Whispers of Dragons (Taming Beasts 2) [Prologue-Chapter 1] PREVIEW

Prologue: Frozen Fire

Before the story of the Ice Mages and Kari and Ori and their war, there was Kari and Ori’s beginning, which most don’t desire to tell.

Born in between the lands of fire and ice were two brothers, one bearing fire and the other, ice. Kari and Ori were the names they chose where Kari meant ice and Ori meant fire, as spoken in the Dragonish tongue.

At first glance, they looked nothing alike, one with hair of snow, blindingly white, and the other with locks of darkness, just like the cinders of what he burned.

The world was once empty, void of any Dragons but them, just two brothers who loved each other and decided they were of the same blood.

Together they grew up, ate what they could find, and explored the empty lands until suddenly, just like that, a woman appeared before them, born of the hottest elements of the boiling lands.

Having never seen a woman, they stared, shocked, at the waves of dark hair falling to her back. Her body was different from theirs, with lumps on her chest, a thin waist, curved hips, and nothing below her waist.

Ori instantly felt his heart beat for the woman, so he offered his hand to the one with eyes just like him. And she took it, feeling drawn to him just as he was to her.

Unlike them, she never chose a name, so Ori gave her one, calling her Ri.

Ori then became close to her, more than he was with Kari. They even found vines and wrapped them around their wrists, showing they’d always be one.

Kari felt a little envious of their companionship. For some time, he left them, going back to the Ice lands.

While traveling, he found one just like Ri, but this one was sealed within the ice, with hair of snow just like him, eyes and lashes frozen shut, and lips blue.

Fascinated and longing for the same companionship Ori had found, he shifted to a Dragon and dragged the block of ice to the Fire Lands, where he watched the ice melt over time, hoping he too had found the one to wrap vines around his wrist with.

In the meantime, he returned home to his brother and Ri just to find her belly swollen and both living in a nest built of stone. So much had changed in the months he had disappeared.

In confusion and shock, Kari assumed Ri was dying, having never seen a midsection so distended, but Ori made his brother touch her belly. Underneath his palm, Kari felt a shimmer of movement.

Life…

Ori then explained to Kari about the act of lovemaking and how they were able to create more life within her.

Excitement brewed in the Ice Dragon, so he traveled back to where he’d left the woman embedded in ice. Instead of a frozen block, he found a beautiful woman, completely different from Ri. Fair hair, much like his. Skin pale and glistening from the melted water. Eyes brilliant blue. Long white lashes. Unlike Ori’s woman, her face was gentler, and the mounds on her chest were larger.

As Ori had done with Ri, he too offered his hand to the helpless woman still sitting, hoping she would take it, just like Ri did, but she didn't.

The woman just stared at him with wide eyes, confusion gracing her features.

Kari frowned and withdrew the hand-in-offering. He then sat there beside her, trying to get close, but to no avail.

She was different indeed.

Despite the woman seemingly not drawn to him, he named her, the word unique and cast from his lips so pleasantly.

Rai.

It took hours of convincing, but she eventually followed Kari, going deep within the Fire Lands, despite how her body naturally protested against the elements.

If he did it, so could she. Or so Kari had thought.

The Ice Dragon yearned to show her off to his blood brother, but he was selfish in his ways, not even looking once behind him to check up on her.

On their arrival, they saw Ri holding a small Dragon within her arms, and at her side was Ori, whose dark claws were gently caressing the tender cheek of this tiny being.

Kari smiled, wanting one day for the woman beside him to deliver a small dragon, but when he turned to look at her expression, he noticed she wasn't focusing on the baby at all but on Ori. She was helplessly fascinated by the Dragon who bore fire.

Ori soon noticed the woman at Kari's side, his hand drawing away from the baby's cheek, and the first thing he did to greet the new woman was touch her long white hair.

Jealousy brewed within Kari secretly. Later that night, he claimed the maiden’s innocence, and when she screamed, his hand swallowed them all...

“Bullshit!”

An aggravated voice calls out suddenly, and the storyteller’s words halt. His eyes move away from the large crowd to the back, where the King of Oria, Orval, stood tall, and beside him, his Queen Vrai. Snow falls gently around the couple, snowflakes that came from the Ice Lands or what is known as Yulor presently.

"How so, my King…?" the storyteller asks as he blows smoke out from his lips, his hand with the pipe resting on his lap.

Royalty...in a Theka village? The old man thinks tiredly, his words not finding a voice. They are unable to blend in with the crowd.

Unexpected indeed…

"This entire story is. First, fucking bullshit is the beginning. Ori and Kari were born in a castle by a Queen," growls the King. "And Kari was the one betrayed by humans."

The old man chuckles. "Well, I am a storyteller for a reason, my King."

How foolish of him… How does he think the castle was built, and how did the Queen get there, to begin with? It is the elements that birthed them Dragons. The storyteller muses to himself.

"Yes, but you can keep your shit tales to yourself and stop spreading lies about the Great Dragon Kari like that. You're lucky. In the capital, you would have been hanged by now. We're leaving." He tries to drag his Queen with him, but she digs her heels into the ground.

“I want to stay,” she whispers, her eyes of white rolling toward the King. “I want to hear the end.”

“Suit yourself. I will be nearby. Out of earshot of this shit story,” he reiterates as he departs, leaving the crowd behind but not moving too far from his wife.

So, the King is close to his Queen. The storyteller notes the fact, then clears his throat and continues with his story.

“After the loss of Rai’s innocence, the sun drew further away from the Fire Lands, and days became darker, signaling their winter had come.

Tied around the ice maiden’s wrist was the same vine Ori and Ri had, but unlike theirs, she had frozen hers, hating her now-husband Kari.

During the darkest days, she watched Oris and Ri’s baby grow bigger day by day, and she always lingered near the fire maiden, trying her best to stay away from Kari. She never spoke of his force or violence, uttering not a single word but keeping it all to herself.

Rai was quiet, secretly yearning for closeness with Ri’s husband, Ori. And despite Ori’s own love for his wife, his eyes kept drifting to the ice maiden, who was not meant for him but for his brother.

The two, despite all odds, grew close. At first, a friendship, then a romance bore between them, something that Ori had not felt for his wife or Rai for Kari.

They laid together many times, despite ice and fire not destined to entwine but meant to stay far apart, even the lands designing them that way.

On one of the many nights they spent together, Rai took soot from a bowl and drew on Ori’s face and body, labeling him a true leader, unlike Kari, and declaring that he would one day rule the lands.

Ori’s heart grew warm at her words, and he laid a kiss on her cold lips. But unbeknownst to them, Kari had been watching all this through a crack in the stone.

Filled with betrayal and wrath, he waited until his brother left to join Ri and their baby, then he stepped into the stone building Ori had built for Rai, now realizing the reason.

As Rai started dressing, Kari snuck up on her, grasping her from behind and slamming her against the stone, thereby confronting his wife about what he had just seen.

