They whispered amongst one another and slithered over rocks and through the water. They knew what tonight was- they all knew. Tonight was the night one of the men would be chosen by one of the Sirens... but of course, none of the men knew that.
They all snapped to attention as a vessel entered the cavern, drawn in by the security it promised and safety from the storm they brewed up just moments before. There it was, golden letters shining on the hull. The Black Fin, it read.
They heinous seafolk opened their mouths, their unnaturally sharp, white teeth gleaming from behind their dark lips, drawn back in a venomous smile. They were seconds away from delivering their sweet, lethal spell in the form of a luring song. But once again, none of the men knew it, much less noticed them.
Suddenly a pale, slim hand sliced the moonlight, freezing in the air, halting them. The women looked at one another, questions in their eyes, leaving hunger hanging loosely in the air. The hand belonged to their Queen. Her snowy white skin was far fairer than the other sirens' ashy gray tone. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders like ink and spread through the water in black tendrils. Perched atop her head was a large crown fit for a king, shells of all sorts jabbing upward somewhat threateningly, lined with fine golden chains and encrusted with pearls ranging from red to yellow to blue to black. Her unique emerald eyes glittered with desire as she gazed at the man piosed at the front of the ship.
There he was. The one. Her only claim. The pirate captain, captain of his ship, of his fleet. She drew in a sharp breath. The pirate king. The rims of his eyelids were darkened with kohl, his golden brown eyes narrowed between them. His long hair was tied from his face, bound by a single, red ribbon. On his chin, grew a fine beard, well trimmed.
The queen uttered only one phrase.
"I want him."
* * *
But that was a little over twenty years ago.
YOU ARE READING
Heir of the Seas (#Wattys2017)
PertualanganA young woman in her mid-twenties stands on the bow of her ship, the wind caressing her face, sending her dark hair into inky ripples tethered to her scalp. She turned her head up to the moon- the full moon- and frowned. They would be comi...
