by Frankie Love
Sleep overtakes me quickly and it's a sweet relief. My body aches from dragging him from the sea, back from the shore to my cottage. And it feels good to rest soundly. His body is so close to mine, I feel his heartbeat and even though our bodies aren’t touching now, I feel connected to the stranger, a man whose name I don't even know.
I didn't dare ask, but oh, how I wanted to, wanted to know everything about him. How have I never seen him in these woods before? Why have I never seen him in the town? A stranger — a shifter — who arrived as if out of thin air, who was willing to save me when he thought I’d drowned, dead like Alessandra.
I sigh out these thoughts as I fall asleep. And for hours I'm lost, not in a dream, but in just a heavy, thick sleep that I need. When I turn in the bed, a man's arm is draped over me.
And that man is facing me, kissing me.
My lips press against his lips. My legs are entwined with his.
Desire dripping from my body, from my core, places I've never explored but always dreamed of. I'm in the arms of a stranger.
He kisses me and I kiss him back. And I realize I'm not sleeping, that this is not a dream. I feel a thickness against my belly, and a whimper escapes my mouth. My eyes open.
It's him. He's real.
He pulls back. "Oh fuck," he says, his voice more a growl than anything. He rakes his hand through his hair. “Oh fuck, Cordelia.”
I blink, taking it in, trying to piece together what is happening, and then I remember crawling into bed, sleeping so soundly, and knowing that sometime throughout the night, our bodies moved together.
His lips found mine, or maybe my lips found his. I press my fingertips to them now, swollen. "Oh," I say, "I'm sorry I..."
"Don't apologize," he says, cupping my cheek with his hand. "Don't apologize, ever.”
I exhale slowly, wondering who he is, not even knowing his name, but knowing enough. He is a bear shifter and I am a selkie, and we've come from different places. We may share the same territory, but our homes are very different. Mine is the sea and his is the woods. And this stolen kiss is just that, something forbidden.
"You're perfect," he tells me, "so fucking perfect." His eyes reach deep inside of mine, and I swear, he sees my soul, but maybe not because if he did, I don't think he'd like it. He'd see sadness and anger. He'd see a girl who lost a person she loved and who doubts she'll ever recover.
If he looked that deep inside of me, he'd see a woman wanting to shake off the shackles her father has bound her with, but isn't brave enough to try. If he looked deep inside me, he'd see a friend who has no one to care for, who's lost her other half.
If he looked deep inside me, I don't think he'd want to kiss me like that again. He'd think I was broken and bruised beyond repair. He'd be right.
"I'm not perfect," I tell him. "I'm sorry. Last night I came into the bed. I was so tired and..."
"Don't apologize to me," he tells me again.
I roll away from him, getting out of the bed, not trusting myself to stay here, this close to him, wanting and needing two very different things. Wanting to protect my heart, and needing to give it to someone.
Not just someone. Him.
I felt it the moment I saw him. A man who can never be mine. A bear shifter.
I get out of bed, wrapping my shawl around me, feeling exposed even though my nightgown covers nearly every inch of my skin. "I don't even know your name," I say, walking toward the kitchen. I reach for the kettle, filling it with water and turning on the flame beneath it. Then I root around the kitchen, wanting to get him another dose of medicine.
I bring a fresh spoon toward him and pour the elixir out. "You need to take another dose," I tell him. "It will help with the pain. It will help heal you faster."
He grunts, "I don't want to sleep like that again."
"Why?" I ask. "The sleep is good for you."
"That much sleep?" he asks. “I never sleep like that."
"A full night's rest, that's not something you usually get?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "No, not in a long while."
I swallow. "Me neither," I say. "I'll get in bed thinking I'm so tired. And then I lie awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, wishing I could drift to sleep, but it's this battle my body is having with my mind, and it's so annoying."
He chuckles, sitting up in bed. "I understand that completely. It wasn't always like that for me," he tells me. "I used to be a good sleeper, but..." His words trail off. The way he called out for Jacob is the same way I cry for Alessandra. Our hearts know the same pain.
“Regardless,” I say, "you need to take this. I stitched up the cut on the base of your skull, but I don't want you to get an infection."
"This is an antibiotic?" he asks.
"Close enough."
He does what I ask, taking the medicine. His stomach growls and I smile, pressing my lips together.
"I can fix you something to eat, though I haven’t gone shopping all week and there aren’t a lot of options,” I tell him. “But I'm glad to know you have an appetite. I was worried, yesterday you looked so..."
"Fucked up?" he asks. "I am," he says, flexing his muscles and looking at his arms, his chest. He has cuts and bruises all over. "I still don't understand how you got me here."
"I told you I had some help." I don't add anything more to clarify and instead, I begin to make a pot of oats, pulling out sweet cream and sugar, dried currants from a jar on the counter. If I explain that I am a selkie, he might leave right away. Everyone in the Badlands knows I am off limits — that my father forbids me to be with any man who wasn’t born in the sea.
I make him tea, and I make myself a cup too, knowing this meal might very well be our last together.
But God, how I want things to be different.
