Page 40 of When the Wicked Sing
“Where am I?” she gasped. Lifting a hand to her chest, she felt her heart beating its loud drum against her hand and willed it to calm. Her whole body throbbed, like someone had beaten her with a hammer.
“It’s okay, you’re alright,” Dax replied softly. When he brushed his thumb against her tender skin, she yanked her arm from his grip and shifted to the other side of the tub, far from his touch.
“Where are we, Dax?” she growled. Looking around again, she detected the familiar, sharp scent of arnica and traces of herbs. The space was warmly lit by a fireplace crackling on oneend of the room, casting shadows and flickering light across shelves full of jars and tiny glass bottles.
Dax lifted his hands, water dripping down his arms. “You’re in a clinic. I brought you here to heal.”
“A clinic,” she muttered softly, then lifted her eyes toward the skylight above them. The stars peeked through branches swaying above them. Her gaze drifted back down to where Dax rested his elbows against the tub, his clasped hands barely touching the water’s surface. His concerned eyes studied her, making her cross her arms protectively over her chest.
“How long have I been asleep?”
Dax regarded her carefully. “Two days.”
Two days.Mariana blinked, unable to comprehend how she’d slept that long.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Then, everything came flooding back. The dream. Celeste. The river. Her mother’s kiss.
Gripping her head, she winced. Her heart was too loud in her ears, her skin was too sensitive, her ears too tender to touch. Every part of her was in pain—as if a poisonous phantom’s touch was sliding across her body, wreaking havoc on her nerves. A whimper escaped her lips. The moment her eyes saw her reflection in the water, they began to blur with tears.
Feeling the urge to escape, Mariana dipped beneath the water, letting its warmth embrace her. When water began to fill her nose, her throat—
She shot up, coughing and clutching her neck, squeezing her burning eyes. She couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe?
She felt around her neck.
No,she thought as her eyes widened in horror.
Her gills were gone.
Taking a ragged breath, she reached out into thefoldfor her tail, but there was nothing. Her tail, her beautiful tail … it was gone.
A strangled sound escaped her throat as her mind reeled, grasping for comprehension.
“This can’t be real,” she murmured, glancing around frantically, searching for a sign that she was still in a dreamland.
“Mari,” Dax started softly, his eyes sad. “This is real.”
Mariana shook her head, groaning at a phantom pain she didn’t expect. Then it dawned on her …
“My mother did this to me,” she whispered darkly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dax’s brows lift, and she slowly looked up to peer at him through dripping lashes.
“She’s punishing me,” she said, the anger in her voice echoing through the small space. “Why, why is she punishing me?” She knew Dax didn’t have the answers but watching him struggle to form one fractured some part of her deep down.
Lifting her shaky hands, she noticed her usually sharp nails were now blunted, the skin around them splotches of dark pink and honey. She didn’t recognize the color leeching into her normally pale blue skin. The tattoos on her hands and arms were faded, but she could still make out the swirl of waves. Confusion spread through her, unable to understand whether she was still herself or someone pretending to be who she was before.
“Nothing feels right. My bodyis—”
Broken.
A darkness taut with tension and torment consumed her. She wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. Wanted to beg for forgiveness if it meant she could go back. She was a siren whose soulknewshe was a siren, and yet nothing physical said she was, not anymore.
Droplets fell from her cheeks as she cried. Sobs broke from her mouth while her shaking hands fisted her hair and her whole body began to shake.
Her mother’s kiss—her mother had done this to her.
