Chapter 13 #2

“It’s a sort of request or plea to the water, asking her to be transform for us and nourish our cold bodies with warmth.”

“Well, this is a gift beyond my imagining.” She paused. “How long will it last? Can the men enjoy it after us?”

I nodded. “I think so. I can ask the water when we are done.”

“What a magnificent kind of magick, Jessa. You should be so delighted the gods gave you such a gift.”

I smiled and nodded, turning to dip my head back and wash my hair. But I’d simply wanted to end this conversation. To not have to talk about this anymore.

My family had never expressed pride or admiration for my magick.

It didn’t matter that my sisters were also willodens.

It was my secret skill as a syrenskyn that made me an outcast in my own home—to everyone but my brother.

Even servants shook with fear around me and avoided me.

I wasn’t afforded the custom of most royal princesses—a servant to help me bathe or dress, like I’d suddenly decide to kill them out of sport or something.

Perhaps it was for the better. It taught me to be more independent, to learn to do things for myself. It was one of the reasons I had the courage to flee that awful place, to try and find a life of my own.

I’d been taught since the first moment my skin glowed and I revealed the syrenskyn markings to my mother that my magick was meant for only one purpose—to seduce and kill men.

At that moment, I had become a weapon. And while my father had no enemies in Morodon, other light fae certainly did.

He knew it would gain him a hefty marriage price in exchange for me.

Indeed, it had. Apparently, Lord Gael was a wealthy man, and he’d given my father chests of gold and jewels to gain ownership of me in marriage.

I was sure that my father had cursed me every moment of every day since I’d ran away from home months ago.

And honestly, I didn’t care. He’d never loved me.

Not like he’d loved Draydyn. Only his son was worth his time and effort.

Daughters were merely bargaining chips for gaining wealth.

That was why my fear began to escalate when Draydyn died. Draydyn was the only one who protected me. When he was gone, I knew my days were numbered. And I was right.

“I’m heading back now,” Tessa called as she stepped out of the water and onto the bank, using the absorbent blanket to dry herself and Saralyn. “I’ll need to get Saralyn close to the fire to dry off fully. Don’t be too long.”

“I won’t,” I said, wading to the farther bank, enjoying the warm rush of water on my skin.

Tessa redressed, slipping her cloak and hood on and wrapping Saralyn in her bundle. “I’m leaving you this blanket to dry off.”

“I’ll be along soon,” I assured her as she set off with Hallizel flying above them.

I needed a moment to myself. A sort of grief had taken root in my chest and I couldn’t pluck it out. It wasn’t that I’d lost my family when I left Morodon—it was that I never really had one in the first place. Only my brother. And when he was gone, I had no one.

Here, in this clan, I could see the beautiful bond of family. How it was supposed to be. And though they’d allowed me to stay—for now—I didn’t belong here either.

“She thought this a gift,” I murmured to myself on a sigh, staring down at my arm, half in and half out of the water, glowing bright, the luminescent markings pulsing with magick.

“It is certainly a gift,” said a wispy voice.

I jumped, peering into the reeds that grew on this side of the bank. Two bright green, luminous eyes—like the first leaves of spring—stared back at me from just above the water’s surface.

“Who are you?” I asked, lowering my body into the water, as if shielding my nakedness would help.

Fluidly, the naiad glided out of the reeds.

Her ears had three points rather than one, shaped like the fins of a fish.

Her butterfly-blue hair cascaded in long strands, streaming through the water.

Her body was a mesh of vibrant blues and greens, glowing with luminescent light beneath the surface of the pool.

It did not escape me that her skin bore similar markings as mine.

I’d seen them on others before, but it always shocked me to see that I shared this with naiads.

“I am Zella.”

“I am Jessamine,” I said hesitantly. I knew that naiads could be hostile, though this one seemed rather friendly.

She nodded as she circled me to one side then swam in a semicircle to the other, a fluid silky glide through the water as she observed me.

“I have met ocean naiads,” I told her, “but never a river naiad.”

The ones I had spoken to, that my father coerced me to converse with on a regular basis, were aggressive creatures in the Nemian Sea.

He would charge his guards to take me out once a week to a tiny island off our shores where the naiads were known to sunbathe.

He would demand that I speak with them in order gain their trust. I never did.

