by A. K. Koonce
“Syren, we are in public.”
I reach behind me unfastening the small buttons on my neck without his help. “You just said everyone is at my celebration.” Shimmying out of the red fabric, I try my best to keep the dress dry, but don’t succeed as the hem dips below the surface.
I toss my dress at him, standing in only my undergarments. He catches the fabric with ease but he seems to forget he’s holding it at all. Bear opens his mouth, but doesn’t speak. His sinful dark eyes travel down the length of my body, slowing at the curves of my chest and hips. The way his throat tightens I can visibly see him swallow hard. He fists the dress, carefully folds it before he rights himself and begins pulling his shirt over his head.
“I knew you had a fun bone in your body, somewhere.”
Like one. Probably just one. And I bet it’s broken.
Bear laughs. Unbuttoning his pants, he kicks out of them, standing in only his underwear. I try not to let my eyes travel down the frame of his body as he had done to me. But again, I’m unsuccessful. His chest is bronze and flawless, but I can’t help but think of the slashing scars along his back.
He’s handsome. Ruggedly handsome.
“Now what?” Bear shrugs.
“What do you mean? You’re absolutely ridiculous. Get in the water!” I shout. “Get in before you freeze to death.”
“That would be a first.” He takes his time stepping into the water, his eyes watching my hands as though he is waiting for me to raise the water and drown him on the spot.
The thought may have crossed my mind.
The hot water hits at my midthigh, splashing my underclothes. I run toward Bear splashing and laughing. Cupping my hands, I send a growing wave up and over Bear’s head. He sighs like he knew it was coming as he wipes the water out of his eyes. I dart past him and dive into the shallow water.
When I emerge, my blue hair is plastered to my head, strands falling out of the clip Aisha had placed in it earlier, and clumping along my face. I spit a stream of water out of my mouth toward the king, who still doesn’t move, but watches me with a smirk.
“I know you said you could drown me, but I haven't seen you do anything with your magic other than create whirlpools and waves.”
And so he calls me on my empty threats. I shove my insecurities down and use snark as my weapon instead.
“I haven't seen much from you either, other than your impressive wingspan. I mean average. It’s an average wingspan.”
He rolls his eyes at me, but he’s smiling.
“You don’t know how to do anything more, do you?” He juts his chin out, daring me to disagree with him.
“Watch this. I actually worked really, really hard on it.” My teeth sink into my lower lip in concentration. I bring both hands up and draw a face, then a body, into the water next to Bear. I throw my hands up higher, and a figure rises from the water like a giant. It’s made completely from the spring. The exact replica of Bear eyes him, just as intrigued as Bear appears to be by the twenty-foot-tall figure. He walks around it. My finger twitches and the exact image of him frowns and gives the king his own signature glare.
“That is not what I look like,” he grumbles.
“Oh, it most certainly is.” I release the Waterfall Iri with an unenthusiastic splash back into the water, my mind and body tiring slightly from the use of my magic.
“Why can’t you do anything else?”
I swallow hard and then I give in.
I tell him.
“Ol’ Daddy dearest,” I pick at imaginary thread on my shoulder. “He doesn’t think it’s important for women to use their magic in defense, or even worse, for offense. I—I’m just not very good to be honest. But I made up for it with other skills.”
“Do tell.” Bear lowers himself in the water, gradually floating closer to me.
“I trained with the guards behind his back.”
“Ah yes, the reason you were so goddessdamn hard to get a hold of on that island. They did a decent job.” Reaching out, he makes an attempt to tug on a strand of my hair, but I grab his hand, twisting his wrist and bending his slick palm back.
He grimaces, but simply picks my hand off of him. With my fingers still in his grasp, he spins me in the water. Or does he spin around me? He moves so fast, I hardly have time to think before his chest is pressing against my back. “I think you could still stand to learn a thing or two.”
Teach me, teach me, my excited ovaries chant.
I turn in his slick arms, looking up into his sparkling copper eyes. His lips part and he lowers his face closer to mine. He breathes me in, palms drifting lower and lower down my spine.
“I don’t think I like you, Bear,” I whisper against his all-too-near lips. Sparks burn between us everywhere his slick chest slides against mine. Without thinking, I tilt my chin, wondering what the taste of his mouth would be like. Would the kiss be as blessed as he is or wretched and cursed like this land?
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t fucking like you, either.” The air between us is so still but filled with the electric current of knowledge that if either of us dare to move even a fraction, we will be sealed together in a kiss.
Something moves in my peripheral vision and my breath catches.
“Syren Stormson. Where on the Goddess’s green earth are your clothes?”
Embarrassment stings my cheeks like it always does when he speaks to me. Bear tightens his grip on my waist as I slowly reply.
“Daddy. What are you doing here?”
Fourteen
Blessings and Bickerings
Syren
I exist some place between spoiled rich bitch and forgotten stepchild. Though at this exact moment, I feel like I’m mostly leaning toward frightened house mouse.
My father rarely catches me red-handed. Because when he does, he gives me good reason not to be caught again.
