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

by Kalie Cassidy

I was overcome with fury and fear, but still, I could not help but notice that King Theodore was appallingly, tragically handsome.

“I’ve taken lots of lovers over the years. Women and men, all of them witty and beautiful. All better than I could ever deserve. But one letter from Agatha makes me feel more alive, more full of hope and calm and elation, than touching any of them ever did.”

“He’s very observant. And caring, when he chooses to be.” My gaze moved to Theodore of its own accord. To the even, but suddenly warm, look that had begun to fill his eyes. His arms were clasped behind his back and the sun accentuated the striking lines of his face and I felt so compelled to speak that I could not stop myself. “He’s gentle,” I blurted, eyes locked with his. “And when you feel like you’ve been whipped and thrown, if you let him, he will be an anchor.”

“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.”

“They’re so pretty,” I said softly, letting the thought slip past my lips. “They’re weeds.” “Bloody Gods.” A shot of anger rang though me. “They’re still beautiful.” He was silent as we wound away from the flowers into a green swaying field. I wished I’d held my temper, though it was not my fault that the man was a maddening, close-minded snob. Finally, and to my surprise, he leaned in close. His cheek pressed to my hair. “You’re right.” He sounded apologetic. “They are.”

“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.” Abruptly,

“I wouldn’t have torn you to ribbons,” I finally said, coyly. “I’m not that wasteful.” “Oh no?” That chuckle again. “What would you have done?” “What any Goddess worthy of devotion would.” He looked over his shoulder expectantly, heat and amusement in his gaze. “I’d have demanded you worship me a second time. And a third.” A grin spread over his face as he turned away from me. He tipped his head back toward the sky like he’d been swept into a pleasant daydream. I thought I heard a low, satisfied hum fill his chest. I spent the rest of the short ride lost in a daydream of my own.

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

“I find you rather terrifying, Imogen.” “Terrifying?” “It’s true you haven’t known me long, but somehow you know me rather well.” He was devastating, standing before me looking windblown and anguished. I wanted to touch him, to smooth the lines etched into his face.

He kissed me again. This time it was gentle, lips moving against mine painfully slowly. When he pulled away, taking my bottom lip between his as he did, he spoke in a clipped, heated whisper. “Gods, you don’t know when to shut up.”

There is a crown. Ripped, ripped, ripped from the head. There is a bond. Cut, cut, cut from the blood. The queen lies drained of her divinity. The king sits wrecked and ravaged beneath her wing.

He fixed me with a steely gaze, all humor leaving him in a rush. “Tasting that brew again reminds me of death, Imogen.” He pushed back a burgeoning emotion. “You remind me that I am alive.”

He gave an amused snort. “I’m sorry, Immy,” he said into my hair. The use of my name, sweetened and short, had me lifting my head in surprise. His stare was reverent, warm, steadfast. “You are far, far from repellent.”

For I was as undiscerning as a storm, as ruinous as a tidal wave crashing, and I could never live with myself if he was caught in my devastation.

The hinges of the chamber door squeaked. I rose quickly. Raced into the room. “Theo?” Agatha stood in a lovely charcoal gown, her face edged with concern, and my eyes burned. Gods damn it. I’d wanted it to be him. I wanted it to always be him.

“I cannot even see her for the way you encompass me.” Emotion etched his face. “You fill my every sense. You stalk my waking mind. You make up the entirety of my dreams. I couldn’t speak to you after what Lachlan said because it shocked me—that he was right. About what I feel—”

“What I feel for you is beyond reason—beyond duty and desire. You have tipped my whole world on its side, and you are the one clear thing in the chaos.” His nose brushed the end of mine. “You. I want you.”

“Tell me.” He stopped, breath heaving as his smile faded into an open, wondrous look. “I have never wanted anything…” He paused. “… the way I want you.”

“I’ve been besotted from the moment I saw you on that overlook in that ridiculous dress. It was easy to kneel.”

“You are so determined to believe you are some dark harbinger, some monster. I cannot believe—I refuse to believe that knowing you, that binding myself to you—” He swallowed hard. “That… that caring for you could possibly be the cause of my ruination. 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.”

“Do you think we are fated to be as we always have been? You, blighted by fear, and me, devoutly, miserably dutiful. We were both fading away.” He crossed the space between us. “You have shone a light on me. You made me feel fury and terror and joy and longing. How do I curl myself back into the darkness after being so alive?” My

“I look like I’ve been scooped up from the wildlands.” He nodded his agreement. “Even so.” He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. “It’s best to keep you like this, I think,” he said, as he led us toward the door to the garden. His gaze smoldered as it skipped over my hair, my mouth, the scoop of my neckline. “If I am made a fool by you like this, I’d be incapacitated to see you dressed as you should be.” His attention forced a smile to my lips. “And how should I be dressed?” “In a crown.”

if you will have me again at the end of all this—even if you won’t—I am yours.