Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“But like I said, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want,” Trent said.
Malachi looked into the cup of tea he held. Swirls of steam rose. “I have not spoken of Forathia in a long time.”
“You don’t have to now,” Trent rushed out. “I was just curious. Sorry.”
Malachi gave a slight shake of his head. “I think about him often enough. I suppose talking about him isn’t so different. And the main reason I’ve not talked about him in years is because I’ve had no one to talk to.”
“If you did want to talk, I’m happy to listen.” Trent sat forward in his chair. “But it’s up to you.”
Malachi didn’t speak for several moments. Trent thought maybe Malachi wouldn’t.
But then Malachi opened his mouth, “My mate was also a siren. He was ten years older than me. He was…” A smile tugged at his lips, but a sadness haunted his pale-blue eyes. “He made my world more joyful just by being in it.”
Malachi let out a shaky breath. “We’d swim through the ocean together. We’d sing. He had the most beautiful voice. And he had such a sense of humour. He loved to laugh. His whole face would light up when he laughed, and his whole body would shake.
“For two years, we did everything together.” Malachi blinked rapidly. “That’s all we had. Two years. It doesn’t seem fair to search for your mate, to find them, and then lose them so shortly after.”
“I’m so sorry.” Trent’s chest clenched. “How did you meet him?”
Malachi looked at him. “Do you know much about siren songs?”
“I’ve heard the myths,” Trent said. “But I’ve never been certain what the truth was.”
“Yes, well, the myths don’t really reflect the truth.”
Trent was unsurprised by that.
“Of course, I have heard the myths myself.” Malachi’s brows furrowed.
“Of people hearing a siren song, being driven mad, stealing ships, sailing them across seas, smashing them on rocks, desperate to get closer to the siren who has bewitched them. Then they throw themselves into the ocean and drown.” Malachi glanced at him.
“Is that the sort of myths you are familiar with?”
“Pretty much.” Trent gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Malachi shook his head. “Actually, I’m surprised, then, that you are willing to be around me.”
“Well…I was a little nervous when we first met.” Trent shrugged. “But you seemed nice. And you didn’t try to enthral me.” Although, he had become pretty infatuated with the siren almost from the moment they met.
“I can understand where those myths come from. You see, sirens have different songs. We learn some of the songs from our parents, our families, and other sirens. But a lot of our songs are completely our own,” Malachi explained.
“As we grow, we create those songs ourselves. Our mate song is like that.” Malachi took a sip of tea, as if collecting himself.
“At first, we just hum a few notes, not certain what the song is or where it is going. As we develop, it develops, it becomes a tune. We keep playing with it, keep singing it.”
Malachi stared into the flickering flames. “A drive inside us pushes us to keep working on our mate song. Our feelings of longing for love and a mate become stronger, and we pour those feelings into the song. Then one day, you and your mate song are ready. I was nineteen.”
That was how old Trent was now. “How did you know you were ready?”
Malachi considered. “You just feel it. I can’t really explain it other than that, I just felt that my song and I were ready to go out and find my mate. So I went to my parents. We went to a siren witch, and she cast a love spell.”
Trent had some experience with siren love spells. After all, that was what Briar had accidentally cast that had caused half his siblings to fall in love the previous year.
“The love spell was meant to give me a better chance of finding my mate quickly. So the witch cast the spell, and off I swam.” Malachi shook his head. “For three years I swam, searching for them, singing for them.”
“Three years!” Trent repeated. “That long?”
Malachi laughed. “It’s actually not that long comparatively. I have heard of one siren woman who took thirty years to find her mate.”
Trent’s mouth fell open.
“But that is not the norm. During my search, I heard other sirens singing their mate songs,” Malachi said. “But none of the songs I heard were for me.”
“How can you tell?”
Malachi didn’t speak for a moment. “They didn’t call to me. They didn’t resonate. A mate song can also be heard at a greater distance by their mate. After three years, I’d begun to think that my mate wouldn’t be found in the ocean.”
“Where else would they be?” Trent asked.
“Anywhere, really. Our mates can be anyone, not just sirens.” Malachi closed his eyes. He smiled. “And then I heard it. A siren song. The most beautiful song I’d ever heard. The tune made my entire being sing with joy. The song called to my soul. My heart raced. Before I even saw him, I knew.”
Trent leaned forward, hanging on to Malachi’s words. “What did you know?”
Malachi opened his eyes. They glistened in the firelight. “I knew in my blood that this was my mate. We swam towards each other. Both singing. Both knowing. We clutched and just held each other.” Malachi’s smile stretched wider.
A prickling unease grew inside Trent’s gut.
Malachi had truly loved Forathia. And Malachi still loved him. That was clear in how he spoke of the siren.
He will never feel like that for me.
And in that moment, Trent realised he wanted Malachi to talk of Trent with the same fondness, adoration, and love that Malachi spoke of Forathia.
Trent tried to suppress the feelings surging up inside him. He knew he was being a terrible friend. A good friend would be listening and empathising. But his insides twisted and tangled with want and yearning.
Because Forathia would always have Malachi’s love. Trent never would.
He didn’t want to replace Forathia in Malachi’s mind or anything like that. He didn’t even want to be equal to Forathia in Malachi’s affections. He just wished Malachi could care for Trent in a similar way to how he cared for Forathia.
He shouldn’t want Malachi like that. Malachi only saw him as a friend. And would only ever see him as a friend. Malachi had been clear about that.
“And that’s how we met and fell in love.” Malachi let out a soft laugh. “I know it is very fast by human standards. But that is the siren way.”
Trent forced himself to smile as his stomach roiled.
Am I falling for him?
Malachi, unaware of Trent’s inner turmoil, kept speaking, “But I can imagine how the myths of sirens came about. If our mate hears our song and they are not a siren, they might not recognise why, but they know they need to go to us.
“They will steal a boat and take it out in desperation to get to their mate. Then when they spy the siren in the water, they will fling themselves overboard, no care of the consequences. Thankfully at this point, the siren will catch them in their arms and ensure they don’t drown.”
And for a second, Trent imagined throwing himself into the water and Malachi catching him. But that would never happen. “It’s very romantic.”
“Exactly.” Malachi nodded. Then he hesitated. “But sirens do not actually believe in only one mate.”
“You don’t?” Trent had assumed they must be like werewolves with their one true mate.
Malachi shook his head. “It is widely believed that there are a handful of people who could be a siren’s mate. Who are perfectly suited for them.”
Trent frowned. “But how does that work? What if you meet one of your other mates after two of you have already come together?”
“They become a throuple.”
“Really?”
“I’ve heard of a group of five. But that’s rare,” Malachi said. “Some believe that Aylla, the goddess of the sea, gave us multiple potential mates so we could have a better chance at finding at least one of them.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Trent said slowly, although honestly it sounded confusing. Trent cleared his throat. “I’ve never heard you sing any of your siren songs.”
“No,” Malachi said, voice only just above a whisper. “I don’t sing anymore. My songs died the day Forathia did. I just…” He shook his head. “I can’t.” He got to his feet. “More tea?”
“Yes, please.”
Malachi put the kettle on the flames, back to Trent. Clearly the conversation was over.