“That’s hardly my problem,” I say. “I want the green one.”

“Well, you can’t have it. I’m tossing it over the edge of the railing.”

“Come now, Riden. That’s hardly fair.”

“You’re a prisoner. Nothing’s supposed to be fair for you.”

Fine, I will have to make do with the purple corset, but I can’t help but tease Riden a bit first. “Are you sure there’s not something more at work here, Riden?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you’re acting like a jealous husband.”

“A what?”

“You know, men that women shackle themselves onto.”

“Yes, I know what a husband is.” He clenches his fists and glares at me. He’s awfully handsome when he’s angry. “There is nothing to be jealous of.”

“So you’re saying that if I were to wear that top, it would in no way affect you personally?”

“Not at all.”

“Then there’s no problem with me wearing it, is there? Give it to me.”

He clenches his teeth. “No.”

I suppose I will have to rely more on body language, but I think it can be done. With some men, I can catch their attention in a potato sack.

Draxen seems smart. Smart enough to realize if I’m trying too hard. This will have to be done very carefully.

“Fine. Leave so I can change. Or will you be unable to handle knowing I’ll be naked in your room?”

I’m baiting him, and he knows it. I’m impressed he manages another glare before slamming the door.

With expert fingers, I lace on the top and attach the sleeves. They curve out into points above my shoulders. I put on the hood as well. If I end up doing anything too embarrassing, it might be nice to have something to hide my face behind.

Riden did indeed bring me underthings. I try not to think about the fact that he touched them while I slip on the rest of my clean clothes. It’s amazing what a new outfit can do for my spirits.

I emerge from Riden’s room a new woman—free of snark, attitude, and morals. Everything I assume Draxen is attracted to.

Time to play.

I’ve spent so much time around pirates that I’ve adopted my own sort of swagger, but that is not my natural inclination when I walk. Sirens are creatures of grace and beauty. They’re more driven by instinct than learning and habits. I tap into that side of me, that place that I usually hide.

I suppose I don’t really need the green top.

In this form, I can sense exactly what men want. And I can be that for them in order to get what I want. They can’t hide their emotions from me. Each one swirls around them in a haze of color.

Each step on the deck is soft and graceful. My movements are fragile and angelic. My face is devoid of the intelligence lurking in my mind or the thieving force that drives me. I can feel each fragment of the wind as it slides along my skin. I can feel the salt in the air. I can feel each strand of hair on my head, sense the movements of those around me.

Sirens are creatures whose sole existence depends on enchanting men. I can switch over to that nature effortlessly, but I loathe it. I don’t feel like myself.

I live on the cusp of two worlds, trying desperately to fit into one.

Heads turn as I exit Riden’s quarters. I pretend not to notice. “Where would you like me?” I ask Riden. My voice has softened, taking on an almost musical tone. But I’m not enchanting anyone with my voice. I can’t control more than three at a time. It wouldn’t do me any good on a ship with so many men, even if I had enough song in me. Probably shouldn’t have put so much into Riden the other night, but I couldn’t resist once I’d started.

Riden’s mouth drops open after I speak. He looks at me as though he’s never seen me before. In a way, I suppose he hasn’t. My appearance hasn’t changed at all, only the way I hold myself. The way I act, speak, move. I’ve taken on my siren nature, and while I look the same, the men can still tell something is different, and it piques their interest.

“What’s going on? Why has everyone stopped—” Draxen now looks my way. For a moment he is caught like everyone else. I lock eyes with him. Showing my interest in the subtlest of ways. He shakes his head as though catching himself out of some sort of daze. “Get back to work or there will be lashings for everyone. Riden, what is she doing on my deck?”

Riden, too, shakes himself out of the momentary stupor. “She’s opted to work on the deck rather than rot in my quarters. I think she’s getting a bit restless, Captain.”

Draxen eyes me carefully. I give him a gentle smile that makes him swallow before speaking. “Did the chains make you change your mind, then, princess?”

“Yes, Captain.” No sarcasm. Just sincerity. And innocence. Submissiveness. I try not to cringe as the word enters my mind. Horrid word, that one. But it is what I must be if this is to work. For my father, I’m willing to become everything that I hate.

Riden and Draxen both pause as though they’re waiting for me to say more. Ah, they’re waiting for the smart comment that is sure to follow. Let them wait. Siren Alosa is the promise of a man’s fantasy. Right now I’m tuned into Draxen, trying to become his.

Riden turns to Draxen as though he will have some sort of answer for my behavior. If I weren’t so in tune with my role, I would laugh.

Draxen is seeing me anew. He sees my weakness as his strength. I am something to be dominated. Something to be controlled. Draxen likes corrupting innocence. I’m hardly innocent. I’ve killed far too many men to ever be thought of as that, but it’s all about perception.

A light red of interest hangs over the captain’s shoulders. It’s battling with the orange of indifference. Good.

And Riden—I turn toward him, reading his desires. He is not nearly as captivated by this form. Riden likes a challenge. He likes games. I’m not nearly as compelling for him like this. Interesting. Might make the deception more difficult, though. Currently, he’s surrounded by blue. Blue is confusion.

I’ve spent years trying to understand the meanings of the colors I see. I’ve had to ask pirates what they’re feeling when I’m like this, so I can associate words with what I see. It’s difficult, because people are less inclined to talk when they’re deep in emotion. But I’ve managed to fill in the gaps.