A Siren’s Curse (The Shifterverse #3)

In the Rain

Kai

The incessant beating of the music and the flashing lights of the club pound in my head. The alcohol in my system isn’t helping. On stage, women twirl erotically around the poles in nothing but nipple jewels and G-strings.

Their bodies are sexy, with big tits, big asses, and tiny waists. I can’t say much about their faces because I never pay attention to them.

A scantily dressed woman fills my glass, hoping for something more, but I’m not really in the mood for a lap dance. The frown that is permanently set on my face only deepens as the King’s words replay in my mind.

He’s given me a job, and as the Commander of his Western Army, I couldn’t refuse. That was back in the Realm of Alvazakh, a place where status, rank and power are everything. It’s one of the things I like about the human realm; it’s so much simpler… even with their politicians and wars.

“Hey, handsome, can I get you anything?” another woman whispers, her hand trailing over my shoulder. I glance up at her.

“Not unless you’re ready to get out of here?” I remark.. Maybe I just need a distraction. She smiles through her bleached blond hair.

“Willingly,” she purrs as she takes my hand. I down my drink and stand, allowing her to guide me towards the back of the club. Stepping through the doors, she leads me to one of the rooms. The moment we’re inside, I unbutton my pants as I push her lightly onto the bed.

She smiles, her eyes raking over me as she tugs at the buttons of my shirt and yanks them open, her eyes filling with lust as she admires my body.

I take out a condom and rip open the foil package, my eyes not leaving her. Tonight, I’ll remember her, and tomorrow, tomorrow I won’t even remember her face.

“Now be a good little whore and turn around…”

Tossing a wad of cash onto the bed beside the exhausted woman, I leave the club. Stepping into the pouring rain, the smell of the earth and the rain is a pleasant welcome after being stuck in that club for a few hours.

I get into my car and hit the road, strumming my fingers on the steering wheel. The rain keeps pouring down harder, and I glance up at the sky through the windshield.

There wasn’t supposed to be a storm tonight. The humans are pretty good with forecasts, and so am I...

Strange.

I drive through the night streets. We’re in the middle of an urban area, and in the city, no one sleeps. I’m stuck in some traffic, the hum of the engine low, and when I get the chance, I take the next exit, turning left onto a side road, hoping to get to my apartment quicker.

A horn suddenly blares, bright lights momentarily blind me, and I spot a car careening around the corner onto the narrow path, racing at a reckless speed, heading straight towards me.

I swerve violently to the side, and it zooms past me, towards a woman who has just stumbled out onto the pathway.

From the way she’s moving unevenly on her feet, she’s clearly drunk.

The sound of sirens wailing loudly as they near tells me the car probably belongs to a criminal on the run.

Time seems to slow, and I realise she isn’t going to move.

I slam my foot fully on the accelerator, zooming towards the unsuspecting woman and the out-of-control car, swinging left and forcing my car between her and the speeding car.

The other driver tries to steer, but he isn’t fast enough. Metal screeches against metal, the smell of sparks and something burning fills my nose as the car spins in the other direction before driving off.

I push open the door and rush to the woman who is clutching her head, fumbling on her feet. She almost falls backwards, and I grab hold of her clothes and pull her into my arms before her legs give way.

“Fucking insane,” I mutter, looking down at the woman in my arms. She lets out a shaky whimper, her hand fisting my jacket. Her long black waves cover her face. “You shouldn’t drink so much if you can’t handle it,” I say coldly, even though I can’t smell alcohol on her. She just smells… good.

She tries to move back and stumbles, almost falling when she gets free. I catch her by the waist, my fingers brushing her skin through the tear in her shirt, and my heart thumps as I feel the electrifying current that spreads through me the moment our skin collides.

Mate.

My heart hammers violently as a thousand emotions rush through me.

I just found my mate.

She’s shaking, and being this close, I can smell water and blood coming from her.

“Are you ok?” I ask quietly, wondering what happened to her as a surge of anger at the thought of someone hurting what’s mine rushes over me, feelings that are so foreign to me. Why do I even care about someone I have just met?

She tries to move back and stumbles. I catch her by the waist, holding her up, stiffening at the way her skin feels beneath my fingertips, that same current rushing through me again.

