There is a mysterious, beautiful siren said to live high in the mountains, a fae enchantress who rides a wild stallion into battle and can bewitch men with a word.
When the King stumbles into her clutches one fateful day, he is hopelessly smitten before being rescued by his loyal retainers. He demands she be brought to him, by any means.
Robin, a skilled and cocksure adventurer, accepts the challenge. But when he finds the Siren at last, and she turns her entrancing gaze upon him, he begins to wonder if he's in over his head... or if he even cares.
---
The siren hopped up onto a boulder and stared expectantly at the King, her lips curled in a smile.
"You followed me."
Her voice was throaty and musical. The hair rose on the back of his neck to hear it. He felt an unexpected desire start to burn the surface of his skin.
"I wanted," he felt suddenly breathless, "to thank you."
Black eyebrows shot up on her fair forehead.
"Did you?"
She began to approach him. Her dark eyes never left his as her muscled legs found their way down boulders and across the soft ground toward him. His loins stirred in anticipation as she approached, feeling very much like a hare before the wolf.
"I... You left so quickly," he stammered. "I owe you a debt."
She was almost on him now. He could smell the scent of fresh grass and cloves that clung tantalizingly to her. Her eyes smoldered.
"What can you offer me?" He felt a spark of indignation, knowing she was toying with him, but it was quenched as her slender-fingered hand lighted on his shoulder. She circled behind him. His skin burned as he felt her eyes move over him. He forced a swallow down his dry throat.
"I am your king," some strength returned to his voice. "I do not offer my thanks lightly."
"My king?" her voice rose in genuine interest. His breath hissed through his teeth as her fingers gripped tighter into his shoulders. "You are king of this land, then."
Her lithe arms moved slowly around his neck.
"Are you a just and strong king?" her breath felt hot on his ear. He inhaled audibly, shuddering with his sudden lust. Embarrassment burned into his cheeks, and she laughed low and light.
"So you are. A noble man always quivers."