Standing on the steps of the embassy, my father frowns down at us, blinking his large round violet eyes. All my life, I wished for some way that I could deny he was my father, but the similarities are uncanny. Even down to his vivid blue hair tied back in a braid.
Bear trudges through the water. Moisture clings to him, weighing his trousers down. With composure I was unable to find, he steps out of the fountain, extending his arm to my father. They clasp each other’s forearms in greeting.
“I’m so glad you could join us, King Caspian.”
“Please,” my father nods with a growing grin, hiding his anger with a perfect mask, “We are about to be family. Caspian is fine.”
Attempting to regain some sort of poise, I close my gaping mouth, cross my arms over the sopping white clothing on my chest, and wearily follow Bear out of the spring water.
“Why are you here?” Nothing could keep the raw edge of anger out of my voice.
Bear cocks his head, watching the exchange.
“To welcome you out of banishment.” My father sighs and claps his hands together enthusiastically. “And to help Iri plan the party.”
“What party?”
Bear tenses at my question, the muscles in his jaw feathering as my father continues.
“The party wherein we announce your wedding, my girl.” My father reaches one hand out, fanning his fingers out and closing them into a fist. The water soaking me drains from my clothing, evaporating above our heads. “If you had been a boy, my life would have been so much easier, Syren.”
“If she had been a boy, I have a feeling this arrangement would be a lot less pleasant for me.” Bear says flatly.
My father doesn’t laugh.
“Lucky me that your kingdom needed saving.” My father reminds him. The smile is as fake as the makeup used on his mistress's face to make her appear attractive. It just doesn’t get the job done.
“Now, if you’ll be so kind as to put your clothing back on, we have some business to attend to.” With another word, he turns away and calmly climbs up the stone steps to the chapel.
Bear busies himself with dre
ssing. I stare at him as I slip my dress over my hips and pull the sleeves on.
“Why didn’t you tell me my father was here?” I ask without emotion.
“We have business to discuss. Though he is early.” Bear brushes it off, tying his hair back.
“Oh, my goddess.” Grinding my teeth, I lace my sandals. If the carriage is here, I can bum a first-class ride back to the castle and lock myself in that frilly prison of a room.
But it’s not. And whatever tour he was about to take me on is clearly canceled. Whatever he might have thought of doing with his sinful lips is thankfully canceled. I’m too impulsive for my own good.
I chase after Bear as he jogs up the steps, between the tall white columns, and through the open door. Everything in the embassy is burnished in gold. Metallic flecks of gold glint in the tan carpet, the walls covered in a gold floral wallpaper, and even the ceiling only exists as a bright shining auric slab.
A long table set for at least fifty people splits the room down the middle. At the end of the table, my father sits drumming his fingers impatiently. His face is already puckered like a tight asshole.
“King Caspian, while it is a pleasure to have you in my court, I was unaware that you would be arriving so early.” Bear drags out the chair directly across from my father and gives him a leveling stare.
My father, being the kind of man he is, returns the look with one equally cocky. I hover behind Bear’s chair, unsure if I should sit, stand, or run from the room. It’s already clear they’re about to turn into two arrogant gorillas pounding their chests to prove their power.
“There are urgent matters I thought we could discuss. Though I don’t think any of them need to be witnessed by my daughter.”
“Is it the matter of her dowry?” Bear leans back in his seat, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, that is one thing on the list.” My father glances at Bear, then at my burning red face.
I wish I could say that I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating than hearing this conversation between my family and my future husband, but this has been my life. A series of woeful tales. Never-ending overheard conversations between anyone listening and my father, who constantly had to unload the burden of his daughter. And when you’re a king, there are a lot of listening ears.
“No, I think Syren should stay and hear what you think she’s worth.” Bear lets out a low chuckle.
I can’t tell if Bear wants me to stay because he truly wants me to know, because he wants to defy my father, or if he just knows that I have nowhere else to go.
“Eight hundred talkens will be rewarded to your coffers once you have consummated the relationship.”
“Eight hundred talkens?” I gasp, stepping forward to grip the back of Bear’s chair. “Father, a herd of cattle is worth more than that! That price is utterly unreasonable. It’s . . . it’s outrageous and offensive, not only to me, but to the Northern Kingdom.”
“This marriage also comes with our alliance. Our ports will be open to all trade, our armies available for your protection, and the gift of assistance in lifting the curse that has fallen on your people.” He continues without acknowledging that I spoke. “Should you choose to consummate this relationship sooner than the wedding, with witness, the money and our agreement will be made readily available.”
Oh, my goddess. This is fucking awful.
“Father, don’t say that,” I whisper.
I may not be that vision of the perfect princess. I may not have saved myself for marriage or chosen to keep my distance from men who weren’t royalty. But my body is still my body, and the thought of giving it away to appease my father’s demands makes me want to vomit all over the lavish gold table.
Father’s large round eyes lazily roll back up to me. Any hope disappears that he thought of me other than as a pawn for the furtherment of his kingdom or a burden that needed to be shoved off.
“You have always been a careless little girl. No matter your age, you will waste your long life disobeying and causing people heartache. You can’t be trusted to uphold the demeanor and lifestyle of someone who carries your high fae blood. Soon you will not be my problem, but his.”
