A Siren's Choice (Book One in A Siren's Series)

Chapter Twenty-Three: He Knows

Lia

The sound of my feet hitting the earth seems to echo in the eerily quiet night. The light of the full moon makes everything appear to be in black and white, like all colour has been drained away.

That's what it feels like to me anyways as I stand in the dark shadow cast by the cottage.

I know I must go inside, that it is time to take him back to the Coast, but my feet are glued to the ground, still prolonging the inevitable.

When I had finished shadowing the instructor, Proteus had asked if I could do a one on one session with him, and as I had said yes, I knew it wasn't for him, but for me.

Proteus tried to keep me and my mind as occupied as possible by getting me to show him different manoeuvres, by asking me for various tips to better his techniques, and even by sparing with me. Proteus hates sparing with me, even though he is far taller and has way more muscle then I, he has never been able to beat me, for he is the one that always ends up flat on his back in the end.

But tonight, despite T's best efforts, I kept getting distracted, and for once I was the one who kept ending up flat on my ass.

Proteus decided after a while that he just couldn't keep 'whooping my ass', especially when I wasn't all there, especially when he eventually realised that I wasn't even trying anymore, that I was letting him throw me on my ass. It distracted me from my inescapable fate, and gave me a fool's hope. Since physical wounds like bruises and scrapes heal, and my heart will, must, do the same, even if it is out of shape and never quite the same again.

Especially after knowing what his full lips taste like, and how glorious they feel against mine.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, and I pray to the Goddess for strength that I will surely need to help me survive tonight, and when I open my eyes, I know that I can't prolong the inevitable a second longer.

I open the door and step inside, closing it softly behind me, and the first thing I notice is how dark it is, which is odd, Nathaniel always has the fire going until it burns out in the wee hours of the morning, but there is only a faint orange glow coming from the living area.

I get this foreboding feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is not quite right as I slowly walk towards the living area.

I stop besides the couch, and stare perplex at the glowing embers in the fireplace, and that's when I glimpse a figure sitting on the couch from the corner of my eyes. I swing around in alarm, but calm down instantly when I recognise Nathaniel's black dishevelled hair that hides his eyes from me.

"Nathaniel", I call out softly, thinking that maybe he just doesn't realise I am here, but he does not answer me, he just continues to stare straight ahead at the glowing embers, he is so still that if it wasn't for his steady heart beat I would think he was a statue.

Taking a cautious step forward, "Nathaniel..." I call out to him again, my tone becoming wary as the silence between us becomes suffocating. I take a few more slow, cautious steps towards him, stopping once I stand to his left, but he does nothing, "Na-", I start, but freeze, when he finally lifts his head, his eyes a gun metal grey, swirling with such dark, sad emotions as he meets my gaze.

"Stop... Stop pretending", he whispers, his voice raw and full of so much pain, and yet his face is utterly expressionless, cold.

I want to ask what does he mean 'pretending'. But I'm stuck in his turbulent gaze, unable to speak, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

"I know what you are", he suddenly murmurs, and just like that my lungs seize, and I can't breathe. He turns his pain filled gaze away, and stares blankly at what is left of the fire, "I know what truly happened the night we met", and my heart stops altogether.