by S. K Munt
‘Oh my god Saraya...have you ever seen a sadder sight?’ A girl’s voice asked from behind him.
‘Nope, I don’t believe I have.’
Lincoln looked over his shoulder and shot Pintang and Saraya a death stare. ‘Wow, the full moon really can turn a sea witch into an actual witch, can’t it?’
‘And a hot guy into a simpering bitch.’ Saraya said, then giggled. ‘We thought we’d come down to make sure you hadn’t made a noose out of anchor rope. But it looks like you’re trying to drown yourself in tears instead.’
‘Funny.’ His chest twanged. ‘Nice to know someone’s enjoying my pain.’
‘Not your pain. Medication for my own.’ Pintang gestured behind her before stopping to loosen her fly and wriggle her pants down her slim hips. ‘Margaritas. Jade was a bartender too, but not a very good one. All I can taste is tequila.’ She took her shirt off over her head and sank to the dock beside him. ‘Not that I’m complaining. I’m going to keep drinking until I forget I ever had a brother.’
Lincoln stiffened as yet another horror of the evening lapped against his wearied heart. ‘Oh...man, Tangy-’
But she pressed her finger to his lips, her blue eyes glazed, their usual spark gone but something else behind them. ‘Don’t.’ She said. ‘I would have done it myself if I could.’ She wiped at his tears. ‘I owe you one. Which is exactly why I’m here.’
A shadow passed quickly between Lincoln and the air above him, momentarily blurring the bright moonlight, and was followed by a splash. A moment later, Saraya surfaced, pushing her short dark hair out of her face and behind her ears, affording him a view of her ample, soft chest. He hadn’t even seen her strip!
‘I don’t owe you one.’ She said, smiling knowingly and propping her elbows up onto his knees, regarding his with solicitous brown eyes. ‘I figured you can after though.’
There was a weird buzzing sound in his ears. ‘After?’
‘After we’re done consoling you.’ Pintang whispered in his ear, reminding him that she was there. A mermaid beside him, a mermaid below. A full moon above...their intentions required little translation. He shook his head, too dumbstruck to push away the fingers at the tie of his board shorts.
‘I can’t,’ he whispered, gulping hard. ‘Girls..I...you’re beautiful and right now...oh my god...but-’ he shook his head again. ‘I don’t think I even could. I still feel like I belong to her-’
‘But you don’t.’ Saraya took him in her hand and bent over his lap, her wet hair making him shiver when it released droplets onto his hips. ‘And as a bonus, you’re above the law that applies to most of the others.’
‘Yes, and with Loveridge off the cards, the poor daughters of this kingdom need someone new to fantasize about, and drool over,’ Pintang’s hand was up his shirt. ‘Which Saraya is about to do, whether you think you’re up for it or not.’
‘Oh...he’s up for it.’ Saraya whispered. And then he was in her mouth and Lincoln gasped, bringing his hand down on the back of her head and pushing into her on reflex, needing that rush of euphoria.
‘Mmm..’ Pintang’s lips were under his chin. ‘Save some for me, okay?’
Lincoln groaned, trying to jerk away from the pleasure. ‘I shouldn’t-we should stop! This can hurt people! I mean-’ Grace’s face flashed before his mind, and the enraptured expression on her face when she’d begged him to consider her as a wife. It was the least of his priorities, but the most important of what didn’t yet matter.
‘Actually, Grace is the one who sent us.’ Pintang nibbled on his ear with her teeth. ‘And she had a message for you: Get over her by any means.’
Lincoln’s eyes widened in surprise and his head turned towards the house, his eyes searching until they landed on the silhouette in Grace’s window. She was there, watching him. And there was no mistaking the encouraging smile as she leaned forward to watch closer.
Then Lincoln felt himself yanked into the water and caught by a soft, slippery and insignificant body that was determined to heal him. Seconds later, another was behind him, claiming his mouth while the first resumed her oral assault on his erection. Bodies that didn’t care if it was Ivyanne’s lips he was imagining on his own, or Grace’s virtuous mouth suckling the ache away and leaving only thoughtless pleasure behind.