She had nothing to say to Kari, so she froze up. When she spoke no words to him, he grew outraged, plunging his fingers into her eyes and ripping them out.

She screamed and cried and fell to the ground, holding the empty orbs where her pale eyes had once been, blood spilling along with tears.

In his palm, Kari held her eyes, which had stared at Ori’s naked body one too many times. So, he froze them and shattered them against the ground.

Without vision, Rai was helpless. She tried to crawl away, to escape this torture, but she always had trouble shifting into a Dragon, unlike the others.

She had not gotten far from Kari when he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her outside her home. Her empty sockets streamed blood, soaking the clothes that she had dressed in and the ground she was wrenched upon.

He brought her to one of many cliffs of the land we now know as Oria and whispered the last words into her ear before shoving her hard.

"I tried to love you."

Rai fell back, plunging off the rockface, out of control. And her life ended short when she crashed onto the earth below, becoming nothing but a mashed pile of flesh and bones. A stain on the pristine surface.

Tears fell from Kari's eyes, turning to ice for the first time, and a coldness began instilling in his heart from that moment on. All he had was his blood brother.

Ori was devastated over her disappearance, and after days of searching for Rai, he found her remains at the bottom of the cliff. He cried and bellowed more than his own brother.

His wife Ri, never saying anything about the affair, didn't shed one tear over her friend's death. The only thing she did was console her husband.

Kari then left the Fire Lands, using his wife's death as an excuse, and he traveled far into the ice and snow, looking for a woman to replace what he’d destroyed but never finding anyone close.

Many ages passed, and Ori and his wife bore many children, a growing population of Dragons. In the memory of Rai’s words, he did not mark himself with tattoos, but he did for his children and only the strongest at that.

He was no leader without her.

From there on, they continued to build their civilization, but Ori never forgot Rai’s death. In the place she had died, he built the chambers of remembrance, a place where all royals are now laid to rest in Viss. Somewhere deep in the vault, hidden from all eyes, lies her body.

It wasn't until at least a thousand years had passed when Kari and Ori met again after her death, and with it came the discovery of humans. From there, you know the story of Kari's demise.

Did he deserve his death depends on whether you believe in my tale?"

The storyteller finishes his story, and his eyes linger on the Mage Queen instead of any other, while the crowd rumbles in a debate about whether it is true or false or if Kari deserved his fate dealt by the humans.

She, after hearing the silence of his voice, walks carefully back to the King, and as they speak, the King continuously frowns, disliking the story the old man had narrated.

The storyteller smirks slightly as the crowd tosses coins into his jar, but his eyes linger on the Royals, his eyes never straying.

How similar they were to Ori and Rai in the tale.

He wonders what the Queen herself thought. Her blindness made it hard to decipher what she was exactly thinking.

King Orval and Queen Vrai—he wished them a better life than that of their ancestors.

Chapter I: Half-Blooded Orc

It is cold here, just as I remember Yulor to be, though this is not my home country. This is still Oria, but I believe we are close to where Orval once snatched me as a Dragon and whisked me away to the fiery depths of the capital. It makes me think so much. If anyone else is in my position, surely they will yearn to go back home, but there is nothing I desire because everything I wished for while imprisoned in the tower is here.

So much has changed since then…

We walk together, and I am happy to be by his side, enjoying his attention, his warmth, and the tenor of his voice. Before it was not so much, but I am learning. His words and actions are cruel, but there is so much more to him than what he reveals. There is a heart he keeps so well hidden.

The snow crunches underneath our boots, and if I am too slow, the King lingers in wait for me, turning it into a slushy mess due to his magic. I find it rather cute, but I will never dare to speak the words out loud. He is sweet in many other ways. Too shy and proud to say he is cold, but I have not failed to notice his jackets are thicker, the material warmer, lined and trimmed with fur, all sensed from the subtle touches of our arms.

I embrace the nippy winds and the chilled air I inhale, yet I think how Yulor must suffer greatly this year, as winter is not yet near. Summer it is in Oria, yet at her borders, snow is continuously falling from the skies. Early this morning, it began, and it only grows stronger. Just like the storm, the storyteller's tale persists in my head, playing on a loop about Kari being evil and killing the first female Ice Dragon because her heart longed for Ori and his reciprocated.

Maybe he deserved to be slaughtered…

"Do you not think his story holds any truth?” I ask the King as we walk side by side, curious to know his thoughts.

"No," he says in response. "Not a word."

"Well… it's an interesting tale, right?"

"A hideous one. You have to be a gullible fool to believe any word a coin beggar speaks," he hisses out. "We spoke about this earlier, Mage. Why drag it on?"

"I want to hear your thoughts. I think it to be rather romantic when Rai drew on Ori's face, thus creating the reason why you Dragon men bear such markings on your face and body, a remembrance of his true love," I remark, going to reach up to touch his face, but he abruptly stops me, snatching my wrist.

"If you touch me here, it will make me seem weak," he hisses softly, tossing my arm back to my side. "Be careful with your actions. We're King and Queen, not regular husband and wife."

We are in a Theka village. Who is watching and judging us?

But I guess rumors spread quickly in this land. It reminds me of the time when he said he didn't want to appear weak by wearing a flower crown. I guess in some ways he would have appeared so, but I think if he had worn it, his people would have seen him to be more than a cold tyrant.

He walks in front of me, throwing orders around, "We have more traveling ahead. Hurry up and fill yourself with food instead of garbage tales, then we will depart to the Duke’s castle.”

"I'm not hungry yet," I murmur, not feeling the need to eat anything other than a simple craving for meat later...maybe. I'm not entirely sure what I want.

"You will eat, my Queen. I will not have a sickly child as my heir. Viggo told me three proper meals a day, and we have only been having two. And have you been taking those things he gave you? Vitamins?"

"I don't want to get sick. And, of course, I have," I assure him, worrying about how bad the nausea sometimes gets after I eat.

Perhaps because it was a child of fire magic. Aldis must have been this sickly too, only to be dealt with such a horrible fate afterward.

"Haven't you passed that stage?" he asks.

"From what the women have told me, yes…" I mutter. "But they also said it varies for everyone. Sometimes I still feel nauseous."

Maybe Dragon women and Mage women are different in this aspect. I know we are completely different when it comes to monthly blood and heats, so why not pregnancies?

"Well, you're eating, and if you get nauseous, you get nauseous. It's not good for the baby to skip meals."

Does the King truly know anything about pregnancy instead of what Viggo may have told him? I doubt it. He knew how to pleasure women, yes, but when it came to anything beyond that, I think he knows very little. His lack of experience has him fretting and guessing.

"Then I will eat." I sigh deeply.

If the child is sickly, he will certainly blame me for skipping meals, and this way, he can't.

"What do you want to eat? All the food around here is cheap or disgusting. The only thing I can tolerate is the bread." He grabs my upper arm and pulls me to a place where the smell of different foods grows stronger.

"I am fine with anything." The cold air reminds me of the times when I ate nothing but moldy bread and soup and warns me that I shouldn't be fussy. "But meat sounds appetizing."

