Sing Me to Sleep
Gabi BurtonEn Eski Sing Me to Sleep Gönderileri
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As a siren, I’ve always been able to feel emotions. Some are basic: sadness feels heavy and cold; happiness is light and warm. Some are more complex: bitterness is sharp like a sting, hot like a flame, and persistent like a bad cold. I can block out the way emotions feel against my skin, but when they’re strong, I can’t turn off the way they taste.
Sirens were made to kill. Our purpose is to lure, seduce, and destroy. It’s wrong, and I know it’s wrong, but that knowledge does nothing to ease the feeling of euphoria—of complete and utter bliss—when I lead a man astray.
The horrifying truth: I’m as drawn to water as men are to me. When I near it, it speaks to me. Urges me to act. Kill. The call of the water is as fierce as it is deadly. My own personal Siren Song.
The thought loosens my shoulders, and I take my first normal breath since entering the room. When I look at him—really look at him—I see him for what he is. It doesn’t matter how uncannily perfect he is. He’s a Royal. The Royals are shrouded in beauty, but it’s all to mask the fact that they’re the reason behind everything I hate.
His smile is charming. He is charming. And apparently, he doesn’t want to punish me for initially declining his offer.
Taken at face value, it makes for a lovely portrait. But I know better. Prince Hayes is a Royal. More important, he’s a means to an end—a mark. And one of my most important rules: never call a mark by name.
We have no blood in common, no shared parentage, and we are completely different species, but from the moment I met her, she was my sister. Mine to care for, mine to love, and mine to protect. From all threats.
Prince Hayes Finnean Vanihail is full of warmth and excitement and energy and he’s so, so beautiful . . .