Siren Call Book Novels & Stories

I moaned, unable to stop it. “Look at you,” he said, his voice was low. “All shy and trembling. But you’re not a nun yet.” He leaned closer, his breath was warm on my cheek. “Let’s make sure you never want to be.” Then his voice dropped into a growl. “You’re my filthy little angel tonight. So go ahead… confess your sins to Daddy.” --- TO BE CONTINUED… --- Author's Note: Hey everyone, thanks for checking out my story! I've been so excited to share Mirabel's journey with you all. I've always been fascinated by stories about forbidden love and impossible choices, and this one has been a blast to write.

The murder was brutal—the mother drove a steel nail into the girl's skull! Recalling the two phone calls I received that afternoon, I trembled all over. If the call was from the murdered little girl, there was only one possibility—the call was from 20 years ago! I could not believe the inference myself. To verify, I checked my call history and called back. After two beeps, the call was connected. I quickly asked, "What year is it over there?" "What do you mean?" The little girl's puzzled voice echoed from the other end of the line.

I had no idea what they meant, but I knew instinctively they were true. Winter shouted something, but it was drowned out by the sound of snapping wood and cracking branches. The shadows were relentless. I felt a tug in my chest—something calling me. Something familiar. My book. It throbbed against my bag strap, like it knew exactly what was happening. “Selene!” Fenrir’s voice cut through the chaos. “Now!” I nodded, gripping the book and pulling it from my bag. The moment my hands touched it, warmth spread through me, strange and electric.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as they brushed the leather cover. The scent of wildflowers and ozone was so strong it made my head spin. Unlike the other floating books, this one sat heavy and grounded on the pedestal, as if it were the anchor for the entire room. The title was embossed in a regal, ancient script: "How to Mute Your Change's Resonance and How to Detect Another Change." "It’s exactly what the Queens said we needed," Sol whispered, leaning over my shoulder. "A way to move without alerting the Eclipse."

It was a small silver sedan, familiar yet foreign in this moment of upheaval. The streets passed by in a blur as I navigated through the city, each turn bringing me farther away from the life I once knew. I had left the mansion, my suitcase in the back of the car. I had left my husband behind in hopes of trying to get a clearer mind. “Hey Siri, call Fallon Knight,” I said, and my phone activated and did what it was told. Why was I calling her? I think I had finally made my decision, I was going to take the deal.

Sylvia said pointing around the room, “Is your siren side being freed and allowed to consume what it desires the most.” “Sex?” I asked her confused. “Yes. Sirens freed off sexual encounters. Can’t you smell it calling to you?” Sylvia asked me as she took a whiff of the air. I decided to amuse her and take my whiff and that’s when it hit me hard. The scent of everyone’s arousal in the room as it began to call to me. I closed my eyes and it was as if I could feel everyone’s hands on me at once and I could feel a need begin to burn in my core.

I shouted, trying to keep the encroaching fog at bay with the protective chant Elena taught us. A sudden scream pierced the fog. "Elena!" I cried out. The eldest Siren laughed again. "Your friend cannot help you now." "Focus, Sophia," Alex urged, his eyes scanning the fog for any sign of Elena. "We need to find her and get out of here." As we pushed forward, guided by our bond and determination, a sudden realization hit me. "The Sirens feed off emotions, off pain and regret," I whispered. "We need to counter it with the opposite."

The siren had hoped not to cry but it was not a surprise when she felt her cheeks being flooded. "Hush, little one. It is not your fault. This is how everything was destined to be. All is written on the ancient books and the walls — there are whispers and songs about all that is happening and is going to happen, don't you worry!" Gentle pressing his hand on Melpomene's shoulder, Liam spoke, pacifying a broken siren.

His exposed chest gleams in the sunlight, almost with a glittering glow. I may have been upset with Cherum for speaking ill of sirens, but siren men really are the worst. They can use their beauty and charms to manipulate a woman, even without using their magic. They are called sirens for a reason, and not often referred to as mermen and mermaids. Their seductive qualities are a temptation to all weak-willed individuals who look upon them. Being bred from the ancient fae kind who are known for their beauty, and with succubus or incubus demons, master at manipulation and seduction, my pack does not trust them easily. Not with our wars with demon kind of the North. Other packs will form treati