Page 142 of The Hunted

THIRTY-FOUR

Eryx

“THIS IS THE worst storm so far this season.”

Eryx might as well have not bothered to say the words at all. Between the winds that screamed all around them on the high cliffs, the waves that crashed to the rocky ledge a hundred feet down below, and the haunting melody coming from his companion at his left, the words were lost.

If Poe heard him, she didn’t say.

Not that it mattered.

The storms no longer scared him.

The wind hit at their backs and then switched just as fast, coming in from the front. Then to the side, and around and around it went. He was sure if he could distinguish the clouds from the sky or the sea—it was a canvas of black—then he would see them rolling and circling to create the most dangerous part of the storms.

The tunnels that came down. Wicked, ravaging wind tunnels that sucked up everything it touched and destroyed anything on the land in mere seconds.

It was the only part of the storms that caused pause for Eryx, but at the moment, he didn’t have much of a choice but to be where he was … waiting.

“Are you cold?” he asked Poe.

She wore nothing but the thin gown the whorehouse had provided—or perhaps it was what she’d been given when they sent her away from the court. Either way, Poe didn’t respond to his concern or even acknowledge that he’d spoken at all.

In fact, she just kept singing.

That call …

It didn’t feel familiar in a way that he’d heard it before, but it still seemed as though the song she sang into the wind almost pulled him forward. And if her call made him want to answer it, somehow, then he could only imagine what it did for the people of the sea who would hear her song and know it.

At the moment, his own cloak was doing very little to battle the wind and rain. Soaked to the bone, and mildly cold already, he imagined she was no better.

She was, however, focused.

A grunt and the beat of hooves against wet rock had Eryx glancing over his shoulder. The horse who had done well in the storms the last few days was finally showing his edginess at the top of the cliffs overlooking the Blu Sea. Restless and jittery, the animal moved back and forth, already seeming like he wanted to leave.

Eryx needed him, though.

So, he’d tied the reins down to a small tree.

Turning back to the sea and the wind, Eryx breathed in. Slow and deep. Filling his lungs and then releasing the air with a low hum that started in the back of his throat. Instinct, he thought, because he’d never made a sound like that before.

“They’re coming,” Poe said, never looking away from the sea. “Look.”

He did.

It took him a second.

Then, two.

But against the sea of blackness, the color started to show. Flashes of silver, and slivers of green and blue. Fins cut through the surface of the water before they disappeared once more.

Poe let out a sigh.

It sounded like relief.

But also, of mourning.

He understood perfectly well because he felt the same. This was good for them. The sight of the mermaids coming to the land meant the plans he put in motion were working. At the same time, all he felt inside was pain from his mate being in limbo away from him.