by Plum Pascal
“Up,” Bastion orders, getting a grip on my underarms and hauling me toward the distant lights of the surface before I can argue. “We have to find our way back to the castle.”
After we breach the trench, I feel myself crumble. I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally. But every foot we ascend toward the surface thaws my frozen limbs and injects life into my body. I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful to be near the surface than I am now.
It’s not until we come to a stop that I realize I’m still shaking. Violent tremors run from the crown of my head to my tailfins. I can’t stop, and I don’t recognize the sound that comes out of my mouth. It sounds like a cry.
Bastion adjusts his grip on me and presses me into his chest. It’s a lot like how Hook holds me when water leaks out of my eyes, which feels strange in this body. Merfolk aren’t usually this close to each other without mating taking place.
“I’m here, Aria,” Bastion soothes, running one rough hand down the curve of my spine like he’s stroking a dolphin’s back. “Calm down, Aria. I’m here. It’s all right.”
“Nothing is all right!” I shriek as the realization hits me that no one has followed us out of the gyre and that we’re far away from where we’re supposed to be. I keep looking back into the pitch blackness, for some sign of their glowing suits, but I don’t see… anything. “They could all be dead.”
“Or the gyre spit them out where it was supposed to,” Bastion argues with a shrug. “Maybe we simply missed the opening, leading to the castle?”
I barely hear his response and it certainly doesn’t penetrate. I can only wonder what’s happened to the rest of them—if the spiraling corkscrew of water has killed them, or perhaps the shark or some equally unsavory creature.
“I’m leading you all into a killing field,” I say with a shake of my head as the realization of what’s happening weighs down on me. “There’s no way I can defeat Triton. Even with Kassidy on our side, it’s fucking hopeless! If Kassidy is even still alive,” I finish in a softer voice as I continue to scan the periphery.
“You can defeat your father, and you will,” Bastion says, hands coming to rest on my biceps so he can still my shaking body. “I believe that.”
“I’m not a sea witch like Opeia. I couldn’t protect myself when my father cast me out years ago. I couldn’t even fend off Sen. If Andric hadn’t killed him, I’d have been raped and then Sen would have killed me. I’m not as good a fighter as you, Bastion. And I’m nowhere near as strong as you are.”
“I see greatness in you, Aria. I remember your first lessons with Opeia. You have power—power that you’re too frightened to wield, because you’re afraid it’s going to turn you into him. But you are not your father! You never will be. You have too much heart.”
“It’s all a moot point, anyway,” I say in despair.
“The others will emerge where they were supposed to,” he says softly. “And we’ll face down your father together. And we will be victorious.”
“What if they’re dead?” I ask as I continue to stare into the void. What if the kraken crushed Hook? What if the bluntnose got them?
Bastion seizes my face in both hands again and kisses me. It was pleasant when he did it on shore. It’s somehow... more pleasant now. I can’t place my finger on the difference at first. He feels similar, though there’s an added thrill of having his heavy, muscular tail brushing along the length of mine. It’s something I never thought to experience like this. We don’t mate with our mouths, the way humans do. Occasionally, a depraved strumpet hanging around the coves will offer to lick a man’s glans with her tongue, but good sirens don’t and most mermen don’t ask.
The kiss is better because Bastion finally seems certain. On land, he’d been almost reverential in his dealings with me, a man in the presence of a goddess. Now, with his mate mark seared into my flesh, he finally seems willing to push aside propriety and take what is rightfully his. And honestly? I’ve never found him more attractive.
“They survived, Aria,” he says.
I shake my head. “You don’t know that.”
“They’re strong and they’re able, and I know the gyre didn’t defeat them. Right before it spat us out, I could see all of them.”
I gasp as he grips me, rubbing my breasts against his chest. I’m unusually aware of them these days. Perhaps I’m beginning to understand why humans find them so appealing. Face to face with a partner, the way the humans do it, they become quite sensitive.
“I love you, Aria,” Bastion says when he pulls away from me, holding me at arm’s length “For so long as the seas beat the shores, that will be my only truth.”
