Chapter 2
Syrena
Syrena overlooked Maerinys as the sun bathed their shores in a warm golden light for the first time in centuries.
The view was breathtaking. The towers glistened, and the ancient streets were washed clean by the sea as life returned to a place that had long been nothing but bones and ruin.
It was both everything she dreamt of and everything she planned.
And yet, as Syrena stood there, she felt nothing but rage.
Esmyra had done this. All by her fucking self.
The twin who had been lost to time, wandering the surface world, blind to the power running through her veins. The twin who hadn’t planned for this, who hadn’t sacrificed nor bled for it. And yet, in the end, she had been the one to bring the kingdom back.
Syrena’s hands balled into fists, her nails digging into her palms as her fingers wrapped around the rail.
It should’ve been her.
For years, she had worked in the shadows of the depths, weaving together the remnants of a lost empire.
She had convinced the people to wait—to believe she could one day restore them to their former glory.
After she survived the gods’ betrayal, it had given them hope.
Her subjects raised her to be their queen, following and worshiping her, trusting her to bring them back.
And yet, the moment Maerinys breached the surface, all eyes had turned to her sister.
The way the people looked at Esmyra, the reverence in their eyes, the way they whispered miracles of Kaelypso reborn with no mention of Naerysa... It made her sick.
She wouldn’t be cast aside. Not again.
Never again.
Esmyra had no desire to rule, and that was fine—perfect, even. Syrena didn’t need her to want power, she only needed her sister to wield it when commanded, buying more time to complete her and Azarian’s plan.
But more than that, it would allow Syrena to control her. Because there was something else beneath Syrena’s jealousy. Something she hadn’t spoken aloud, even to herself.
Fear.
Esmyra had wielded a power beyond comprehension. If she could do that, what else was she capable of?
The weight of divinity pressed against her ribs, filling her chest until it was hard to breathe. Before the merging, Naerysa was always something Syrena could feel within her, like a darkness leeching off her.
When she was young, a constant fear whispered at the edges of her mind, but once Azarian told her the truth of it all, pride swelled in her veins.
To learn she had been chosen as the goddess’s vessel became terror wrapped in glory.
Her body was no longer wholly her own and carried a power older than every empire.
Syrena was the chosen vessel of Naerysa’s soul, and she considered it the greatest of honors and sacrifices.
The goddess had looked into the endless sea of mortals and found her worthy. Her. Syrena Aeress. She didn’t see it as a curse like Esmyra did, but as a purpose. And that purpose was what drove her.
And she would do anything—give anything—for her goddess’s approval.
“You’ve done well, my pet,” Naerysa purred in her mind.
Chills ran along Syrena’s spine; she wasn’t used to the goddess being able to freely speak to her. It was as if the merging had unlocked a cage, and now she was seeing through her eyes while listening to her thoughts.
Naerysa’s memories and desires had woven themselves into Syrena’s very soul, merging with her own. Nine centuries ago, the goddess within her wished to destroy her twin by absorbing her power. She might have succeeded too, if the other gods of Rymelle hadn’t intervened, murdering them both.
Kaelypso was a fierce storm, stemming from the trenches of the depths. She contained a more brutal power than Naerysa. Not only that, but she gained the love of the only man Naerysa ever desired: Irah, the God of Rage and War.
And now history was repeating itself in their new forms. Draevyn, a mortal blessed with Irah’s flames, had fallen for Esmyra. He was a prince for fuck’s sake, and he was in love with a vicious pirate, having no interest in a queen.
“Even in this lifetime, Kaelypso has everything,” Naerysa hissed. “We will not suffer as we did before. They must be destroyed.”
Syrena’s jaw ticked, her teeth aching from the pressure as memories of both lifetimes swarmed her. Kaelypso had everything Naerysa didn’t, just as Esmyra was able to roam freely for centuries, while Syrena was bound to the ocean’s floor.
For now, she would smile while offering honeyed words, but in the end, she would do what needed to be done. This kingdom was hers, and she wouldn’t let anyone take it from her.
Soft footsteps sounded from behind as a pulsating magic sizzled at her back. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Esmyra.
“You’ve made it beautiful again,” Syrena said without turning to face her. “The people owe you everything. I owe you everything.” The last few words were a whisper that tasted wretched on her tongue.
“I didn’t do it alone,” Esmyra admitted, and Syrena suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
She had done it alone. Regardless of the fact that Syrena couldn’t unlock their cursed bones without Esmyra, she knew she didn’t possess that raw power herself.
