Aria: A Reverse Fairy Tale Romance Series (The Happily Never After Series Book 3)

by Plum Pascal

  Hook seizes the headless body and hurls it into the path of another oncoming eel. The limp creature slams into its fellow, slowing it for just an instant so that Hook can catch up with the rest of us.

  There’s only one way out that I can think of, and it’s just as dangerous, if not more so, than facing the eels. But at least I know what to expect in the direction we’re facing. I’ll take the monsters I know over the ones I don’t every time.

  I dive for the trench.

  We’re two miles up from Opeia’s main holdings, but I know this terrain well enough to navigate my way through. It’s best we don’t drag the new threat of these monstrous eels to her door, so I turn the opposite direction.

  “Where are we going?” Aria bleats, coming alive in my arms again when we plunge into the dark.

  I push pulsing golden color into my hair once more, exuding as much light as I can so the others will have an easier time following me. Aria cottons on to what I’m doing and pushes that lovely magenta color into her own hair, in an attempt to do the same. The humans will need the light with which to navigate the darkness of our destination, even if we’ll draw undue attention to ourselves. The neon color will attract every predator within a mile radius but, again, I know what lives in these depths. I don’t know what the eels are or who sent them or how powerful they truly are.

  Of course, I’ve seen what they’ve done to their prey—boiled them. That’s a fate I don’t wish to meet.

  “The eels run hot, so I believe the cold should slow them,” I huff, dragging her down as fast as I can. We’re covering an incredible distance. I’ve never pushed my body this hard before, and I can feel the exhaustion beginning to claim me. I can’t keep this speed up for much longer. “And I think we can lose them in the gyre.”

  Aria bucks once in shock, successfully escaping my hold. I don’t let her go far, locking firmly onto her wrist and keeping us moving downward. A quick glance up shows the remainder of our party has entered the trenches now. They aren’t far behind us. I’m relieved to see the suits have some sort of lighting system of their own. Magic or mundane, I can’t tell. I only hope the brightness of the suits will allow the users to see for long enough to reach our destination.

  “We can’t go down there!” Aria snaps. “Bastion, that’s suicide!”

  The gyre that runs beneath Opeia’s kingdom is a swift and deadly current that runs about eight meters wide and loops around the trenches, spitting whatever’s inside it out and around the trench nearest Triton’s castle. From there, we’d have only an hour’s journey to reach the back entrance of the castle. We could sneak in and make our way to the throne room and the glass case that holds Poseidon’s trident. Without Sen and his guards to alert Triton that we’ve breached his perimeter, this plan could work.

  The reason I didn’t suggest it on the surface? It’s the most imbecilic course we could possibly take. If the pressure or cold doesn’t kill the remaining humans, the grotesquerie might. Many of its smaller members ride the current, kept away from Aspamia only by the scepter Triton wields. We have no such advantage. We could easily be eaten by a goblin shark or batted from the steam by a kraken’s tentacle, only to be shoved into its maw.

  But we have no other choice. Either die by eel or trust our luck in the gyre. “It’s a risk we must take, Princess,” I counter.

  “Bastion, we won’t survive.”

  “What else can we do?” I demand. “Stay above the reefs? The eels are too fast and too powerful to evade for long. They’ll burn every one of us to a crisp.”

  “Maybe we could outswim them.”

  I shake my head. “You saw what they did to our men,” I insist. “Until we understand how and what those eels truly are, I’d rather face the monsters I know how to defeat.”

  Without a good counter-argument, Aria falls silent. Her eyes are still huge in her face and most of the color has fled her cheeks, leaving them ashy gray instead of luminous silver. Her green markings stand out prominently under the magenta halo of her hair.

  If we don’t survive this and my last image is of her lovely face, I will die contented.

  But I won’t allow myself to ponder such morose thoughts just yet. We still have to try, and try we will.

  We pause just long enough that Aria’s able to link arms with one of the humans. It’s Hook, I realize with a scowl. Of course, the fucker manages to reach her first. Just like always. I’m truly beginning to loathe him. Aria hooks her arm securely around his, clinging to us both like we’re a tether to life itself. It does warm me just a little to note that she clings just as tightly to me as she does to him.

