The man lying above me stared down at me lovingly, shadows wrapping around the both of us and cocooning us in a bubble of safety.
He smelled of honeysuckle and tasted like sour apples on my tongue.
A shock of ice blonde hair fell atop his forehead as he stared down at me, some uncontrolled longing swirling in the warmth of his eyes that were once so cold, so closed off.
I reached up to brush that hair away, his body shuddering lightly from my touch, as if he felt the reverence within that small action, as if he took whatever he could get from me and worshiped it as if he wouldn't get another chance to place his hands on my skin.
His body warm and solid over mine, he lightly rested his weight atop me and the pressure from him heated the blood inside of me.
There was something in his eyes, some intimate promise that spoke of words he had yet to say aloud.
Something too close to love shone back at me in his eyes. I wondered how mine looked to him.
"Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?"
My back arched upwards into him and his hands moved from their place directly beside my head, snaking around my body until he wrapped them around me and squeezed until the pressure had me closing my eyes of their own accord.
His hold on me was somehow both calming and passionate, swimming in the desire and yearning reflected back to me in his eyes.
Though his face was obscured in shadow, I knew that he would show it to me one day soon.
His shadows writhed and swirled until a tendril of black fog reached out and brushed back a piece of my hair that had fallen in front of my eyes.
Suddenly, everything in the world felt right. Safe. Perfect.
When he leaned down to kiss me, though, the world around us distorted until there was someone banging on the door.
I strained upwards, wrapping my hands around his smooth, decadent skin, but he grabbed my own and pinned them down beside my head.
"Not yet. We'll have time for that later. I'll have you, soon. Just not now."
He leaned down to brush a feather light kiss against my forehead, the scalding tingle of his touch branding me as his when the door to the room flew open and there stood Oren in his beast like form, breathing ragged with drool hanging from his mouth.
"What are you doing? Leave!"
My yell shook the walls of the room around us.
"I can't do that, Princess."
His fingers lengthened into talons.
His mouth widened into a terrifying smile, but when I opened my mouth to scream, nothing came out.
"Wake up, Princess. It's time for your training to continue. We're going to need that mouth-smoke of yours to summon a God, after all."
My eyes flew open, but there was no unearthly beautiful man laying above me, tracing my body with his ethereally pale eyes.
There was no loving energy flowing from his body into mine, and there was no warmth left inside of me at all.
Sabira didn't bother waiting on me to answer her as she ripped the blankets from my body and I shivered from the loss of warmth in the room.
"What in the Everworld is that?"
"What?"
Blinking bleary eyes still slightly tinted with the golden blood of the Elders, I pushed up and back against the soft bed below me and recoiled from Sabira as she was suddenly directly in front of me, her hands coming to my face to inspect me further.
I couldn't help the flinch that reverberated all throughout my body at her nearness.
"What in the gods name are you doing?"
"Just be still. I'm looking at something."
"Something on my face? Well then what is it?"
She pulled back and the sweet scent of lavender and jasmine followed the swish of her hair as it hung in a curtain of blonde between us.
"You've been kissed."
"Kissed?"
My mind immediately turned to my dream, where the man who had been hovering over me and staring down at me with such a loving adoration had placed a delicate kiss atop my forehead.
"Kissedâby death."
"Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all."
Apparently trying to joke wasn't helping the situation as Sabira fixed me with a withering look.
"Josephine, how did you receive this mark? What happened last night? You sang with the Sirens at the bonfire, and then we all came back to my house for wine and then you came in my room to fall asleep. Did someone break into your room in the middle of the night?"
"What? No. Nothing like that. There was no one here besides myself all night."
"Then how..."
Her face paled as she stared at my forehead longer than was comfortable with me.
"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
She huffed out a breath of frustration and moved away from the bed in order to pick up a small ornate silver mirror with a tarnished finish.
"Here."
I gasped out at my reflection.
There hidden in the hazel depths of my light eyes were golden flecks swirling in once normal depths.
Thereâmy face that should've been covered in bruises and cuts from the fight with Oren instead reflected back to me through golden eyes a woman with strength shining in her features.
Features so sharp and angular that I couldn't pretend that I was anything besides a ferocious Siren any longer.
My silver rose hair retreated back into a messily plaitâand then my eyes fell upon the mark on my forehead.
Glowing with the shine of a moonlit night, a mark in the shape of a scythe radiated against the olive pallor of my skin.
"What is this?"
"It is the kiss of death. The God of shadow and death has marked you. We need to meet with Olesia immediately. She'll know what to do about this."
She started to turn away but I gripped her arm in my wrist, the glass mirror thudding helplessly to the ground below the bed.
"What does it mean?"
Her face adopted a green hue as a pale kind of sickness washed over her.
"It means nothing. Olesia and the other Elders will know what to do, and you'll be fine."
"What, am I going to die now that I'm marked by the God of death? Because if that's all, then that's what I've been wishing for the past two years now, so he'd actually be doing me a favor."
