by Starla Night
He would not go down!
Her heart thumped in her throat. She’d never really hurt anyone. But this was life or death.
Sydney lifted the aluminum knife.
The kid produced the pistol.
Sydney checked. “Uh oh.”
He glared at her. “That hurt.” With a whine.
She swallowed. “Well, I’m not sorry.”
“You’re going to be. Drop that.”
She dropped the knife.
“Get over against the wall. Both of you.”
Jen hurried to Sydney’s side.
“Ugh.” He rubbed his elbow and appealed to the kid still tied up. “Why did we even kidnap them? It’s obvious now we have to kill them.”
The duct taped kid made a strangled sound.
This was what happened when kids didn’t get love and discipline from their parents. Too entitled. They didn’t think things through.
A knock echoed through the warehouse.
It was either their leader or…
She and Jen straightened. Getting ready to counter-attack.
The surfer kid swaggered toward the doorway, then stopped. His eyes narrowed. He toyed with his gun.
Outside, the rattle of the giant warehouse doors gave way to shouts and fighting.
Yes!
He trained his gun on the door. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Jen said, innocent.
Wham! The office door flew open.
One of the lanky kids suspended off the ground by the back of his shirt. He pointed at her and Sydney. “There! The women are there!”
Behind him loomed their warriors!
Xalu dropped the lanky kid. “Sydney!”
The kid landed on the ground with an “oof” and rolled away.
Dosan’s trident gleamed with deadly intent. He and Xalu, also armed with trident and blades, advanced into the office.
The surfer kid backed against the office wall and trained his gun on two growling warriors. “Don’t come any closer.”
Xalu strode in front of Sydney, his gaze never leaving the kid. He protected her with his whole body. “You are unhurt?”
“Mostly.”
His growl deepened.
The kid shivered.
“I told Jen,” she told Xalu, sheltering behind his powerful form. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
He nodded slightly, his grip tight on his trident.
Dosan snarled at the surfer kid. “You dared to touch my bride.”
The surfer kid held up the gun, shaky. “Stay back.”
Dosan advanced. Clearly, he was the blindly heroic type.
“Put the gun down,” Jen advised the kid.
The surfer kid shook his head.
“Now,” Jen insisted. “Your threat is stupid. They’re undersea warriors who don’t understand guns.”
“I’ll shoot!”
“And even if you did shoot them, they’d still try to disarm you. And I mean ‘dis-arm’. Those tridents are sharp.”
The kid swallowed.
So, he was attached to his arms.
In the distance, police sirens sounded.
“It’s going to be a lot harder in prison when you’re missing an arm,” Sydney pointed out.
The kid looked at her. His gun wavered.
Xalu growled.
“You can’t shoot both,” Jen pushed. “One of them is going to slice your hand off. Unless you put the gun down now.”
He set the gun on the table and backed up against the wall. “Don’t hurt me.”
Whew.
Xalu gestured with the trident for him to exit. “Your human justice is waiting.”
He crept out of the office.
After that, the police took charge. They arrested the kids, searched the warehouse. An inspector collected preliminary reports and made appointments for full statements.
Ian took them back to the rental. They split off right away. She led Xalu to her room.
This bold warrior, who risked his life to save her, deserved to know the truth.
She led him in, closed the door, and seated him on her bed. “I have a confession.”
“For me?” He looked grim.
She unzipped her top. “For you.”
His gaze riveted on her hands parting the fabric to reveal her seductive black bra.
“I think it’s best to confess uncomfortable truths while getting naked. What do you think?”
He followed her hands teasing the zipper of her pants. A large bulge grew in a similar location on his body. “Think?”
She lowered the zipper and slid the pants over her hips, revealing matching lace panties. “I’m sorry I dragged out my confession to Jen.”
“Hmm?”
She toed aside her pants and tugged her bra straps off her shoulders. “The truth is, I got comfortable thinking of myself as your fiancée and I didn’t want to push to the next step. I told you I wasn’t afraid, but I really was afraid of leaving the surface behind.”
He fixed on her face. “You were!”
“But I know you’ll protect me from any dangers.”
He rose and cupped the hands at her central bra clasp, stopping her. “I will, my Sydney. I swear it.”
“I believe you. You’re saying my name right again, you know.”
He swelled with pride. “I listened in my chest.” He thumped twice. Two syllables.
“Good. Now I’ll listen and you tell me what you think.” She twisted the clasp. Her bra released. Her large breasts sprang free and bounced between them, her brown nipples dark against her skin.
He was always freeing her.
Xalu stared. “Beautiful.”
This was one reason she’d spent extra time at the spa. It was nice of him to notice.
She unfastened his shirt. “I look good with you.”
He sucked in a breath and released it in a hiss. She caressed his pectorals, allowing her voluminous breasts to brush his trembling skin.
Xalu cupped her masses in his warm palms. He buried his face in her, kissing and enjoying, and then dropped to his knees and pressed his face to her lace panties.
Her feminine lips turned slippery.
He nuzzled her. She heated and throbbed, remembering exactly what he’d done under the water, and ready to enjoy it again.