  Kassidy has a hold on Leith, who clings to one of his cousins. Andric brings up the rear, clutching with white knuckles onto the quiet, pensive bear. I believe his name is Sorren.

  “What’s the bloody plan, mate?” Hook asks as he turns to face me. He’s shivering already, which is not a good sign. The deep is about to get much colder.

  I can’t see them yet, but I feel the approach of the smallest members of the grotesquerie, drawn to the light of our hair and the lights of the suits like the lure of an angler. We don’t have much time.

  “Three miles down, there’s a gyre that will take us through the trenches and deposit us near Triton’s castle.”

  “Verra well, then,” Hook says and glances down.

  “It’s not as simple as that,” I start, grabbing his attention once more. “The problem is the gyre’s surrounded by members of the grotesquerie. Sharks, anglers, mundane but still deadly eels, and more. And then, there’s the possibility of running into krakens. I wouldn’t normally propose we do such a dangerous thing, but...”

  I glance pointedly toward the distant light above. The eels have paused at the edge of the trench, swarming like insects above us. Hook looks pale beneath the bronzed cast of his skin.

  “Aye, the eels are a problem, mate. An’ ye think this gyre will be any better?”

  “It’s better than the only other option facing us—and that’s them,” I say, gesturing at the swarming black shadows of monster eels.

  “Aye, I’d rather take me chances with the gyre,” Hook agrees.

  I nod. “We can’t give up now. Opeia can’t hold the grotesquerie inside the trenches for much longer. Triton has to be defeated, and Kassidy is the best chance we have to put Aria or Opeia on the throne. Traveling the reefs isn’t an option, clearly, so...”

  “So, we risk it all for a chance to live?” Leith finishes grimly. “Sounds familiar.”

  He shares a secret smile with Kassidy and his cousins. I’ll ask the meaning behind that dry remark later. If there is a later.

  “It’s your choice,” I say simply to Aria, before glancing up once more at the light above us.

  “What is yer belief?” Hook asks, and I’m surprised he’s asking for my opinion.

  “I’d take my chance with a kraken. At least the poison’s quick and relatively painless, if the brutes don’t snap your spine first.”

  Hook frowns.

  “A ringing endorsement if I’ve ever heard one,” Kassidy drawls. “But Bastion’s right. I don’t see what choice we have, and traveling the gyre may get us that much closer to our goal.”

  “Then it’s decided,” I say with a clipped nod. “Everyone enter the gyre and try to stay behind us. If you aren’t able just meet at the back entrance to Triton’s castle, but stay hidden.”

  Aria faces me and nods, giving me an encouraging smile. “Lead the way, Bastion.”

  I pump my tail, dragging Aria behind me and, with her, the line of humans and shifters. It reminds me oddly of a human game I saw on the surface, one in which a child strung together a series of small toy animals, linking them by their arms and tails until they appeared as a long string. I’m not certain what the point of the game was.

  We descend quickly.

  I’m correct in my assessment. There are hundreds of anglers waiting below, weaving this way and that so their lures look like bobbing fireflies. T
he humans behind us suck in shocked breaths as the cold begins to penetrate even their thick suits. Andric and Hook, without their suits, will fare even worse, but we can’t stop to cater to their comfort. The only way we’ll escape this nightmare is if we do things quickly.

  Shrieks sound around us as the anglers rush us from all sides. One particularly large female sinks her teeth into my elbow and I’m helpless to bat her away, lest I lose my grip on Aria. Thankfully, Aria has the presence of mind to send a bolt of yellow-green energy at the thing, sending it spiraling away into the darkness. Some of the teeth are still lodged in the crook of my arm, but there’s no time to pull them free. It’s probably best I don’t in any case—my blood would attract the goblin sharks.

  The magic Aria just performed is a trick Opeia taught her, but not one she’s particularly adept at. Aria’s magic is better suited to healing and illusions; she doesn’t have the energy to produce many bolts of light energy.

