Return to the Deep

by P. Jameson

  He was hers as much as she was his. She wore his labradorite stone around her neck, his scales on her collarbone. It was unfair that anyone else could steal him away.

  Mine.

  But not if the lake called to him still.

  She blew out a breath, refusing to let the day be ruined with suspicion.

  “Let’s go,” she said, pulling his hand back to hers. “We don’t wanna be late. Doe and Mansen are waiting, and you know how he likes to speculate about all the reasons for our tardiness.”

  This brought a smirk to Huran’s lips. “He thinks we stop and fuck every thirteen steps, and that’s why we’re late. Little does he know… it’s almost true.”

  Christienne grinned, going up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Almost. We should start counting.”

  Huran took a step. “One…”

  ***

  I believe in you.

  The words rattled around in Huran’s head as they watched the vibrant parade ease through the center of Aurora Falls. His mate believed he would do the right thing and tell her the truth. It made him want to do exactly that.

  Like everything else about Aurora Falls, the annual Fall Festival was a tourist attraction extraordinaire, catering to the magical mermaid lore that people expected. The floats were made into glittering Mer-scales and decorated with colorful pumpkins. People wore fake tails that hung around their waste and females donned wigs of hair that fell to their ankles. Bubble machines were getting put to good use, the delicate iridescent balls floating here and there, according to the wind.

  This celebration of the approaching winter was one the entire town took part in, and his mate was no exception. The joy on her face as the procession passed made her look as innocent as a child.

  Huran couldn’t help thinking of his own people’s traditions. Back on the homeland, they celebrated the Feast of Mabon… or the Fallfeast. It was a time of honoring the dead and displaying gratitude for a successful harvest. It was the last hurrah before the Old Gods sent the hard, cold winter to test the people’s endurance. There was music and dancing and mead aplenty. If he focused very hard, he could even remember the scent of apples that hung in the air. The apples were Arne’s favorite part of Fallfeast.

  Mansen of Ragalen who stood beside him, leaned in. “Jase tells me you still have a fin. That true?” It was so like the Mer to cut right to the chase. Mating hadn’t changed his bluntness in the least.

  “Jase needs to mind his own business.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Huran watched Christienne. She was enraptured by the celebration, not listening to the two warriors speak. Good. He was going to tell her. He’d already made up his mind. But he sure as hell didn’t want her to find out from fucking Mansen.

  “Any idea why that might be?” The man continued. “I’d sure like to know if I should expect any new scales to appear.”

  “I have my theories. None involve you, so… fuck off.”

  Huran knew his link to Arne was what kept him bound to the lake, even if he was reluctant to admit it.

  Mansen chuckled. “Fuck off. Mmm, I believe that’s what you told me the night we were cursed. You remember that night, don’t you?”

  “You know I do.”

  He’d held Arne for hours, praying to the gods to bring him back. He’d held his son until Mansen approached, insisting something must be done with the body. Together, they’d buried Arne under the sapphire fields, and never spoke of him again. No one did. Once a warrior was buried you only remembered them at the appropriate times. During the Mabon.

  Except that wasn’t the case for Huran. He thought of his son daily. Daily for hundreds of years.

  Mansen was silent while a troop of horseback riders came by, tossing small candies into the crowd. Huran watched Christienne bend to retrieve one from the ground. She turned to him with a smile. “Chocolate,” she explained gleefully.

  Damn, he loved her. Could she see it in the way he looked at her?

  Her gaze softened for a moment before she turned back to the parade.

  “Doe says your mate is with child,” Mansen murmured. “I bet that scares the shit out of you.”

  Huran glared at him. “What’s with you? Are you looking to brawl?”

  Mansen raised one eyebrow as if considering it. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good rumble. But… naw. The ladies wouldn’t appreciate us disrupting the celebrations.”

  Huran tried to ignore him as a new float came into view.

  “It’s just that…” Mansen shifted closer. “If it were my mate, I’d be fucking terrified.” He shook his head. “Bringing a little one into this world that we know so little about. It isn’t like it was before the curse. All we know is what we’ve gleaned from our repeated three day land-cycles and what our mates have taught us. There is no need to train our young with swords and daggers these days. No reason to teach them how to hunt or kill or skin or sail or tend their armor.”

  It was true. Things were so different from before. With Arne, he hadn’t done enough to prepare him for what could happen on a raid. It cost him everything. This time keeping his family safe seemed to have a whole new meaning.

  This time, he needed to guard their hearts. Starting with Christienne’s.

  “Mabon is for remembering, Huran, but it’s also for preparing for new challenges.”

  “I know what Mabon is.”

  Mansen nodded, staring out over the crowd. “Good.”

  Huran let his eyes close and breathed in the crisp air. Something powerful hummed in his veins and for a moment, he thought he recognized the feel of magic. Tamsin.

  You’ve been given a gift. A second chance. Don’t waste it, warrior.

  Huran opened his eyes to stare at his mate. Her hand rested on her belly and her smile seemed like it would be permanent.

  She was a gift. She believed in him.

