by Starla Night
“Mer do not consume souls.”
“Right, I know.” She smiled softly, sharing their joke.
It made his heart clench.
He pushed through his feelings. “And, Harmony, no warrior can ‘drag’ you back to a city. If you do not wish to go then you must not.”
Her smile faded to resignation. “I’m a sacred bride, Faier. Your explanation isn’t that far off from my great-grandmother’s prophecy, which makes me a hot commodity, whether I like it or not.”
“Whether you like it is the most important. If you do not like a warrior, you cannot sync souls. You will never transform. You will remain on the surface.”
“Or else I’ll drown.”
“No, Harmony. Harming a female breaks the first law of the mer. No warrior will force you to do anything. It is dishonorable.”
She snorted. “And no ‘warrior’ ever acts dishonorably, right?”
“Warriors have done so,” he admitted, uncomfortably aware of his own wrong desires. “But even if a warrior did coerce you to transform, female mer can summon great powers. Much greater than any male.”
“Oh, so I have the power over wind and sea? Well, heck, transform me!”
His heart squeezed. “You jest.”
“I’m sorry.” She hugged her knees again, her soul dimming as she hid her strength away and protected herself from hidden enemies. “It’s just me having any choice is…well, it’s ridiculous.”
“No, Harmony.” He needed her to understand for her own safety. “You can order warriors. You must. Even hostile warriors will obey if you bring forth your powers as a queen.”
She stared at him for a long, hard moment as though her gaze were cutting through the cloaking darkness and seeing his scars. Then she rubbed the healed skin on her wrists. “I don’t know how to believe you”
He straightened. “I speak the truth with honor.”
She softened again. “I believe you would never force me.”
“Not only me. Believe.” He slipped over the side, into the water and ducked under to taste the current.
Chalk. Limestone. Guano.
He dragged the raft into the strong current. Fast, turbulent waves rocked the raft.
Harmony’s face appeared over the edge. Wavy, anxious, beautiful. She tapped the water.
His heart shivered.
She would never be his bride, yet he had sworn to protect her. Second, he had sworn to return her to America.
His chest thrummed from the dangerous power of his unbreakable vows.
He was getting wrapped deeper and deeper into her. So when she found her destined warrior, he would ache. Only this time, the exile would be his own heart.
Her soul light flickered.
He rose, drawn like a minnow to the full moon, laid bare to surface predators. His gills shifted to lungs. He took a breath.
Her hand reached out to touch his face—and stopped. She jolted as though catching herself at the last instant and curling her fingers into a fist.
He forced himself to remain calm, as if she hadn’t almost touched him of her own will, because it had clearly been a mistake. “Yes, Harmony?”
“I’ll believe,” she promised raggedly as if she were afraid he would disappear again if she didn’t. She hugged her fist to her chest. “If you tell me to, I’ll try.”
“Believe in your power because it is within you,” he urged. “Not because you fear me.”
“I don’t fear you. I fear everybody else.”
“Harmony.”
“Right.” She sighed and scrubbed her eyes. “Believe. Ha ha. Huuuuuh.”
He kicked, his fins scooping the water to keep them in the current, the raft and its precious, damaged, frightened occupant he would do anything to soothe and keep safe.
“I swear I will try to believe I am a queen who can boss around a bunch of armed, hostile, monst—uh, guys. Warriors. I will try to believe that.”
“It is important.”
“Why? You’re staying with me.” She dropped her hands to the wood. “Right?”
He didn’t know what to say.
Her soul light darkened. “Faier.”
“I do not know what awaits us on this land.”
“Warriors? You think hostile warriors await us?”
“Prepare yourself.”
She hugged herself, her soul light dim and her voice tiny. “Okay.”
“Be powerful, Harmony. Be strong.”
She swallowed hard.
But he relied on her. With his injuries, he could only fight so hard. If they reached hostile territory, they would face attack.
And their fates rested on Harmony.
Chapter Seven
Islands appeared like pebbles on the horizon at sunrise.
Harmony stared at the trio until they disappeared under the punishing shine. Her stomach panged.
Not from hunger. Faier had brought her plenty of fish, and in her desperation, the taste improved. Became familiar. Like an ancestral memory…or something.
He’d brought her weird, interconnected jellybean “sal chains.” The texture was bizarre, and the taste was mostly seawater and salt.
He took care of her.
Pang.
Anxiety. That was what she felt. Her stomach rode on a roller coaster plunging endlessly down.
Be powerful. Order around armed warriors. Be strong.
Yeah, right.
Faier surfaced. “We will reach the island in daylight.”
She felt ill.
“Good.” She drained the droplets from her dew trap into half of a salvaged plastic water bottle. “I’m glad we’ll be able to explore in the daylight.”
He looked grim.
“Oh! Will you be okay? Your skin sensitivity.” She gestured at the shoulders he kept submerged.
“I have no skin sensitivity, Harmony.”
The way he said her name made little thrills run up her spine.
She crushed the feeling. “You don’t? But you only visit at night.”
“Human vision is most obscured during the night.”