With those words, it felt as if I'd just cursed myself to the fate I'd just described.
"Don't say things like that, Josephine. The Elders will know what to do. Don't worry."
"I wasn't worrying until you started acting like this. So I had a realistic dream and now I have this mark on my head. Can it be any more worrying than what I've already gone through? More worrying than the King of Valencia and my uncle both being after me? More worrying than Oren and his intentions and the mystery of my burning smoke?"
"You had a dream before the mark was placed? What happened? Was the God of shadow and death in it?"
"No. Even though I've never seen a God up close and in person, I'm fairly certain I'd be able to tell if one was in my dreams. Butâ"
"What in the gods name is taking you two so long?"
Inala barged into the room just as Sabira turned to her with wringing hands in front of her body.
"It's probably not as bad as it looks. The Elders will have a solution, I'm sure of it."
"What are youâoh. No. Everworld, no."
Inala had never looked so terrified in all the short time I'd known her as she did right in that moment.
"What exactly does this kiss of death mean? Am I going to come across the God of shadow and death and he'll give me a kiss? Or will he, quite literally, kiss me to death? Would someone please explain to me what's going onâI don't have the all encompassing education you two seem to have benefited from here in Hefeta."
But the Sirens were silent.
Silver swirled in the blue depths of Inala's eyes.
Sniffing angrily, Sabira turned to Inala.
"I know this isn't ideal, butâ"
"We need Oren. I know."
"And Soraya. It's the only way."
"If it involves Oren, it's not necessary," I tried on them, but they weren't having it. They tuned me out completely as they spoke amongst one another.
"We'll go to Olesia first. No need to scare the rest of the community with this."
"And what if we can't stop what's coming?"
The loud peal of a horn shattered our quiet existences.
"It's too late. Get her to Oren, now. I'll bring Olesia to you when we receive the all-clear. Be safe, sister."
Inala touched her forehead to Sabira's in what seemed like a final farewell.
"Be safe, sister."
Inala snatched up my hand in hers and yanked me from the bed to my feet, a pinched frown on her pink mouth and watched as Sabira rushed from the room before grabbing the nearby dress that had been laid out for me and threw it haphazardly over my head.
Instead of the royal blue dress from the day before, this one was forest green; the deep sage of a spring dusk colored with the leaves of newborn woodlands.
Inala wasted no time in cinching up the corset top behind my back and I marveled at the intricate gold stitching trailing all down the dress before I was roughly yanked back into a chair as Inala began lacing up the riding boots she'd acquired from the corner.
"You don't have toâ"
"Hush. You'd fumble with your fingers. This is much quicker."
"Do the horns mean that someone isâ"
"Those are not the sounds of a Siren returning home. Those are the call of the warriors. We're being invaded."
When I finally got my head to end its dizzying assault on my senses, I only stared at Inala and her deft fingers as she laced and tied and laced once more the dark brown boots on my feet.
The swishing of the string was the only sound in the cabin. It was the only sound in the entire community aside from those horns ringing out so desperately loud.
"Where will we go?"
"I'm taking you to the men's side of the community. You'll stay in Oren's tent until we can get you to safety."
"Butâ"
"You will not disobey me on this, Princess. You might outrank me, but I am older, stronger, and I am blood sworn to protect you at any cost. Despite your feelings for him, Oren is your best bet in keeping you safe. If we can keep you hidden until night falls, that is."
I didn't respond as she stood and slung the bag containing my old possessions from Avanth that Oren had so graciously delivered to Sabira's home once we were settled in across her shoulder.
I hadn't opened it once since it had arrived.
I didn't dare peek inside the journal that it contained, either.
I made a vow that if I survived this night, then I would write again, no matter how heavy the pen might've felt in my hand.
If I survived, then that meant that the gods must've believed I had something worthwhile to give to the world, whatever that may be.
Following Inala out of Sabira's home that she had opened to me, a veritable stranger, I took one last look at the deep blue ornate rugs with gold stitching.
For some reason, it felt as if this would be the last time I'd ever be seeing it, and that made the moment far too bittersweet for me.
One last inhale of the sweet buttery rolls she'd baked fresh that morning, and then we were outside.
It was complete and absolute chaos.
Soldiers streamed past in coordinated lines, but the Sirens were fortifying buildings with buckets of what looked to be...black powder that glimmered in the sunlight.
"What is that?" I asked Inala after noticing the fifth Siren place a bucket of the material on the ground beside the meat smoking building.
"Moon dust. It explodes on contact with fire."
"What are they doing putting itâ"
I cut myself off as I followed the rest of the Sirens in my sight and my eyes widened in realization.
They were gathered around the buckets of moon dust and were placing a handful very carefully into cotton pouches before tying those pouches to the sticks of arrows and an assembly line began as they handed the explosive arrows off to a soldier with his arms already full of the combustive weapons.