"Meat, huh…? Then we will get you meat. That's a good sign you're going to have a boy."

"A boy…? It's only a craving."

"It's been said that if you eat a lot of meat, it is a boy, and if it's a girl, you eat a lot of pastries and bread."

"If that's the case, you should be happy. A boy—a prince—is what is wanted as your firstborn heir, is it not?"

"Yes, it is. Rhys and the council will be pleased if the child is indeed a boy. A good omen."

He doesn't seem to be genuinely happy about the child inside me being a boy, but he didn't want a child to begin with. So how can he be happy about either gender?

Will he even be like a father when he or she is born? Or will he ignore and only treat the child as someone who will take his place, no better than an apprentice? It concerns me. No one has taught him how to be a father, but the same could be said about me. I knew my mother for only a brief amount of time.

He drags me over to one of the vendors on the side of the street, and like always, the person with very little to no magic is awkward to see us. She stutters, "My King… My Queen… What can I do for you?"

"Get me whatever the meat on the stick is called," the King orders for me.

"Yes. Mirromice skewer," the woman replies quietly.

"Mirromice…as in the rodent?" He sounds disgusted and appalled by this. "Is that really what you are selling?”

"Yes." The woman’s voice cracks again. She is certainly afraid of him.

"Disgusting! You certainly will not be eating this. You will get some disease even if it's charred," he says to me. "We can find something else."

Before the King can turn down her offer completely and leave, there is a voice booming behind us. "Might I say, they're delicious. Rodent or not. They have plenty of meat, along with grease and spice on them to match anything a King or a Queen has ever tasted. It is the same with raven hearts coated in chocolate. Delicacies around here. You two should try them."

I turn slightly, and the man with a loud voice shoves in between me and the King, which makes the King growl, "Orc…"

I am a bit surprised by the stranger's brash decision to come between us like this when others have been so hesitant even to approach us in the village. In the capital too, there are none who behave like him. Shockingly more, he places one of his hands on my shoulder, and I feel a chill run down my spine. His hands...they're ice cold.

Looking up, all I can perceive is a large mass of magic hovering over me, and it is just like his stature—tall, huge, and thunderous. He even looms over the King, who I, so far, believed to be tall. He has done well to ignore the King's comment about his species, but his silence in this matter, I do not think, is from respect or fear.

He has ice magic, but that is impossible. He is an Orc…maybe a halfling then?

A Mage and an Orc… It is a little hard to imagine the coupling, but I assume such things have happened, and somehow, he has landed himself in a Theka village in Oria.

"I will have ten of the Mirrormice, little miss." He hums a little too cheerfully about his decision to purchase an overabundance of food. "Oh, you only have thirteen? Let me just get them off your hands, buy them all."

I start to remember Ava and Catherine's discussion about Orcs, especially their appetite, with Ava saying they were disgusting people while Catherine informed me that she used to date one in the past. This Orc, at least, isn't smelly, as I imagined. Actually rather clean.

"Get your disgusting hand off me, or I will burn it," the King snaps after seconds pass, his temper showing itself.

"Oops…my bad." The Orc chuckles lackadaisically, and I assume he lifts his hand off his shoulder but not mine. "I forget Kings are always so...what's the word for it...touchy. Get it? Because you don't like to be touched?"

I then hear coins clattering against the wooden table as the woman murmurs reluctantly, "Here is your food."

She wants no part in our discussions.

"Thank you. Always a pleasure doing business with you, little miss. When you're done tending to others for the day, I have some needs for you to take care of as well. Feel free to meet me by the red house. That's where all the young ones go to hook up," the Orc reveals.

Flirting? Is he actually flirting with her? Here, in front of the King and me? He lacks manners, not that I care, but I’m sure the King’s temper has only grown worse.

The red house... I wonder if that is something equivalent to a whore house around here.

"Oh—" is all the shop vendor says, unsure what more to utter at his blatant flirting and his attempt to treat her like a whore. If I were her, I would have been offended.

"And this is for you, my Queen. A gift from me to you, as obviously your King does not feed you well." Something warm pushes against my lips. If the King wasn't already mad, he is now, his magic flaring and spiking at the Orc’s audacity. I grow immediately concerned about how this situation will play out.

I grab what is shoved against my mouth, the taste of salt and spice delicious on my lower lip as my tongue flicks out, getting the flavor.

This is exactly what I want.

My fingers wrap around the stick, and I'm unsure if I should say thank you or not. If I do, I’ll surely enrage the King further.

"Just because other women do not want you, it does not mean that you should go for my blind wife right before my eyes, the one who cannot see all your ugliness and whom you think will be dumb enough to fall for your odd words and gifts," he hisses out a warning as he moves back to my side and throws the Orc's hand off my shoulder.

Did he really think I would fall for a man because he gave me food and spoke a few words…? How insulting of the King. The two of them are dreadfully awful.

The Orc retains his happy-go-lucky mood and speaks with his mouth full of food, his magic leaning toward Orval. "Oh, you're mistaken, little King. My interest does not lie in such skinny and small-waisted women. I was only being respectful. Women are a gift, soft and lovely with their sounds and their curves."

I can only imagine that talking so close, without chewing, would have caused spit and unchewed food to fly onto the King's face.

Is that his intention? To pick a fight with the King?

The King's Dragon starts to wake up when it has been so sleepy and peaceful in all our travels. I watch it bare its fangs toward the large mass of ice magic. Its red eyes burn in the darkness, and the air around it sizzles with a flash of heat. Nostrils flare and jaws part to reveal eager teeth seeking to mutilate.

"I only tolerate you beastly Orcs because you cook well, and I have placed some of your people to work in the capital, but I do not welcome anything or anyone from the Ice Lands, half or not. Disgusting and vile you are. I will have you hanged in this very Theka village for daring to disrespect me to this degree," the King yells, his ire getting him fired up.

Fire blazes out around his Dragon as it wakes up some more, and his magic targets the Orc, but ice magic counters it, much to my surprise.

The Orc knows how to use his magic then. He backs away, still chewing and eating his food. "Ooo...scary. I thought all Kings were all bark and no bite," he mocks him further, ice falling and exploding against the ground. Just as powerful as mine or one of the royals from Yulor.

Could he perhaps be a part of the royal family like me…? A bastard?

"So, is your wife not welcomed, either? Disgusting and vile, huh? I see how it is. I guess he does treat you poorly, but I’d assumed so earlier too. How could something like him be with a little Ice Mage like you? I mean, look at the bruise on your forehead."

Bruise? Oh, that still hasn't healed?

"Shut your fucking mouth, you beast," the King shouts as he steps forward in anger, unsheathing his sword, ready to go in for the Orc’s blood. I grab his arm, apparently never learning from my past mistakes, but this time no burns come from it, his magic automatically dispersing upon my touch.

Did he do that on his own, I wonder…?

