by Starla Night
He liked her palm there.
She was trying to tell him she wasn’t horrified. She wasn’t afraid to touch him. She wasn’t secretly thinking he would hurt and betray and disrespect her too.
But the bride was only a small portion of his dishonor.
On the swim back to Dragao Azul, Uvim and Dosan had chatted quietly about meaningless things, but Soren had spent the whole swim going insane.
Up was down and wrong was right. All the things he’d wanted were evil and all the honors he’d pursued were a farce. He’d devoted his whole life to obeying the wrong elders, enforcing the wrong rules, defending the wrong city! He should have welcomed invaders and helped them rip the Life Tree out by the roots.
The only one who would understand him was Kadir. His longtime friend, a male obsessed with the ancient golden era of queens and Atlantis. He’d been imprisoned for those beliefs, and to break him out was suicide.
After Soren had reported the completion of the assignment and the elders told, “Good job, here is your honorable promotion,” he was furious enough to charge at death bare-chested.
And he had been that way ever since.
That was the true betrayal. Dishonoring the bride was bad. Questioning his elders was worse.
“I have no rules,” he said. “No elders. I refuse the title of First Lieutenant. No code of honor binds me.”
“Of course one does.” Aya tapped her fingers, one at a time, on his chest as she enumerated his rules. “You protect Atlantis. You protect King Kadir. You protect your fellow warriors. You protect me.”
His throat constricted. She was not right. He was dishonorable. He fought the emotion welling beneath his chest. “I refuse honor. There is none in me. I disrespect everyone!”
“Okay, let me ask you this.” She scooted closer until their knees touched. Proving, again, that he didn’t frighten her. “If you hadn’t taken that woman to the shore, what would have happened?”
“Punishment,” he said. “I would have been disciplined.”
“No, I mean, to her. Would she have been allowed to stay with her husband and child?”
“Someone else would have taken her.”
“Someone else like those two young, hardened warriors, Dosan and Uvim?”
He had to stop a minute and think back. The hard pounding of his heart didn’t help. Why couldn’t he remember who else was on duty that night?
The First Lieutenant was the new father, and his second had been injured in a previous battle. Some warriors were off fighting, others would have had to be recalled from home.
In the barracks were untrained youths and the old trainer, who rarely swam more than a few clicks. He had just returned with news of the battle. Dosan and Uvim were the only ones. And it had been dicey because five were required for an open ocean swim, and they’d left with only three warriors and an injured bride.
“It would have been those other escort warriors,” she guessed. “The ones who were upset by the woman’s harsh words. You tried to protect them by telling them she would be fine.”
“No.” That was not why he had said those words. He had been a bad person. Insolent, arrogant, certain of his duty. “Wrong.”
She arched her brows. “How?”
“I have been unworthy my whole life.” The emotion shuddered in his soul, and only by speaking these truths could he force it down again. Lock it up in his hard chest. “From my birth. I tried hard to be honorable, and everyone could see it was a lie. They were right. They were always right.”
She rested her other hand on his knee. “They?”
“The elders. Peers. My father. My mother refused to look at me or hold me. She knew what the others soon saw too.”
Aya crawled on top of his lap, resting her knees on either side of his waist, and her other hand on his chest. Both hands on his heart. “Isn’t it likely that she was more like me?”
He frowned, gripping her waist to shift her so she rested more securely on his outstretched legs. “In what way?”
“Don’t you think that, knowing she had to give you up, she pushed you away to protect her own heart?”
Could this be?
A painful pop sounded behind his heart. Like a bone, long dislocated, pushed into alignment. Everything shifted and his chest swelled. A dangerous emotion flared. It would not be contained.
Aya slid her hands up to his jaw, cupping his face. His rough skin caught her soft fingertips, but she didn’t shy away or complain. He captured her hand to keep her from hurting herself on him. Her blue eyes seemed to stare through his defenses right into his soul.
What if his mother had wanted him so much she couldn’t stand her grief losing him? Could it be that he had never been bad? At all?
Sharp pain spiked in his nostrils. The prickles raced to his eyes. What was this sensation? It was like biting into a hot pepper. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.
“It is…my fault,” he managed.
“No.” Aya stroked his jaw with her free hand. “It’s not your fault.”
“I…hurt…everyone…”
“You are a protector at your core, Soren. You tried to protect the warriors under you. And when it was too late, you realized you should have protected the other bride, too.”
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this. This was too much. It was the reason he never thought of these things. Thinking about it broke him.
“I will hurt you.”
Her soft lips pressed against his.
He lay there, afraid to touch her, afraid not to. His control trembled. If she pushed him right now, he would have her. Lay her down, hold her in his arms, bring her to orgasm writhing under his tongue and groaning his name. He had already become too familiar with the softness of her skin, the taste of her feminine sweetness, the sounds of their lovemaking.
She eased back, perhaps surprised at his passivity, or concerned.
He was just grateful for this. Every moment of this. She would soon realize that she was wrong and everyone else was right. And his past would disgust her, too.
Then, she blurted, “I forgive you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Soren’s eyes snapped open and he stared at her in shock.
Aya could have bit her tongue. Was she completely nuts? I forgive you. Where the heck had that come from?
