Page 10 of A Reckless Indulgence

She waits for him to change his mind, but it doesn’t happen. He’s serious. Foolish hope darts through her chest, and she turns to push open his shirt.

Scar tissue grows around the spiral shell embedded in his left pectoral. When she hovers her hand over it, it glows, like her song is a living thing trapped inside. The light’s not as strong as it used to be. Over time, its sheen has faded, returning only when she craves something to desperation. These days, it only shines when she imagines her freedom.

There’s no stealing it from Tidus. Depths know she’s tried. There’s no running from him, either; she aches when she’s apart from it, a pain so deep that she swore it would kill her. Her song is so frail now. She fears it needs a host, that Tidus is the only thing keeping it alive outside of her body. As much as she hates him, she dreads what would happen to her song if he dies.

He snags her wrist to pull her focus back toward his face. “See? I’m not as bad as you tell yourself am.”

Her fingers flex. She wants to drag her nails into his face, but she lifts her other arm to watch her song react to her presence. It casts light into her hand, a soothing reminder that she’s not alone.

“To think I almost caught two sirens.” Tidus sighs and leans back in his chair. “That would’ve made shit so much easier. I’d have an entire fleet of ships by now.”

The memory blisters in Lyx’s mind. Mollo. It’s so easy for Tidus to recount the day Lyx’s own sister betrayed her. Lyx still doesn’t know how she did it, using magic to snatch Lyx’s song and trap it inside that shell.

Just like a siren to betray one of her own. It fills Lyx with a concoction of emotion. Fury. Pride. Hunger. She wants to smash Mollo’s head in. She wants to see what Mollo does next. She wants to get her revenge again and again until it kills one of them.

But right now, Lyx is powerless to do anything. Without the sway of the ocean or the swell of her song, she might as well be a ghost. Impotent. Unreal. So transparent that she can only wail against the walls of her prison.

“Tell me again,” she breathes, reaching for the buckle of Tidus’s pants. “Tell me you’ll return my song.”

He lets her dress fall away, cupping her breasts when he meets her eyes. “Once you get me Heathen’s secrets, this song? Your freedom?” He drags his thumbs against her nipples until they peak. “It’s all yours.”

Her mouth collides with his, hips grinding into his lap. The promise fuels her almost as much as her hatred for Tidus, for Mollo…

For Cav.

Her teeth sink into Tidus’s lip. He curses when she draws blood, gripping her ass to draw her closer. He meets her fervor, pearls scattering to the ground as he drags his mouth down her body.

The image of Cav burns behind her eyes. She’ll take her time destroying him. She’ll savor his pain and draw out his suffering, swallowing him until there’s nothing left.

When she pictures it, the shell in Tidus’s chest glows.

In the Grotto

Cav

Of all the ways to die, this is the one Cav would choose.

Being dragged into sleep requires so little from him, his mind drifting lazily. There’s no fighting it. His body is heavy, submerged in dreams that cling to him like syrup. By the time he reaches the surface, fatigue wraps around his ankles and pulls him under again.

At least the hallucinations are nice. He eats delicious feasts and laughs at silly jokes and feels the wind on his face. The siren is his favorite reverie. It makes sense she would appear when he’s swallowed half his weight in saltwater; everyone’s heard tales, but sirens don’t really exist. Any pirate who searches for one might as well be digging for fool’s gold.

Still, she feels real. While Cav’s other delusions are soft and nebulous, her hands around his throat were cool and slick, as refreshing as the first drink of an oasis.

He almost forgets she was trying to kill him. Now that would have been the best way to go.

He didn’t get a good look at her, his eyelids to heavy from sunlight glinting off the water, but her voice…he clings to that. It was hypnotic, dissonant, pulling him out like the receding tide.

In his dreams, she is a dark shape beneath the water and always out of reach. If he had any sense, he’d be frightened — but who cares? He’s dying anyway, and her menacing presence makes him feel less alone.

Like now, when she stands over him and casts a shadow across his face. It’s a relief from the morning light, allowing his mind to return fully to his body. The water around him has grown deeper, his lower half floating weightlessly. From above, cool water drips onto his face. He wants to drink it, but his forked tongue is thick and stiff. An aching pit gnaws at his stomach, and his shoulder throbs and twinges. He can hardly move his mouth, his inhales fading, the gaps between breaths growing longer and longer.

“You’re still not dead.” The siren’s voice is rife with disappointment. Despite the pain, Cav’s mouth twitches. He means to smile, but from the disgusted sound she makes, he’s not sure what his body is doing.

“Y…” His voice is as fragile as wet parchment. He can’t even try to clear his throat, lips cracking around the words. “Came…back?”

He has no concept of time. In truth, he’s still not convinced this is reality. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe his withering consciousness has crafted a companion to carry him into death. His smile spreads wider. If she’s the one to accompany him, he’ll go gladly.

Beside him, glass bottles clatter against the sand. The siren’s closer than before, but Cav can’t pry his salt-crusted eyes open to see her. Something grips his shirt, and Cav hisses when his shoulder spasms. A shredding sound echoes off the cave walls before a breeze tickles the bare skin of his chest.