"Whoa, Whoa!" The Orc exclaims loudly, but his tone never changes, even in the face of the King's complete seriousness. "Didn't mean to be disrespectful to you, little man or well, King. I'm just stating the obvious. Take care now. Sorry about the spit. I just get over-excited about…you know…food, and I forget my manners." He begins to laugh, but his magic fades away, and so does his voice as I hold on to the King's arm tightly.

"Why did you stop me from teaching the Orc a lesson? I would have had him burned alive and used his charred corpse as a decoration in the village, giving this place some overly due sunshine," the King growls, wrenching his arm away from me.

"People are already afraid of you...your own people," I murmur. "Do you want to make it worse by murdering someone over such a simple dispute or disrespect?"

Not to mention, the Orc has Ice Magic like my own, and the King has not yet completely healed from my own ice, which did enough damage to him. He may try to hide it, but I know he has been favoring one arm over the other.

The King just clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to me, just walks forward. "We're going now. Enjoy your wonderful disease-riddled food given by some gross Orc who spat on me."

Jealousy…? Is that what I'm hearing in his voice? I don't think I’ve ever heard the King like this.

I follow his magic and take a bite of what is considered garbage in the King's eyes. Much to my surprise, it is good, like the Orc told us.

I chew and swallow, the flavor like nothing I’ve ever had before at the castle. I grab onto the King, trying to lighten the mood and push it to his mouth. "Try it."

"No, it looks disgusting, and I don't want anything he has given you, Mage," he grumbles, forcing my hand away. "Now stop pushing it to my lips, or I will burn it to cinders, and you will have nothing."

He likes threatening to burn people and things, it seems. Not to mention hanging people.

"Just take a bite, and I will leave you alone. I'm embarrassing you, aren't I?" I whisper delicately, still holding my hand out somewhere by his face, despite his shoves, knowing he hates being made a spectacle in the public’s eye.

He growls at me and hisses one last time as he grabs my hand to bring the food to his mouth. "I do not respond well to idle threats. But heed my warning, I will return the favor of embarrassing you, and it will be much worse than making you taste food you do not wish to try."

I hear him rip a piece of meat from the stick, and I bring my arm back down to my level, not forcing him to try some more. I ask, "Well?"

He scoffs after he swallows. "Just like I told you about the storyteller. It is awful and revolting. This is not good food."

I want to laugh, as I know that when the King does not like something, he spits it out almost immediately. He does such things frequently at the castle, but here he swallows it, which means he enjoys the food. Never has he attempted to pretend. He cares not if others see him spitting food out.

"Ok, and I look forward to your revenge," I say in a teasing manner as I continue to eat.

I follow his magic back to the carriage.

I like his teasing… This is new.

I hear him chuckle but not loudly, "Oh, I'm sure you will, Mage. I almost guarantee it."

TO BE CONTINUED IN WHISPERS OF DRAGONS (TAMING BEASTS 2)

DECEMBER 23, 2022

The Siren's Mistress (Water Brides 1) Out Now!!

The Siren's Mistress ebook, paperback, and hardcover are now available to purchase on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and more! If you're in the mood for a dark and erotic autumn read this is it!

Mayme is selected as a bride of the sea...given to a God (a Siren). Despite all those sharp teeth and odd behaviors can he be a true and benevolent shapeshifting husband like the stories foretell he will be? Or will he succumb to his dark ways...and nature, and let everything fall apart?

Happy reading,

Dolly Nightmare

The Siren's Mistress [Prologue, Chapter 1-2] PREVIEW

Prologue: Bride of The Sea

91 Days Till Winter

The warm, sultry days are over; the sea breezes have turned cold much like tonight. They whisk through my hair, creasing my dress, the light mist leaving behind salty kisses on my flesh. It feels like a cleansing, the gust washing over me, just like the moonlight on the black waters surrounding me. The crash of the small waves against my boat and the larger sprays against the rocky shoreline feel relentless and drown my ears of the subtle sounds.

My body yields to the reverberation, a slight tremor starting in my muscles and shivers caressing my spine. I do not fight but welcome it. I’ve always felt one with the island like I belong to these waters ever since I was a little girl. The golden sands, the turquoise waters sparkling in the sun’s rays, and then the stars that dance upon the waters at night. It does not matter if it were night or day. I belong to them just like they belong to me.

Though the other villages from nearby islands do not feel the same nor do they honor our Gods, the Sirens. They are ignorant of the old ways, choosing to forget our origins, how we too once came from the seas. Instead, they mock the teachings and are cursed, lacking the protection of the Gods.

As far as I know, we are the only ones to accept and worship them, but I have never ventured away from the island, not even to fish. But the stories of our Gods are ingrained in me so much so that I could retell them from memory, much like our storytellers. From a very young age, we have been told the Sirens own the sea, ruling all marine life. To not pay homage is sacrilege, and those who don’t will be banished from the village to live all eternity in shame.

I do not understand why one would do such things, as in my eyes our island is a paradise. All of it is beautiful as is dangerous.

And I suppose it is in that way, the best I can describe Gimgar.

A loud crash against the boat brings me back to my daunting reality, and with the waves getting larger by the second, my boat wobbles and sways, scaring me. At this moment, I feel so alone in the darkness, disconnected from everything, more of a sacrifice than a bride.

The villagers feel far away at the moment. I can barely hear their drums and singing which normally echo across the open waters, but the huge waves hitting the shore have quieted them since I started my journey

The bonfire on the shore too is distant, looking like an angry red ant, from where I am bobbling in my boat as the sea steals me farther away. The comforts of human life have been abandoned, as all I can see around me is darkness and what lies beneath. I wait, my eyes combing the water’s surface, the candle I hold barely casting any light into the depths of the sea.

The melted wax slowly slides down, past its holder, dripping and cooling instantly when it hits the wet boat. If He doesn’t show up, it means He hasn’t accepted me. I hold the candle over the edge, peering down into the waters. Praying and hoping I would be accepted as His bride. I would bring shame to my family and dishonor to the entire village if I returned home without acceptance.

A scary thought crosses my mind. Will I be banished? Where will I go?

Suddenly a loud noise and a crash at the bow causes the boat to tilt heavily on the side I was leaning over. It frightens me and I jerk back, hitting the other side. My action rocks the boat back and forth violently, nearly making me fall into the water. Only my tight grip on the stern prevented it.

My heart pounds as I try to find my balance, still holding on to the candle firmly. I don’t want to be without any light in this inky blackness that my world has turned into. The moon and stars seem to have disappeared as the sky is cast with dark shadows.

I frantically look ahead where the sounds originated, unsteadily crawling forward, with the candle outstretched. I then hear a splash to my right, and I swing the candle in that direction. Then another disturbance in the water, and my hand jerks toward that, the little light creating a small arc of illumination on the surface of the sea.

Another noise from behind the boat startles me, and I turn around sharply. This time, I see something, my eyes follow it, refusing to give up the chase. A long tail breaks the cacophony of waves, bathed in silvery shimmer before it is swallowed by the dark. The only evidence left behind is the small ripples joining the waves.

