She’d been through hell before, had her bones broken and her face bruised. She’d had countless cuts and abrasions scattered over her body thanks to hands and fists belonging to those far larger than her. And yet, the agony dwelling within her now, cascading outside her? was even worse.
Her fingers curled and she lowered her head as another wave of fire crashed into her. She sucked in a breath, praying it would be over soon. Dimly, she remembered her friends explaining the pain and agony that had come with changing into their paranormal halves once they’d completed the mating bond.
Only there hadn’t been a mating bond between her, Tristan, and Seth.
She’d cried for that in the short time the realization had taken to unfold, let the tears fall for a future that would never come to be.
And yet here she was, perhaps changing into something non-human altogether.
It didn’t make any sense.
As quickly as it had come, the pain went away. She fell in a heap of limbs, yet her men—her men, dear goddess—caught her in their arms. They ran their hands up and down her sides and arms, kissing her softly on her temple and shoulders, as if they couldn’t help but caress her. Her skin was so sensitive that their slight brushes felt so much deeper, so much more precise, but she wouldn’t take away their touch for the world.
She didn’t want to think about what that meant, or how she would deal once they spoke about their lack of bond.
“Amara,” Tristan said softly. He brushed her hair back from her face before cupping her cheek. “Talk to me, darling. Does it still hurt? What can we do?”
“I…” She coughed, and Tristan looked over her head at Seth.
“Hold her,” Tristan ordered before leaving her and Seth on the bed.
As Seth had already been holding her, he just brought her tightly to his chest and kissed her softly on the lips.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. “I think Tristan is getting you water.” He paused, and she looked up at him expectedly. “He doesn’t really tell us everything he’s doing as he’d doing it unless it’s in bed.”
She wanted to smile at that but she was too damned tired. “That’s true. And we’re going to have to fix that.” She coughed again, and Seth ran his hands over her.
“Don’t speak. Wait for Tristan to get you the water.”
Even as he spoke, she felt her energy bouncing back, this time with a resurgence she didn’t understand. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Yet she knew that wasn’t the case. She’d purposely not looked at her skin or anything having to do with herself. What had changed? Was she still the same Amara as before, or had she shifted into something paranormal? And if she had changed, what did that mean?
She lay in the arms of one of the men she wanted to be hers in truth, yet she was too afraid to hope that with the possibility of her changing, fate would actually provide for her. It hadn’t in the past, and she didn’t want to think it could happen now. Hope only brought pain and disappointment. It was something she’d been taught at an early age, and it would take more than the idea of magic and fate to change that.
Tristan returned quickly, still naked but with a glass of water in his hand. Later, she’d scold him for allowing anyone else to see him naked as there were others in the home. He was hers and Seth’s, only they got that right.
She gulped down the water and sighed once Tristan lifted it from her hands. “Thank you. I feel much better.” She frowned. “In fact, I feel even better than I did before everything happened.” She licked her lips. “What exactly happened?”
Tristan cupped her cheek even as Seth leaned closer. “You changed, Amara.”
Apprehension slid over her skin. “What…what am I?”
“You’re a siren, Amara.” Tristan paused. “A fucking beautiful siren.”
Images of mermaids and long-haired women luring sailors to their deaths filled her head and she frowned.
“There are sirens?”
Seth snorted. “Yeah, and you’re one of them. Sirens and the merpeople have a long history, so you being one kind of rocks.”
Amara’s head hurt. Instead of saying anything, she pulled away from both men and scrambled off the bed. They let her go but followed her to the mirror above the dresser. When she spotted her reflection, she paused.
“Dude.”
Not the most eloquent of phrases, but honestly, she didn’t know what else to say.
Because, dude.
Her skin glowed. Freaking glowed. And that wasn’t even the fantastical part. Lavender and scarlet floral and script tattoos covered her sides and hips, going up and under her breasts before circling back to her shoulders and down her arms. The ink continued up the side of her neck and framed her face.
Her temples, the sides of her jaw, and up to part of her forehead with two branches coming out over her eyebrows and hairline also held the tattoos.
Normally, she’d have thought she looked, well, a little freaky, but for some reason, it felt…right.
Her eyes themselves hadn’t been enlarged, but the brown of her irises had turned lavender, the color taking up even more area than before, as if the whites of her eyes had lessened.