Siren of the Lake

Chapter 3: Duty and Honour

It happened just as fast as the screams appeared. No one spoke—everyone listened with sharpened ears for any hint of danger, some readied themselves for a threat, but none expected for two of the three boys to rush out of the bushes, utterly terrified.

They stumbled and continuously picked themselves up as they raced towards Damon, Ambrose and his father, checking behind them every so often for danger. There was no doubt about it; the sounds of their accelerated heart rates and widened eyes that darted back and forth showed how petrified they were. But that wasn't the most discerning part for Damon: it was the lack of the third body.

“Ambrose—Jereth!" the first boy exclaimed the closer he got. His voice was raspy, and his words were disjointed, breaking as he gasped for intermitted air. “We—the siren…" He collapsed with his hands falling to his knees.

Ambrose set a hand on the boy's back. “It's ok, take your time."

Damon couldn't believe how calm Ambrose was acting. A sighting of a creature that had been haunting their pack, as well as the surrounding area for over half a century has resurfaced—not only that, but the third boy missing was his son, Galen.

The first boy stood up again, taking one more breath. He was covered in dried mud and there were fresh scratches on his round face.

“Are you ok?" Ambrose asked. The boy nodded. “Ok, great. So, what's this about the siren? You saw her?"

The boy visibly swallowed. “We were hunting yesterday…you know, doing the usual rounds. There wasn't a lot in the area, so Galen mentioned that we push a bit farther and see if we can find something." He ran a shaking hand through his tangled hair. “I—I—don't know what happened. If we went off track and didn't notice, or if we—"

He stopped speaking and his eyes immediately cast down, not to look at Ambrose or Jereth as tears began to brim at their surface. “We ended up at this lake. Not the one we know about…a different one. It was—quiet. A little too quiet. Then we saw her. She tried to sing, and we covered our ears and ran, like you taught us—but Galen…"

“What of Galen?" Jereth piped up for the first time.

Despite his lack of speech, Damon noticed how his father had been silently and pensively absorbing the scene unfolding in front of him as Ambrose dictated the conversation. It was how he often reacted to large-scale threats—thoughtfully, and carefully. As he always reminded Damon, more can be done if you approach problems strategically than hastily.

“He—we looked back once we felt we were far enough away…once the song quietened. But when we did, he wasn't there." The boy turned to Ambrose. “I wanted to go back for him, I did!" he pleaded. “But she—if we did—"

Ambrose shushed the boy, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It's alright, Easton. We'll handle things from here. You and Dilan go home, take it easy and be with your families. You did good, kid." Easton and Dilan both nodded once more and followed the path to their respective houses; their heart rates slowing with each succinct breath.

Ambrose turned to Jereth and in an instant, his façade dropped, and Damon saw his true emotions spill out.

“My boy, Jereth," he said through gritted teeth. “She has my boy."

“And we'll get him back," Jereth replied.

“But what if he isn't—" Ambrose started, quickly finding himself unable to say it. Damon knew exactly what he was thinking because he was too. What if he isn't alive?

“Then we'll still bring him home. Either way, he is coming back to us, understood?"

Ambrose bowed his head, but the veins in his neck were starting to protrude. When he looked back up at Damon's father, his eyes were hardened.

“We need to plan this out—come up with a course of action. We can't just jump into something like this," Jereth continued.

“What do you propose we do?" Ambrose asked.

“I'm not sure. She's powerful; we know that. Anyone who gets too close is subjected to her song and if that happens, any operation is useless. We have to be smart about this. We can't risk the lives of our pack members."

“Is there anything to block out the sound?"

Jereth shook his head. “No. And even if there was, she would find some way to break it. No…this will have to be stealthy. We will have to get to her somehow, without her knowing."

“That's virtually impossible."

“Virtually—but not entirely," Jereth stated. “But for now, keep things as quiet as you can. The boys will tell their families, but it is our responsibility to not let anyone panic. Agreed?"

His eyes flickered between Ambrose and Damon, and both approved. His father was right—this would have to be under the radar. They would need to use the element of surprise to catch the siren off guard somehow, but the solution to that problem would be a lot harder to achieve with multiple bodies. The more people you have to worry about, the more you put yourself and your pack members at risk.

Damon watched as his father and Ambrose talked more, their voices fading completely into the background. His own brain brimmed with solutions, but he rejected one after the other, until finally, one stuck. It was stupid—he knew that much. But it was the only option left.

“Let me go. Alone," he said unexpectedly, catching his father and Ambrose completely off guard. Both men turned around, looking at him perplexed.

“What?" Jereth asked, leaning in slightly as he walked towards Damon, acting as if he may have misheard him.

“You said it needs to be stealthy. That won't be possible with more than one person. If one of us goes, we have more opportunities to take her down and get to Galen."

Jereth shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. I admire your determination, Damon. But no."

“Why not? You've seen me in training."

“Yes, which is precisely why I don't think you're ready to go alone. We'll send another group."

“And sacrifice more lives? Come on, Dad. You know that's not the move."

Damon looked to his father, who's eyes were strained and resolute. He wasn't agreeing with him, but he wasn't turning down the idea either.

“I need to do this," Damon exclaimed.

His mind filled with the pain and sorrow the siren had brought to Moonlight pack over the decades. First his grandfather and those boys, now Galen. Anger boiled inside of him as he remembered how deeply his father was affected by his grandfather's death, and how it still haunted him so long after. His life was destroyed and fast-tracked because of siren, and Damon wasn't going to let that happen to anyone ever again.

Jereth's gaze softened, knowing he had been defeated. “Okay," he stated. “You've got the job. We'll talk shop tonight." He wrapped his arms around Damon and gripped him tightly before backing up. He kept both hands on Damon's shoulders and observed him with a proud yet concerned glint in his eye. “You're going to be a d*mn fine Alpha one day. Just promise me you'll return to be one, alright?"

Damon softly chuckled. “I promise."

Jereth smiled gently and patted the side of his son's face with the utmost affection before meeting Ambrose and walking off into the town. Damon watched his father's figure get further and further, then disappear around a corner, and his face stiffened. There was no way he was returning to Moonlight—not without the head of the siren on the end of his knife.