“Obscured?”
“In daylight, you must see my body.”
Desire shot through her like a bolt.
She had seen him better than he thought in the darkness. Blue sparkling bioluminescence at dusk and moonlight had bathed him in a million stars. They had illuminated the hard outline of a male in his prime and her eagerness to see more in the light of day made her jolt with embarrassment at herself.
And now she was so comfortable with him that she’d almost reached out and cupped his cheek last night. What had she been thinking? The near-miss had wreaked havoc in her heart for hours afterward.
“Um, oh, that’s fine.” She tried to reassure him that she would not invade his privacy. Even though she’d already done it in the darkness. A bunch. “I won’t look. I promise.”
He lowered his head. “I will warn you before I must emerge.”
“Yep, that’s fine.”
“Be on guard once we approach the inner ring.”
“Sure. Will do.”
“Harmony.”
“Yes?”
“Forgive me.” Heart-stopping mauve entangled his dark irises. His dark gaze stole her breath. “I do not wish to subject you to any frightening sight you will find horrifying.”
What?
Horrifying?
Her mouth opened and closed on its own. She tried to respond. “Hungh.”
Faier ducked beneath the water.
She was alone on the raft.
The raft jerked to her left. Toward the islands.
I do not wish to subject you to any frightening sight you will find horrifying.
Horrifying?
What was horrifying?
Harmony sank and raised the cup to her lips. She sipped the droplets.
They tasted like rain.
I do not wish to subject you to any frightening sight you will find horrifying.
Do not fear me.
<
br /> Please do not fear me.
Please.
Wait a minute. Wait just a gosh darned minute.
For all these nights, Faier’s kind gentleness had drawn her out of her terrified shell. He’d become her support. Her friend. They were castaways together. She trusted him just like she trusted Fab or Evens or Monsieur Joseph. He had her back and she had his. Even if he did expect her to order around deadly warriors like it was no big deal. She’d already decided that even though angering powerful men terrified her, if Faier was protecting her, then she’d try.
Every morning, he’d left, and visceral sadness had stabbed her. The night faded to a dream, and she feared Faier was her thirst-crazed delusion.
But now she understood that the reason he’d abandoned her had been her own fault.
He’d retreated beneath the raft so she wouldn’t be “subjected” to his nudity. Because her terrified shriek the first day had cut his gentle soul to the core.
She had hurt him. Badly.
Hurt because of something she’d said in the middle of terror.
“Faier?” Harmony set aside her dry plastic cup and leaned over the side. “I think we had a little misunderstanding. I don’t, uh…sorry!”
He didn’t surface.
Harmony leaned hard on the edge of the raft and searched the empty waves.
Come back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t realize you were you and I had nothing to fear.
“Faier?” She leaned.
The wooden lip bent beneath her weight.
She nearly catapulted into the sea.
Harmony jerked back, landing on the raft, and scooted to the center. Then she retreated beneath her ragged shelter. Just in case.
Was he sleeping beneath the raft? Probably not. He’d rescued her, cared for her, and he’d not once complained. He even vowed to take her back to Council Bluffs. And, unlike the others who’d given up or stopped caring, she knew he would do it.
Because he wasn’t the monster she had accused him of. He was Faier.
A strong, kind, hard male with mesmerizing eyes and intricate tattoos. Always respectful of her. Always encouraging. And his lips again teased her with the wonder of how he had tasted.
Desire stirred in her nethers.
She sucked in a breath and shook it off.
Okay, so, she was no longer afraid of Faier stealing her soul on purpose…
Harmony concentrated on the positive.
These islands would change everything. She would apologize as soon as they landed.
Surely the hardest times were behind her.
The islands winked in and out of existence. With no reference for scale, they seemed miles away or tiny, bare boulders poking above the ocean, so small they couldn’t support seabirds or insects. Not even a dragonfly.
The raft jerked and jerked again. The islands grew. Waves crashed against three bleached headlands.
Faier emerged at the head of the raft. “There is no beach. Only coral. We have no anchor. The landing will be difficult.”
“Only coral,” she repeated. “There has to be a beach somewhere on the three islands—”
“One island,” he corrected. “Three peaks. Water overruns at high tide.”
“So what do we do?”
“Abandon the raft and swim.”
She squeezed the raft lip so hard, it hurt.
He studied her white knuckles. “Do not fear me.”
“What? I don’t fear you.” She made the mistake of glancing into his eyes and was captured.
In the daylight, he looked dangerous. The long scar pulled his brow into uncompromising dominance.
But his “uncompromising dominance” was thoughtful. Kind.
She had to tell him—
“Tell me your desire,” he ordered.
A thrum of awareness shivered in her veins. Her channel contracted.
She was suddenly thinking of the wrong desires.
“Er, uh, is there no other way?” she asked, her voice thick.
“There are many ‘other ways.’ Other currents. Other islands.”
“There are other islands!”
“In the ocean, yes.”
“Oh. But not anywhere near us?”
He shrugged. “You know this region of surface, Harmony, better than me.”