He glared up at her. Fierce. Possessive. “You are my bride.”
Yes. He had caught her. She surrendered.
Sydney slipped her newly manicured fingers beneath the lace and pulled it down, stepping out of her panties. “So take me already.”
He hesitated for a long moment. Huh. He wasn’t going to ask her what she meant and where to take her, was he?
No.
He scooped her up under her knees, rose, and laid her out on the bed. His hands gripped his shorts and ripped them off.
His entire, gorgeous body was laid bare to her eager eyes. Her pussy throbbed. She didn’t want kisses right now. She wanted a good, hard man filling her to the brim and making her lose all her inhibitions.
He answered her silent wish.
Kneeling between her thighs, his large cock nudged her pouting feminine lips.
Eagerness made her clench.
She wrapped her legs around his buttocks and drew him in.
He filled her to the hilt. Stretching with his fullness, bliss washed over her. Xalu bobbed against her pleasure spot. Sparkles tingled in her lips, in her fingertips, in her toes. He pumped in and out.
Her body accepted him, writhing up and down on the bouncing bed.
He gripped her hips, perfecting their connection, giving her the most pleasure in one single coupling than she’d had in her entire life. His grip tightened, fingers squeezing her butt cheeks.
She gasped.
Her release rocketed through her and sparkled like a firework. The orgasm shook her so hard she had to clench her teeth on her scream. Tears burned her eyelids.
And he kept pounding into her.
She rocketed into a second vo
lley. A third. Sweat bathed her — dripped from him like he was swimming laps. He treasured her body, claimed her in the most primal way. She orgasmed for him. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, gripping him as she came.
He stiffened. His release blasted heat into her G-spot and she came a fourth and final time.
He tipped over onto the bed beside her. Wiped out.
She stroked the sweat on his brilliant, gleaming pectoral. The tattoos that had mesmerized her. They were so interesting, so unusual. She stroked the male who would become her husband.
He blinked like coming awake and traced the line of salty tears on her cheeks. “You experience sadness.”
“I get emotional,” she agreed.
“You cry because of my touch.”
“A good cry. You were amazing.” She tried to put her leg on his and failed with a groan. “I’m wrecked. I’ll never sleep with another man again.”
“Good. Because you are mine.”
She let that sink in. His vow pressed her into the mattress with lovely weight. She could stay here, just like this, with him, for the rest of her life.
Staying here as his fiancée would be comfortable. Safe.
But then she would never grow and enjoy the next phase. That’s what she’d learned.
Her long not-engagement was only partly her ex’s fault. The Loser had kept her waiting a decade, and she had let him, making it comfortable to stay in their rut, letting the routine grow deeper and harder to escape as every year passed.
Now, she needed to not make the same mistake with Xalu.
She wanted the next step. Marriage. Children. Growing old together, proud of their pride. She wanted all the steps with Xalu.
She forced herself upright with a groan. “The elixir? Do you have it?”
He rose and strode to the courtyard nude, then returned with a glass of water. She closed the door again, glad Jen was busy with Dosan and Ian was … wherever he was, probably calling his wife and kids, elsewhere.
Inside Xalu’s glass nestled a small white flower about the size of a cherry blossom.
He poured just the blossom into his hand, ignoring the drips on the tile, and set the remaining glass on her nightstand. He held the blossom to her lips. “Drink the nectar, my Sydney. Entwine your heart and soul with mine.”
She hovered her lips next to his fingers. “Will you swear to love and honor me so long as we both shall live?”
His voice thickened with emotion. “You have my vow.”
“Then, I do.” She sipped the tiny droplets of nectar clinging to the blossom. They tasted like salt and sweetness. Happy tears from her wedding day.
Now, and forever, they were soul mates.
Xalu’s promise burned in his fierce eyes. He loved her. She was his bride. Soon, his wife.
The real wedding was yet to come. It would be filled with just as much happiness as this day.
Xalu set aside the blossom and pulled her into his lap, chasing the nectar with his passion-filled kiss.
His vow was true.
Formerly a bridesmaid, Sydney was now the most radiant bride.
Epilogue - Milly’s Queenly Life
“You know what I think?”
Milly interrupted the arguing elders and honorable warriors in the king’s castle of undersea city Dragao Azul.
The arguments broke off — some unwillingly — and most floating males rotated in the middle of the courtyard to stare at her.
“What is your idea, my Milly?” her husband, Second Lieutenant Uvim, asked.
Although he spoke rarely, his words carried weight. The last of the arguers turned to listen.
She smiled with enthusiasm. “I think we should invite the Newas hunting party ‘invaders’ to our wedding feast.”
The elders’ jaws dropped in unison. The honorable warriors looked like they’d swallowed bitter lemons, even though she had yet to taste a mer food that even came close to the sour yellow citrus. The king’s wrinkled face smoothed to blank. After living among the mer for weeks, she now knew that expression was his way of being surprised.
Uvim listened intently. “Why?”
Her chest vibrated to convey her reason underwater. “Because—”
“Impossible!” One loud elder, Veno, burst out his protest. “We must run them off!”