Did I imagine it?

I know the sea likes to play tricks. I have heard enough tales from the fishermen on how the sea likes to make you see things that are not real. My breath hitches in my throat.

Or He could be here…

I turn my head in all directions, searching for the elusive Siren. I grip the plank of my seat only for my fingers to tangle in the spider webs, making me pull back in fright with a yelp. I shake my hand, the silken webs sticking to me, making me forget the sea’s guiles. Immediately I wipe my hands on my white dress, anything to make the feeling of spiders crawling over me go. Then I hear the trickle of water coming directly from behind me. Something has surfaced, and it is behind me.

Thump thump thump

My heart begins to beat rhythmically in tune with my rising fear, but I know I have to look.

I slowly turn on the seat and at first, see a long tail raised out of the sea. It reminds me of the end of a fish. Water flows down its smooth shiny surface on either side, including the long frilly flukes, with droplets pattering the surface. Then I see a long-gnarled hand reaching for me. Grim remnants of the sea bottom darken its nails, more like claws, and my breath stops in my throat.

He is here… is all I think, looking up into the dark brown orbs with flecks of shimmering gold in them. Eyes that remind me of soil and sand. They are so animalistic, like an eel’s eyes, zoning in on me automatically when I turn to face him, watching me like I am nothing but prey.

He cocks his head, his nostrils flare, taking in my scent, and I see the smallest flicker of movement in his neck with each inhale and exhale. His claws touch my cheek, just the tips, before he drags them down my face. The feeling is ticklish, and I squeeze close my right eye, the feeling odd, his hands cold and wet and the webbing in between his fingers even odder. A trail of slime streaks all where he touches.

I hold myself in place letting the Siren study my face and learn my features, but I couldn’t hold back the shudders coursing down my body, some due to cold air but mostly it is him.

He must like me so far… the elders have told me if a God is unhappy, he will let me know instantly. I start to wonder what happens to unwanted brides. I’ve never heard of tales explaining that.

His claws traverse lower, down to my neck, and his eyes too slip from my face to follow his hand. A sudden burst of pain like that of a prick makes me flinch and drop the candle I have held onto so well. Although it bounces, the flame continues to burn by some miracle, illuminating the hulk of the boat. His hand withdraws to his side, more precisely to his mouth, and before he darts one finger into his mouth, I see a dark liquid coating it.

I swipe my hand on my neck, checking my skin where the pain continues to flare. I feel wetness under my fingertips and pull them up to my eyes. My finger comes away coated with streaks of bright red like the color of my hair.

He must have nicked me with his claws!

Completely horrified, I look at him with utter shock as he sucks the finger smeared with my blood. He stares up at me as he slowly moves back and lets the waters draw him away. I see another movement, his other hand rising from the sea, followed by the sound of water hitting the surface, alerting me and drawing my attention to his wrist.

There is something coiled loosely, bunched up around his wrist. Something red.

He gives it one swift yank and throws it in an arc, dropping it inside my boat. The thing slides with a thud, stopping at the center of the hull by my feet.

A necklace. That’s what he has given me.

The candle’s flame makes it glow crimson, what is potentially coral strung on a dark cord. I look back at him and do not miss him drawing his finger slowly out of his mouth, his bluish tongue wrapping around it one last time. And instead of a smile that I would expect, I am greeted by a line of long and jagged shark teeth, almost in a grimace.

I gasp, the sight bewildering, and I couldn’t prevent the startled sound from escaping my lips. The elders have never once mentioned our Gods have such teeth.

"I accept," he says to me in English, the words falling bizarrely from his lips, rumbling in its tenor, echoing in the air around us, before he sinks beneath the waters.

His tail is the last thing I see, the long muscle flexing before that too disappears under the surface. The color is unusual, a ruddy red, like that of rusted metal.

Once he is gone, I exhale several times, a cumulation of all breaths I held in bravely. I then realize, as I reach for the necklace he has gifted me, how badly my hands and legs are trembling. They must have been like that the entire time he was gazing at me.

Picking up the necklace and bringing it closer to my face, I can smell the sea strongly on it, something I thought I was immune to by now. It is wet and cold, much more frigid than the Siren’s skin.

I am still getting over the realization he’s accepted me... At least that is a good thing. It's better than being denied, but I am so frightened. How can this man become my husband when I am so scared of him from the start?

My fingers clench around the red coral, relief along with worry washing over me. I can't disappoint my elders or my family. I then tie the wet cord around my neck, the coral falling in between my breasts and draped over my shoulders, the color of the necklace nearly matching my hair. I have promised to honor my family. I cannot be afraid. I need to be strong, and by putting the worn cord around my neck, I too accept his offer of marriage.

I will be the next bride of the sea, but if only I had known the dangers of accepting such an offer…

