Page 72 of A Reckless Indulgence

In the Grotto

Lyx

Lyx could have killed Cav. She could have rutted in his lap and taken the last thing she wanted. She could have ended him. She could have, if the bottle had been poisoned. If she’d held him underwater. If her malicious instincts took over.

But they never did. Instead, she retrieved a dinghy and hoisted him inside. The sleeping draught worked wonders. He didn’t stir when she nudged the boat out of the cave and into the night. She pushed that boat for miles, arms burning and teeth grit, until she found an island dotted with houses. Candles glowed in the windows with smoking chimneys rising toward the dawn, signs of life that Lyx typically avoided. Today, though, she swam closer until the water grew shallow. Her fingers curled around the edge of the boat. She should have loosened her grip. She should have let go, but she allowed herself one final look.

Cav’s body was tucked against the wood, eyelashes resting on his cheeks. For the first time, his mouth was slack, haunted by the ghost of a grin. Lyx traced his lips, following the curved bridge of his nose into the hollows under his eyes.

Just a look, hm?

Saltwater dripped from her onto his face. His pointed ears twitched, and she jerked back, shoving the boat with all her might. It drifted aimlessly, carried sideways by the current. Lyx lowered until only her eyes peered above the water.

Take him to shore. Please, she thought.

Slowly, the ocean shifted. Waves moved past her shoulders and rushed beneath the dinghy. It rocked out of her reach, floating toward the island until the hull dug into the sand. Further down the beach, someone began their morning walk. They leaned against their cane, head tilting toward the strange boat washed ashore.

Since then, Lyx hasn’t stopped swimming. Her muscles ache, but she relishes the pain, putting distance between herself and that foolish pirate. She doesn’t even think his name anymore. She skirts schools of fish and scours underwater volcanoes. She watches ships pass overhead. She dives as deep as she can, until her body is compressed and there’s no light left to see by.

Anything to keep her mind off him.

She doesn’t surface for weeks. When she does, she avoids the island where she left him. There are plenty of others to choose from. They’re all the same, anyway. She can’t find a single stretch of beach that isn’t splattered with lovers wrapped in each other’s arms for all the world to see. They giggle and whisper, eyes for only their paramours.

Lyx blows bubbles from her mouth. She bets they all think they’re in love. One word of her song, and those sweethearts would tear each other apart. What do they know about anything?

A storm rolls in. That’s why she returns to the grotto. There is no sentimental reason. When she rises out of the water, she ignores the swelling in her throat. She knows what she’ll find here: charred sticks and barren bottles gathered on the shore. If she stares at them hard enough, she can forget why they’re here. She can forget everything that happened. She can forget that she is alone.

Waves echo against the cave walls. It’s louder than before, no longer dampened by another body. On the bank, the plants wither and wilt, like the life has been sucked out of this place. Lyx pads beside them. It’s been weeks since she used her legs, but she finds a familiar indentation in the dirt. The ground is no longer warm from his body, but she can almost pretend. She sinks down, curling her knees beneath her and reaching for the bottle of sleeping draught. His mouth was here. If she shuts her eyes, the image dances across her mind, his golden eyes staring up at her when offered his tongue. Her cheeks burn, but she curls her fingers around the neck of the bottle and brings it to her lips —

“I was wondering when you’d show back up.”

Lyx splutters. Beyond the rocky ledge, Mollo’s glowing eyes drift on the water’s surface.

Lyx shoves the bottle into the weeds. “Haven’t you found someone else to torture?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Mollo’s sleek tail weaves back and forth. Thunder rumbles in the distance. “You swam off so fast the other day, I don’t think you got a bite of the treat I brought.”

“I don’t need your sloppy seconds.”

“You like ‘em fresh, don’t you?” Mollo flashes her frilled teeth. “Keep ‘em alive like a lobster in a cage, waiting for you to get hungry.”

Lyx pushes to her feet. She may have the high ground, but there’s something strange about another siren watching her on land. She feels naked, missing all the parts that make her dangerous. When Lyx moves down the shore, Mollo follows like a shadow.

“Are you just here to bother me?” Lyx asks. Chaos dribbles down her throat, but she keeps her eyes on the overgrowth of vines overhead.

“You’ve been gone a while. No one knew where you swam off to — except Sinoe. But she wouldn’t tell me anything.” Mollo hides her smile in the water. “You can’t blame me for being curious.”

“Be curious somewhere else.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Mollo sighs, floating on her back. “Maybe I’ll visit one of the islands. There’s always something new to play with. Some new pirate washed up on the shore.”

Lyx’s scales prickle. She tugs at one of the leaves, but she can’t stay focused, always watching Mollo in her periphery.

Mollo stretches her arms behind her head. “In fact, I heard someone’s looking for us. Handsome, witless…the best kind.” Chuckling, she shakes her head. “A dragon. What are the odds?”

The vine snaps. Lyx’s pulse pounds through her mind. Mollo knows. Mollo has been watching her. Mollo has seen Cav.

“It’d be perfectly ruinous.” Mollo clicks her tongue. “Fire, water, star-crossed lovers destined for tragedy. I heard he’s been roaming the beaches, wading out into the waves and searching for a siren to sing to him. And you know what?” The slits of her nostrils flare. “He just might find me.”