"Areâare we at war?"
"It would seem that way, Princess."
Towing me by the elbow past rolling green hills decorated with soldiers in full armor and Sirens in what seemed to be ceremonial robes, Inala marched past them with determination on her sharp features.
Her blood red hair billowed in the soft wind behind her and I couldn't help but think that she looked much like a warrior herself.
Undeterred. Resilient. Brave. An immovable object with one purpose.
Inala ignored the calls of the Sirens asking where she was going with their princess.
Sigrid only watched us as we left, her mother packing a bag before our eyes on the ground as it looked like she, too, was being sent to the men's side of Hefeta.
"Are we being attacked from the sea?"
"Yes. As is the protocol, the Elders and our most powerful Sirens who inherited the magic from Hefeta herself are on the cliffs using the wind to their advantage."
"They can control the wind?"
Inala smirked before flicking the wrist of her left hand and a wind tunnel formed out of thin air, picking up debris and leaves and dirt until she abruptly dropped it.
"We can. I'm sure you could, too, if you were taught properly. But why would you need it, when you can kill by just opening your mouth? And not just men, like us normal Sirens, but anyone who touches your lethal mouth smoke."
"It's not like I have any control over who it kills regardless," I spat out, bitterness swirling on my tongue just as the scent of sweet smoke invaded my senses.
"The men's camp is rightâ"
"Josephine. Where in the Everworld have youâ"
Oren came cresting over the top of a small green knoll and stopped dead as soon as he saw the mark upon my head.
He stood tall and imposing in his black armor that coated his body like a second skin.
Turning to Inala with a question in his eyes, the Siren beside me nodded her head grimly.
"We're working on it. If you couldn't tell, we're a bit busy at the moment."
"How did this happen?"
His words were forced out in a rush as he took a staggered step toward me.
I was suddenly thrust into a memory from the dream I'd been ripped out of by Oren's presence in it.
"She woke up with it on her head. I have no idea how it happened, but that doesn't matter right now. You need to keep her safe. Take her to your tent, and do not let her leave. Do whatever it takes."
"And I'm not allowed to go and fight what's most likely the king who's been chasing me my entire life to save this community and all the children here from his wrath? I could open my mouth and he could be killed in an instant."
"Yes, and possibly kill the rest of us in the process. Didn't you just say that you couldn't control the power that comes from you when you sing? We can't take that chance. We have a protocol for thisâit's not the first time the king has tried to breach our walls, and it won't be the last. We were ready then, we're ready now, and we'll continue to be ready. Just stay with Oren. You die, I die."
I flinched at her admonition.
"What do you mean, 'you die, I die'?"
"It's part of the blood swearing," Oren began, but I refused to look into his amber eyes, focusing instead on the intensity of Inala's features as they morphed from sternness to guilt.
"Why didn't you tell me this? Sever the bond, now."
"It's not that simple, Princess."
"Then simplify it," I shouted at Oren, finally catching his gaze from across the short expanse of grass in the way between us.
"Planning on getting yourself killed, Jo?"
"No, Inala. But my uncle has the blood of my dead father and a bronze blade and is adamant to find me and kill me. Please, put those two things together for me and tell me that I don't have a finite time left to live. Not to mention this mark on my head, now? This kiss of death? Better me dead than you, Inala. I can't take you down with meâI won't."
A snarl left my blood-sworn's lips; the mouth of a Siren I'd come to admire and respect and even think of as my friend, one of my only.
She stepped closer until she was directly in front of me, notes of lavender and jasmine swirling up around her much like the scent that wrapped Sabira in its effusive embrace.
"After surviving as a living corpse in a cave for two years with the stars and dust around me my only companions, don't you think death would be a welcome friend to me?"
And when the painful truth of her words hit me dead in the center of my being, I realized that whatever had forged myself and Inala in the fieriest pits of the world, they had created us both the same.
Uncaring for our own lives and instead focusing on the ones around us.
There was a blink of hesitation before Inala grabbed my head in her hands and placed her forehead against mine, just as she had done with Sabira.
"Be safe, sister."
"Be safe, sister," I echoed after her in a willow whisper, watching the footprints she'd made in the plush grass spring back up after her weight retreated and then I was standing before Oren and the intensity of his tireless gaze.
"Follow me."
He turned his large back on me and I was surprised to note that he held his injured arm in a cradle against his chest from where I'd stabbed him in our spar the night before.
So, immortals could be hurt, then. Even demigods.
His eyes met mine in a burning river of emotions I couldn't wade through. The mark upon my forehead tingled in intensity, searing me from the inside out.
I trailed after him as the world around us descended into madness.
***
Author's Note:
Who is attacking Hefeta?
What (who) do they want?
What's going on with Josephine's 'kiss of death'?
What do you think is going to happen next?
What do you want to happen next?
Until next time my lovely readers,
Kristen :)
***
The World of Irena: