Chapter 12 Rhyland
Rhyland
Ilean back, nursing my drink. A smirk tugs at my lips as I replay the scene from earlier—Dani verbally bitch-slapping Izabelle, putting that jealous bitch in her place. Fuck, it was hot as hell watching my girl assert herself like that, all fiery confidence and take-no-shit attitude.
Not that I'm surprised. Dani throws off sex appeal like it's breathing.
She's got curves that could make a grown man weep and a confidence that's sexy as sin.
But it's not just her body that gets me going—it's her mind that floors me.
The way she picked up on poker like it was nothing, wiping the deck with seasoned players despite never having played before.
That analytical brain of hers, always working, always cracking shit and solving puzzles. .. It's sexy as hell.
The memory of her jealousy still echoes in my mind. Seeing her all fired up over that redheaded barmaid was a thing of beauty. It's a sign that our bond is growing stronger—she's feeling it with every fiber of her being.
I had no problem reassuring her, no hesitation in reminding her that she's the only one I see, the only one I crave. She's all I want, all I can think about. Every fiber of my being is attuned to her; every beat of my heart is in sync with hers.
Dani's not usually the jealous type. She's too confident, too self-assured to let something like that get under her skin. But this bond between us, this unbreakable tie that binds our souls together... it's going to intensify everything she feels, everything she is.
She will be even more possessive and fiercely protective of what's hers. And fuck, if that doesn't just light a fire in my veins.
My fierce, fearless Angel claimed me, body and soul. And I've claimed her right back. We belong to each other, now and forever. And anyone who tries to come between us... Well, let's just say they'll learn the hard way what happens when you fuck with a man's mate.
Erik grunts from his seat to my left. "I'm curious, brother... what of this Siren's Lyre? Aren't Merfolk Sirens?"
Erik never stops analyzing and looking for angles others might miss. He's got a tactical mind that won't quit, always working to identify potential threats and figure out how to neutralize them.
It's like he's got a supercomputer in his head, constantly processing data and spitting out strategies. He sees patterns and connections that the rest of us couldn't hope to grasp, and he uses that knowledge to stay one step ahead of the game.
I pause, considering the question. The book didn't describe the Merfolk that way but mentioned Sirens. Curiosity piqued, I turn to Captain Gideon, who's busy laughing and bantering with his crew.
"Gideon," I call out, waiting for him to look up from his rum. "What of Sirens? Do they exist?"
The captain takes a swig, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Aye, they do, lad. The Merfolk have been at odds with 'em for centuries—the Sirens, also known as Water Nymphs."
Well, fuck me sideways. Water Nymphs? This just keeps getting better. I raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. "So what's the story there?"
Gideon chuckles, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Ye ever heard tales of sailors being lured to their doom by a pretty face and a sweet song? That be the Sirens' doing, mate."
He takes another gulp of rum, savoring the burn.
"Ye see, these Water Nymphs, they be sexual creatures, blessed by Poseidon himself with the power to trap men's minds and hearts.
They sing, and the poor bastards are powerless to resist, followin' blindly to their watery graves, grinnin' like fools the whole way. "
I feel a shiver run down my spine at his words. Mind control and sex appeal? Sounds like a damn dangerous combination.
The captain leans back, his expression turning sly.
"Legend has it that a single kiss from a Siren can make ye forget yer own name, make ye willing to do anything, be anything they desire.
They'll lure ye into the water with promises of pleasure beyond yer wildest dreams..
. and once they have ye, well. Let's just say there ain't no coming back from that, lad. "
I whistle lowly, my mind reeling with the implications. "So what, they're like some kind of sex demons?"
Gideon laughs, loud and booming. "Aye, in a manner of speaking. But make no mistake, mate—they're dangerous. Many a sailor has met his end in the arms of a Siren, too lost in lust to realize he's drowning."
He shakes his head, a hint of warning in his eyes.
"The Merfolk, they see the Sirens as a threat, a blight on their kind.
They've been trying to wipe 'em out for generations to protect the innocent from falling prey to their wiles.
But the Sirens, they're a wily bunch. Always seem to find a way to survive, to keep on seducing poor bastards to their doom. "
I sit back, my mind reeling. Fucking hell. As if this quest wasn't complicated enough already, now we've got to worry about supernatural seductresses trying to sex us to death?
