Read Online Siren's Song by Mary Weber - Free Book Online Page A

back at Adora’s, you would’ve run.”
    â€œI would not have run. I—”
    He stares at me.
    â€œOkay, fine. If I’d believed you. But your trust problems notwithstanding, the fact that you didn’t tell me—”
    His tone edges cold. “Tell you what? That your parents weren’t really your parents and your royal blood makes you a final pawn in a madman’s game? Not perhaps the best use of time while trying to earn a terrified girl’s trust—particularly one whose emotions call down lightning on anyone who infuriates her.”
    â€œBut neither was withholding it.”
    His expression narrows as he shifts against the bed. “In that case, I pray you’ll forgive me for being an unbearably selfish person. Because I can say with all confidence you never would have trusted me, let alone spoken another word to me, if I’d told you then.” His jaw flexes before he looks away and murmurs, “And that was something I was wholly unwilling to induce.”
    Whatever my next words were going to be, they’re shoved aside as his gaze slips self-consciously onto my lips, then my torn clothing and hands. He couldn’t bear me not speaking to him?
    I swallow.
    â€œBesides, it’s not something either of us needs to worry about. I won’t let Draewulf near you. And if there comes a more suitable time when you’d like to investigate your heritage, I will try to help as much as I’m able.”
    â€œI’m not sure you or I will have much control over how near Draewulf gets to us. But . . . thanks.” I brush my fingers against my dress only to find them met by a light scratching in the veins of my wrist.
    As if to remind me it’s still there.
    The poison. Diminished now by the Elemental song that’s reclaimed my blood, but the dark power I ingested still exists too.
    He frowns and leans forward so he’s looking straight at me. “How are you? The rest of you—since the other abilities and the Keep and . . . Colin.” He tips his chin back just enough to truly examine my eyes.
    I open my mouth to tell him that it’s fine—that everything’s fine now and I am fine too, but the grief that suddenly creases his softening green eyes stops me. And reminds me that we both feel it. I blink quickly, and he gives a single nod that says he hates the loss as much as I do.
    His gaze falls and I scrutinize it, scrutinize his sallowing skin as I step away from the window. “I’d say I’m still better than you, I suspect.”
    He chuckles. “I’m all right.” But something in that rich tone suggests he is lying. He’s not all right. He’s not been since Draewulf.
    I slip over to drop beside him and touch his chest through his bloody shirt, feel for the bones covering his heart. “And this? How is it?”
    His large fingers slide over my deformed ones and hold them in place on his chest. Even as I catch his glance toward the bed where Lady Isobel was splayed out only hours ago.
    I don’t know if it’s the fact that Eogan spent so many years without the ability to feel for anyone but her or that he spent them in the throes of passion with her that makes me cringe more.
    â€œNymia,” Eogan whispers.
    I shake off that woman’s presence as he presses my hand harder beneath his, as if to make me read his feelings aloud here and claim them forever. As if I could know how else to fix him internally along with his weakened body. I swallow back a choked sadness. For him. For me.
    A heavy raindrop hits the roof.
    It’s followed by another, then another, as the drizzle turns to a downpour, lending to the weight of the atmosphere and magnifying it—matching his heartpulse that is picking up beneath his hand he’s just slid beneath my chin. He lifts my face until my eyes meet his and allows me to see his soul for a brief moment. As if to declare it now beats fresh and