Siren - Hazel Grace Page 0,39

letting a giant man roam the island to do hell knows what, but I have to try. I have to try to see if he’ll speak to me. If he’s here for a heinous reason or for just what he had said—to learn the land for his people to take. He never had to say that, it sounded bad enough, but he did.

And I can’t help but want to believe him on that part.

Which poses more questions on what would he do if I did let him go. Would my sisters be safe here? When I woke up one morning, would there be ships surrounding the island to overtake it?

Each scenario, the same fear resided in each—my sisters, father, my people, and I would be at the mercy of humans.

Dagen excused himself early, and I followed shortly after but not after him, quite the opposite. I came to the small little place on the island that is completely mine.

My secluded little cove.

Where I keep and collect all my treasures along with Mother’s diaries and the item that she left behind.

Her golden cuffs.

Well, one of them anyway. The second hasn’t been found, which worries my father and sisters more than anything because it holds the power of the sea, the queen’s side of the kingdom. With it in the wrong hands, it would shift the elements. It would mean my father would have to defend his kingdom from the one who holds the missing cuff in order to protect what was ours. And he wasn’t as young as he used to be.

Stepping into the darkened cove made of hollowed rock, I follow the light that sparks from my torch. Nothing but silence and my footsteps greet me as I walk deeper into the cool space. The place where everything that means anything is, for the most part.

The moment I make another turn inside, the moon lights up the room from a small hole in the ceiling overhead. I light the stationed torches that I already have here, watching my golden trinkets glimmer. The mountains of books that haven’t made it to my bookshelf in the castle stacked up all over along with the human items that Tobias brings back for me are all put in a specific place.

No one comes here but me.

No one is allowed or even knows about it. It’s the only spot in the world that completely and utterly belongs to me.

“Nice place you have.” I jolt, my hand immediately going for the first thing I can reach as I spin around to throw the item at my intruder.

Dagen blocks the trinket and continues to stand there like he has any right to be in my space right now.

“What are you doing here?” I snap. “Get out.”

He ignores me, admiring everything cluttered and organized throughout the space. He makes it feel smaller with his considerable frame as he scrutinizes the area.

“That means get out.”

“I will,” he alludes slowly. “I just wanted to see where you disappeared to.”

“It doesn’t matter where I go. This is my home.”

“Unfortunately, I know that too.” He takes another step forward. “This is all...beautiful.”

“I don’t want you here,” I chide. He looks at me then, soft and curious, almost normal.

But him and I are far from common.

He’s a warrior of the land while I’m a killer of the sea. Mind you, I don’t go off hunting like my sisters anymore because I can’t, but once in a while, I dream about it.

It’s in my blood, my nature. Killing those who hunt us down for sport runs deep within who I am. The stories and myths made us the bad species, luring men to their deaths by getting them close to the rocks or using our voices to tip sailors overboard. Decade-old Sirens used that trick for sport and entertainment, but now we have more accomplished and well-deserved prey—Hunters.

While we’ve always been a condemned species, Father said that we became who we are when Persephone was abducted by Hades. She seems to be doing just fine since she married him and rules the underworld.

Taysa’s story is that we came about by mermaids, two sisters challenging each other for a crown, and one turned into an evil monster to lure all her lovers to their deaths. Folklore, fairy tales, myths, and legends, I just think we were meant to be like everyone else.

We hunt.

We want to conquer.

We crave our own power.

“How long have you collected all of these things?” he asks, looking toward the ceiling, where

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