And I just gave her life up for an old, forgotten cove of riches.
“You have to let go now,” my sister digresses. “It’s okay.” Her voice sounds so sure and not scared anymore, it’s more accepting than anything.
It rings my gut inside out, a sharp pain hitting the pit of it as she rubs my fingers with hers in a soothing rhythm.
I violently shake my head. “Let me try some more.”
Her now dehydrated hand tightens around mine. “It’s no use,” she says calmly. “You won’t be able to in time.”
My head shoots up to her. How does she think I’d ever be able to let her go? I’d die for all six of my sisters in a moment’s time before I’d let anything happen to them.
I feel my fingers being pried away from the net. One at a time as she starts to loosen my hold on her prison.
“Rohana,” I snap, trying to close my fingers tightly back around the rope. “Stop.”
I see a tear trail down her cheek as she stays focused on my white-knuckled hand, staring at the only piece of my body that links me to her.
I won’t leave her.
I. Will. Not. Leave. Her.
“Davina—” She breaks into a sob. “—please.”
My brows furrow as tears burn the back of my eyes. “I won’t leave you behind.”
“You have to, Sister. You have to save Kali.”
“She’s fine,” I retort, still squeezing my fingers as hard as I can over the rope. Tucking my blade back into my bag, I grasp the net with my other hand.
“Tell Papa I love him,” she recites through bated breath. “I love you, too.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I seethe. “We’re going to get out of this.”
She shakes her head, halting her work on my fingers. “I’m not, but you are. You must. I will find my way back home.”
You won’t—it’s at the tip of my tongue. No Siren who has ever been caught escaped from the clutches of humans, especially with Hunters.
I glance over at the ship’s deck, men are running amok and shouting orders, but my gaze falls back to that boy who I cut moments ago. His eyes are still locked on me, standing by a tall wooden pillar in the center of the ship.
My arms strain and tremble from my own weight as I demand my strength to stay put. I will never let go of this rope while my sister still lays in this man-made prison.
The boy holds his hand out to me, in a silent greeting I think, then pulls out his long sword with the other. Another moment passes before he moves again, he’s too far away for me to read his eyes, but his face speaks of grief and sadness.
Then he swings.
I don’t know at what, I don’t see it. All I see is myself falling toward the water and into the darkness of the shadows that are cast over by the ship.
My skull is slammed into a wall, followed by a stiff jab to my rib cage. A sharp grunt escapes my lips, but I don’t feel much of anything other than the adrenaline fleeting through every nerve in my body. A large hand grips the base of my scalp, yanking my head back by the strands of my long hair.
That I feel.
My booted foot recoils and propels backward into my captor’s shin. The other man is already prepared, bashing into the back of my shoulder with both of his fists. Without the use of my hands, that are currently bound by rope, my knees give out slightly until I’m hit a second time, bringing me to the pristine white floors.
My face immediately jolts to the side, backhanded by the man I’ve just kicked. The taste of metal hits my tongue, and I feel the slow trickle of blood start to stream down my face.
I spit, glancing up at the blond-haired man who just hit me like a woman. Weather-beaten skin, middle-aged, and dark brown eyes that try to intimidate me with a glower. The brawny lads on either side of me don't have the desired intimidating effect.
I’ve faced worse.
Worse than these two fools that believe dragging and smacking me around is going to induce any fear within me. I’ve faced a battlefield full of hundreds of men—two aren’t going to do it.
Especially knowing what I was possibly walking into the moment I volunteered to carry on my father’s mission.
Or so I thought.
I’ve never been up close to one, only heard Father’s stories of how alluring and dangerous they were.
Calculated and vicious things.
Men sang songs about the beautiful creatures that lured a man to his death by a ballad, or even a look. How you felt like a passenger in your own body with the power they wielded over it.
I’m having a hard time thinking it’s going to be easy walking out of here alive though.
First of all, these men are strong. I jabbed one in the neck, where his gills were opening and closing, and was almost drowned after being battered with a rock. It only confirmed the stories because they had tails when they knocked me off my small boat and now they have legs.
That was my welcome here.
Now I’m inside a room that isn’t like any sort of prison I’ve ever been held in, on my knees.
Everything is bright, colorful, and picturesque. Something of dreams and paintings that I’ve seen. The walls are turquoise glass rimming pearl white floors with gold etched into the tiles. There is no ceiling, the sunlight freely beaming down its rays into the room I’m in.
Wherever I look, every item is from the sea, as though we’re there. Coral makes up the legs of the chairs, what looks to be a large sand dollar is a table.
It’s the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my life, not a speck of dirt but myself and my spoiled clothing dawns the room. Along with the salt water dripping off my clothes, making a small puddle around me.
The men at my sides stand abruptly to attention, faces turned toward the door of the room. A glint of white hits my peripheral as I glance over at a beautiful woman with blinding white hair in the doorway.
The top of her shoulders glint from pearl-colored scales that adorn her skin. An ivory crown made of seashells rests on top of her head as she strides deeper into the room, her sole focus locked on me.
My heart kicks up in unison to her steps as I study her in return. She looks like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life. All her features—eyes, brows, skin, and hair are a shade of perfect white.
Like an angel.
Only I know it’s not going to feel like being in heaven based on the greeting I received before my ass even stepped foot on this island.
I watch her chin lift in defiance, telling me that she’s someone important—though I already got that with the crown. With such a small gesture, she conveys that anything I try to do in this room will not frighten her, but there will be consequences.
Too bad I don’t take any personal interest in fear because I’m too busy invoking it in other people. Filling people with dread seems to be second nature for me, so when she moves closer, nothing but annoyance filters through my body.
Another body enters the room, this time the color blue filling in the features of hair, eyes, and shiny scales, not on her shoulders but forearms. A cerulean jewel hangs off of her shelled crown, hovering slightly over her forehead.
Twins, they are identical save for their different hued appearances.
I inhale a deep breath just for it to be sucked right from my lungs, because two more females march through the door. Not twins this time but just as unique as the first two. The taller one with pink characteristics and the other all black.