Page 32 of Brine and Bone
Low.
Wavering.
A dual-toned hum that no Pelagorn could produce. Two notes braided together.
Siren song.
Kore had turned into him, cheek pressed to his chest. Dainty little fingers clinging to his ribs.
That strange hum settled behind his gills. Jiggled the water behind his eyes.
Crying.
He could taste it on the current. Grief. The brine of her heartbreak and fear washed away by dark waters before any single tear might fall.
The anguish neither king would let her forget.
Scared.
His bride was terrified for her baby, and in her dread, she had turned tohim.The very one who'd dragged her beneath the waves and remade her flesh.
For a moment, he simply drank in the scent of her.
Mystified by this precious, beautiful creature. So delicate.
His sweet Siren bride.
And then, fingers finding the back of her skull, he cradled her head against his chest. Sending the other arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in deeper. Anchoring her in place with the weight of a thing that would never let her go.
For a long moment, he did not move. Didn't speak.
Just let her cling to his strength.
Absorbing the precious Siren song as deep as he could get it.
And then his arms tightened.
When he answered her, it started deep in his chest.
A sound without language.
Absent thought.
A vibration he pressed to the crown of her head, sending the sound through her skull. Down her spine. And into the fragile body that carried his heart and legacy.
"My flame." The words were rough, left ragged from the wrath still smoldering in his throat. "My precious, living flame."
Claws gentling, carding through her hair, he watched where it drifted behind her. Smoke in the water.
Fingers tangling, he gathered a lock of that billowing silk and brought it to his face. Inhaled. Let it flutter across his lips. Tasting her scent, that citrus and lightning. Bright Siren ozone,laced with honeyed sweetness that had clung to her since his spawn had taken root.
"Such a sweet bride," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Mine."
The hum in her chest stuttered.
Softened.
The tension bled from her elegant frame, one hitching, ragged breath at a time. With every pass of his palm. Each crooning note he sent rattling through her bones.