*
Every part of Ivyanne’s body seemed to pulsate as she clung to Tristan’ trembling body that night. There was no rise and fall between peaks of their frantic lovemaking-when she attempted to gulp in a breath after every scream of relief, he was already turning her over, gripping her back against his chest, spreading her legs so he could get deeper and start building the fire all over again inside her as his hand moved between her thighs, alighting a secondary one. Ivyanne blacked out several times from exquisite ecstasy, and even when it felt like she couldn’t take another thrust, that there’s no way he could fill her even more with his throbbing member, he’d move her again and strike from a different angle, surprising her with his his absolute certainty and expertise of where she needed to feel him this time. Hands, lips, moisture, skin... he was everywhere on her at once and still he made her feel like there were a million more places she needed to be caressed or suckled on.
After who knew how many times, Tristan pulled her into his arms. ‘Come on,’ he whispered gently. ‘There’s something we have to do.’
*
Ivyanne darted around a boulder and slowed herself, turning back to make sure Tristan was keeping up, her smile fading when she saw he wasn’t there. But seconds later, firm arms clenched around her and teeth sank gently into the curve of her neck. A thrill of excitement raced up her spine but she pushed her weight down, slipping out of Tristan’s clutch, shooting backwards through the water beneath his tail.
‘Fast,’ she teased, her words punctuated by bubbles. ‘But not fast enough.’
Tristan turned quickly and beamed at her. ‘You’re challenging me?’ He asked, darting forward, catching the tip of her tail and yanking her back into his arms. His boyish grin was enchanting. ‘Ivyanne Court, your days of running from me are over, remember?’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘From a man like you?’ She shook her head and clucked her tongue, though the sound wasn’t as effective when they were submerged. ‘I’m going to have to play hard to get forever, just to keep you interested.’
He pulled her to him, scowling. ‘I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I’m marrying my first girlfriend. You’re the one with the ice cream parlor problem.’
Ivyanne kissed him, then used the leverage of her hands on his shoulders to shoot upwards and break the surface, needing to giggle. While she was wiping her hair out of her eyes, Tristan emerged before her.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Who told you that?’
He wriggled his eyebrows. ‘Grace, of course. She overheard the whole conversation and reported it back to me.’
Ivyanne was amazed. ‘Was she just a double agent the whole time?’
But Tristan shook his head. ‘No. She just saw an opportunity to take her flavor of choice out of circulation.’ He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his nose against hers. ‘Which flavour was I?’
Ivyanne rested her forehead against his and looked into his eyes. ‘The other thirty,’ she said softly, taking his head in her hands. ‘Enough to last a girl centuries.’
Tristan grinned, clearly delighted. ‘Are you craving any right now?’ He ran the tip of his tongue tauntingly over the shape of her lips. ‘Because I’m melting.’
Ivyanne moaned softly and kissed him, flicking her tail to keep them buoyant as Tristan’s curved around it and assisted. ‘Starving,’ she whispered.
The sun was rising, casting a pink glaze over the surface of the calm ocean around them. At that moment, it felt like the entire planet had been left to them. Swimming with another mer had never felt so natural. And as Tristan intensified the kiss, took control of the moment, she felt the binds around her legs contract then loosen. Sudde
nly it was his ankles around hers, his hard erection pressed teasingly between her upper thighs. Scales floated to the surface like confetti and Tristan back her her up against the bomb rock, one of his broad hands curving around the peak while the other cupped her ass and steered her onto him.
‘God your body is so tight, in and out…’ he growled, gripping the rock and thrusting in and out of her, stirring up the water so it lapped higher and higher against the rock, churning it. The sound of his enthusiastic grunts was driving her out of her mind. She almost couldn’t bear to look at him, for it was thrillingly akin to watching a meteor shower that never ended. A lot of his beauty came down to symmetry, but the most overwhelming aspect was his very being shining through. His lust for life, his desire to see the joke in every tragedy, his need to put the bad behind him, gave him an open, ethereal glow. He knew his teeth were perfect so there was no self-consciousness holding down his smile. He didn’t allow secrets and shames and woes to cling to him and so his eyes reflected only light, not like most people, who tended to let the shadows of their mind darken the sparkle of their eyes. He wanted to smile, and so the panes of his face were always open, and because he was full of so much zest and energy his features were never slack but always animated, constantly looking around the world to see where he was needed and what he could bring to it. He was a specimen of man that put it all out there and kept nothing for himself, and that was where he drew his energy from-not others, and not his inner siren.