Chapter One: Ghostevil

90 Days Till Winter

I vaguely remember a time before I knew of Sirens and their existence. Those moments of innocence during childhood, where I looked at the sea differently too. I saw fish as fish and man as man. I did not know there existed beings between the two worlds. I was a kid then, and as nature intended, most visions and thoughts of a child fade with the passage of time, leaving behind the eyes of an adult too damaged by the truth. I had, like the rest, once stared at the sea, witnessing the purity in it that I would never perceive again in my life. Today, knowing what I do, I see a mix of emotions, rage under the mask of cold beauty, the waters gray and chilly, with an underlying cruelty to them. The frigid winds that blow across them, churning these waters, are the ones from different lands, and I could almost taste on my tongue the foreign soil from where they originated. I wish I could breathe in more to bask in it and fantasize about these strange worlds, but I feel discomfited by the way the others now stare at me. When the people of Gimgar first saw the gift around my neck, it caused quite a stir. The elders were most delighted when they pulled me back to the docks by the rope tied to the boat, it being my only lifeline to land. I knew not how to use oars or maneuver the boat, nor had they given me one, insisting I did not need them, the rope being strong enough to keep me anchored. But what if it wasn’t? Many thoughts had come to me, much like that one, when I undulated back and forth in the waters long after the Siren had gone, waiting for them to pull me in. I could have tugged on the rope, which was below the dark surface of the water, but fear held me back. What if he had still been lurking or if something else entirely was hanging around to prey on me. So, I waited. Now everyone back home stares at me and most importantly at his gift that falls just above the crevice between the valley of my breasts. As I walk through the village, it is a heavy reminder of the night before and my future. The red coral, as the elders had explained, is precious to the Gods. The Sirens believe it to be one of the many hearts of the sea, and by giving me such a necklace, he is thought to have shown me not only his heart but also his generosity, large enough to give up one from his home. To think he would give me something so special during the first ceremony. I cannot meet the eyes of those who stare at me; instead, I look at my sandaled feet and the path I traverse. All are so curious about me, or perhaps it is the Siren who holds their interest, as not once have they gazed at me like this. I usually tried to blend in with the crowd, my red hair the only thing marking me different. I can hear their gossip; some don’t even make an attempt to hide their words. “She’s nothing special… just a fisherman’s daughter,” an older woman whispers, her voice not hushed enough when I pass by her. “Her hair is her only redeeming quality.” “Perhaps that is why Pamela chose her to be our next bride. But it seems he liked her, and that is all that matters,” the person standing next to her replies, a woman seeming to be younger and full of life. Pamela is the current leader of the elders. A woman well respected. I frown at their words. My red hair has always been special to the people in the village, especially to the elders. I did not think it was, but my opinion did not matter. I am forced to keep it long, so I have only ever known it as such. It falls below my shoulders, in many waves and curling trestles. I want to cut it short, but perhaps my reason lies in my memories. As a child, the other girls always pulled it in fits of jealousy while the boys, young and old, liked reaching out and running their fingers through it in awe and fascination. And because of that, I was nicknamed the ‘sea witch.’ I do not remember who had first deemed me as that, but I do remember the bullying did not end with name-calling or hair tugging. I would get stones pelted at me, though that ended when I became an adult. As I grew up, the torments became more ruthless, and nothing stopped these girls. The only difference was that they discovered they did not need to throw stones to wound me anymore, their words did the trick, sharper and deeper, scraping me raw. When I turned a woman, the men wanted nothing more than to lay with me, but again the elders forbade it. To date, they are adamant I must remain pure for my husband, the Siren, who would then take me as his wife. They use the word sully many times during our talks. It is frustrating, seeing as everything is practically forbidden to me. But their warnings did not stop me from stealing kisses or small caresses from time to time. My lips know another set very well, a certain boy I have grown up with. However, this is done in secret, and no one can ever find out. His name is Laki, a dark-haired, olive-skinned boy with green eyes much like my own, except mine are darker than his. He is also a fisherman's son, a friend of my father. Recently Laki has begun to go out on fishing trips with the two, learning to become a man. Our parents do not know we sneak off together to kiss and take small pleasures in private. If my father knew, he probably wouldn’t be too happy with me. I have never rebelled, never argued about being a woman and not a child. I eventually make my way to my mother's hut, ignoring the whispers and talks amongst the villagers. However nice or cruel their words may be, I have just come to visit her and that is all, else I wouldn’t have ever gone through the heart of the village. Opening the door to the hut, I place a woven basket full of fruit on the table, a gift given to me earlier this morning by the elders. They had left it at my doorstep, the basket containing all kinds of exotic foods that have come from other islands. There were some I had seen the elders eating during celebrations but never once sharing the delicacy with anyone else. The fruit is tempting, but I ignore the empty pit in my stomach and find my mother's room. I stare at the wooden door and raise my closed fist before rapping softly on it. It should have been Uncle Krill's turn to watch over her, but I don’t see him. He must be running late. “Mother, it's me… Mayme,” I say, but I don’t hear anybody on the other side of the door. I know she is there, her body casting its shadow, moving to and from underneath the door. “There is fruit on the table if you want any. The elders gave it to me as a gift.” “Ma, last night…” I stumble over my words, my eyes downcast, watching the reaction of the shadow, “I met a Siren for the first time. He was scary…scarier than what the Elders said he would be.” My parents knew the elders had selected me to be the next bride, and as much as I was elated at the honor, my mother was not. She screamed and protested, refusing their choice of making me the next bride of the sea. I was confused and scared. My father stood helplessly and ultimately, had to lift mother off her feet and half-drag her back to the house, kicking and screeching, with the elders glaring at her from across their plushy cushions on the beach. My father later told me it was because she didn’t want to let me go as I was her only child. So the coming days would be hard on her, her mind and heart weakening as a result and allowing the ghostevil to possess her more easily. Even in the beginning mother was not to be trusted even more so now. In the past it was father or uncle who constantly watched her until I was old enough to understand the ghostevil that took over her soul. On many occasions, when father made the poor mistake of leaving her alone, thinking she had overcome her malevolent spirit, she had attempted to drown herself in the sea while muttering the name “Tzvi.” Tzvi is a word I have only heard once when I was all but a child, but I had thought she was playing and didn’t think anything of it since I was so little. According to the elders, Tzvi is the name of the ghostevil that possessed her when she was pregnant with me. Apparently, she had ventured too close to the sea, when it had turned red like my hair and that is when it took hold of her soul. Though it is not her fault, the evil spirit lulled her in. Now the foul thing causes her to behave strangely and erratically most times. Unfortunately, the elders told me they could not expel the ghostevil from her since it is so strong. The best we can do, in these circumstances, is to supervise her and keep her away from the ocean where its power is the strongest. I then hear her speak from the other side of the door, her voice strained, “Did you accept his offer of marriage...?” She doesn’t sound well... I am hesitant as I run my fingers over the necklace he left for me and mutter softly, “I did, mother.” A hitch of breath… then silence… I hear a creak on the floor. “Ma?” I question when even more silence follows and before long, the door is whipped open, smacking against the wall harshly, causing pictures to fall. My heart drops when she puts her hands on my shoulders and shoves me against a wall. She screams madly, “Are you crazy?! You accepted that monster when you should have just thrown his vile gift back in the ocean where it belongs! That he would have understood! Now you’re stuck with him like seaweed coiled around your ankles. Those creatures, those things are obsessive, in water and on land! They are no gods! They're sea devils.” I stare at her with eyes wide as her fingers curl into my shoulder, nails biting in. I try to pull away, the shock fading, my body beginning to register the pain. “Ma, let go of me! You’re hurting me!” I holler, but she doesn't seem to have heard. Then the front door opens, and I see my uncle. He drops his fishing gear and rushes over to us, pulling my mother off me. My uncle is a tall man, standing well over 6 feet with dark curly hair coming to his shoulders, seemingly wet from the sea. “Renad, calm down!” he yells into her ear as he lifts her up. I have never seen mother act so wildly with me before as she rushes forward and scratches the air around me. Her ghostevil must hate the Sirens. They are, after all, Gods, and it is an abomination. “Take it off!” she screams. “Maybe it's not too late to refuse him! Marry Laki. He's a good man, and you like each other! I can see it in both your eyes!” I can only stare at her, bewildered, as my uncle yells, “Mayme, just leave! I can take it from here. Your presence is only going to make it worse!” I nod, not wanting to be here anymore than I have to be, before swiftly exiting and shutting the door behind me. I can still hear her screams coming from the house, “Let go of me, you stupid prick!! I bet you were with him! Weren’t you?” Him? Mother is talking crazy again… “LET GO!” she screams louder, and I travel further and further away until I can no longer hear her screams but still feel the remnants of the pain she inflicted on me. I sigh heavily, sitting down on the hot sand, staring at the sea waves lapping the shoreline calmly, my heart heavy with rough emotions. I then untie the cord from around my neck, and I am tempted to throw the necklace back into the sea, but as I raise my arm above my head, an invisible force stops me, making my eyes well up with tears. I can’t… I would bring dishonor to my family. I would be dishonored….and banished. My bottom lip trembles, and I drop it in the sand, a frustrated growl leaving my throat. I would be marrying the Siren. I have already decided; he and I have accepted. There is nothing I can do. Mother cannot help it. I’m sure even if I choose to reject the Siren and marry Laki, she will scream and hurt me about that too. Her ghostevil hating happiness and everything that is love. I stare at the necklace in the sand and pick it up, tying it around my neck once more. I am to wed the Siren, and I will be a dutiful wife. I cannot see Laki anymore. That much I know for sure.