I carry it all to the table and ask if he's up for sitting or if he’d rather eat in bed. He gives me a slight grin that makes my belly flip-flop. A smile like that, it's dangerous.
"I'll eat in bed if you'll join me," he says, patting the blanket beside him.
How good would it feel to enjoy the pleasure of his words? But instantly, I’m hating myself for thinking that. My best friend can't enjoy a man so why should I?
I shake my head. "I really shouldn't," I say, setting the food on the table.
"You don't trust yourself?" he asks.
I lick my lips, sitting down at the table, opposite where I've laid out his food. I reach for my teacup. "Maybe I don't trust you. And after that kiss…"
“Sounds about right," he says, pulling a chair out, "considering you don't even know my name. I'm Calder, by the way," he tells me as he reaches for a spoon, stirring his oatmeal before taking a big bite. "Calder Growly.”
I say, "Are you new in town?"
He nods. "Just under a month. I bought a cabin out by Fairhaven Ridge.”
"It's beautiful out there," I say. He was a long way from his cabin if he was going on foot, I think, before biting my lip. A shifter can move quickly through the woods, just like I can through the sea. "I don't get out to Fairhaven often. Though, in the early spring, they have the most beautiful huckleberries in that forest. I usually go out there to collect them."
He nods. "Yeah. There's plenty of huckleberry bushes on my property. Next year, you should come out and I can help you." He gives me a soft, slow smile, and I return it. Maybe it was the kiss, maybe it was the way it felt to have his body pressed to mine, or maybe it’s the instant connection I felt for him when I found him in the water.
“So, what do you do with all this stuff, anyways?" Calder asks, looking around my cottage. There are shelves, floor to ceiling, filled with everything the forest and the sea can offer. Dried fruits and berries and seaweed, groundnuts and barks and kelp, mushrooms and syrups.
“Anything you can find in the Badlands Territory, I’ve managed to bottle up and preserve for remedies. I have a shop in town, Twilight Herbs Apothecary.”
“That’s incredible," he says. “You must know this land
like the back of your hand.”
I nod. "I do. I grew up here. Lived here all my life."
“The ocean views at this cottage are gorgeous,” he adds. “Do you ever go swimming out there?”
“A bit,” I tell him, wanting to explain that I am the Sea Lord’s daughter. A princess to the sea. But if I do that he will realize quickly that the two of us don’t stand a chance.
I want to pretend, for now, that I am not betrothed to another man. Because the truth is, I have never wanted to marry Fjord, never wanted to rule any part of the sea.
I just want to be free.
We eat our food quietly, but I take in his movements, the way his muscles move as he eats. His surprise when he sips the tea, realizing how sweet it is.
“What?” he asks when he notices me staring at him.
I look away, but only for a moment. Because in truth, I want to memorize every part of him.
“I feel like I’ve known you a very long time,” I admit. “Is that strange to say?”
He runs a hand over his beard, and I think about the kiss we shared. Think how what I really want in this moment is another.
“Cordelia, it isn’t strange at all because I feel the exact same way.”
Cordelia
I want to stay with Calder — a man who I just met yet feel connected to in a way that I don’t understand.
Alessandra was forever telling me I was too innocent, too naive, inexperienced — and maybe she was right.
I wish she was still alive so I could run down the beach right now to her cove. I’d call for her and she’d emerge from the water. Glittering like always, shifting from her mermaid form into that of a long-legged best friend who has lavender hair and a penchant for sour candy. I’d tell her all about Calder, brought back to life with my elixir, and she would drop her mouth open in shock, amazed at the fact I took such an unexpected risk. Incredulous over the fact I went against my father’s wishes and allowed a man into my cottage.
Now, thinking of Father, I know I must leave. I am already late for our weekly chat. Pushing back from the breakfast table, I tell Calder he needs more rest, that I need to run an errand and then I will drive him back to his cabin.
“No, I can go now,” he says, standing, but he braces himself with the back of the wooden chair and he lets his shoulders fall. “But maybe I should stay. For just a few hours. I feel worn out from that meal.”
“You were in really bad shape yesterday,” I tell him, walking over to the bed and straightening out the pillows and sheets. I fold the quilt back for him to slide under and he is already half asleep by the time I slip out the front door, undressing behind the cottage before running to the water’s edge.
The ocean is before me and I quicken my pace, knowing Father hates it when I am late. When I reach the shore, I step into the waves until they cover me. Then I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting the water fill my lungs. That is when my body changes shape, when my legs turn to a short, slippery tail and my arms turn into flippers. I blink, taking in the ocean, and move quickly toward my father’s cove.
The swim isn’t long, and I pass Fjord’s friends, women who have never been kind to me. Alessandra always said they were simply jealous. Now, though, I’m sure she was just trying to save my feelings. They smirk at me as I pass them, and I wish the sea were a less hostile place.
“Have you heard the news?” one of them coos.
I don’t stop and answer. Clearly if there is news, I haven’t heard it. I haven’t been back to the ocean for nearly two weeks. Unless you count me passing through last night, which I don’t.
Fjord has been out fighting in the Dark Seas for months now, and I wonder if they know something of him. My heart tightens at the thought.