  And in her belly was his second chance at a family.

  Don’t waste it.

  He knew what had to be done.

  He had to be honest with his mate about Arne. The sooner the better.

  Chapter Eight

  It was nearly dark as Christienne leaned against the doorway of her and Huran’s cabin waiting for him to unlock the door. Giving it a shove, he guided her inside before stepping back out to grab all the bags of goodies they’d attained from the festival.

  She’d found plenty of cute mer-baby things to add to the small collection she kept in the corner of the living room. Today, she found a bib that glittered blue and purple, with the words I’m Mer-mazing. It would go well with the Mermaid in Training onesie if the baby was a girl or the Mer-manly one if the baby was a boy.

  Christienne grinned at the thought of a little Mer boy running around on two legs, Huran chasing him.

  Acquiring baby things gave her a sense of security somehow. This was really happening. She was really going to hold a little one in her arms in just six short months.

  The door swung open as Huran returned. He dropped the armful of bags at her feet. “Your loot, milady.” He bowed with a mock flourish and then sank to the couch beside her, taking her hand in his. “How do you feel?”

  “Good,” she said. “I feel good.”

  “You look good,” he murmured. “That thing they say about pregnant females glowing is real.”

  “Hm. Doe said the same thing earlier.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth, dropping a kiss on the back before looking around their small cabin. “What do you think we should do with all this stuff?”

  “I suspect we’ll need some more room before the baby gets here.”

  He frowned. “I think you’re right, snuppa. There isn’t nearly enough room as it is. Especially when he starts to go mobile, he’ll need space to crawl and tumble.”

  She laughed. “That won’t happen for months.”

  “Yes, but we should be prepared.”

  He sounded as if he’d done this before. So sure. Was he secre
tly reading one of those pregnancy books about what to expect? A warm feeling wrapped around her heart at the idea. Huran was going to be an amazing father.

  He turned his gaze to her at that moment, opening his mouth to say something, but he stopped, his eyes filling with desire until it practically seeped from him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that, snuppa?”

  “Like what?” Christienne bit down on her lip to keep from grinning.

  “Like…” His breath caught in his throat. “Like you love me beyond belief.”

  She eased closer. “Because I do.”

  He brushed the hair back from her cheeks, his eyes digging into hers. “Do you see that when I look at you? Is it that easy?”

  Christienne swallowed hard. “I see it now.”

  In this moment, it was hard to remember why she had ever doubted him. It was just too damn easy to forget that she wasn’t the most important thing to him anymore. That she shared his attention with something or someone else. When he looked at her like he did now… she didn’t even want to know what it was.

  “Show me more,” she whispered, desperate for proof of his love. Desperate to feel their bond, broken as it was.

  Huran’s lips crushed hers in a brutal kiss as he lifted her off the couch. She kissed him back, wrapping her legs around his waist while he walked them to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed and stepped back to yank his shirt over his head. She watched every move, every flex of his muscles, as he undid his belt and let his jeans fall to the floor. His thick erection sprang free, bobbing at his hips, and she pressed her thighs together to ease the burning ache at her core. She was already slick for him.

  She needed this so badly.

  Huran gripped her waistband, pulling her pants and underwear down in one swift move while she lifted her own shirt over her head. All that was left was her bra, and he hooked one finger around the strip of fabric that connected the overflowing cups—thank you pregnancy hormones—using it to pull her up to his lips. His tongue dove in, tangling with hers as their desperation grew to nuclear levels.

  When she thought she couldn’t take anymore of his mouth, when she was shaking from just his kiss, he moved away, travelling downward with his tongue leading the way.

  “Huran,” she breathed, and even to her own ears, it sounded like a prayer. She needed him to know how crucial he was. Whatever was between them, it had to end. They were supposed to be one, and she wouldn’t—couldn’t—give up until they were.

  He nipped the curve of her breast where it bulged from her bra and then using his teeth, he peeled back the cup, trying to go slow.

  But he was just as impatient as she was.

  With a soft growl, he went up on his knees, both hands making quick work of stripping her bra away. He tossed it over his shoulder and his eyes went to her chest, growing so hot she almost thought she could see flames.

  “Snuppa…” He looked nearly crazed. As if they’d been separated too long and this was their reunion. “I will feast on you, woman, and then take you under me. Hard. Make you feel so much. Make you feel what I feel when I look at you. Will you try to stop me?”

  “Never,” she promised.

  He looked satisfied with her answer as he wrapped his hands around her thighs and jerked her closer to his mouth. He spread her wide, exposing the parts of her that were only for him. And with his eyes glued to hers, he kissed her there. Soft at first taste, then carnal.

  Wild. Hungry.

  A warrior claiming what was his all over again.

  And no matter what happened in the future, whether the lake still called to him or not, one thing would always be true. For better or worse, she was his.

  ***

  Huran watched his mate as he laved her pussy, starved for her taste, her scent. He wanted her down his throat, in his veins, in his every exhale. Because he’d made a decision. Tonight, he was putting the past to rest. Finally.