When she said nothing, Esmyra continued, “I never would’ve been able to if you hadn’t released our power. The kingdom is yours. I have no desire to rule it.”
Syrena’s lips curved into a sharp smile, but she kept her face turned away, hiding the flicker of jealousy she knew would surely show in her eyes.
Her tone was laced with faux sincerity when she said, “And yet, they already look to you as their leader.” She turned then, a softer smile falling into place.
“You’re their queen.” There was a sharpened edge to Esmyra’s voice as she stepped closer. “This isn’t what I want.”
An idea struck her then.
Syrena reached out and clasped Esmyra’s arm, the gesture deceptively warm. “If you won’t take the crown, then take another role.”
Esmyra blinked. “And what might that be?”
The truth was, Syrena had no intention of sharing her throne—had no intention of sharing anything ever again. And until she could claim Esmyra’s powers as her own, combining Naerysa and Kaelypso into one all-powerful being, she needed to keep her occupied.
And preferably out of sight.
“How would you feel about being the kingdom’s emissary?
Now that we’re back with the rest of the realm, it would be good to have a spy.
” Syrena knew Esmyra had one thing on her mind, and that was to destroy the Rowes.
And if she could make it look like she supported Esmyra in that, it would give her the space needed to act.
“Who else could I trust to learn the realm’s secrets and to keep Maerinys safe? ”
Esmyra’s lips pressed together in a grimace. “Syrena, I—”
“I know your heart lies with your need for revenge,” Syrena cut her off.
“Well, Sister, if you have no desire to rule what’s ours and wish to leave the kingdom to me, then I ask this of you.
Get the vengeance you seek. You have my blessing, even if it’s to honor the vile man you call Father, who stole you from me in the first place. ”
The veins in Esmyra’s neck strained, but she nodded. “If that’s what you need, I’ll do it. But I won’t apologize for what I feel for the man who raised me. Until you, he was the only family I had. The only home I had.”
“And Maerinys is your home now, is it not?” Syrena gestured to the sea beyond the city. “I don’t see any ships on the horizon searching for you, Esmyra. Your loyal crew likely fought over the position of Captain the moment you fell off that ledge.”
Hurt flashed across Esmyra’s face, but it was there and gone in only a moment. Her jaw ticked, the silver hair of Kaelypso flowing around her in the wind. “Aye.”
Syrena suppressed her grin. “Good. Together, we’ll be unstoppable. What better way to protect our people and legacy than by having me here and you beyond our tides? Eliminating our enemies.”
In answer, Esmyra shifted from her goddess form, her body transforming into her mortal guise.
Swirling silvery-blue tattoos stilled and morphed back into their crimson runes.
Her hair turned the color of the midnight sky, gliding from the teal roots to its silver ends.
All that remained was her glacial blue gaze.
And within the blink of an eye, Esmyra appeared as she had for the last several centuries—a pirate.
Syrena cackled softly. “You can take any form you wish now, and you choose this of all things.” She gestured to her body.
A smirk curved the edge of Esmyra’s lips, a violent calm emanating from her. “When Draevyn looks death in the eye, I want him to know I came for everything he stole from me.”
Her eyes drifted over Syrena’s shoulder, gazing North, toward the Kingdom of Lephyrin. “And then I’ll rip his heart from his chest. Draevyn will be put to an end, but not before he suffers all he made me endure.”
Oh, you foolish girl. If only she knew how hard Draevyn fought for her. And the best part was, Esmyra would never give him the chance to explain himself. Her impulsiveness and need for revenge were too great. Syrena knew she would strike recklessly before he ever got the chance to open his mouth.
Syrena nodded as she turned back to the balcony, making sure her face remained serene as Esmyra lingered. But beneath the calm exterior, her thoughts churned with envy, anxious for her plan to fall into place.
After Syrena compelled Draevyn to kiss her, making him think she was Esmyra, she maimed his face before banishing him from the kingdom. Her plan had worked, isolating Esmyra from him before they could speak to further sink her talons in.
She had anticipated and planned it all, including her sister’s rage. What she had not prepared for, however, was Kaelypso to still be more powerful than Naerysa in their newly bound forms.
Syrena studied that power for centuries, and yet Esmyra channeled it as if it never left her.
And now, despite her sister’s protests, Syrena would keep her close. Not as an equal, but as a tool, until her plan could be set in motion, and she could finally finish what she set out to do nearly a millennium ago.