by Starla Night
“This marking.” He brushed his fingertip across her small blue butterfly. “It is a decoration?”
“A tattoo. Our version.” She canted her hip to make the ink more visible. It adorned her pubic bone, hidden beneath her smallest bikini. Secret. “A butterfly symbolizes transformation.”
“Butterfly,” he repeated and knelt. The shower bounced off his head in a refreshing spray. He pressed a kiss to the small drawing.
They had been naked before, pressed up against each other swimming through the ocean, but this was different. More intimate.
Couldn’t she commit to this man?
Some truths she knew immediately. The first time she’d stepped off the plane in the Azores she’d known she was home.
The first time she’d belted Uvim into the sedan, she’d known. She’d imagined tasting his kiss. She’d fantasized about losing control.
Why was she still hesitating?
Today he had walked into Vaw Vaw’s crowd, handled her hug with more aplomb than her brother-in-law Elan, and even challenged his deepest fears to give a speech. Because he knew it was important to Milly.
She had always wanted to become a proud matriarch like Vaw Vaw. In her dreams, her isolated childhood trio — herself, Zara, and her aunt — would change into a huge family. She’d be surrounded with happy, loving children, in-laws, grandchildren. And they would look to her for an encouraging word, a gentle hug, and Milly’s fierce, unconditional love.
For a long time that dream had seemed out of reach.
Now, Milly could almost see it. Herself, a proud matriarch with a huge, loving family. A man at her side, just as proud.
Uvim.
They just had to survive Zara’s wrath, his elders’ punishment, and the mysterious new dynamite-throwing enemy. Oh, and help Dosan heal and improve human-mer relations at the Sea Festival.
Just.
This time, she would be useful.
She would work hard and find her place to belong.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Uvim sensed Milly’s fears.
Faint, like the distant warning siren of a territorial bull shark, those fears nipped at the corners of her smiles and dragged her soul light down.
He had to convince Milly to focus on her faith. Faith in him. Faith in her. He must find the words to reach her.
After the shower, she removed her plastic “contacts” and wore her glasses until sleep. They spent the first night together on her couch, snuggled until his arm went to sleep and then she did. The next day Milly ran errands — shopping, checking the state of the lockbox, swimming in the ocean.
Above water, his soft words and his intimate touches only drove the fears a little distance. In the quiet, they returned with a crash. Frightening her. Frightening him.
Underwater, the fears quieted.
He introduced her to the small cave guardian patrolling where the mer stashed their tridents and daggers.
She held out her hand. The fierce yellow octopus wrapped one tentacle around her fingers, pinching like a human handshake. She giggled. “Nice to meet you.”
He released her hand, puffed his funnel, and strutted across the cave entrance, displaying his importance to the mer.
She giggled again.
If only Uvim could leave this land now, take her to the city, and claim her. Her doubts melted away beneath the waves because she lived her destiny. Her soul knew this was where she belonged.
She had so much love.
But he could not compromise Dosan’s recovery.
They exited the water and ended her errands by driving to the rental.
Dosan convalesced on a long white “lounge” chair beside the shimmery blue pool. Beside him rested the remains of a sandwich and blended ice drink. His physical recovery proceeded. The black center of his red bruise had faded to greenish purple.
But he was strangely quiet. Solemn. Not friendly nor sarcastic. “When will you dispatch a message to the elders?”
“When you recover.”
Dosan frowned.
“Dosan. What are your hopes for friendship between human and mer?”
He jolted. His shoulders dropped to a defensive position. “Why do you ask this?”
“Someone must give the welcome speech at the Sea Festival.”
Dosan eyed him for a long moment. Then, he studied his bruised chest. “Do not order me.”
“You speak well.”
The sapphire warrior looked away. “I have been angry for too long. Now, my feelings are confused.”
“Confusion is acceptable.”
He shook his head. “This confusion will not win allies. I lose my thoughts. Ramble.”
“You will heal.”
“It is not because of an injury.” He focused on Uvim. “You must speak.”
“I am no speaker.”
“You do not speak often. But your words focus. The humans will understand. You will gain their sympathy.”
Uvim shook his head. “I cannot convince anyone.”
“You have softened Queen Zara’s sister to our cause.”
“She does not carry Queen Zara’s anger.”
A smile cracked Dosan’s lips. “For you, perhaps. Xalu and I find Bride Milly’s anger frightening.”
“She had never been angry with you.”
Dosan’s brows rose. “Never? Then I hope I will never see her angry with me.”
Milly’s soul light was strong. She glowed with gentleness and deep humanitarian love. Did Dosan and Xalu not see this?
“She will be a strong queen.” Dosan changed the topic and fixed on Uvim. “You must soften the humans.”
Uvim shook his head again. “I cannot.”
“You are our leader.”
“I practice Queen Zara’s ‘democracy’ and give you this power.”
“Then I also practice Queen Zara’s ‘democracy’ and refuse.”
They reached an impasse.