If I were human, that statement would make me weep. Gods, I’m the most myopic mermaid alive if I’ve missed the adoration he’s plainly held for me for so long.
“And I love you,” I tell him, though it probably rings false, coming at this eleventh hour.
The smile that graces his face at those words is like dawn breaking over the horizon. Too beautiful for words. It breaks something in me. Then I’m throwing myself into his arms again, kissing him with all the vigor my exhausted body can muster. I want him, want to have him before the soreness and weariness steal my desire. We don’t have long and, for all I know, we may be the only ones left to face Triton. This could very well prove to be a suicide mission.
“Mate with me,” I murmur against his mouth when I draw away again.
His eyes widen, just a fraction. “Princess...”
“Call me Aria, please,” I say as I lift a hand to stroke the mark on my neck. It tingles pleasantly on contact. “I’m wearing your mark, Bastion. I’m your mate. You can call me by my name.”
“Aria,” he says, choking out my name with difficulty. “I... I would never dare to presume...”
“It’s not presumption. I’m asking. I want to be with you, to experience… love with you.”
“The others are waiting for us,” he argues.
“I know but we sacrifice a few more minutes for the chance to… know one another this way.” I pause for a moment. “We might not ever be given the chance again,” I finish, hoping I don’t sound too morose.
He’s so close, his groan vibrates my front, sending electric sensation zinging through my nipples. It’s enough to draw a small, echoing groan from me, as well.
“Gods, Aria, of course I want to experience mating with you. It’s all I’ve wanted since I’ve been old enough to understand what I was feeling.”
“Then why are you hesitating?”
“Because I know you love Hook. I still don’t trust him, but I’m not blind. I know you want to be with him. And you have to be with Andric if we all survive this. There’s no room for me, Aria.”
“There’s room if I say there is,” I chide him, sliding my fingers into his hair.
It lights up at once, diffusing golden light into the water around us. Not as noticeable here as it was in the deeps, but it’s still beautiful. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft moan.
“Andric will be my king,” I murmur. “I wish it were different but that’s the nature of our situation. Hook is my mate, because I chose him, and I’m yours. But there’s a good chance Hook chooses not to stay, Bastion.”
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t want me to marry Andric and I might not be able to change his mind. Regardless, I love you and I love Hook. Both can be true at the same time.”
“And Andric?”
“Is brave, kind, and selfless, and I’m sure someday I’ll feel the same way for him.”
“Then you can never be just mine?”
I shake my head and feel guilt to the depths of my soul. But I have to be honest. I have to tell him the truth. “I’m sorry, but I can’t just be yours, Bastion.”
He lets out a gusty sigh and the bubbles stir my hair in a pleasant, ticklish rush.
“The truth is that I know that. I’ve known since we stepped foot on land and I realized Hook existed.” H
e’s quiet for a moment. “And… I can live with it. I can share you, if they can share you.”
“You can?”
He nods. “I’m sorry for being selfish. Can you forgive me?”
“Only if you can forgive me for the same.” I grin up at him coyly.
His eyes gleam with something primal and triumphant, and my glans begins to throb in response. I’m sure he can scent my desire. Gods, I can’t believe this is really happening. Finally.
“I wanted to try human rutting,” he admits, tracing his thumb along my bottom lip. “You seemed to enjoy it when Hook pressed into you. And human protuberances are different than...”
He gestures vaguely down at himself. I take a good look and am a little shocked. His glans is larger than most males I’ve seen, almost disproportionate in relation to his body size. Sen’s was only average, even though he was massive. His friends’ glans were even smaller. But Bastion’s has contours that are smooth and inviting. I have the brief, taboo urge to trace it with my tongue, the way I had with Andric’s cock in his vision.
Thoughts of Andric give me an idea as I reach for Bastion, running my fingers along the rounded nub. Gods, but he’s huge. I didn’t know male glans could get this large. Will he even be able to part my slit?