And he was hers. The fact that she’d tortured him so and had threatened to dull his glow made her desperate to make amends. Now that her hands could touch his hot, hard body, she knew she’d never be able to stop. ‘How long will this feeling last for?’ she gasped, her body slipping and sliding against the grooves of his. ‘Until the moon wanes?’
Tristan had been looking down where their bodies joined, his wet, blood-flushed lip caught between alarmingly white teeth, but now his eyes lifted and he smiled enigmatically as he rocked into her. ‘You’re going to need-’ he panted ‘-a crow bar if you plan on getting any sleep in the next fifty years.’ His eyes closed briefly, and he looked happily lost as he coaxed euphoria from her sex and left more behind. ‘I’m going to make you forget that there’s anyone on this planet but you and I.’
Ivyanne became boneless at the promise. She saw the sun emerging from the burnt-orange and fuchsia horizon, and felt the beautiful man moving inside her like he’d been created specifically for her. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she hadn’t thought of Lincoln or her choice or Ardhi or any of them else all night. Tears came to her eyes and she buried her face into his neck, grateful that he had freed her with his love. She knew things would be different when she went back to the house or had a minute to herself to think or reflect, but for that moment, there was just her and Tristan and the ocean starting a new life together.
‘You already have,’ she whispered and then fizzled to sea foam as Tristan found her once more.
Epilogue
They were married on Pololu Beach, a private ceremony but certainly not a small one. The mers who could make it on such short notice-which was a considerable amount given the anticipation of the fourth generation Court wedding, gathered in the shallows, some in their true form wading the water, some standing on their two legs in order to get a better view. They formed a circle around the bride and groom, and although none of them were strangers to beauty or eternal love, the tears ran freely from the eyes of the gathered as they tossed their flower offerings into the water and whispered their wishes for happiness and fertility and longevity, as was tradition. Though no one could hold any doubt in their heart that such things were destined for the glorious couple, who instead of holding hands, held each other tightly as though they dared the smallest wave to break between them.
The bride wore the traditional headdress her grandmother had worn when she married the patriarch of the Zara line, a circlet of pearls threaded onto a gold chain. It sat atop her mane of flaxen curls, and fell like a waterfall down her back, string after string of draping pearls gleaming in the sun. Ivyanne’s crown was perched on top of it, freshly polished and gleaming, just as the groom’s did. She lifted it to Tristan’s head and announced him as the only man she would swim with and her king (as the royal joining ceremony was a combination of wedlock and coronation), and although it was not that part of the ritual yet, Tristan pulled her in more tightly and kissed her with renewed passion as the crowd tittered in appreciation. When he pulled back, they were both laughing and crying.
‘I do I do I do!’ Tristan half laughed-half sobbed. ‘Can we go now?’
Ivyanne laughed. They had not made love since the night before and she was just as impatient as he to be alone with him again. If she’d needed more proof that she had made the right decision, then the ability to breathe again now that she was in his arms was indicative of that.
As was Garridan’s black eye, which he’d received while wrestling Tristan back into his own room in the early hours of the morning.
‘In a few minutes, my love,’ she whispered, accepting the handful of flowers from Garridan, who hadn’t stopped grinning proudly since he’d arrived. She handed half to Tristan and smiled. ‘First, our wishes.’
Tristan smiled, taking his and pressing it to his lips as tradition stated. ‘A big, healthy family.’
Ivyanne smiled, then took her own, biting her lip. Tristan knew what she did now, and he was as determined as her to clear up the mystery. ‘A happy fate, for every mer.’ She kissed it and flung it. ‘Especially for Lincoln Grey.’