He left the warriors and finished the evening with Vaw Vaw’s family. No news of the mystery organization, despite police confiscating their dynamite throughout the harbor. How was it smuggled into the island? Was it being smuggled? The relatives shared many theories.
They passed another sweet night.
The world seemed to be holding its breath. This time could not last. Milly frowned at her phone. When would Queen Zara listen to her message?
“It’s unusual,” Milly said. “She must be buried in research right now.”
This long neglect seemed strange.
What if the city fell under attack and she was needed?
Was Queen Zara imprisoned somewhere in need of rescue?
“I’m sure it’s fine. While we’re waiting, I’ll show you my favorite places on the island.” She looped her arm in his. “It’s a date.”
This “date” excited her.
It excited him too.
First, they stopped by the rental to check on his warriors. No one answered their summons so Milly called Ian. No answer.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” she said again, less confident.
Milly drove deep into the winding back roads up to the green-fringed caldera. As she parked, her cell phone rang. Ian! Everything was fine. The women had been shopping while the men slept.
The warriors reported to Uvim. He listened in the parking lot. Turbulent clouds and trilling birds swooped over the rugged pit of the island’s old volcano.
“I am stronger but not prepared to travel,” Dosan said. “I will remain here, resting.”
“I, too, will remain here,” Xalu said. “For security.”
Milly finished tying her tennis shoes and asked for the phone. “I want to speak to the women.”
He handed back her cell phone.
“How are things?” She bounced from one foot to the other. “Is everything going okay? No cultural misunderstandings I can help clear up?”
She was silent for a long moment.
Her soul light flared. She winked at Uvim and walked around t
he car, gazing over the caldera with a barely suppressed grin. “Mmhm? Oh, that can happen. Yep, that sounds normal. Ha ha! Well, you have to make your own decisions, so, good luck.”
After a few more minutes, she returned the phone to her pocket and led him to the start of the hiking path. “Things are exciting over there.”
“Exciting?”
“I think hosting two warriors would be pretty exciting.” She wrapped his arms over her shoulders, curling him protectively around her. “We are past the ‘excitement’ phase and are in the ‘wonderful’ phase.”
Yes, he found his arms around her, touching her shoulders — and other places — to be very wonderful.
He could continue these soft days filled with Milly’s intoxicating presence for the rest of his life.
The following day she had work. In the morning, she led a scuba tour group. They frisked everyone and opened bags so no weapons boarded the boat. Uvim journeyed with her, his presence drawing many furtive glances. At Milly’s urging, he accepted questions.
The humans’ many questions touched on his oceanic life and then centered on a variation of two: Did he like surface things? What did he think of the surface?
Was this knowledge useful? Could he incorporate this human curiosity into his welcome speech?
His welcome speech.
Uvim’s belly squeezed.
He must convince Xalu or Dosan.
The mer’s future depended on reaching out in friendship.
In the afternoon, Milly drove him to the interior of the island and swam in a cold fresh-water lake. That night, at home, he helped her create the dinner. Humans ate much less raw material and much more cooked items. They ended the night watching the picture-sound screen called “TV” snuggled up on the same couch where they slept.
Her boss called in the middle of their viewing to schedule the Sea Festival Committee Meeting.
“Tomorrow. Got it.” Milly ended the call and stretched. Her back arched over Uvim’s lap. “Real life is about to intrude. I can just feel it.”
He felt her shoulder blades in his thighs. “This is not real?”
“This is a beautiful dream.” She sighed, wistful. “I want to do so many more things with you. Take you to a restaurant. Watch a soccer match. Picnic on the beach.”
That future sounded beautiful, too.
“We’ll see how much we can fit in before the Sea Festival.” She rolled over on his lap and clicked the remote. “Then we’ll go to your city. After the marriage ceremony in front of the Life Tree, you must show me around.”
His heart stuttered.
She watched the “TV show” about friends living together in a human city.
He cleared his throat. “I show you?”
“Your favorite places. Where you grew up, and your daily life, and whatnot.”
Even though she talked about becoming a queen, she rarely spoke of marrying him. And sometimes her self-doubt made it sound as if she would still change her mind.
To know these contented days might continue … that she chose him and would continue to do so forever despite his silences, his doubts, his shame … his heart pushed up into his throat and he couldn’t breathe.
She sensed his silence held deeper feelings and rested her head on his chest. “You do still want to marry me, right?”
“More … than I can say.”
She wove her fingers with his. “Great.”
Her soft breast brushed his hard pectoral. His cock heated, rising to attention. He tried to ignore his reaction and focus on the show. It was important to learn about human relations. Even if the tightness of his swim shorts made his cock ache.
She turned. Her hand rested on his hard thigh and drifted over his cock.
Hunger warred with control.
She nuzzled his ear. “Are you watching the show?”
Was this a test?
“Yes. Are you?”
“No.”
He turned.
Her lips caught his. Their mouths meshed in a sweet, hot kiss.