She tilts her head up slowly, and our eyes meet. Brilliant pink rimmed with the blackest lashes I have ever seen. Perfect brows, high cheekbones, an angled jaw, a straight, slender nose and plump, kissable lips.

She’s… fucking beautiful.

The kind of woman you want to see consumed with pleasure as you fuck her.

Her eyes burn into mine, and I can’t look away. Something in her eyes flickers before they trail over me, lingering on my lips. They suddenly feel extremely dry, and I flick my tongue over them.

“Easy there, darling, or I might get the wrong impression if you keep looking at me like that.”

Her cheeks flush, and under the dim light of the alleyway, they appear to have an almost iridescent hue. Her skin is like porcelain, flawless…

She doesn’t say anything as the blaring sound of the police sirens and the flashing lights illuminate the narrow road. She turns her head away as if the lights are too much for her.

“Do you need help getting somewhere? Because you’re clearly too fucking out of it to be out here alone,” I ask the moment they pass.

“I, no… I’ll be fine,” she murmurs. Her voice is low and melodic.

For a moment, it reminds me of the stories of women who enchant you with their songs, stories told to scare children to bed at night.

Voices as beautiful as a mystical song, as soothing as the sound of the soft waves, yet they hold the power to entice any man.

“Alright.” I let go of her only for her to sway, and then she almost collapses. I catch her as her back hits my chest. “Or not. Where do you live?”

“I was told you never tell a stranger where your house is,” she replies – a weak attempt at trying to sound normal.

“Then shall I call you a cab?”

She hesitates. “I don’t have anywhere to go; I… ran away,” she admits.

I frown as she turns to me, her eyes fluttering shut as she grips her head. Before I can reply, she suddenly collapses. I look down at her, her head has fallen backwards, her back arching, her breasts rounded perfectly against her soaking wet shirt. She fits so perfectly against me.

My own emotions are a storm. I never wanted to find my mate. Never wanted to have a weakness. Part of me wants to leave her here, knowing that if I accept her, it will change everything, for better or more likely, for worse.

But looking down at the beauty in my arms, I’m unable to simply discard her. Who knows what will creep out of the darkness and take advantage of her?

With a final sweep of the narrow road, I hesitate before lifting her up and bending her over my shoulder as I carry her to the passenger side and place her in my car.

I remove my jacket, draping it over her before I get into the driver’s seat and drive towards my apartment, knowing that this decision will change everything.

Ten minutes later, I reach the parking lot of my apartment block, and I’m not about to carry an unconscious girl through the front doors.

So, lifting her out of the car, I take her around the side towards the rear of the building, where I allow my wings to erupt from my back and push off into the air, flying to my apartment, several floors upwards.

I push open the window I always leave unlocked and fly through.

Retracting my wings, I carry her through to the bedroom. She’s soaking wet, but she’s not shivering.

That’s good at least, otherwise she’ll get sick.

Should I undress her?

I hesitate for a moment; it’s not like I haven’t seen a naked woman before.

I’ve seen plenty in my hundred and thirty-five years of life.

Resting a knee on the bed, I look down at her.

The thin fabric of her torn shirt clings to her form, semi-transparent due to the rain.

My cock twitches at the way her stiff pink nipples press against the white fabric, and I can see she’s not wearing any underwear…

Fuck.

I avert my gaze, my eyes instead dipping to her sexy thighs. Despite her tiny waist and slender arms, she has well-rounded hips and curvaceous legs. Perfect to hold on to as I fuck her into ruin.

“Fuck, Kai, focus,” I mutter, untying the makeshift belt, about to yank it open when I spot the deep cut across her leg.

How did she get this?

It’s still bleeding, and it’s deep; it looks like it needs stitching.

I get up quickly and rush to the bathroom to grab my first aid kit and two towels, placing one towel beneath her bloody leg and draping the other over her body to keep her modesty.

I return to the bathroom, rinse a towel and take it back to clean the wound.

I can’t tell what caused the wound, but it’s deep and runs down her leg, at least a foot long.

Was she attacked?