Bastion shudders violently beneath my touch, his glans pulsing against my fingers. He’s warm and slick and I curiously trail my fingers through that secretion. No seed yet, but it’s still fascinating.
“There’s a way we could do both,” I murmur again, swirling my finger around the nub. His body bucks, tail lashing almost violently against mine.
“How?”
“Illusion spell,” I answer as I look up at him. “Do you want it?”
“Yes,” he groans.
Then his mouth is on mine, his fingers threading into my hair and stroking with such incredible precision, my back arches and my body threatens to spasm into a violent orgasm already. He’s clearly done this before. I wonder which of Opeia’s handmaids he’s been fucking over the years to be so good. Irrational jealousy sears through my veins, chasing away some of the ecstasy of his touch.
I regret the feeling almost immediately. After all, I’ve been focused anywhere but on Bastion. He’s as much as admitted he never planned to tell me of his true feelings. If our circumstances had remained unchanged, he’d likely have fucked a few children into the maid and carried on, keeping his feelings from me for the rest of our days. I can’t fault him for having a lover before me. Or many.
And what if he wants a lover after me? It’s wrong of me to tell him no. After all, I’m planning to take all three of my men. But my instinctive reaction is to try to hide him away so no other woman can touch him. Bastion is mine; I won’t let another have him.
Bastion scrapes the nails of one hand over my scalp and brings the other up to weigh one of my breasts in his hands, the way Hook often does. He pinches the nipple to a taut peak and then twists it gently. The slight pulse of pain tips me over the edge and he swallows the scream of pure pleasure when I buck into him. He grins against my mouth, pure, masculine confidence etched into that smile.
He’s so sexy when he’s domineering like this. If we survive this mission, I want to see this side of Bastion more. Much more.
“Illusion spell, Aria,” he reminds me.
Right. Yes.
I press my fingers into his biceps, focusing the meager amount of magic I possess into him. I’ve been told I have more magic, and perhaps he’s right. I’ve never truly applied myself to the arcane arts Opeia tried to teach me. I’ve seen what absolute power has done to Triton and I never want to be like him. It’s probably why I’ve avoided having sex for so long, why I’ve shrugged off magicks that weren’t entirely essential to my survival and tried to remain as honest with myself and others as possible.
Bastion is right. I don’t want to be anything like my father.
But this spell is harmless, meant to ease the sick or dying into death with minimal discomfort. Our dead so rarely see final rest. It’s too perilous to haul them to the surface for a Shepherd or Shepherdess to guide them to the other side. Most of our dead reside in Opeia’s home, restless souls appeased only by the illusions we provide for them. Illusions of a better life, where Triton doesn’t rule.
I intend to make that dream a reality, if enough of us survive to carry out the plan. For now, I want Bastion. I want the feel of him pressing against me, the illusion of him deep inside me.
The reef around us disappears, fading away into the illusion of Cassio Island, with its pristine white shore. It’s far away from the metal buildings with their array of death-dealing implements. In the vision, Bastion’s body hovers over mine, long, lean and nude.
I take a moment to appreciate just how beautiful he is in this form. Though his protuberance—or cock, as Hook calls it—is strange looking, I already know it provides great pleasure. There’s a sort of artful beauty to the way the male human body is constructed. Bastion’s hipbones are cut at a strong angle, his thighs are sturdy, his skin smooth. He lays thick and heavy between my legs.
I smile and roll my hips just a little, pushing against him in both reality and illusion. His cock throbs against me and he groans, tangling his hand in my hair once more, rocking his hips into me. This isn’t the ideal position if we’re going to join in real life, but for now, the sensation of his hands in my hair is enough to coax me toward another orgasm.
My hips jerk up in surprise when he slides a finger into me. Not so strange in the human form, as Hook has done it often enough. But in my siren form? Never. Even I don’t often touch myself there.
Bastion’s fingers curl inside my slit, stroke along my walls, and explore me. It’s enough to make me arch into him with a moan as a climax rips through me. He hasn’t even put his glans against me yet and I’m already so dizzy with pleasure, I can barely keep the illusion up.