The sea is a dangerous place, which is why I wanted to leave so badly in the first place. Sea monsters come too close to our territory and attack, and the brutal carnage has taken so many lives of those I love. That is why I embraced my human form and started a life on land.
But once I moved to my cottage two years ago, I learned that the sea isn’t the only dangerous place.
The land is too. After all, it took Alessandra from me.
My father allowed me to leave, to sow my wild oats, as he called it — so long as when I marry, I return to the ocean to take my rightful place as princess.
Now, knowing there is some news awaiting me, I swim faster.
“My love,” my father says when I emerge, shifting to human form to greet him. When I shift on the rock, my body becomes wrapped in seaweed, covering me. We are tucked away from the coast, on a private cove under a cliff. There is a crown of coral on his head, his long hair whipping in the wind, looking majestic like the Sea Lord he is.
“Father,” I say, bowing my head, curtseying to him in honor.
“You’re late.” His voice is clipped, but he doesn’t look angry.
“I’m sorry. I had a long night.”
He waves it off, uncharacteristically. “No bother, you are here now, and my love, I have big news.”
“News?” I swallow, suddenly nervous about whatever he might say next.
“It is time, Cordelia. And it’s all been arranged. You will marry Fjord at the end of the month. Before the Blood Moon.”
“No,” I say, stepping away from him. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean, can’t?” He laughs. “You’ve been betrothed to him for years, we were only waiting on him to win the battle in the Dark Seas. He has returned victorious. And the feast to celebrate is tomorrow. You will be there, and your wedding date will be announced.”
“But I can’t… I won’t… I…”
Anger flashes in my father’s eyes. And I hate disappointing him, but I can’t marry Fjord. He is cold and callous, and not in a way I understand. When we spend time together, he always manages to hold my hand too tightly, to explain, explicitly, what he plans on doing our wedding night — to me. He looks at me like I am his to devour.
“I have been patient with you, Cordelia. Given you ample room to play, but now you must do your duty for our people.”
“But what if they aren’t my people?” I ask. “What if—”
“You will listen!” he shouts and tears fall down my cheeks, having never seen my father so angry with me.
“I met someone,” I say. It’s the truth. I met someone who kissed me as the sun swept in, someone who kissed me and saw the parts of me I wanted to hide, someone who kissed me and whose lips felt familiar, as if I’d known him all my life.
“You will not dishonor me.” As his emotions rise up, his anger stretches past his fingertips, and he points his trident to the sky, lightning cracking and rain falling, his power sending a wild current through the sky and sea.
“Stop,” I shout. “Please.”
He ignores me, and I watch as birds fall from the sky, shocked by the current of electricity directed toward them.
“The birds,” I cry. “Stop, let them be,” I beg.
Finally, he relents, turning to me as the sky settles, the waves in the ocean calming. “You will be there tomorrow, come hell or high water.”
Then he dives into the ocean, the waves hiding him from me.
I don’t follow. Instead, I look up at the rocky cliff surrounding me, and start to climb.
Calder
I wake from a deep sleep, and am surprised to realize only a few hours have passed. It felt like a year. Like I’d been in hibernation, waiting out the winter.
My stomach growls, and this time I know I need more than oats and honey. I stand, feeling much more like myself, and walk to the small bathroom, washing my face in the basin, noticing a salve on the counter with a small note beside it.
Calder,
Use the salve on your cuts, and the arnica balm on the bruises.
-C
Her handwriting is a sweeping cursive that suits her, gentle, rolling like a wave. I think of the way her body pressed against mine as we slept, finding comfort in one another in a
way I never have before.
My brother and I were close, best friends — but I’ve never had a partner, a woman to share my life with.
I’ve always been waiting for my mate.
The wait is over, I can feel it.
Cordelia is not only beautiful; she has a sadness about her that makes me want to reach out and wrap my arms around her, protect her from the storms of life.
The kiss was everything, and God, I don’t know where it came from — the depths of our slumber, our subconscious desire — and hell, my cock was hard when I woke, finding her lips on mine, our bodies entwined.
I wish we’d done more — everything.
But we will.
I know it as surely as I know myself.
I clean myself up, wishing I had more clothing to change into, and then consider the food in the house. I look in the fridge and cupboards, and she has some vegetables and grains, but nothing that tempts me. Starving, I walk outside, growling when I see her car is still here. Was her errand on foot?
I need to thank her for all she has done for me, but I also have no intention of leaving her cottage anytime soon. I may be much better than I was last night, but it’s not my physical body I am worried about. It’s my heart.
Because my God, she already has it. But does she want it?
My skin feels tight and I have the desire to run through the woods. My emotions are wreaking havoc on my mind. So I walk to the backside of the house, willing my body to shift. My borrowed pants fall to the ground and my body becomes that of a bear.
The moment my paws hit the ground, I start running, taking in the fresh scent of the forest after a heavy rainfall. The ferns and ground cover are wet, rain droplets falling from the boughs of pine trees as I run through.
I never explore this region, so close to the ocean, and soon I find myself retracing my steps from last night, before I fell in my attempt to save Cordelia, who apparently didn’t need my saving.
