Page 75 of When the Wicked Sing
She didn’t say anything, instead just staring at her hands in disbelief.
“Mari?”
“You need to leave now,” she ordered, her voice hollow.
“We shouldn’t end things like this. Talk to me.”
She brought her eyes up to meet his, and he saw the warning stirring within them. “You betrayed me and made a fool out of me. And for that, I will never forgive you.” Turning, she began walking into the darkness beyond an open door. “Leave, Dax. And don’t come back.”
As he watched her disappear, he resisted the urge to go after her.
With his hands clenched at his sides, he looked up at the vaulted ceiling, shrouded in the dust and shadows of the neglected palace wing.
“Godsdammit,” he muttered.
He was trapped. Neck-deep in the quicksand of his life. And the one person he thought could pull him free had just walked away, her footsteps a fading echo in the cold, dark corridors.
Chapter 40
Thelibrarywasquiet,the stillness broken only by the softthudof a book being closed. Ophelia rested the thick tome in her lap and stretched in the chair she was sitting in, her legs hanging over one of the armrests. Her gaze drifted across the room to Mariana, who sat at a wide oak table near the fireplace.
The siren’s teal braid cascaded over her shoulder, shifting slightly as she bent over the stack of books in front of her. Her long fingers moved quickly, flipping through pages with an intensity that spoke of urgency. Every now and then, she jotted something in the margins of a loose sheet of parchment, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Ophelia tilted her head, intrigued. “Find anything interesting?”
Mariana didn’t look up.
Ophelia chewed on the inside of her cheek and glanced across the room at Kosta, who was leaning against the doorframe, staring off into the distance. She wished he’d listened to her plea to stay outside. It was hard enough getting the siren to talk toher. Shifting her gaze back to Mariana, she noticed she didn’t have any gills like Astra had on her neck.
Planting her feet on the ground, she cleared her throat. “Hey, I noticed you don’t have any gills. Is that something you can make disappear like your tail or—” The words died on her lips as Mariana shot her an icy glare that sent a shiver down her spine.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized softly, averting her gaze. “I just wasn’t sure—”
Mariana shut the book with abang, startling Ophelia. Their eyes met, and immediately she could see the pain deep within, hiding beneath the dark glare.
Kosta straightened and glanced seriously between them but didn’t move from his position.
Gripping the book tightly, Ophelia asked, “What happened?” Her words were small, quiet, but she knew Mariana heard her by the way her eyes closed as she sighed.
A moment passed as Mariana clearly struggled with whatever was consuming her thoughts. Her brow was still furrowed, mouth tight. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked … heartbroken.
“My mother cast a binding spell on me. I’m no longer a siren.”
Ophelia let out a soft gasp, hands darting up to her mouth.
Mariana shrugged, like she was trying to pretend the issue was behind her, yet it clearly bothered her. “For now, at least. I think the amulet might be able to remove the spell.”
Ophelia’s hands drifted down to her lap, eyes widening. “That’s why you look so much like a fae. Because you are one now, aren’t you?”
The look Mariana gave her answered her question, but it appeared almost too painful for her to say out loud.
Why would Mariana’s mother do that to her?
Glancing down at the siren book she clutched in her hands, she began to wonder something.
Clearing her throat again, she lifted her head to find Mariana staring into the fire with glassy eyes.
“What’s it like living underwater?” she asked, hoping the change of subject might help.
