit back down and just let it take me over. Let myself bask in some sort of peace for a little while because the thoughts scattered through my brain have brought nothing but chaos and frustration.

  These chains have not only secured my body in one place but increased the reality that if I don’t betray my father, I’m not getting out of here alive.

  “You must miss it,” Nesrine mutters softly. “Being in a foreign land with people you don’t know can cause a sense of panic.”

  As soon as she says the words, I start to
feel it—worry and alarm.

  My heart begins to race in my chest, thumping in arhythmic beats. Sweat begins to form on my brow, and I peer around the room, just to see it’s exactly the same—nothing’s changed.

  “I want to help,” she issues gently. “Let me help you go home.”

  Her words—they hit my gut.

  That’s what I want. To go home to my hut, eat the food I’m accustomed to in a place where I feel safe. To be around people that know me, respect me. To expand our colony for the growing families that reside there. My mission was to keep them all safe and well, not wanting for anything because I’ll be their leader when my father passes on.

  Hands touch my chest, making me flinch in response. Peering down, Nesrine looks up at me, nothing but sincerity and kindness illuminates off her face.

  She’s beautiful, it’s almost unreal. I’ve never seen a woman with flawless features and skin before. One that carries so much confidence and authority in her curvy frame.

  “I’m sorry,” she offers. “You’re just so...different.” Her fingers slowly descend down my chest until they hit the top of my abdomen. Imploring eyes still look at me, imprinted with vulnerability. As though she needs someone like me to protect her.

  “Are there many like you?”

  I exhale a staggered breath as the trail of her fingers descend. “Yes.”

  She bites her lower lip, her gaze falling to mine as my cock stirs for the first time in—I can’t remember when.

  Rising on her toes, I can smell the sea. The fresh air and some scent of sweet nectar or fruit. The aroma wafts around me, sinking me deeper into this woman’s trance that has offered to help me.

  Maybe it’s because I’m tired of fighting. Or the fact that my restlessness has weakened me into a subdued state. Regardless, it feels good.

  It almost feels right.

  Nesrine keeps her dark eyes locked onto my blues, and I don’t want her to look away. A sense of calm continues to circle around me the more she studies my face—intriguing and speculating.

  She doesn’t wait, letting herself go in this odd transfixion that she and I have. Her lips press into mine, gentle and velvety, coaxing me to follow.

  And I do—I can’t help it.

  My lips widen, slowly taking her deeper. My cock stirring in my britches, hard and aroused, a wave of lust hitting my gut like a swift punch. The tip of her tongue traces mine, and that’s when my hands grip her hips, pulling her delicate body into mine.

  My body is on a high, rubbing my hardness into her stomach, a soft moan escaping her lips as she lets me devour her mouth.

  I’m lost in this sensation of starvation for a woman. One who doesn’t exist in my world. One who possibly doesn’t know how beautiful she is under my taut exterior.

  Grabbing her ass, I lift her, her long legs automatically wrapping around my hips. My dick rubs against her pussy, letting us both get a taste of the friction of what it would and could be like to sink myself deep inside her exquisite body. Her fingertips press into my shoulder blades, silently urging me for more as we battle with our lips and tongue.

  And more is what I’m more than willing to do.

  Every swallow of her moans.

  Every delicate sweep of her lips compels me to give into my hanker for a woman. To let myself live in this moment of pure ecstasy with a female that I will never encounter again.

  Her softness mirrors off my hard chest, her lips mesh in line with mine, begging me to take her.

  It taunts me, picks at my body to just lay her down on this floor and drive myself deep and hard into her enticing body.

  “We need to stop,” I tell her between licks and strains of our mouths. She responds by gripping me tighter, her breasts rubbing along the fabric of my shirt.

  “We should,” she replies. “But it doesn’t mean I will.” She bites my lower lip, releasing it before taking my mouth again.

  If this is hell, I’d gladly lounge in it—it’d be worth the trip.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” I mutter. “I don’t fuck nice.”

  “Exactly how I wish you wouldn’t be.”

  She feels like a feather in my hands, light and easy to maneuver. Accessible for me to even fuck her like this without having to lay her on the hard tiles. I’m drunk out of my mind on an eagerness I’ve never felt this strong before.

  Not since I was a young lad.

  Not since I knew fucking was a way to release built-up tension and stress, besides killing men, and the adrenaline rush it produced.

  “How did you come to be here?” she inquires through another kiss. “How is it that we’ve never met before?”

  “Different worlds,” I reply. “But I’m glad we haven’t.”

  “Oh?”

  I grip her ass tighter. “I’d have to kill a lot of men to keep their hands off a woman like you.”

