Chapter 25 #2
"It is forbidden to be here. Which is why only a select few know about this place," Maven says, taking a seat beside him.
"We are still here because someone has been stealing people from the other worlds and bringing them here, among other problems." Her voice gentles.
"Can you tell us what happened to you, Tharin? "
He clutches the mug tighter, knuckles whitening. "I was in the garden gathering vegetables. It was evening. I heard... singing." His voice breaks slightly. "The most beautiful music I'd ever heard. I followed it to the small nearby lake, and there was a woman—at least, I thought she was a woman."
My pulse quickens. "What did she look like?" I ask.
"Beautiful," he whispers. "I walked into the water toward her, and then everything went dark." He shudders. "When I woke, I was in a cage with others. Different beings from different worlds. They were... processing us."
"Processing?" Dugall asks, his voice a low rumble.
Tharin nods, a haunted look crossing his face.
"That’s what they called it. They tested our magick.
Took samples. Those with strong abilities were kept separate.
The others..." He swallows hard. "I watched them drain three dry.
Just... pulled the magick right out of them until there was nothing left. They were just cold and grey and gone."
Silence falls over the room. I exchange a glance with Cormac, whose expression has hardened into granite. This is proof that some sirens are working against us, but the real question is does Nimue know? Is the Siren Queen herself compromised??
"And the siren who took you," Maven prompts gently. "Did you see her again? Do you know her name?"
Tharin shakes his head. "She wasn't the only one. They would sing to keep us calm. We couldn’t fight back." His voice drops to a whisper. "I never heard their names."
"Nimue would never allow this," Nari says from across the room. “Never.”
"This changes everything," Dugall says, his deep voice cutting through the rising tension. "If the sirens are involved with our enemies—"
"We don't know which ones are, just like they don’t know who works with us," Maven interrupts. "It has to be a few outsiders."
"Or they could be forced," Nari suggests. "Blackmailed somehow."
"Either way, we need to contact Avalon immediately," Cormac says. “King Stormblood needs to know.”
My wolf paces frantically beneath my skin. Go. Now. Protect mate. For once, I don't disagree with its demands. I have to go.
"I agree, but," Dugall counters. "We have to only tell King Stormblood that there are sirens working with the Enclave. We can’t tip our hand to Nimue."
"She would never," Maven argues. "She needs to know too!"
Cormac shakes his head. “We can’t chance that the Queen of Sirens has been compromised. There could be spies around her.”
I grip the edge of the table hard enough that the wood creaks beneath my fingers.
Their paranoia isn't entirely misplaced, but it's wasting precious time.
Nimue has good reason to be faithful to the rebellion, but I've lived long enough to know that even the most steadfast can fall with the proper motivation.
The argument escalates, voices rising as theories and accusations fly across the room. Tharin shrinks further into his chair, clearly overwhelmed by the conflict. Maven hands him a fresh cup of tea and he visibly relaxes a little.
My thoughts turn back to Astrid—alone, unknowingly surrounded by a network far more dangerous than she realizes. My wolf paces faster, more frantic. Go. Now. My wolf keeps insisting.
While the others continue their heated debate, I catch Cormac's eye across the room. Something in my expression must convey my intention, because he gives me a slight, almost imperceptible nod before turning back to the argument.
I slip out quietly, moving through the kitchen where Thistle and the other brownies are stress-baking, flour dust hanging in the air like snow. Astrid's car keys hang on the small hook by the back door where Cormac placed them. I take them and step out into the cool night air.
The path to the lake shimmers silver in the moonlight. I move silently, away from the heated debate still raging in the ranch house. My decision is made. My path is clear.
At the water's edge, I remove the silver ring from my pocket and kneel, touching the surface. The water ripples beneath my fingers. "I need passage back," I say quietly.
Silence stretches for several heartbeats before a familiar face emerges from the depths. Maris, her midnight hair floating around her like a dark halo, her opalescent skin gleaming in the moonlight.
Recognition flashes in her color-shifting eyes as she studies me. "Knight of the Round Table," she acknowledges, her voice carrying that ethereal quality unique to sirens. "You seek to return so soon?"
"I left something important behind," I tell her, the understatement of the century. "I need to return to the pond where we left the car."
Her head tilts slightly, those ancient eyes seeing more than I'd like. "The human woman," she says, not a question.
I stiffen, instantly alert. "How do you know about her?"
Maris's lips curve into something too knowing to be a smile. "Your scent carries her essence. And I can see the tether that connects you—it stretches thin, pulling you back toward the city."
“The brownies said they could see something similar.”
She nods. “It is the same.”
"Will you take me back?" I press.
She extends her hand from the water, pale fingers dripping silver in the moonlight. I grab her hand and I’m pulled beneath the surface, the familiar sensation of being everywhere and nowhere at once enveloping me. Moments later, I'm walking up the shore of the pond.
Astrid's black sedan sits exactly where we left it.
The drive back to the city seems endless, each mile a test of patience. I grip the steering wheel the way Cormac taught me during those first weeks on Earth. The vehicle responds to my touch, though the mechanics still feel foreign after centuries of horseback and magical transport.
My thoughts circle around what we've learned, the implications building with each passing minute. If sirens are involved in the trafficking ring, then the threat is far greater than we imagined. The ancient pathways between worlds that only they can navigate have indeed been compromised.
My heart pounds with an unfamiliar rhythm—not the steady beat of a predator, but the uncertain flutter of something I haven't felt in centuries. Fear. Not for my life, but for something far more precious. Her acceptance.
When I tell her everything… About the sirens, about the true nature of the war we're fighting, about what it means to be soul-bonded to a Knight of Avalon. She might look at me with hatred in those fierce eyes. She might reject the connection that pulses between us like a second heartbeat.
The thought sends a physical pain through my chest, my wolf whining in distress at the possibility.
But partial truths have only endangered her further. Without knowing what truly hunts in the shadows, she walks blind into traps she can't see. I'd rather lose her trust than lose her life.
I park her car in its designated spot and approach the building, scanning the windows until I find hers. It's still dark.
The knot in my stomach tightens. I have no right to expect her understanding. No right to hope that when she knows it all, she might still choose me, choose us.
Yet I do.
Also, I will kill Cormac if she doesn’t make it back.
I use her keys to open her door and slip inside. Then hang them on the hook just to the right. A handmade quilt is draped over the back of her couch. The lingering scent of coffee and gun oil hang in the air like old friends.
I settle into a chair facing the door, where she'll see me immediately upon entering.
There's no point in hiding, in pretending this is anything other than the deliberate choice it is.
I've left the safety of the ranch, the consensus of my team, to be here.
To warn her, to protect her, to tell her truths that might make her hate me more than she already does.
My wolf is calm again, settled by proximity to her space and her scent. We wait together in the darkness, patient as only predators can be, for the return of the woman who belongs to us.
And when she comes, I will tell her everything.