by May Sage
The island was her hideout; from what she’d understood, no one was supposed to be able to find it, yet there were three Melusines in front of her.
Silvia wondered what had happened to make them fall on the floor, but as seconds stretched, she got that they weren’t actually curled up in pain, or anything.
They were kneeling. At her feet.
Ok, that was weird. No one knelt anymore. Subjects curtsied and bowed, sometimes, but kneeling was the sort of thing one did to gods, not royalty.
“Speak,” she told them, shocked by her own voice.
She didn’t want to make them think they were welcome here, but there was unfriendly, and there was run away while you can, I’ll tear your head off if you let me. That voice definitely expressed the second option.
The woman in the middle did a very weird thing, grabbing a knife and quite suddenly severing her long, gorgeous dark hair.
What the hell? Thank god, give or take a few strands, the inverted bob she’d ended up with actually rocked.
The two others had been about to imitate the gesture with their own weapons, so Silvia put both hand in the hair in surrender.
“Ok, down with the knife, what the hell is this about?”
“Offerings?” the first mermaid hazarded, sounding quite confused.
“To me?” Silvia asked, needing clarification.
“You’re Amphitrite’s actual flesh and blood… So yeah. To you.”
When had they fallen into the realm of what the fuck?
“What am I supposed to do with hair? I mean, if you have to make some sort of a gesture, stick to freaking apple pie.”
She led the three mer to her home, ignoring their murmurs about amazing powers as they took in the walls. Whatever.
She hadn’t let them in to hear compliments. Silvia had exactly three questions: who were they, how did they get here and what did they want.
She’d thought they’d try to bullshit her, but their answers were straightforward, and too gruesome to be anything but sincere.
Bobbed Hair was Daria, and she introduced the two others as Anne and Ariella, her sisters. They were daughters of Morgan Fall, the Atlantian King who had banished her from the Dark Ocean.
Silvia tensed at that, but they made it clear that they weren’t here to attempt to fulfill their father’s promise.
They wanted her help.
Morgan regularly fed of their powers. Yes, that did involve some physical contact no father should ever have with a child of his. Mers were built to share their longevity and their gifts with their mate, hence why sex was a way to give and take powers.
“It only works when there is a bond between two people, but as our father, he has our blood, which does make him bound to us. We have two brothers he’s completely ignored, as they don’t appeal to his… taste.”
She may not have believed it, if she hadn’t been raised the way she had, but Silvia nodded stiffly, getting it.
Her father had been just like Morgan. He’d raped dozens, if not hundreds of women – every single one he was even remotely attracted to. It shouldn’t have surprised her that his attention turned to her, eventually.
He hadn’t touched her in her youth, but when she’d turned into a woman, he’d tried.
Which was the reason why he was dead.
She’d killed him without remorse, and she’d kill Morgan, too. These people had relinquished their right to breath.
“He isn’t fucking us,” Anne clarified, as thought it made things better. “But he…”
Silvia raised her hand again, gesturing them to stop. She didn’t need to hear another word.
“We haven’t made it here to whine,” said the woman, who had every reason in the world to whine a little bit if she freaking felt like it. “But because he’s about to declare war to Denker. Most of us are against it; however, if we were to turn up at the Denkerian borders and offer our allegiance to their King, we might be turned down. He’d cry fool, after what our family has done to him. Morgan would hear about the deflection and punish us all.”
Silvia concentrated, trying to understand the ins and outs; she didn’t have enough information to get the meaning of that tirade, she needed the bigger picture.
“Rewind, emphasizing on how I can be of help.”
She didn’t have enough Denkerian connection to tip the scale. Right?
“We’ve heard you’d been… seen with Erik Gryffon. Over eighty percent of the people of Atlantis are ready to offer their allegiance to you, and extend it to the Gryffons, if you were to marry and….”
“Wait a minute; just repeat that. Slowly, if you don’t mind.”
Because she really didn’t understand a word of it.
The sisters exchanged glances and explained again, conveying each rumor and each fact they had gathered before deciding that she was the best person to go to.
Because people said she was the sweetheart of the King of Denker, Erik Gryffon.
She just laughed.
God, her life sucked.
•
It started abruptly; one minute, they were on the deck, planning their research expedition to locate Silvia’s home, the island she’d mentioned, at the heart of the most dangerous place in the ocean, and the next instant, the water was rumbling, rising to completely block the entire Island of Denker in a sphere; he could see the wall of water miles and miles away.
Erik should have expected it. He’d anticipated some sort of communication before, though – a warning, or some demands.
The fact that a war had started barely registered in his mind: his eyes went east, toward the Dark Triangle he couldn’t see. Would she be affected? Was she in danger?
Morgan had caged them in, knowing that a lot of their resources did depend on outside trade.
How long would they last under that embargo?
The Atlantian expected them to try to force them to fight on the coast, because attacking merfolks in water was insane, right?
Which did mean that Morgan wouldn’t have thoroughly prepared for that eventuality. Their best chance was to fight them on water.