“I barely saw one map!”
“That is more than I have seen.”
She squeezed. The waterlogged wood flaked beneath her fingers. This raft did not have long left.
But it was all she had.
“If we abandon the raft, we’re stuck,” she said.
He dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“I want to keep the raft.”
“Good, Harmony.”
“Good?”
“You stated your wish.”
“Oh, you want me to state my wishes?” She laughed hysterically. “I wish I was snuggled in a big, woolen blanket with a steaming cup of hot cocoa watching It’s a Wonderful Life while three feet of snow piled up outside my nice, new, unbroken windows. That’s a wish.”
His mouth quirked to one side. She amused him. Well, good. He amused her too.
The roller coaster in her belly eased.
“You express long-range desires,” Faier said smugly. “Soon, you will express your true desires in every moment. And then you will find your inner confidence and rule.”
“I’ll order around every single dragonfly and hermit crab,” she agreed, still death-gripping the shredded wood. “But for now, can we keep the raft? Is that even possible?”
“Yes.”
“Great!”
“Perhaps.”
She eyed him.
“The problem is guidance and momentum. I will provide momentum. You enter the water and guide the raft. We can attempt—”
“I can’t swim.”
His eyes widened. “No?”
She shook her head.
“But you are a sacred bride.”
“I didn’t know that until a couple weeks ago. Water terrified my mom.”
“But she was a sacred bride!”
“Maybe that’s why. Maybe she feared revealing she was a mermaid.”
“You cannot swim. A sacred bride who cannot swim.” He repeated it to himself several more times, muttering.
“So we’re stuck, huh?” She sank lower into her seat. The one time she could be useful to him and she had nothing. “Sorry.”
“No.” He faced the islands with new resolve. “I will bring us about.”
“Alone?”
He kicked hard and dove. Fins slapped the surface. He disappeared.
Oh, fins. Merman fins. She’d seen him so much as a man, she’d almost forgotten he was a mon—he could shift.
What would shifting be like? Freedom. Twirling like dolphins, wet, entwining in the water, playful and free. And useful. She could help him instead of relying on him helplessly for everything.
A dream.
The raft circled the trio of sheer, rocky spires.
Small birds nested in the highest reaches. The birds’ auras glowed neutral white against the muted backdrop. Vines dangled from foliage clustered at the tips. Waves skidded across an emerging rock belt that united the three spires.
The raft plowed for the center of the rocky belt.
She braced.
The raft screeched as it scraped the coral. It halted in the center.
Land!
Faier emerged from the deeper ocean along the back side of the raft.
She opened her mouth to apologize for the misunderstanding. He didn’t horrify her. She’d seen him plenty of times and…
Suddenly she really saw him. And it was shocking.
His knuckles were coated with scars. Inflamed with them. The backs of his hands looked like they’d gone through a wood chipper and been glued together on the other side.
His arms were more than a patchwork. And his chest…
His torso…
His legs…
Scars on
top of scars.
The mauve tattoos beneath were intricate. But now, barely visible.
He was a mess.
How had she not noticed before?
Oh, because she’d been too busy being frightened of him the first time he’d dared to show himself. And then he’d been careful to keep her from seeing him clearly again. She’d been too busy fantasizing about his hands on her, cupping her breasts and caressing her hips, to look.
Her heart thudded. Her palms felt damp. He had done so much for her, and she’d thrown it back in his face.
Tell him.
He clambered onto the rocky shelf. “Come. Quickly.”
“Faier.” She stood. “I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize. Walk.”
A hard wave crashed over the raft, rocking it sideways and knocking her off-balance. Water drained through the slats.
She gripped the raft in protest. “Are you sure the raft won’t wash out to sea?”
“We have a short time to explore.” He did not reassure her—meaning the raft would wash away—and his hard voice left no doubt of the urgency.
Harmony gripped the rocking raft even tighter. “Should we anchor it somehow?”
“Hurry. Please.” Faier hesitated near her as if to offer his arm.
Deep jags slashed his tattoos in a rounded shark bite.
He saw her looking at the scars and jerked his arm away, hunching to cover himself. “I forgot to warn you I would emerge.”
“Oh. It’s fine.”
“Forgive me.”
“No, I’m the one who messed up because I didn’t mean…”
He walked away and crossed the bleached coral toward the most prominent spire, his body a blur of muscle and movement.
She trailed off.
Harmony wanted to stop him. She wanted to tell him she didn’t mind, and she didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. She wanted him to help her to the land.
But they didn’t have time. She muttered her default. “Sorry.”
He was too far away, and she spoke too softly to reach him.
Harmony dangled one leg over the raft and eased onto the barnacle-crusted coral. Short time. Short time. Short time. The coral was sharp and gritty, like walking barefoot across gravel. She picked her way to shore.
Faier clambered onto a flat boulder and stared over the rest of the island. Silent.
And naked.
Totally naked, from the top of his dark, Grecian head to the bottoms of his human feet, and every valley and mountain of muscle in between. Dark mauve tattoos covered him in an intricate web.