I wipe the dirt and blood from her leg, and when my fingers brush her skin, a delicious tingle dances up my arm. She tenses in her sleep, and I pause, glancing up at her. She relaxes after a moment, and I finish cleaning her wound, trying not to touch her before bandaging it up tightly.

Looking over at her, I frown. Initially, I assumed she was human, but something about her tells me she isn’t. Then what is she? She’s not a sky siren, of that I am certain. She must be wearing a glamour, but I have no idea what she is. Maybe fae?

I sigh softly.

She’s my mate. I have a mate, and of all places, she was here in Varindor.

Unease fills me, and I turn away, not wanting to ponder on it right now.

I sit her up, pull on the shirt she’s wearing and slide it off over her head. My gaze falls to the side of her breasts, perfect, large, rounded breasts. I’m sure they feel even better than they look. I smirk as I pull the bed sheet over her fully. Her hair is pure black with pink highlights.

I’ve only been here for just over a week.

I needed a break from my father and time to think over the King’s offer.

I am the eldest son of Duke Izard of House Kaldor in a world where sky sirens reign supreme.

I am Izard’s illegitimate son, just like my brother Jorah.

We were born from affairs he had despite being married.

His Duchess had several miscarriages, and when she finally did give birth, she was only able to bear him two daughters.

So, since we were his only male heirs, he trained us.

Brutally and harshly, shaping us into the perfect weapons until he could proudly show us off as the symbols of House Kaldor’s strength and power, despite the fact that we are reminders of his betrayal to his Duchess.

I tolerated everything, even when he told me I was to be the heir of his dukedom, something that meant I would have to give up all my dreams. I prefer fighting on the front lines as Commander of the King’s Western Army.

But once I am the Duke, it means my dreams will have to take a backseat, and I will have to focus on the responsibilities as Duke.

King Varkhazan reigns over three realms, each of which can be accessed through a veil on Earth. But it is his latest command that doesn’t sit right with me.

My blood boils just thinking about it, and my brows furrow as I try not to slam the wardrobe shut as I turn and place the shirt I had taken out for her at the end of the bed.

Once I’ve washed and changed, pulling on some sweatpants and a shirt, I toss my wet pants in the washing hamper and bin the shirt I shredded when I shifted.

Lighting a cigarette, I drop onto the armchair beside the hearth and rest my head back, taking a long, slow drag before blowing the smoke out slowly.

My gaze keeps flitting to the bed, to my mate…

What does this mean for me, for what Varkhazan wants, for everything…?

I have enough on my plate without a mate, who is clearly in some trouble, to distract me.

Hearing a soft groan, my head snaps to the bed. She gasps as she jolts upright, her breasts bouncing. Nice.

She gasps and clutches the bedding to her as she realises she’s naked. Her eyes dart around the room, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as her eyes land on me.

“So, do you often faint and allow random men to carry you to their beds, or is that all part of the plan before you rob and murder them?” I remark.

Can she sense the bond?

Her eyes widen before she attempts a smirk. “Well, seems you figured me out, and I thought you might see me as just another beautiful, lonely girl.”

I mask my amusement, loving her spark of confidence.

I do see her beauty, but I’m not about to compliment her.

“Hmm, busted,” I say, looking at her. “You said you ran away? From whom?”

Her smile vanishes, and she looks down. “Yeah, I had no other option. Don’t worry, I’ll leave…” She glances at the window where the rain is hammering against it. “But can I stay the night?” she asks softly.

I stand up and walk over to her. “What do I get in return?”

“What do you want?” she asks, her eyes now fixed on me, wide as she looks me over, and this time, I see a glimmer of fear in them, most likely intimidated.

“What do you think I want?”

“I… I don’t know…”

My eyes rake over her, noticing how her heart races even quicker before she swallows, and I smirk. “There are plenty of ways, but none will help you leave that bed… and since I’m in a good mood, how about you join me for dinner?”

“Dinner?” she asks. I nod.

“Yeah. If you want to take a shower, feel free to do so. I’ll order us some food.”

I turn, about to leave the room, when I pause. “What’s your name?”

She stares at me with those large eyes before she answers. “S-Siralaine.”

How does a simple word sound so fucking good from those lips?