Chapter Two: Drowning

89 Days Till Winter

I have been avoiding Laki ever since he came home from fishing with his father last night. I know it isn't right after all the hours we spent kissing and claiming our love for one another, but in the span of one night, I had accepted the Siren. Laki will soon know there can be no going back for me. And even if I want to, I can’t. The elders will never allow it, especially Pamela. But it is going to be a shock to him, as I don't think he ever imagined I would be chosen… Never. During the selection time, too, he had left for fishing late in the evening and stayed overnight on the seas. He used to joke as we lay on the warm sands of the beach that it could be possible I would be chosen as the bride because of my inherent beauty, but then he dismissed the idea as soon as he put it forth, saying I had a large forehead like the Belukha fish. Now I’m sure he is eating his words somewhere. I know he would have asked around about me by now, probably with the other big-breasted woman in the village, Asoese. I know Laki has a fondness for large breasts. He made it apparent he loved mine as he groped a feel every single time during our heated make-out sessions. My breasts are ample and succulent, and I even went as far as to stop wearing a bra for him. I enjoyed how his eyes would look at me with lust. And his desire sent delicious chills down my spine. He made me feel like a woman. On cold nights, like tonight, he always enjoyed how my nipples strained against the fabric of my dress. I always thought doing this made me a pervert, but luckily, I found many women in the village went without a bra, usually the married ones. It was thought to be more natural. I sigh as my thoughts go back and forth in time, mixing the memories of Laki with my present situation. Sitting on the dock with my legs dangling off the edge, I swing them in the water, gently allowing the swells to lap them. It is nighttime, and the only thing I can hear is the sound of the waves and the crackling of the torches that were lit around the dock and along the beach. I then hear a creak from behind me, and I know who it is from the soft padding of the footsteps. I don’t even have to look, and I keep my eyes trained on the water. Laki. “Is it true you were selected?” I don’t respond, hoping he would judge my silence to be a Yes. "So, it's true then…" mutters Laki, almost to himself, as if crushed. "Why did you accept when you had me?!" he lashes out at me. I turn around and hiss, "Because I could not dishonor my family, Laki, or take the chance of being exiled. I would never survive!" He exhales loudly, sounding exasperated as he kneels behind me, saying, "So I'm supposed to just accept that some fucking fish is going to take you away from me?" "Yes. That is the only thing you can do at the moment. And be careful of what you say. They are our Gods," I warn him, slowly turning my attention back to the water, unable to look at him. "We weren't meant to be one…" "I can't accept that, Mayme. Not after I worked so hard to get you." His voice carried forth his anger, and he turns my face toward him roughly. He lays a kiss on my lips, and I immediately pull away. "Laki, we can't do this anymore. I'm to be married." “To that fish man.” His green eyes turn cold then speculative. “Then let me have you…just this once. Spread your legs for me. I don’t want that damn creature to steal that privilege. He won't even know if you’re a virgin or not…trust me. Let me be your first. I deserve it.” I look at him skeptically, disgust making my eyes turn cold. “That’s your worst concern right now? Whether or not you can take my virginity? You want to be my first? Get out of here, Laki! I don’t even want to look at you.” "I didn't mean it like that," he protests, and my mood starts to turn sour more. "I just want to have you. I waited two years for you patiently, listening to all your excuses. I could have had any other woman. But I have been lenient enough to wait until you are ready. But you never were. And now you are going to give it up to this thing.” "Do I need to remind you, Laki? It isn't just a thing; he is one of our Gods!" I yell at him. "And I wasn't saving it. The elders said I couldn't lay with another. They made it clear, almost adamant about it. I'm not going to break that rule after all this time." "As I said, your fucking husband won't even know the difference," he argues. "I don't even think one of those things can have sex. I mean, you have legs, and he doesn't." "If you know anything about our Gods, then you should know they can shapeshift, Laki," I inform, my voice coming across as haughty, which wasn’t my original intention. "Depending on the Siren, some males will mate in the water during the summer and some in the fall on land." "Well, I'm glad you know all about their mating times," he mocks me in a deliberate tone. "I don't think even the elders know shit about them. My dad says they're Sea Devils." Sea Devils… "My mother told me they can shapeshift…and I read some books in the village library to know the rest..." I announce. My mother had also called them Sea Devils, but I would not tell him this or how they are just as dangerous on land as in the water because anything, to them, is perceived as a threat... How many of the others thought the same and still think they are Sea Devils? "So, you believe your crazy mother and some books written by ancient cunts?" he questions me. I glare at him, not saying another word before he mutters, "Sorry." He then leans toward me once there is silence and says, "But think about what I asked of you tonight…" He then captures my lips with his, and one of his hands gropes my breast, making my face red, all the heat in my body gathering in my cheeks. "You still don't wear a bra," he observes, pulling away and rubbing the hardened nipple through the fabric. "No," I murmur. "Doesn't it get cold?" He leans in for another kiss. "Yes…" I whisper. He takes advantage of my softened lips and presses a hard kiss. And even though I shouldn’t allow it, I do. A part of me still likes Laki and will probably always like him. My first love… We kiss for a few minutes, and Laki's hands, never once leaving my breasts, continue to grope them as his tongue slides along my lower lip, snaking into my mouth, trying to find mine. I am about to grant him access, but before I can part my lips, I hear something in the water. I turn my head to the sea, which has been calm so far today, my thoughts automatically going to the Siren. "Laki…" I say, once regaining my breath. "I am promised to one of our Gods. I cannot live with myself if I sleep with you now. Respect my decision and go." From the corner of my eyes, I catch ripples of movement, a slight disturbance to the surface, and an eerie feeling washes over me. The tiny hairs on the back of my arms stand up. Is he watching…? Laki gets up, and even without looking back, I can feel he is glaring at me in irritation, knowing about my stubbornness. Once I set my mind on something, I don’t back out. "So, this is it then?" he questions me. "You're going to completely ignore me, marry someone or something you don't know shit about except from books and rumors, and never once look at me, like… like nothing happened between us?" "Yes... now… leave," I say as I feel my eyes water once I speak these words, my mouth becoming dry, and the words barely leaving my lips. I then feel Laki grab my arm, pulling me up with a force that startles me. He looks me in the eye critically with something akin to hatred. "You know, Mayme…" he leans in close before continuing, "I only liked you for your tits anyway." My eyes widen, and he lets go of my arm before shoving me back and off the dock, the last thing I hear from him is, "Have your fish man." Sights blend in the speed with which I fall back before splashing into the water loudly, my entire body sinking fast. My dress absorbs the water and weighs me down. Panic seizes my chest as I find myself under the pressures of water from all sides which seems to want to hold me in its arms forever. My heart thunders in