  More shadows loom in the dark and I push myself as fast as I can, Aria doing the same behind me. The pressure of the dive is beginning to make my temples throb and I fear I might end up disgorging my last meal. Adrenaline shoots violently into my veins when the bellow of an aggressive, territorial male kraken vibrates the air around us.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  It’s a big one, I can tell by the timbre of the cry. It’s got a mate tucked away somewhere, and possibly an infant or two along with her.

  “Bastion,” Aria almost squeaks, the quiver in her voice spearing me more effectively than any harpoon.

  She’s frightened. Gods, I don’t know the last time I’ve seen her frightened. Upset, angry, indignant, and mutinous, but never afraid.

  Not my Aria.

  “I’ve got you, Princess,” I say, using her grip on my arm to draw her even closer.

  Fuck it. I might as well take the opportunity, because there’s a high probability we’re all going to die soon. I turn, pausing my stroke for an instant so I can cup her face with my free hand and press my lips to hers.

  Her lips are warm.

  So incredibly warm, it feels like a brand against my mouth. I don’t draw away, though. I want to savor this feeling. I want to take the taste of her with me into the beyond if I perish in the next few minutes.

  With a gasp, she wrenches herself free of me. “Not now, Bastion,” she says. “Once we survive this.” Then, she turns and paddles urgently toward the gyre below. It’s very near now—its roar is almost louder than the kraken’s, at this proximity.

  It’s impossible to miss, a streak of byzantine purple against the pitch dark of the deep. There are more shapes inside it, being whipped quickly out of sight. I draw in a deep breath and hurl myself inside, dragging the others in after me.

  The instant the current snags my body, I’m jerked forward with incredible speed, tumbled end over end like dice in a cup. Just up ahead, the tentacle of the male kraken shears through the current before us, the beast’s roar rattling my bones.

  Closing my eyes, I brace for impact.

  EIGHTEEN

  ARIA

  The kraken’s tentacle misses its mark, just barely, and doesn’t crack our skulls open like velvety turtle eggs. Instead, the scything tentacle comes down hard between Hook and me. I release my hold on him the second I realize what’s happening, pushing him away in an effort to save his arm from being pulverized. I’m not sure if I succeed, because the next instant, the current whips me away from him.

  Releasing Hook—and the rest of our party—significantly reduces our weight, flinging Bastion and me with still greater velocity along the turbulent gyre. I can only hope Hook hasn’t just had his arm severed. I can’t stand to be the reason he loses another limb. If I ever meet the mysterious Pan who mutilated him, I’ll hold him beneath the waves until he’s good and waterlogged before I let him breathe again. And then I’ll kill him.

  If I live, that is. That’s the tricky bit.

  Most of the creatures within the gyre are moving alongside us, as helpless to control their motion as we are. There are some exceptionally strong swimmers, though, like the bluntnose shark up ahead. Though Bastion tries to avoid it, we go careening toward the speeding shark and smack right into it. Broadside, thankfully. If we’d made contact with its many rows of teeth, that would have been the end of us both. As it is, the contact still scrapes my arms raw and sends blood fountaining into the water. The shark adjusts its course as it picks up the scent, fathomless black eyes fixed eagerly on new prey.

  Worse, it nearly knocks me loose from Bastion’s grip. I cling onto him tenaciously, wrapping myself so tightly around him, I almost become a second skin. His arms wind even more securely around my body, anchoring me to him. I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for my steadfast and patient friend and guard than I am now. I don’t see how it took me so long and so many near-death experiences to appreciate him.

  He’s been unswervingly loyal to me, even through the apparent betrayals of his trust with Hook and Andric. Though nothing was ever agreed upon in our childhood, I’ve always somehow known Bastion was mine. My shield, my confidant, my friend… and maybe, someday, my lover? And that’s when all the white lies I’ve told myself tumble to the forefront, revealing the naked truth.

  I love Bastion.

