After the Fire

The room was still, bathed in the low amber light of the city beyond the penthouse windows. A faint pulse of magic still clung to the walls—thick, charged, like the air after a storm.

And I was lying between them.

Cassian’s arm was heavy across my waist, his bare chest pressed to my back, radiating heat even in sleep. Xanden lay on my other side, fingers gently brushing through my hair, so careful, as if I’d break if he touched too hard.

But I wasn’t broken.

I was burning.

The bonds had taken hold. I could feel them—one like a roaring inferno in my blood, the other like silver thread woven through my bones. There was no undoing this. No running now.

And gods help me, I didn’t want to.

Cassian stirred behind me, a low rumble in his chest as he tightened his hold on my waist. “You’re awake.”

“Mmm,” I breathed, eyes still closed. “Barely.”

Xanden’s hand slipped down to rest at my hip, grounding me. “You feel different.”

“Everything feels different,” I whispered.

They didn’t say it aloud, but I could sense the truth thrumming between us like a second heartbeat: they felt it too. The shift. The permanence.

They weren’t just lovers now.

They were mine.

And I was theirs.

“I should go,” I said softly, even as my body screamed no.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Cassian growled, lips brushing my shoulder.

“Not until we understand what the hell this is,” Xanden added, more gently. “Two bonds. One siren. That kind of power doesn’t go unnoticed.”

A chill ran through me. The council. The laws. Sirens weren’t supposed to bond—not like this. Not with anyone, let alone two of the most powerful males in the supernatural world.

Cassian sat up behind me, the sheets sliding down his sculpted chest. “We’ll protect you.”

The words were simple. Ruthless in their certainty.

And terrifying.

Because I wasn’t just some prize to guard.

I was the key to something they didn’t understand yet. Something bigger. Something dangerous.

A knock sounded at the penthouse door—three sharp raps that shattered the quiet like a warning bell.

Cassian was already on his feet, dark power crackling around him like lightning. Xanden moved just as fast, a blade of shimmering fae steel appearing in his hand.

I sat up, the sheet clutched to my chest, heart pounding.

The door opened.

And a tall woman in council robes stepped inside, flanked by two armed guards.

Her eyes landed on me.

Cold. Calculating. Hungry.

“Well,” she purred. “So it’s true. The little siren made her move.”

Cassian stepped between us in an instant. “Careful how you speak to my mate.”

Xanden didn’t move from my side, but his magic pressed hard against the walls. “You’re not welcome here.”

The woman just smiled.

“The Council will want answers,” she said. “And if she’s what we suspect… they’ll want more than that.”

She turned and left without another word.

The door clicked shut.

And suddenly, the bond between the three of us didn’t feel like a gift anymore.

It felt like a fuse.

Lit.

And counting down.

SECRETS OF A SIREN

The silence after the councilor left was thick enough to choke on.

Cassian stood in front of the door like a sentinel carved from flame and fury. Xanden sat beside me, his hand on my thigh, grounding me again—but his jaw was tight, his gaze distant. Calculating.

They were ready to fight.

And I—

I was ready to run.

Again.

Cassian turned first, eyes locked on me. “What haven’t you told us?”

I swallowed hard, gripping the sheet like armor. I didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to drag them into it. But the bonds had already done that. My secrets weren’t mine alone anymore.

“They’ll come for me,” I said quietly. “They always do.”

Xanden’s voice was soft. “Why?”

I looked between them, then down at my hands, remembering the way they used to shimmer with ocean light before I learned to dim myself.

“I’m not just a siren,” I said.

Cassian’s brow darkened. “Go on.”

“I’m the last of the royal bloodline. The original line. The ones who could control more than lust or song.”

Xanden blinked. “Control what?”

“Emotion. Desire. Pain. Memory. If someone’s bonded to me…” I hesitated, then said the words that could ruin everything, “I can bend them. Make them do anything.”

Cassian took a slow, lethal breath. “Have you done that to us?”

My chest cracked with the pain of that question. “No. Never. I’ve kept it buried for years. I trained to suppress it—hid what I was, what I could do.”

“Who trained you?” Xanden asked.

“My mother,” I whispered. “Before they killed her.”

That landed with silence.

“I was twelve. She told me to run. Said the council feared us—desired us—but couldn’t risk the power of a true siren queen resurfacing. So they started hunting us down. Quietly. Cleanly. No witnesses.”

“And you’ve been hiding ever since,” Xanden said gently.

I nodded. “I changed my name. Bound my voice. Hid my tail. I’ve spent my life making sure no one knew what I was.”

Cassian moved toward me slowly, crouching in front of the bed, his massive frame a wall between me and the world.

“You’re not hiding anymore,” he said, voice like dark velvet. “You bonded to me. To him. That power you’re afraid of? It’s part of you.”

“And we’re not afraid of it,” Xanden added. “We’re afraid of losing you.”

Tears stung my eyes—furious, unwanted, but honest.

“You don’t know what the council will do if they confirm who I am,” I said. “They won’t just take me.”

“No,” Cassian said. “They’ll try to use you.”

“Or breed you,” Xanden added, his voice bitter. “Like a political weapon.”

I flinched.

Because that was the worst of it. The truth I’d never said aloud.

That’s what they wanted. A bloodline. A siren queen bound to their enemies or their allies. Whoever paid best.

“I’m not a weapon,” I whispered.

Cassian reached for me, pulled me gently into his lap. “No,” he said. “You’re mine.”

Xanden moved in behind me, wrapping his arms around us both.

“Ours,” he corrected softly. “And we’ll burn the world before we let anyone take you.”

I curled into them, warmth blooming through the bonds.

But even in their arms, I couldn’t ignore the truth.

The past wasn’t just knocking.

It had kicked down the door.