my chest as I try to get to the surface by thrashing my arms and legs wildly, but fail. I don’t seem to be getting anywhere close to the top. I don’t know how to swim! Laki knows this… The air in my lungs gets exhausted, and I begin to choke. Everything in the water becomes much darker and creepier. The movement of my arms and legs becomes sluggish as the water pulls me into its depths. The last remaining air in my lungs is expelled, turning to bubbles and racing to the surface where I can't seem to get to. I feel an intense burn in my chest and a need to breathe. So, I do. Water rushes into my nose and lungs as I continue to sink to the bottom. I am drowning. I open my mouth to scream for help, but at that depths, it is too late. Water finds its way in, wanting to kill me faster. My brain works slower than my limbs, perhaps fear has clouded it, making me take stupid decisions. I feel hurt and most of all, betrayed by Laki, and I know I am going to die because no one ever taught me to swim. It is ironic I live on an island surrounded by water, yet I couldn’t seem to go into it to learn. My father never bothered and my mother’s near-drowning attempts made me more scared to venture into the sea. How naïve and stupid was I?! The dark waters swirl around me, encasing me within it like a prison. I’m not sure how much time has passed. It is hard to keep my eyes open; my vision has narrowed to a pinpoint of darkness. My feet touch the ocean floor, sand kicks up as I land, creating a murky cloud. This is going to be my watery grave, where no one but Laki will know the truth of my death. I let go and move to a place deep in my mind where nothing can affect me. Death is closer than life here now. Just when I am about to close my eyes, perhaps for the final time, I see a movement. A quick flash of a maroon-colored tail and I feel hands skimming along my back and across my middle, before the creature circles around me again, examining my face and body with fascination. I frown, unable to believe my eyes. It is hard to tell if this is reality or if I am delusional. Am I imagining him? He stares at me with unblinking brown eyes that are dark except for the flecks of gold, which look as if they're constantly moving. A small light within the darkness, which are his eyes. My father used to say, eyes are the window to one's soul, but with him, it seems like a very cloudy window I am staring into. Do Gods or these Sirens have a soul? Or are they only for humans…? He picks up the necklace around my neck, seeming proud that I’d accepted his offer in marriage, as a grin blooms across his face, revealing those horrible and gruesome teeth once again. At first, he doesn't seem to understand I am dying, being more animal than human, until he moves toward me, getting closer. The grin disappears, and he presses the side of his head against my chest, appearing to be listening to my lungs struggle. His ears are different than ours, pointed, sharp, and frill like. As if knowing what I needed, he quickly grabs me, yanking me up to the surface, his tail fin propelling us and sweeping the bottom, the sand blown outward in a circle. Once he breaks through the water’s surface, I gag, coughing and trying to expel all that I was never meant to take into my lungs, but my muscles stiffen up. For support, I use his shoulders to rise high above the water level, trying to take in big gulps of air, my body shivering, my vision still blurred. He makes an odd sound, a sound I’ve never heard from a human, a chortle of some sort. I would say this is cute, but this sound has come from him, and he is more deadly than cute. Or this is how I feel anyway…why did I think deadly? I feel his tail brush up against my legs under the water. His scales are smooth, and I jerk away at the feeling. However, I can't let go of him, or I will slip back under the water. It is just strange and odd but not frightening. After a staccato of coughs, I am able to take a deep breath, the cool air soothing to the burning sensation in my throat and lungs. I am desperate and greedy for air and so thankful for it. I look at the Siren. I am envious of his ability to breathe underwater and also above it. They are lucky to have their bodies adapted to both land and water. I wished I had that ability, too. I croak, my throat bruised after this near-drowning, “Land… take me to land.” He stares at me blankly, and it takes him some time and repeated actions from me to process my words. I think his knowledge of the English language is limited to very few words. Perhaps he understood my actions or he knew the word “land” because his eyes dart to the beach quickly. "Land," he repeats the word, his eyes returning to mine, and his nostrils flare before he leans in and smells me again, going back to his animalistic behavior. The next thing I feel is his tongue sliding along my neck, which causes me to shiver. "No, take me to land…please," I beseech him, closing my eyes shut, and his tongue slides all the way up to my jaw and my cheek. "No. Land," he replies in the same tone as if mocking me and my words as he pulls away. I reopen my eyes to see that grin of his, a mouthful of teeth that installs fear in me, no matter how many times I have seen it. Does he understand me, or is he trying to figure out what I mean? From the way he is smiling at me, I assume he knows more than he lets on, or he is smart enough to figure out what I mean just by repeating a couple of words. "Please," I beg, my fingers curling into his shoulder. He then takes one of his fingers and pushes his clawed hand to my lips, "Please..." "I don't want to be in the water anymore," I say, still shivering, hating how my legs are dangling in what feels like a bottomless pit. "Water... is...good," he says slowly as if having to think about the words he wanted. "Water hurts me... please just take me to land," I ask of him, tears beginning to fall from my eyes as I stare at him. Through the tears, I see how his face appears to become human-like except for his ears. Even his eyes change shape, the huge eel-like iris and pupils becoming smaller. He stares at me as if bewildered by my tears, confused, like he has never cried before. Maybe he hasn't... how exactly can you cry in the water? "Water…" he says, scooping up a tear with his finger. Examining it before bringing it to his mouth and tasting it. "Land, please," I whisper, weakening as strength drains from my body. I wrap my arms around him tighter, becoming desperate. He makes another sound, a growl followed by a clicking noise, which is creepier. "Land," he says before lazily swimming toward the beach, finally accepting what I want. His movements are awkward from the way I cling to him, but he makes no attempt to adjust me. When the water becomes shallow enough and my feet are able to touch the bottom, he stops, refusing to come any closer to the beach. His arms slide from mine, and he stares, waiting for me to let go of him. I am hesitant, my body feeling fatigued, but I slowly lessen my grip, finding it in me to stand by myself. I feel comforted that he stays with me. His tail is so close to my body that I feel the little patters of his frills with each lull of the waves. Relief washes over me, knowing I am safe, and I wiggle my toes in the sand before taking a step closer to land. I trudge along, my legs feeling heavy and my arms too. It is a chore to move. I collapse once I reach the beach, and now the only water touching me is the gentle wave that approaches the shore, kissing the soles of my feet. I glance back to see the one who watches me from the sea but is further out in the water than before, and it isn't long before he dives below the surface again, not liking being watched. My fingers curl into the wet sand, and I look back at my hands, but all I can think is how Laki left me to die…even after professing his love for me and all those kisses and small touches. It was all a lie. How dare he! He would pay. And some part of me is glad I would be marrying the Siren, as I cannot imagine marrying Laki now. Never would I think of him or even want to touch him again.