Adrian (Prologue)

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What is a Siren's only love?

Galana closed her eyes as the Ocean brushed against her, tugging her ebony hair in all directions and sending a nervous tremor through her matching tail. She knew her mistress would be angry with her, but she couldn't find it in herself to be sorry. The only reason sorrow marred her sculpted features was the thought of what the wild and vicious Sea would do to the squirming bundle in her arms.

A Siren's only love should be to her mother, and the Sea does not give up her daughters.

"I," Galana choked as the water churned around her like a hungry tiger shark. She opened her eyes and glared fiercely into the abysmal depths.

"I have served you longer than any of my sisters, Mother. You speak of how your love for us is greatest and how nothing can rival a mother's love."

She looked down at the restless baby in her arms, and her gaze softened as she gentle caressed his ebony locks. Dark brown eyes looked up to meet her electric blues-the eyes of his father. Galana would sink a thousand ships to keep her child safe.

"Did you ever wonder if we wanted to know what it felt to give a mother's love?" she whispered, and the churning slowed. Confusion wafted through the darkness around her, and she could sense her mistress's concern.

Is my love not enough?

"I am grateful for everything you have ever done for me," Galana assured her, "But I wanted to feel how you feel when you look at us, your children, and the love I feel for him-I now understand why you guard us so fiercely."

The water remained strangely quiet and so still she could see light from the full moon shine down from above in unbroken beams. Galana's tail fin flexed involuntarily, and she pulled her baby close to her chest, hiding his face and the soft, not yet hardened scales of his own tail.

"Please, Mother, I beg you. Spare his life. I won't stray from you ever again. He shares my blood-your blood."

A Siren can only have one mother.

Galana bowed her head, her hair flowing in front of her face like a billowing curtain.

"I understand. I shall deliver him to his father. Then," she paused, clutching her baby close as distress clawed at her heart, "you may do as you see best."

The water flowed around her gently, and she sensed that the motion was meant to be a caress. She nodded again and straightened.

He will be cared for.

Galana didn't need to see a face to understand that she would not be the one caring for him.

"Yes, Mother."

Somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico

Galana sighed in relief when the golden beacons of Castrum Pacis came into view. She swam just outside of the citadel's lights, grateful that her son had fallen asleep and would not bring any extra attention. The last thing she needed was the Mers questioning why a Siren would be swimming inside their waters.

Most of the haven's residents safely slept inside their marble houses and bronze domes, each building stacked on or beside the next like a mer-sized tower of coral reminiscent of the human cities along the Mediterranean coast. Bioluminescent algae flowed and shimmered to provide muted light and a variety of colors to the city.

A sand fiddler snapped at her as she strayed too close to one of the smaller homes, and Galana bared her fangs in reply. The small crab curled in on itself and scuttled away, and at the same time all of the small fish in the area scattered. Prey always recognized a predator on the prowl.

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