Without breaking contact, she pointed the remote and shut off the TV. And then they kissed each other in their other favorite places.
And then she removed her clothing and straddled him nude, her gorgeous pussy stroking the fabric where his cock strained and shuddered with wave after wave of pleasure.
After, he held her close as her even breathing sent her into a deep, satisfied sleep.
Milly was right. These days were a beautiful dream.
He could not bear to wake up.
But he must.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The following day, they drove to Milly’s work to meet her boss about the Sea Festival Planning Committee.
Nicolette ushered them out of the dive shop. “The committee chair will meet us at the stage.”
Brody raced behind them. “Milly! I have to get those pressure plates off of you. Ty needs them back.”
“Sure.” Milly glanced around. She’d had to park farther away today because of traffic. “They’re in my trunk still. Where’s your car?”
“Way up the street.”
“Ohhh. I’m the other way.”
Her boss tapped her wristwatch. “The committee’s waiting and so’s today’s private tour, Brody.”
He bounced on his laced footwear.
“I’ll look for you when we get back from the meeting,” Milly promised.
“Cool.” He waved and headed to the dock.
Her boss wove through the small streets and crammed-full shops. White buildings with red tile roofs, a lumpy road Milly called cobblestone, and green trees shimmered in the hot morning breeze off the midsummer day.
While they walked, Milly’s boss pointed out the pre-festival activities had begun.
“The festival takes place across two weeks,” she told Uvim. “There are always boat races, an inter-island swim across the channel, a music festival, shopping tents, and extravaganzas.”
Her boss reached Faial’s main road and followed the curve of the harbor. A long human-filled bus parked at their side. Waves of humans jumped out. Some noticed him. They marched past.
“As you can see, the tourists have arrived.” They walked around banging and strident construction. “Boats are crammed into the harbors around the island while the rest anchor off-shore.”
They waited their turn to cross a busy street and enter the marina.
“The festival starts in two days,” Milly told him.
“Yes, and in between the first and second week, there’s always an official welcome ceremony.” The walk sign changed. A huge school of humans crossed the street. Her boss paused and focused on Uvim. “That’s when you come in.”
They crossed the busy road.
On the oceanic side, humans posed with cell phones in front of the colorful harbor wall. Paintings stretched along the rock wall and the walkway in front of the calm ocean.
Although they had driven past this sight many times, it was his first time seeing it in person.
“Legend says sailors must paint a mural to bring good luck to their voyage,” Milly said.
Many human boats of different sizes bobbed in the marina. Beyond them, across the channel stood Pico Island’s large, black volcanic cone.
They climbed the steps to the top of a newly constructed platform facing the ocean. Wide enough for an entire delegation of warriors, the barren stage elevated and exposed him to all humans within view.
On the platform, Milly’s boss introduced the committee chairman of the Sea Festival: a short, chubby male with a balding head. He sweated in a dark suit.
“The centerpiece this year is the mid-festival parade,” he said. “Boats are being decorated with garlands and colors. This,” the committee chair pointed to a lopsided, old boat being towed across the harbor, “will be the Friendship Float.”
Milly’s brows wrinkled. “That’s it?”
“I know what it looks like,” her boss rushed to assure them. “But don’t freak out. It
’s seaworthy.”
“It looks a little, uh, worn.”
“Local artists constructed the decorations,” the committee chair said. “After the Friendship Float makes its tour of the harbor, its final rest will be on land right there.” He pointed at a low, concrete pedestal off to the side of the marina. “And that’s where it will stay as a monument to our friendship.”
“It’s pretty fab,” her boss said.
“So, you — Warrior Uvim? — will stand here.”
The committee chair led them across the flat stage to a wooden shield block.
Cover. He gripped it.
“Ignore the podium,” the committee chair said. “We’ll remove it for your remarks.”
No.
“The public wants to see you. You’re not wearing these ugly swim shorts, are you?”
Ugly? The orange swim coverings were ugly?
Milly suppressed her smile.
“Perhaps you could wear your native dress?” the committee chair suggested.
Her boss laughed. “That would be revealing.”
“His ‘native dress’ is naked,” Milly explained.
“Yes, then, something less revealing.” The chair cleared his throat again. “You, Warrior Uvim, will make the welcome remarks. After you finish, the float will erupt with flowers, showering us in petals.”
“Shower us with flowers!” Milly made an “o” of surprise. “Like out of a cannon?”
“No, the artist has created a bag attached to springs. It will launch the delicate petals into the sky. On Warrior Uvim’s signal, they will flutter on boats and guests like a million butterflies.”
“Sounds cool.”
Uvim faced his doubts squarely. “What must I say?”
“Anything,” the committee chair said. “Traditionally, we welcome guests and express our hope to enjoy the festival together.”
“It’s our first year with mermen,” the boss said.
“Yes, so, any friendly words will be well-received.”
The committee chair and Milly’s boss descended the steps chatting.
Uvim counted the empty, semi-constructed tiers.