  She chuckles softly. “Don’t worry, I can kill them too.”

  It crashes down—everything.

  The lust.

  The desire.

  The relaxed state my mind was just in.

  The fact that I’m a prisoner here.

  I immediately drop her, not giving a shit if she falls on her ass, and step back to regain myself.

  I don’t know what happened, how I just indulged in a fantasy where nothing was wrong to realizing that I’m in a shit load of trouble.

  A wicked smirk plays across her face, all-knowing and telling that I was tricked into letting my guard down.

  She didn’t accomplish anything, just the stiffness of my cock, but I still feel used. I was reduced to a pawn in whatever little game she was playing, and we both know what that fucking was.

  “What’s the matter?” she hedges, her lips red and beaten with my kisses. Normally, a man would feel some sort of pride in that.

  Me, I want to wring her neck.

  “You think controlling the way I feel is going to get you what you want,” I rasp, grasping at my nerves to get back in line with my head.

  I feel drugged, disoriented, and battered, mentally and physically after her little witch spell.

  “Was worth a shot,” she surmises. “Besides—” her smirk turns into a full-blown smile. “—it was nice, wasn’t it?”

  “It wasn’t real.”

  She glances down at my cock still hard in my pants. “You sure?” I take a step toward her, hearing the chains for the first time in minutes announcing where I am, how I got here and what I am compared to the creature in front of me.

  “Keep your magic to your damn self,” I sneer. “Because if you didn’t have it, we’d be on different sides right now.”

  “Which only further confirms that I’m better than you, Viking. Don’t forget it.” She takes a step of her own toward me. “And if you touch my sister again, I’ll make it so much worse. That was nothing.”

  “Then tell your sister to stop poking the bear,” I retort.

  She wrinkles her nose. “The what?”

  “Stay the fuck away from me. Kill me or release me, there isn’t any other way this is going to go.”

  Nesrine raises her eyebrows. “Oh, there’s another way. We’ll just see how strong you are to fight it, Viking.”

  “I’m already suited up, witch.”

  “I’m not a witch,” she snaps then releases a heavy, indifferent sigh. “They’re vile creatures.”

  “And you’re not?”

  Her eyelashes flutter. “Did it feel like I was moments ago?” I snap my mouth shut. “I knew you’d be a fun little toy. Keep your heart guarded, brute, you’ll need the extra defense.”

  I narrow my eyes. “That won’t be a problem.”

  Her mouth curves into a smile. “Sure it will.”

  And just like everyone else that walks into this room, she walks out, leaving me alone to ponder my own thoughts.

  I’m fucked, but not when it comes to my heart.

  It’s because my life is in jeopardy to the wants and desires of seven
devious women who want something that they can’t get from me.

  I’d kill one of them first.

  Laying on my plush settee in my small library, I try to devour words about love. I read about a young girl who learns that not all men are what they seem. That’s how I felt about the Viking, as my fingertips brush the nape of my neck where he wrapped his hands and pressed his thumbs into my throat.

  I didn’t think he wasn’t dangerous, just his stature alone screamed unstable, fierce, and strong. His arms were the size of my thighs, his length towered over all my sisters, and his piercing blue eyes bore into each and every single one of us. As much as we don’t trust him, he shares the sentiment, and I can’t say I blame him.

  Problem is, he trespassed on my land, my home, and that isn’t something I’m going to take lightly.

  But for what and how?

  Merindah was supposed to be concealed from the outside world. Unseen by any human or being that sailed or swam by it to keep my sisters and I safe. A stupid idea that we all had, sick of the water and the monotonous sea. Filled with dreams from my mother’s diaries of another world, where humans walked on land and laid in the sun. How they didn’t dry up when out of the water but could go into it whenever they chose.

  She spoke about an island with palm trees and shade. Fruit that hung from plants and animals that lived there. It started a revolution for my sisters and I, including Atarah, to seek out the only person that could possibly make it happen—Taysa the sea witch.

  While she hated the term “witch,” she healed the sick and injured creatures of the blue with her magic, helped build cities, and protected my sisters and I from danger.

  She saved Brylee once from a herd of sharks.

  She mended Kali when she was stung by a bloom of jellyfish, turning her skin pink for a few days, which clashed with her orange features. Isolde loved how she matched her pink hair and eyes, walking around for days calling Kali her twin, which only irked my sister more.

  Taysa was Atarah’s sounding board when she got her heart broken by a siren named Bran. He crushed her spirit to pursue another Siren, and instead of using Nesrine’s abilities to make him feel miserable for all eternity, Taysa told her not to let anyone have that sort of power over you.