While they did speak to me, it was mostly to curse me as a land-walker who had the nerve to try to be their friend.

One of the males had threatened to kill me if I continued to invade their island home, which they’d declared was theirs when I had told them it was within my father’s realm of Morodon.

So, I had spoken to naiads many times, but they all hated me because I was the daughter of the tyrant king in the palace next to the Nemian Sea.

“That is strange. You speak our language so well. You are a pretty syrenskyn, Jessamine.”

My name echoed strangely when she said it. She finally came to a stop in the water before me. I focused on not panicking, remembering how that dryad stag had attacked me when dryads were seemingly aloof, nonviolent creatures. I wondered if she had the madness that he did.

“Thank you,” I told her.

She stood, revealing that she was taller than me, but thin and willowy. There were gills on the sides of her neck as well. Purple water lilies clung to her hair and draped down one arm. I wasn’t sure if they were for decoration or growing from her own body.

“You are a beautiful naiad,” I admitted.

Her laughter tinkled like bells. Then she sobered quickly, angling her head as she asked, “Why would you not think being a syrenskyn is a gift?”

I stared down at myself and lifted my clawed hands from the water. “I am a creature made to kill, am I not?”

“You are,” she agreed easily. “But you are also a creature made to love. A syrenskyn is given the best of a naiad’s magick. To both kill and to love. And to love is so lovely.”

She twirled in the water, her lilies glowing as if sharing her own bioluminescent light. They must be touched by her magick.

Morodon scholars believed that the syrenskyn magick came from the naiads who lived in the deep oceans, whose markings glowed with biolumescence even in broad daylight.

Of course, in the conversations I’d had with some of these naiads at my father’s insistence, none had ever confirmed if this was true though I’d asked many times.

I’d wanted to know what my magick was for, if its only purpose was to kill.

If I was created only to harm others. And here was this young river naiad telling me so easily what I’d always yearned to know.

“I don’t understand.” I flicked my tongue over a fang. “These,” I pointed to them, “and these,” I raised my hands, curling my clawed fingers, “are for killing.”

Her green brow pinched with confusion as she lowered herself back into the water and began to swim again, the steam rising in her wake.

“That is a lie, pretty syrenskyn. The claws are for your enemy.” She pointed one of her webbed fingers at my hands as I lowered them back into the water. “But your bite is for your lover.”

I scoffed at that. “What are you talking about? The venom in my bite would kill them.”

Even now, I tasted the sweet, sticky substance dripping from one fang. It didn’t harm me, because it was made from my own body, my magick.

“Whoever told you this is a liar,” she said, her voice echoing over the water with ethereal energy.

“It is not venom in your bite, silly. It is a pleasure toxin. Your lovers will die at your feet with pleasure.” She grinned salaciously.

“The venom is in your claws. That,” her eyes flared an eerie green, “is for your enemy. To wield both is the best kind of magick. To the have the power to take life and to give pleasure.”

She twirled in a circle again, the lilies in her hair floating on the surface of the water, while I stared, stupefied. Did she mean they’d actually die? Was this some kind of naiad trick? They were cunning creatures who liked to play with humans. But she seemed…sincere.

“You have the power to vanquish enemies.” She swam closer, stopping within inches of me, staring with those otherworldly eyes. “And you can intoxicate a lover,” she whispered, grinning and revealing her pointy, sharp teeth. “He will never leave you when you bite him.”

She flipped backwards in the water, diving beneath the surface. Her luminescent glow faded as she swam toward the reeds.

“Where are you going?” I called, straightening out of the water, which lapped at my waist. “I have more questions!”

“Never,” was her echoing reply, no sign of her at all now.

I realized she was repeating the fact that my lover would never leave me.

Did that mean I could force another’s will, hypnotize him so he had no choice but to stay with me?

That sounded completely awful. I would simply never bite anyone.

That would solve that problem. So being a syrenskyn was a curse.

To kill or force a male to love me. How could that be a gift?

“You have many secrets, princess.”

I startled and sank down to my neck, turning toward the deep, velvety voice at my back. Redvyr stood in the shadows, arms crossed, leaning back against a tree.

“How long have you been there?” I asked.

“What were you saying to her?” he replied with a question.

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