They watched the flower join the others. The sea around them was a churning carpet of blooms, so that the royal couple were literally soaking in the well wishes of the kingdom. Ivyanne tilted her face up to Tristan’s as everyone began to applaud and hoot happily.
‘You’re a king!’ She exclaimed, feeling her legs begin to fuse together as they began the final step of their joining process-transitioning within the blooms. ‘How does it feel?’
Tristan pulled her tightly against him. ‘Not half as good as being your husband does,’ he whispered, and then his lips found hers and they, and the sun sank together into the sea.
*
Lincoln watched the colorful and private spectacle from the top of the bluff, wiping away the tears streaming down his cheeks as the wind whipped off the pacific and buffeted him. He was cold but he was grateful for having something else to draw focus from what he was witnessing.
Ivyanne and Tristan had disappeared from sight and now the early evening air was full of the sounds and scents of celebration-bonfires raged on the beach and the flames from tiki torches flickered in the wind. The scent of roasting pig and freshly cooked fish wafted up his nostrils and the sole drumbeat made his pulse quicken. He could see them-tiny shadows, dancing and toasting and laughing and swimming, all of them overjoyed to be alive and present on such a magnanimous day.
All except Lincoln. He felt as desolate as he would if Ivyanne had died.
‘I thought you weren’t coming.’
Lincoln flinched and looked behind him. Grace, looking lovely in in a peach sheath dress was picking her way delicately across the top of the bluff, her eyes betraying a myriad of emotions. Primarily, her lips were curved in a knowing smirk-she was beautiful and had taken him by surprise and as a result-felt smug. But there was also a trace of apprehension, and a lot of empathy in those deep eyes.
‘How did you know I was here?’ Lincoln asked. The news of the wedding had been circulating since early Sunday morning and he’d promptly left for the Seaview then, but hadn’t decided to follow his friends across the pacific until daybreak on Tuesday. Then he’d made his way from Oahu to the big island alone, second guessing himself the whole time but knowing he’d never believe she was someone else’s wife until he saw it with his own eyes.
‘A few people spotted you at their motel. They were sort of on the look out, in case you decided to storm the ceremony and carry the queen away.’
Lincoln snorted slightly, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. Though of course, it had. ‘I’m not that pathetic,’ he finally managed as he felt her sit beside him.
‘You’re not pathetic at all.’ Grace said softly, her skin carrying a trace of jasmine scent. One of her hands delicately stroked the back of his. He looked down to see that his knuckles were white, his fingertips pressing into his jeans. He was certain that tension was all over his face. ‘Why did you come?’
Lincoln swallowed hard. ‘To say good-bye.’
‘Do you mean it?’
Lincoln had to look away from the hopeful light both in her eyes and tone. He didn’t respond. ‘I will. In time.’ He pulled his hand out from under hers. ‘But if she can still pull me across the ocean without saying a word or even wanting me around then it’s going to be a long time coming.’
‘I can wait.’
‘Don’t.’ Lincoln rested his chin on his clenched fists, gazing moodily down at the bonfire. The very idea of her re-declaring her love sent a shiver of horror through him. ‘Look where waiting got me.’
‘Beside me,’ her voice was a sigh, ‘where I intend you to stay.’
‘Let’s not anyone of us pretend to know where I belong.’ He said gruffly. ‘Why fate would draw me here just to dump me from such a height is beyond me. I would have been perfectly fine as a human if I’d never met her.’
‘Maybe. But I wouldn’t have been….’ Grace tucked his hair behind his ear. ‘Neither would Michael. You being here has opened millions of doors for our kind.’
And closed the only door that mattered to me. He thought grimly. ‘That’s a nice theory for everyone,’ he said softly. ‘Except me.’
‘You think that now, but in time, your heart will heal. Sooner than you think. And when you’re ready to open a door for yourself, you’re going to find what you always wanted, waiting for you on the other side.’ Lips were against his neck. ‘A girl who could only ever love you, saving herself for the day you finally see that happiness is just one kiss away.’
