In the Veins of the Drowning (The Siren Mage, #1)

by Kalie Cassidy

Theodore lowered himself to his knees before me, his eye to mine, and my every thought dissipated. He was close enough for me to whisper and still be heard. My brow buckled with confusion at the gesture.

I was the woman. I was the water. I was the monster.

“I will not live another life like my last, honoring the whims of a king who wishes to use me. I bent the knee to you, yes, but it will cost me nothing to denounce you and leave your kingdom with my blood still running through your veins. I will happily let our bond plague you with unending worry over my well-being until you are old and gray if you treat me like I am some palace maid to be ordered about. If you want a severance, if you want me to receive a prophecy so that I can fulfill your final condition, then I have some terms of my own you must agree to.”

Oh i like her

I have no desire to be like you—” I jabbed a finger against his chest. “To scrape myself empty for others and call it noble.”

“I know.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. With a finger under my chin, he lifted my face and wiped my cheeks dry. “Breathe.”

“I called you a gnat, and I detest myself for it. I am the bug. A moth. And you are the moon. Drawing me, pulling me. But I’ll never be able to reach you without destroying myself. All I can do is pray for the day.” He gave me a pleading look. “Do you understand? I am doing my very best to keep a grip on myself, to keep my distance, but everything you do seems in service of thwarting that goal.”

I shook my head in mock disappointment instead, and said, “You should have just focused on the horse.”

“I would have worshipped you,” he said, husky and slow. “Laid you out over my bed like a goddess on her altar and gotten on my knees before you. And when we were done, after a very long time…” He brought me tighter to his chest, and I all but melted into him. My nose brushed his chin. “… I’d thank you for tearing me to ribbons with those pretty talons of yours.”

“Need a hand?” “Lay a hand on my wife and you’ll lose it.” Theodore gripped the hilt of the dagger.

I held my breath as he reached around for my braid. He gripped it, wrapped it once around his fist, and gave it the softest tug. It tipped my chin up, baring my neck to him. He made a throaty, approving sound as he looked from my lips to my neck and down further.

Losing my everloving mind

He spoke softly now, with awe in his voice, in his gaze, as if he were uttering a prayer. “You are peerless.”

“There are no more transactions between us, remember?” he said in a husky whisper. “You’re deserving because I say you are.”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was like embers. Heat filled his palm as it skated around my hip to the bleeding spot on my stomach. When he finished closing the wound there, his hand inched up, slowly, slowly, until it rested between my breasts. Over my ragged heart. “Your wildest dreams.”

“If you are selfish”—he gave me a deep, luxurious kiss—“then I am a gluttonous, greed-riddled fiend for how badly I want you.”

But if you are to devastate me, then let it be completely. Lay waste to me and everything that’s mine. A life without you in it is not one I wish to lead.”

“You’re very beautiful.” His voice was a quiet rumble. “You’re very foolish.”

My duty, my desire—they have become one entity. They are both unquestionably tied to you. The absence of you has shown me that, if you will let me, I will happily carve myself open again and pour you back inside me.

“In the wake of the ruined, when the spirit rends, mend and loop and seal. In the veins of the drowning, when blood fills the throat, clear and wash and heal.”