This is incredible.
I can’t wait to feel him pressed against me, spilling his seed inside me.
“Bastion...” I pant. “Oh, Gods...”
“You’re so beautiful, Princess...” Bastion growls against my throat, slipping back into the formal address out of habit. I don’t correct him. At this moment, I don’t care what he calls me.
“Please. Inside me, Bastion, please...”
And then, both in illusion and reality, he flips me, spinning me in the sand so I’m on my knees. And in reality, who knows? I’m probably pressed into a rock or flattened beneath his bulk. Perhaps he’s tied me in the kelp and plans to ride me until we buckle from exhaustion.
I shiver. Gods, if he isn’t doing that at the moment, he should. If we make it out alive, I’m going to command it.
It’s mere seconds before he’s there, back bowed over mine, his sex pushing against me. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. The illusion of his cock filling me steals my breath and the reality of his glans on me has my entire tail tingling. He’s so big. I’m not sure I can take it. I arch my back and moan, trying to adjust to the new sensation. It jostles my breasts, which are so damn sensitive. I might just explode from the sensation of the water on them. I knew they weren’t just for nursing young, but no one told me they were so sensitive during copulation—that a man touching them could only aid my pleasure.
Bastion palms one yet again, lavishing attention on it even as he begins to move. When he thrusts into me, I think I might weep. It’s so good. How have I gone all my life without having this? How idiotic am I, to have overlooked him? We could have been doing this for years.
“If we make it out alive, you are fucking me every day,” I pant, struggling hard to vocalize past the pleasure. It’s interspersed by a few moans.
Bastion’s rolling chuckle causes me to clench tight. It’s a thick, velvety sound. Bastion’s laughs are rare; my poor, solemn friend and guard has had little to be joyful about in the years since we left Aspamia. Even the few chuckles I’ve coaxed out of him aren’t like this. He’s unguarded for the first time in
years and it makes me want to kiss him. Hard to do, in the position we’re in, and even if we could, I wouldn’t want him breaking pace because, Gods, this is delicious.
“I will worship your quim every day, if we survive, my Queen. Don’t you doubt it.”
He drives into me as vigorously as he can, kissing me, stroking my hair, tweaking my nipples all in quick succession until I cum again in a blinding wave of ecstasy, screaming so loudly I fear everyone will hear it all the way to Triton’s castle.
Finally, Bastion sags as well, spilling himself deep inside me. The illusion flickers and dies, letting reality creep back in increments. I’m half-bent over a stone, posed like one of those sirens in the Drowning Cove, as if I’m trying to coyly lure in a sailor. Bastion’s weight is still behind me, his tail curled around mine.
He kisses my throat softly, tenderly, worshiping my flesh, just as he promised. “Are you with me, Aria?” he murmurs against the shell of my ear.
An aftershock of pleasure riots through me but I nod, too overcome to search out words. I feel rather than see his smile.
“Good. Rest for a moment and then we need to be off. We have friends to find and two kingdoms to save.”
He’s right. Things aren’t over, and we’re not safe. There’s every chance this mission will get us killed. And if I have to take a memory into the great oceans beyond, this is the one I’d like to live in.
I straighten, test my tail a few times. I’m pleasantly sore. He’s big. That will take getting used to.
“Let’s go.”
NINETEEN
ARIA
It takes longer than I feel it should to find our way back to the castle. Dangerous as the journey through the gyre was, it brought us that much closer to our goal. The only thing between us and the rear entrance to the castle is Andromeda’s garden—and that’s a more daunting challenge than one might think.
Hidden among the more benign species of kelp, waterwheel, and coral is a number of enormous caro comedenti. They’re the only species of sea anemone I’ve ever seen that devours not only other plants, but fish and even merpeople, as well. They aren’t large enough to eat a full-grown siren or human, but they can take out a large enough chunk to cause blood to billow into the water, drawing any of Andromeda’s pet sharks to the spot in an instant.