"So what do we do?" I ask, looking between Erik and Gideon. "How do we fight something like that?"
The Captain shrugs, his expression grim. "Ye don't, lad. Best ye can hope for is to avoid 'em altogether. Stick to the shallows, steer clear of their huntin' grounds."
I glance at Erik, seeing my concern mirrored in his steely gaze. We're going to have to be on our guard every fucking second if we want to make it out of this realm with our souls intact.
But then again, I think with a smirk, if anyone can resist the wiles of a Siren, it's me. After all, I've already got the most desirable woman in the world warming my dick. What's a water nymph compared to my Angel?
I shift in my seat, my pants suddenly feeling too tight.
Down boy, I mentally berate my eager cock. Now's not the time for a fucking boner.
Still, as Gideon launches into another bawdy tale of sailors falling prey to the Sirens' charms, I can't shake the feeling that we're in for one hell of a ride.
And not necessarily the fun kind—
The tavern doors slam open, and every head in the place snaps around to see who's ballsy enough to make an entrance like that. And holy shit, the man who strides in is enough to answer that question.
This guy's got an aura like a goddamn thunderstorm, all dark and menacing like he's about to rain down lightning and destruction on anyone who looks at him wrong.
He's built like a fucking tank, all bulging muscles and violence, with shoulder-length red hair that makes him look like some deranged Viking berserker.
And his eyes... those eyes are sharp and calculating, sweeping over the room like he's sizing up his next meal. Like he's just daring someone, anyone, to step up and challenge him so that he can rip their fucking head off and use it as a goddamn soup bowl.
The whole place goes silent as the grave the moment he walks in, everyone frozen in place like mice caught in a serpent's gaze. You can practically hear the collective intake of breath, the sheer terror that ripples through the crowd at the sight of this beast of a man.
I swear, the guy looks like he eats children for breakfast and picks his teeth with their tiny bones. Like he'd snap your neck as soon as he looks at you and then return to chugging his ale like nothing happened.
"Gideon," he booms, his voice carrying an edge of malicious delight. "How long has it been?"
I glance over at the Captain; hell, he looks like he's about to blow a blood vessel. Anger is etched into his face, and he's gripping his mug so tight I'm surprised it hasn't shattered.
"Bloodbane," he says through clenched teeth.
This is not a man to be fucked with, that's for damn sure. Not unless you want to end up as a red smear on the tavern floor, your last memory, the sound of his laughter as he grinds your skull beneath his boot.
He starts moving towards our table, the crowd parting like the Red Sea. Izabelle jumps up to block his path, all bristling defiance and bared teeth.
"What the hell do you want?" she snarls, staring at the man like another barroom brawler. "That's far enough. You know the rules; you can't touch us here—this is common land."
"Enough, Izabelle," Gideon snaps, his voice cracking with tension. "Stay out of this."
Bloodbane smirks, eyeing Izabelle like she is an annoying gnat to be swatted aside.
The rest of the pirates at our table don't need to be told twice.
They scatter like cockroaches, tripping over each other in their haste to get clear, leaving just me, Erik, and Gideon to face the scrutiny of this asshole.
Bloodbane's gaze lands on me and Erik, and I meet it head-on, refusing to be cowed by this overgrown bastard. There's something in his blood-red eyes, a hunger beyond mere bloodlust or battle-fury. It's like he can see straight into my fucking soul—like he knows something I don't.
"I was sent here by the Sea Witch—word travels fast in Aquaria," he drawls, his tone full of malice. "Something..." he sniffs the air in my direction, "smells...different."
Beside me, Erik's wound tighter than a fucking spring, his muscles locked and ready for action. I can feel the power rolling off him in waves, barely held in check by sheer force of will.
"And she has a right to know who enters her realm," Bloodbane continues, his gaze never leaving ours.
Well, fuck. It's clear as day that this asshole is in the Sea Witch's pocket. And it's equally clear that she's caught wind of our presence here.
Gideon clears his throat, trying to draw Bloodbane's attention. "What ye be on about, Bloodbane?"
But the red-haired bastard ignores him completely, focusing solely on me and Erik. As he stalks closer, I catch a whiff of his scent—brine and blood and something sharper, like the crackle of ozone before a storm.
"Can't say I've ever seen the likes of ye two," he muses, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me, with who do you sail?"