  I’ve always loved him, but I took him for granted because he was always there. But, yes, I love him, and I believe that love rivals the love I feel for Hook. And I love Bastion more than I love Andric, though the gentle prince continues to grow on me. My affection for him is still blooming.

  But Bastion? He’s deeply rooted within me, as crucial to me as an arm or a leg. I know he’d willingly step in front of one of the monsters we’ve faced, above and below, to save my life because he loves me just as deeply.

  I hope it never, ever comes to that.

  I keep my eyes trained over Bastion’s shoulder, tracking the bluntnose as it continues to spiral through the gyre after us. There’s no sign of the others and I realize they must be far behind us.

  The gyre moves quickly and should spit us out within the next few minutes. But will we all survive that long? I’m loath to dim my hair, in case the others are still able to see it and, in seeing it, follow it, but I don’t have much choice. I’m drawing every predator in the area to our position.

  “Princess,” Bastion starts. “If we don’t make it out of this… I want you to know...”

  He extinguishes the light of his hair, as well.

  Darkness slides over my eyes and I blink against the sudden lack of light as I draw myself as close to him as I can possibly manage. So close I can feel his heartbeat against my breasts. My nipples tingle invitingly as they drag across his chest, the contours of his body cut finely. Gods, I wish to have more time with him.

  I feel so incredibly stupid that it took this—moments before our possible death—for me to understand just how much this incredible man means to me.

  But, better late than never.

  “I know, Bastion,” I say. “I love you, too.”

  He looks at me in shock. “You do?”

  I nod. “I always have.”

  Bastion isn’t given the chance to respond because the gyre roars loudly around us and we cling to each other as tightly as we can to avoid being separated and lost. After another few seconds, it’s over. We’re catapulted violently out of the stream and into a soft mound of... something. I’m almost afraid to see what we’ve landed on. If it’s the head of a kraken, we’re truly fucked.

  Open your eyes, Aria, I instruct myself sternly. How can you expect to face Triton if you can’t even face what’s in front of you?

  Sometimes, I hate it when I’m right.

  I force myself to direct my gaze downward and inspect what I’m lying on and regret it almost instantly.

  It is a kraken. A very young, very dead one. The mottled colors indicate late stages of decay. We’re lucky the skin held up under our impact, or we’d be wading through its putrefying insides. The rest of the mo
und is composed of more dead bodies, mostly small members of the grotesquerie who were unfortunate enough to be swept into the gyre and thrashed to death.

  I look around myself and realize we’re nowhere near the rear entrance to my father’s castle. The gyre has booted us out either early or late, I’m not sure which. Now it will simply be a matter of finding our way back to the castle, where we will hopefully meet the others.

  “Aria,” Bastion says as he pulls away from me and inspects me, “are you hurt?”

  “No,” I say as I look back up at him and smile with relief.

  “What you said,” he starts.

  I nod. “I meant it.”

  “Then… you love me, too?” He seems confused, almost as though he doesn’t believe he heard me correctly.

  It’s then that I realize how important this moment is—to both of us. Granted, we need to get moving so we can meet the others at the castle entrance, but I decide to take another few moments to make sure Bastion understands what he means to me. Especially in case either one of us, or both of us, don’t survive…

  “Mark me, Bastion.”

  He hesitates for a few seconds but then obediently drops his head and presses his lips to my throat. Magic pulses from his mouth into my skin, searing into me with a sensation so pleasant, my back arches of its own accord and my hair lights involuntarily.

  I will have to choose between Andric and Hook at some point. I know that. Only one of them can bear my mark forever. And I already know what my answer is, what my actions will be. If we survive this quest, I’ll release Andric. We’re to be tied in marriage, and that will be enough. If I can somehow convince Hook to stay with me, if such is even possible, I want him to bear my mark as my mate.

  Meanwhile, Bastion has marked me as irrevocably his. His chosen. His mate. And I’ll bear his mark proudly. We’ll all be tied to each other, in some way or another. The thought makes joy bubble through my veins, even as I wonder if Hook will ever agree to be with me… knowing I’ll have to marry Andric.