Soren wasn’t asking for her forgiveness. But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the only thing she could do. She didn’t have a time machine to change the past. Reason and logic only went so far. Soren needed a therapist. Or a support group. Or even a spiritual mentor.
Instead, there was only her.
“I mean it,” she said. “You made a mistake. You’ve shared your regrets. You’re trying to live by principles you agree with now. I forgive you.”
His eyes widened even farther. Bug-eyed, almost. He teetered on the edge of either losing it completely or actually beginning to believe her.
And as if he couldn’t take that thought, he leaped up, pushing her off — but ensuring she was safe and didn’t go flying, which proved that even in the hardest shock he still took care — and bolted.
Well.
This argument wasn’t over.
Aya grabbed the ledge, flung herself out, and kicked off, chasing Soren across her courtyard. “You’re still a good person.”
“I am bad!” he bellowed. His fury reverberated like a heavy bass in her chest and the castle walls shuddered. “A mad, bad, disreputable, terrifying, mindless, battle-lust-filled berserker. A monster!”
Well, sure, he was covered in terrifying tattoos, and technically, mermen were listed as fairytale monsters.
“But a good-hearted one,” she said.
“You worked to exhaustion and have become mentally deficient.” He slammed his index finger at her chest. “And that makes me fear for your safety. You are restricted to your castle. Not the city, not the Life Tree. You may not leave here. Your castle.”
He was trembling.
“Fine
then.” She crossed her arms and turned up her nose. “I guess if I can’t leave here, we can’t get married.”
He blinked. Then frowned. Then frowned harder. “You…”
A sudden shaft of fear sliced into her. Shouldn’t he be happy she finally agreed to marry him? Now, he hesitated and seemed conflicted.
Had he changed his mind?
“Merman warrior!” Ciran flew into the courtyard. His eyes were white with panic. “Mer—megalodon. It is coming!”
Her heart stopped.
Ciran rushed to Soren, his salute lost in panic. “Behind me. The noise. You can hear it. It is not turning aside!”
“Get everyone out of the city!” Soren ordered. Ciran wheeled to obey. “Gather around the Life Tree. Make for the old ruin!”
Soren scooped Aya around the waist and flew out of the courtyard after Ciran. The tunnel zoomed by. Her heart raced and she could barely get her breath. Soren burst into the city.
A high-pitched noise, higher than at the trench, seemed to suck the air out of the oceanic sky. An unnatural current floated loose moss and fish in a direction it had never gone before. The castles and the Life Tree shifted on their anchors.
The other castle exploded with panicked mer. Warriors fumbled tridents and strapped on daggers as they swam.
Elyssa and the peach-tattooed warrior Zoan emerged from the Life Tree sanctuary, meeting with the gathering warriors. Soren kicked to the middle and shouted. “Form partners. Swim to the old ruin. Go!”
The warriors saluted and swam.
Zoan floated beside Elyssa, who was otherwise without her guards. Soon it was just the four of them. Soren’s head whipped from side to side, up and down, searching the ocean.
“Where are your guards?” he demanded.
“Faier and Tial are at the old ruin,” Elyssa answered. “Ciran and Gailen have just now gone to see the megalodon.”
“What!”
Aya felt sick. She’d liked both the warriors.
“They hope to learn more about who’s guiding it and why.” Elyssa cupped her elbow and stared to the distant horizon. Under the water, they could see for miles. Nothing was visible now. Only the eerie noise. “In case this is another false alarm.”
He growled. Fear and anger blackened his scowl. His grip on Aya tightened. “They are going to get themselves killed.”
“I think they felt like they had no other way to contribute.” Elyssa smiled. “Everyone wants to feel useful.”
“I would have given them another way! If the megalodon sees them, it may no longer be a false alarm, regardless of what our enemy wants. We must go to the ruin. Now.”
He swam with Aya.
Elyssa didn’t move.
Zoan also remained. Mischief twinkled in his eyes, as though wondering how long it would take Soren to realize he was being disobeyed.
It was not long.
He returned to Elyssa in a new fury. “Leave.”
She patted his bulging bicep. Her smile took in Aya also. “You know I can’t.”
“You cannot fight a megalodon!”
They argued, Soren shouting and Elyssa holding her ground.
Aya understood a little how Ciran and Gailen felt. This problem was insurmountable. There was so much to do and not enough people to do it. She too had been angry to be denied going to the ruin. What else could she do?
The warriors of Atlantis had sacrificed so much already. Leaving behind their cities, forfeiting their futures. She had destroyed her family’s company, but these warriors had already given up their homes, their fathers, and their very heritage.
She had to help them. Not just for Elyssa or Soren. For all of them.
For herself.
She interrupted the helpless argument.
“Elyssa. Your ‘power’ is healing.” Aya considered the monstrous Life Tree, the size of a cathedral below her, and still asked the question. Because someone had to. “Is it possible to uproot the Life Tree and carry it with us to safety?”
Soren jolted.
Zoan also looked white.
Soren answered. “Uprooting the Life Tree is how a monarch is executed and a city is erased.”
But they didn’t have super power-wielding queens in those other cities.