  Mansen was right. Mabon had come, and it was time to move forward. Time to accept the darkness of his past and equalize it with the brightness of the future.

  But first, he would repair the fracture in his mating bond.

  He gave one last lick up her silky slit, drawing a gasp from her when he tongued her cleft. Her thighs shook and her eyes went half-mast. She was close.

  Huran knelt between her knees, stroking his stiff cock once, twice. Gods, he ached for her. But even more so, he ached for things to be right between them. Soon enough, they would.

  He lined up at her opening, running his cock through her wetness. She jerked her hips, trying to force him in, but he wanted her eyes first.

  “Look at me, Christy.”

  She obeyed, her desperate gaze finding his.

  “Watch me as I enter you,” he demanded. “Look at me when we become one.”

  She nodded, her teeth coming down hard on her lower lip.

  With her agreement secured, he eased between her folds, feeling her pussy squeeze him tightly with each measured progression. And the way her hands tangled in his hair, pulling with the pressure of taking him deep within.

  “Ah. Fuck.” He hissed at the delicious contact. He dropped to one elbow feeling weak from pleasure. He kissed her jaw, working up a whisper. “You feel so good, precious snuppa.”

  He flicked his hips, escaping from her hold for a breath of a second before slamming back in. He wanted her to feel his need, his strength. His love, the only way he knew how to give it.

  Christienne moaned with his efforts and he could feel her sheath tightening on his cock. He would come in time with her, give her soft body his entire release.

  “Christy… my sweet, Christy…” He braced their bodies with one arm and gripped her jaw with the other, forcing her to keep eye contact as he thrust away. “You are mine,” he rasped. “But this… this is ours. This connection, this bond? Nothing will ever take it away. I need you to know that.”

  Her eyes went wet, filling with tears that he couldn’t stop. “Yes. This is ours.”

  “I’ve waited too many years for you, for this. For love, snuppa…” He dragged his cock from her body and pushed in again. “… to lose you now. I can’t…” Thrust. “I won’t…” The pleasure in his groin exploded when she cried out, her release fluttering all around him like angry butterflies. Her body held him in a vice, but he powered through, thrusting until he was completely spent.

  Huran kissed the trails her tears made on her cheeks until they quit appearing, taking each salty spear into his heart. Never again would he hurt his beloved like this.

  Never again.

  Eventually, he pulled from her body and gathered her in his arms. She nestled into his chest and for the moment, things were right.

  Chapter Nine

  Christienne was dreaming, tossed back in history once again to the night of Tamsin’s storm. She floated above the water, watching the cursed warriors fumble with their new fins. There was much confusion and chaos. People screamed to the skies, cursing the witch who did this to them. Many would disappear from sight and return with handfuls of stones, as if they intended to keep the treasures just as soon as they dispensed with those pesky tails.

  They had no idea how long they were doomed to live in the water.

  Christienne scanned the surface of the lake, looking for her Mer, but Huran was nowhere to be found.

  From her vantage point, she could see most of the crooks and crevices of Sapphire Lake, and she took to paying closer attention to those. He had to be here somewhere. Eventually, she found him near what was now called the North Shore.

  Going still, she watched her man. But there was an odd gray glow around him. As if… as if part of the picture was missing again. Like before when she dreamed of him on the ship. She squinted, trying to see things clearer, but no matter what, the discolored smear didn’t resolve.

  Frustrated, she focused on Huran’s expression instead. His hair was longer and it hung low, covering half of his face. Through the strands, she could see his brow crea
sed with sorrow. He murmured sayings that made no sense to her. Something in another language.

  Her mate was upset. She wanted to comfort him.

  No sooner did she think it than she found herself in the water, drifting with the waves several feet from him.

  “Huran?”

  His gaze snapped to her and he looked angry. “Christy, you can’t be here. I told you!” He twisted so his back was to her and the gray blur he held close went with him. “You must leave.”

  “I don’t want to leave. I—”

  “Leave,” he roared. “You can’t be here. Can’t see this.”

  Can’t see this. Whatever the blur hid. Whoever it hid.

  Christienne blinked, determined not to cry. “You’re upset. Let’s talk.”

  “Talking won’t help.”

  “I think it will.”

  Silence stretched between them, seconds ticking away.

  “The lake is dangerous,” he ground out. “Especially for you. You cannot be here—”

  “I’m not.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, still very protective of whatever he held. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not here. Not really. It’s a dream.”

  “A…” His frown deepened. “A nightmare.”

  “Yes.” She inched closer, stretching her hand out to his back. But he moved, taking his blur with him.

  “We’ve been here before,” he said.

  “Yes. I think Tamsin has sent us these dreams to help.”

  Disgust twisted his handsome face into something gruesome. “Tamsin has betrayed us all!” He flicked his tail out of the water and brought it down with a splash that soaked her.

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was just her imagination running wild. Huran recognized her but at the same time, he seemed lodged in the happenings of the past. Something about this night…

  Huran blinked, looking confused. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. It’s just water. I’m fine.”

  “Mate…” The word was so full of guilt and despair. She didn’t want to hear him like this.