“That’s madness,” Gerry said. “You just can’t hope to beat them on their territory.”
“No, that make sense,” Dane – who, strangely, had stayed, declining the offer to fly them back to Alenia – protested. “Morgan won’t expect it. Merfolks are strong in water, but their power is entirely magical. Physically, they are weak. A few canons would definitely work.”
“The canons won’t mean a thing after they sink every one of their ships,” Sandro shimmed in.
No one agreed, because there was no answer – such as the way in war.
Erik listened, conscious that the decision, ultimately, was his. Whatever solution he chose, people would die; but it was up to him to limit the damage.
He got up and everyone fell silent, as they always did in the rare occasions when he was called to wear that silver diadem he hated.
He had, today, because as well as their foreign guests, his usual advisors, every general, every noble, mayors and dignitary had been summoned to answer to the upcoming threat.
“Our best chance is to attack on water,” he announced. “When we are ready to do so. For now, we need to assess our resources and ration those we are likely to run out of. Every civilian is being evacuated from the Tower City as we speak, towards the mainland. No ship is to attempt to sail through this madness.”
Not even his. Why hadn’t he immediately headed out to find Silvia instead of waiting for everyone to get organized? Now, it was too late.
“We need to contact our allies, how’s our network?”
“Still up, they haven’t affected our satellites. Krutia might be able to help, but Ferren and the rest are caged out by the storm.”
“How about the Sea Witch?” Gerry asked.
The very last question he wanted to hear, but as everyone expectantly waited, it was evident that he would need to.
“Si…” he tried, but her name
was caught in his throat, he couldn’t let it out. “The Sea Witch has no obligation towards us, and I have no reason to believe she might come to our aid.”
Not after what he’d said to her.
“We don’t need her help, though,” he lied, in an attempt to raise the morals.
It worked, somehow. Everyone suddenly cheered up, including Erik. He’d felt like absolute shit for days, but a veil lifted and he almost felt like he could have taken on the world.
Which wasn’t natural. He wasn’t a cheerful person. The only time his mood had changed so abruptly was when…
He turned slowly, following everyone’s gaze, towards the vast Chamber’s doors.
“That wasn’t very kind,” she said, imitating the intonation of his own remonstrance when he’d flirted with her so, so long ago.
He could barely process what he saw.
Silvia was there, leaning against the frame of the door. She was wrapped in a fuck me suit, made of a shiny black material revealing every single one of her freaking curves, like a second skin, her purple scaled dragon wrapped around her and her long mane freely falling down her back.
Fuck. She had always been so beautiful, but right now she was so hot.
“Are you doing that?” Sandro demanded before Erik had recovered the ability to formulate speech. “Fuck, I feel… good.”
Her eyes shifted from Erik, to her brother, and narrowed. She seemed surprised and displeased by his presence.
“Yes, I’m sucking you off. Deal with it. It’s feeding me and I need the extra dose of power.”
“You’re…”
“Taking in negativity. Always have, always will,” she replied defiantly, daring anyone to antagonize her about the fact that her sole presence was a happy pill.
Worst yet: she expected it. She thought they’d blame her, because by the sound of it, accusations were all she knew.
No one had any word for that.
“Well, lassie, can’t say I’m surprised,” Gerry told her, breaking the silence. “I drive you to town and next thing I know, we had a Witch. You and yours girls gunna help us out here?”
It was only then that Erik realized she wasn’t alone, which was saying a lot, because the trio behind her was composed of some of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen.
They were also familiar. His eyes narrowed.
“Actually, you’ll help. You’ll get me close to Morgan, so I can slit his throat.”
•
She couldn’t tell what was more comfortable: speaking to Erik, Ella, Sandro, Dane, or having a bikini wax.
Actually scratch that: she’d take the wax all day, any day.
Her brothers said they had been looking for her, that they were worried. She just nodded, all the while thinking What The Fuck.
Erik, she managed to dodge.
Thankfully, she had other matters to attend to.
The generals and the three sisters plotted, planned, and often needed her input, because their insane plan did rely on her ability to kill Morgan.
No one doubted she could – not even her, to be honest.
She’d always thought she was just one little Siren; by the sound of it, the Melusines, the generals, even old Gerry believed that made her worth the weight of three thousand mermen in a war.
“What of the siren they have, lassie?” Gerry asked her. “These waves wouldn’t have been created by just anyone.”
“Oh yes. Your King’s first toy,” she said, voluntarily throwing that jab at Erik, who was listening in; but as she wasn’t as mean as she wished she was, she immediately took in his pain.
“I understand it’s Sebastian’s mother. She doesn’t like my presence around her family, apparently.”
“That bitch is crazy,” Daria chimed in. “Like, seriously. She had a temper tantrum screaming “he’s mine,” or whatever. Apparently, she thought that if she let him stew in long enough, he’d suddenly realize they were made for each other. But as a siren, she could read his mind and saw how little she mattered.”
