“Do not let it be said that I cannot be kind. You want your time? I’m giving it to you. Remember that, dearest.”

“I will,” I say in what I hope is an encouraging tone. I will say anything to get away from this man now.

“You will, of course, wish to move your crew to a location where you think I can’t find you. Don’t bother. You’re always being watched.”

I spin in place. “Do not have your undead follow me.”

“I will do as I wish.”

I turn back around. Take another step toward the exit.

But he speaks again, and I wonder if I will ever make it out of this stone prison.

“As a further show of good faith and my devotion to you, I have a present for you. You’ll find it on your way back to camp.”

“What will I find?” I ask.

“Go before I change my mind.”

I leave, slowly at first, but once I clear the stone shelter, I take off at a run. My muscles are still sore from days of misuse, but they’re about to loosen up from the workout I intend to put them through.

It was too much to hope that he wouldn’t send his undead to follow me, so I take roundabout paths, hide in the trees, move like a cat to lose anything Threydan might have tailing me. He knows where my crew is camped, but with any luck they’ve moved.

What I want—what I need—is to be alone. Truly alone where nothing and no one is watching me. I need time to think. Time to process. To understand. To plan my next move.

And I need to do it without the undead breathing down my neck.

I scale down some sort of ravine, run across a frozen stream, and race back up the next side. I try to control my breathing, in case Threydan can hear it through his undead. I’ve long suspected he can see through their eyes, but I don’t know how else he’s able to use them.

At a noise behind me, I duck into some thick bushes, scrabbling under them and holding my breath as an undead walks by, his head tilting in every direction. When he passes, I scurry out and take off toward my crew’s camp, but of course the undead are all headed that way. They’re keeping eyes on me. I can hide and duck all I like, but it’s useless. If they don’t run into me, I’ll run into them.

For once in my life, I give up being stealthy. It will get me nowhere.

The thought is terrifying.

I’m so very afraid of the turn my life has taken. I thought my ship sinking in a strange land was as bad as it could get.

How very wrong I was.

Though I miss the way my body used to be, it still reacts the way it should to strong emotions. My skin feels ready to burst from the internal pressure. From thoughts of Threydan’s hand on me to the threats he made against those I’m supposed to protect.

I’m dealing with forces far greater than I thought possible. After Alosa reconciled with her mother, I thought we were done having troubles with sirens. But of course there is more than one charm in the world. Just as there is more than one school of fish or community of humans.

These northern sirens have caused quite a fuss, and then they left so they wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences. Not that they’re still around. Sirens live longer than humans, but not a thousand years, as far as I know. Threydan likely wants to hunt down all sirens, for they are all that pose a threat to him.

Them and Kearan, apparently.

I scoff.

He wants me to break Kearan’s heart. As if he were smitten with me. He’s made it very clear how he feels. How I gave too much credence to things he’d said and done while drunk. He’s a new man now, one who wants nothing between us. Whatever memory Threydan saw, it must have been outdated, and any protests I make or efforts to set the record straight would only appear as if I’m trying to spare Kearan because I return those feelings.

So he’s forcing me to do this.

My blood begins to boil the more I think about the King of the Undersea and all his plans for me.

I pull a dagger from the confines of my clothing and throw it at the nearest tree trunk.

Thwack.