Elyssa looked down, tracing the size of the Life Tree. Her answer was soft over the constant wind tunnel of the megalodon. “Severing a small part of the Life Tree almost killed Kadir. His body turned black and cold beneath my hands. There was nothing I could do.” She looked up at Aya with shining eyes. “I would rather fight the megalodon with my bare hands than go through that again.”
So, no then.
Soren sputtered about Elyssa’s answer. “Bare hands are useless.”
“You should cultivate a more offensive power,” Aya said.
“Maybe that’s your power,” Elyssa replied, ignoring Soren. “I’m surprised, Aya. You were a state champion swimmer, second in your graduating class at Harvard, and you harpooned a merman in the arm during an undersea battle with a submersible. These are not ordinary accomplishments. Yet you’ve been underwater for four times as long as I was and you still can’t make your fins. Are you sure you’re really trying?”
Heat washed over Aya. She struggled against Soren to face Elyssa completely. “I haven’t had time.”
Elyssa shook her head, tsking. “Would the old Aya have said that?”
“I don’t know which muscle to flex! Look, it’s not my fault.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
“I haven’t needed to go anywhere fast.” She turned in the direction of the wind. “Until now.”
Elyssa swam up to her and poked her in the back. “Making your fins is the first step in capturing your power. Because once you feel it in your fins, it’s the same feeling to use your powers. Only stronger.”
But she didn’t know. She was trying to plan a defeat of the megalodon and worry about the city and heal Soren and…
Excuses. After all.
“Well, no time like the present to learn,” Elyssa said.
“Good. You train her,” Soren said, “while we all swim to the old ruin.”
“I’m not going, Soren.”
He snarled to fight with her.
An excruciating shriek, as loud and terrifying as a bomb going off, sliced across the city. The old ruin trembled. Dust puffed. The water darkened.
“They did it,” Zoan said aloud.
Elyssa smiled. “Good job, Kadir.”
The current changed direction and the inhaling noise abated. The megalodon had turned aside. Tinkling stillness, the holy radiance of the Life Tree, blanketed the city like an answered prayer.
Elyssa let out a huge sigh. “I, uh, need to calm my heart. I’m going to meditate with the tree if that’s alright with all of you.” She descended into the Life Tree sanctuary.
Zoan saluted them, relief shivering in his face, and joined Elyssa. He apparently spent most of his time tending to it and guarding it anyway, and did well at both jobs.
No time like the present to learn.
Aya wiggled. “Let go.”
Soren growled. “You are going to your castle.”
“No, I’m going to the Life Tree sanctuary. I’ll meet you at the ruins — with my powers and my fins.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Soren released her with a growl about staying behind in the city where it was safe.
“Better raise the second stage quickly then,” she called after him.
He kept swimming. From behind, he was all power and muscle and black fins.
She would soon join him.
Aya paddled down, passing the broken petals that had once sheltered the young Life Tree. Blake had broken them, crumbling the marble-hardened petals with the submersible. With half its dome missing, it was wrecked but still beautiful, like the Acropolis.
Inside, she followed the remaining curves down to the tree.
From above, its bare, wintery-white branches radiated out. According to repo
rts, a fully grown Life Tree would drip Sea Opals like white Christmas balls and put forth water lily-style blossoms full of nectar.
When she’d been a human, she hadn’t been able to see or hear anything. She had bumbled around in the cloistered, cave-like, frigid, blinding darkness. The Life Tree had looked like a weird stick. The petals enclosing it had looked like a fragile shell. She’d thought Elyssa had been lying. About everything.
Now, she heard the holy sacredness. The tinkling that shushed the background noise of the ocean, and laid a calming, holy peace over her heart.
As she descended to the white dais where the Life Tree anchored, she noticed all that and more.
Blake’s damage became starkly obvious.
The stump of the old tree had been hacked apart, sawed and splintered by Blake’s ugly submersible claw. The new tree grew from the stump. Although both were holy white, the old tree had a sheen of silver mixed in. The new tree had silver, but also cherry blossom pink undertones. They were mixed, and they were both growing. The stump put forth branches and new sapling stretched radiantly for the sky. It was as though their united energies made them stronger and more resilient. Two trees united and growing as one.
Aya wasn’t sorry to have stood up to Blake and lost her life defending it.
Her human life, anyway.
She bounced on the white dais floor. “It looks great.”
“Thanks.” Elyssa stuck a long pruning knife into the ground.
It was made of a metal they called adamantium and stopped the salt of a cut exposure from leaking into and poisoning the tree. When Blake had ripped the tree in half, Elyssa had cauterized the stump by cutting it off below the poison.
“Even I’m surprised at my green thumb.” Elyssa frowned up at the broken ceiling. “I’m thinking about whether we should try to enclose it again. I’m not sure how, but I want to keep it as safe as possible from what’s coming.”
Apparently when first planted, a Life Tree grew inside a protective petal layer. Then, when it was large enough, the petal layer peeled back and formed an outer base to the dais.
“According to your report before, intact petals aren’t necessary for All-Council city recognition,” Aya said. “If you’re worried about the megalodon, I wouldn’t waste your time.”