I’m already Bear’s problem. And he doesn’t have many more water fae princesses waiting for his proposal. He’s really stuck with me. Like in sickness and in health. Better or worse.
He’s fucked.
“You’re an asshole.” I bite my lip to keep my eyes from welling with tears. My jaw tenses, and I honestly don’t care what he does to me from here on out.
“But at least I am not useless.” He smiles with a careless chuckle, winking at Bear.
“One day, I will prove you wrong. And I pray you will rot in every toxic word you have spoken over me.” My lips curl with a dark smile that I know makes me look more like this man that I hate so much.
“You aren’t really persuading me to keep her. I have already found she may be more trouble than she is worth.” Bear’s words feel like a stab straight to my back. Or at least as if he pulled out the knife placed there by my father and then shoved it right back in and twisted.
My father grins, folding his hands on the table and leaning closer to Bear. “I’m not sure you have a choice. My advisors have told me that your people grow weary of the curse on this land. And since Syren is the last water fae with high fae blood available to marry, you’re just plain out of luck. Unless you want another lashing—this time from your own people rather than your father.”
“A lashing?” I ask.
The man at the end of the table looks my way with cruel eyes too similar to my own. “Bear won the crown of the Northern Kingdom after his father beat him bloody. Did he not tell you that? That he killed his own father just for a title.”
A strangling feeling twists my stomach, and I can’t look at the tragic dark eyes of the man glancing back at me now.
“Let’s keep to topic.” Bear’s voice lowers to a deep gravelly growl. It turns out my father can even strike the nerves of other kings. His apathy and his reckless disregard for other royalty knows no bounds.
“So you do the deed.” My father gives me an empty smile. “And I’ll transfer the funds.”
With a loud clap of his hands, he signals for the end of this burdensome conversation. “Now it’s just a matter of this party. Oh, oh . . .” He cups his ear. “You hear that?”
I hadn’t heard it a moment before, but now I listen. Outside the building, horse hooves clack against the ground, and the large wheels of a carriage approach.
“You’re right.” Bears says. “That’s our ride. We will be going, and I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could send Syren away, and we could continue our conversation.”
Bear pushes in his chair, tapping his finger against the wood as if considering the thought. Then he places a hand on my back and gently nudges me toward the door, staying at my side.
“Well considering this my kingdom and my time you’re wasting after interrupting the day I had planned with my beautiful betrothed, I’m going to regretfully decline.”
Even from a distance, I can see my father’s ears and cheeks redden with anger. Bear closes the door.
“Go, get in.” He jogs toward the carriage. “Hurry, before he sucks us into another excruciatingly painful conversation.”
I try to leave my frustration and confusion behind with my father, but anger still boils under my skin. Climbing into the carriage, I sit down and pretend to be utterly enthralled with the lacing on my skirt. For the remainder of the ride back to the castle, I don’t bother to acknowledge Bear. I hardly pay attention to the celebration made in my name or the people who wave as we pass. Everything feels different knowing my father is here. Knowing he would happily trade me off like cattle and would be rid of me before the marriage is even complete as long as Bear has witnesses.
We arrive at the castle steps, where a fresh pile of burning bodies burning casts its blazing emerald light over the courtyar
d. The coachman politely opens the door and offers his cold plump hand to assist me in my exit.
Bear didn’t question my silence or poke and prod me to speak. It looked as though he was immersed in his own thoughts.
Upon entering the castle, a long, loud, bell tolls. Similar to that of Goddess Nature’s bell, it chimes in my court to signal our prayers. In my kingdom, we prayed every other hour. Clearly, I lived in hell. I got down on my knees to pray to Goddess Nature more than a proper whore does to give blow jobs.
This bell rings, and it’s the first time I’ve heard it since arriving. It tolls once more. Servants scurry by, stopping what they were doing as if they weren’t prepared for their prayer time.
Bear grabs my hand in his and pulls me along. “Come on. We’re about to be late . . . and apparently so is half of our kingdom.”
Even if I want to go to the chapel, there is no way I would find my way there or back. The fact that this castle is an ever-changing maze only grinds against my nerves even more. If this is to be my home, I should be able to find my way through it. Or at the very least, if I truly wanted to escape, I should know how to get out of here—and I don’t.
A small crowd forms as we travel with the servants to the chapel. The hallway narrows, causing us to walk in pairs. I glance down at my fingers still held by Bear. Passersby would assume we are exactly as they want us: fated mates, deeply in love, and excited for our approaching wedding day. None of them have a clue that I want to peel the skin off of his fingers slowly before I spit in his face and walk away.
The tiny hall opens to a room with long rectangular pillows lined in neat rows down the length of it. Depictions of Goddess Celeste are carved into the walls behind the pulpit, which only holds a single white candle with a delicate flame.
Dressed in the same thick robes, the Chaplain waits solemnly, looking at the ground. Voices merge into a chaos of whispers that slowly die down to silence. Bear kneels on a long pillow and offers me the other side.
My knees hit the pillow, which is so under stuffed, it feels like I cracked them on the floor. I sigh, then meet Bear’s gaze.