Others shouted him down. “Honor requires we treat them with respect!”
“Drive them into the nearest trench.”
“Leave them alone.”
“They might wish to join our city. We could use more warriors!”
“Accepting them or fighting them will anger Newas. Leave them alone. We must not risk another war.”
“Why not risk a war? Our army has returned from the surface. We will drive them out.”
“Peaceful visitors receive hospitality!” One particularly hot elder reached for a deadly trident.
And then suddenly everyone swarmed the pile of weapons, armed themselves, and began slashing. Peace-keeping warriors darted between the warring elders, parrying and sparring to keep the weapons from severing any limbs.
Milly kicked her fins to get herself out of the way of an accidental slice.
Uvim shielded her. His broad back rippled as he wielded his trident in her defense.
“Augh! Stop this!” Zara raised her hands. White light burst from her fingers and formed a shield over the dwindled pile. The unarmed elders attacking it were pushed back. “No armed combat. There are children present.”
Her and Elan’s toddler, Zain, rooted around in the garden beneath their heated debate. The king watched him closely, a smear of mud on his royal cheek.
“This is a civil discussion,” Zara said. “You put the weapons in a pile and you leave them there.”
The elders and warriors disentangled and glared at her for interrupting their fight.
“Weapons. Pile. Now.”
They obeyed, although one muttered at the fact that Uvim and First Lieutenant Elan did not add their weapons to the pile.
“There. Now.” She dropped her hands, removing the barrier. “My sister was telling you why she wants to invite a bunch of foreign warriors to her wedding feast.”
“Never!” Elder Veno attacked the weapons pile.
Zara threw up her hands. The barrier reformed. He bounced off.
Zara’s husband, Elan, wrested the elder back to the negotiation ring.
“Shut it, all of you,” she snapped, holding up one finger. “Milly. Go.”
“Three reasons.” Milly held up her own fingers and counted them down. “First, because it’s friendly. If they are a simple hunting party, then we’re treating them with the respect that you usually give to fellow hunters.”
The elder who’d made that argument nodded with righteous justification.
“Wedding feast meat is too much respect,” his neighbor muttered.
“No hunters linger for so long!” another shouted. “It is a trap. We cannot trust—”
“Second,” she vibrated louder to be heard over the boiling argument, “because if they’re refugees escaping Newas, then they’re probably starving, and so feeding them will entice them to join our city.”
The protests started. “We must protect our queens. We must—”
Zara made an all-too-human exasperated scream.
The fights stopped abruptly.
Milly smiled at her sister in thanks. “Third, if their intentions are not friendly, then they’ll know we have three powerful queens who are not afraid to defend our city.”
“We must protect—”
“Shhh.” Zara held her shimmering fingers to her lips, reminding everyone of the super powers queens alone possessed.
The elder lapsed silent.
“That’s my idea.” Milly clapped her hands gently under the force of the water. “Questions?”
The males all blinked, surprised, as if they did not realize Milly would offer them a time to debate or ask questions at the end.
“What if they are scouts for
a larger force?” Elder Veno demanded. “Then they have lured us into a trap.”
“Then we’ll defeat the trap,” Milly replied.
They were struck. “Defeat the trap?”
“You, me, Zara. Dragao Azul’s army.”
“It is dangerous to underestimate your enemies,” he warned.
“Fair enough,” she agreed easily. “It’s just that you all defeated the All-Council army after it had already besieged and imprisoned most of you. Then, you only had Zara. Now Jen and I are healers. Zara and Sydney can shield or push others back. And Sydney’s made friends with the giant cave guardian who lives nearest to the Newas warriors’ current camp. Didn’t a giant cave guardian chase off a megalodon?”
“In battle.” Elan supported her. “I have seen this.”
“Surely a giant cave guardian will defend his territory from a megalodon,” elder Veno sniffed. “But attack at our command? Even if Queen Sydney commands, he is a wild beast, not a disciplined battalion.”
“My big black cave guardian, Clifford, saved everyone from a bomb in Horta.”
Now Clifford was a permanent resident. Ships gave her a wide berth and nobody anchored near her cave unless they wanted a curious, tentactular embrace.
She emerged regularly to accept tribute. The locals hailed her as their savior, and stalls were set up next to the marina to sell fish to tourists. She was growing into a fat, happy, and fully tentacled giant cave guardian. And, most importantly, she was no longer so lonely.
“We cannot rest our defense on an animal,” the one elder said.
“We won’t,” Milly interrupted, trying to stop the inevitable slide back into an argument. “Not unless the hunting party actually is a…”
“We cannot rely on a cave guardian!”
“Respect your queen,” a warrior growled.
“The city must be guarded!”
Too late. The arguments had already started.
Zara caught Milly’s eye and shook her head.
But, the arguments had a new direction and new energy. Now, instead of arguing about what to do, they adopted Milly’s idea to approach the Newas hunting party with something and argued about what or how. By the time they’d determined who would go and who would stay, what weapons to wield, whether or not to brandish them, and the words in their first greeting, Zara had mediated too many times. Her patience snapped.