“Are you saying that Ariena caused our accident three years ago?”
Silvia had enough of that particular story; it might make her a crazy bitch, too, but she really didn’t want to hear about his other lovers.
The sisters could explain about the little weight the other siren represented; Silvia walked away, voluntarily stepping close to Ella.
She was the safest bet out of three people she knew in the room.
The woman hadn’t liked her from day one, but a disdain formed over the course of a twenty minute chat – when she had admittedly been a bit abrupt – had nothing on the sort of scorn she’d faced at the hands of her brothers.
“You suck,” Ella told her when she sat next to her.
Wow. Direct.
“The plan was to come and, I don’t know, rescue you or something, so you could come back with us. But you own them all,” she said, gesturing to the entire room. “That’s where you belong.”
“I belong in my island. I’ll return there as soon as I’ve killed that bastard.”
“Why, what has he done to you?”
Ella seemed like a little girl, to her, as she was a full foot smaller, and there was something adorable in her features, but she was twenty-six, almost two years older than Silvia. She could handle it.
“It’s not what he’s done to me; it’s about what he did to them.”
She was gesturing towards the sisters, but her thoughts went to Vanessa, the woman she’d hated with every single fiber of her being, only to discover that she didn’t deserve any of it. None of it had been her fault.
Where was she, anyway?
“Do I want to ask?”
She could ask, but it wasn’t Silvia’s story to tell.
“Silvia, I know Dane and Sandro hurt you – repeatedly. But they’ve learnt. If you could forgive them…”
“I forgive them.”
She’d wished things could be different, but they weren’t, so there was no point crying about it – especially since she was physically unable to do so.
“But you’re not coming back?”
Hell no came to mind. With something along the line of never in a million year.
If the last two months had taught her anything, it was that she was suffocating in Fortswood, in Alenia, where she was expected to be perfect, without ever gaining anything from it.
If she ever could deal with the disappointment linked to living with other people, she’d choose Denker, where so many had been nice to her without needed a reason.
“I’m not.”
“At least, tell me that you’re staying with that delicious man. Sweet goddess, he’s hot.”
“Cinderella de Luz! This isn’t the kinda talk I wanna hear from my brother’s wife,” she grinned, completely understanding because hell, Erik was really, really handsome right now, in the formalwear she’d never seen on him.
Especially when he was shooting her that kind of look.
“He’s glancing at you, again.”
As thought she needed to be told.
However, no amount of eye fucking would change the fact that he’d turned against her as soon as something had seemed off key.
There would be a lot of weird shit happening in the life of a siren who had thousand of years ahead of her, and his way of handling it didn’t sit too well with her.
Then, not wanting a forever didn’t rule out the possibility of screwing this infatuation out of her system; the memory of being at his mercy, between the wall and his hard everything was worth a bit of consideration.
Worried her thought could be read on her face, she forced herself to look away and change the subject.
“By the way, you’re calling him Silvio, right?”
Ella was taken aback, as she hadn’t shared the news yet, probably cunningly keeping it in her arsenal as a reason why Silvia had to come back with them.
“I… You… Fuck, it’s a boy?”
“Definitely. Silvio sucks, how about
Sylvain?”
Chapter 14: Foreplay.
It was obvious that the woman had tried – and mostly managed – to avoid him; she’d also been quite proficiently hiding from her two brothers, every time they’d approached.
Dane finally cornered her and hell if their chat didn’t seem uncomfortable. There was a lot of nodding involve on her side, as well as some lip biting and averted eyes. Within less than five minutes, Silvia was fabricating some sort of an excuse and assuredly walking towards Erik.
Thanks, bud. Good to know he was the lesser of the two evils.
“Hi. Where’s Seb?”
Of course she’d enquire about Seb, not him. The child had never turned his back on her.
That blow hit the mark.
“In mainland, we’ve evacuated the civilians.”
She looked as thought he’d just tried to behead Drake – again.
“Right. Is there a room I can borrow? I need a nap.”
She seemed ready to go for a run, swim a few hundred miles and then, take up kickboxing just to chill, but yeah, when the choice was speaking to her brothers or him, she needed sleep, apparently.
Erik wasn’t going to make it easy on her. He knew she was trying to avoid the profusion of apologies brewing under the surface, at the tip of everyone’s tongue but, damn it, she’d hear his.
His brothers might have been idiots for years but as far as he was concerned, he was the one who’d messed up the most – because she hadn’t been prepared to hear that shit from him, her lover. He’d seen the shock in her features.
That meant that his groveling took dibs.
“Sure, I’ll take you.”
“Directions would do.”
The way that tongue rolled in that mouth made him hard without even trying. Directions sounded like ropes, chains, whip cream and strawberries.
“I’ll take you or Sandro can accompany you. You know, for your protection. Dangerous times.”
A resounding “you’re so full of shit” had all but formed on her lips, when they were ambushed; both of her brothers had closed in, and were attempting useless chitchat.
