by D. K. Combs
When deciding if Ambrose should be exiled or not.
“Now,” D’Marci said after several moments of tense silence. “News has come to our attention that the exiled king—“
Instantly, the room erupted into chaos. The sister god didn’t even get a chance to speak before men were roaring with outrage, woman were screeching, and any other creature in attendance was beginning to have cardiac arrest at just the mention of Ambrose.
The only people to stay silent were Ceto, Maxroy, and Aixya.
The chaos lasted seconds, because the next moment, X’Zaree roared, “Silence! All of you.”
“You cannot mean that—“
“The Exiled One is not the heir any longer—“
“He is alive?”
“My brother said to be silent, and we expect you to honor his wish after all he has done for you,” D’Marcee whispered, catching each eye of those who had spoken. The room was brought back to silence, but Ceto could feel the unease. Shit, it was wrapping around her chest like a vice, how could she not feel it?
D’Rai looked right at Ceto when she spoke next, making her inch backwards. The blood seeping out of her stomach had fallen into a puddle, one that she accidentally slipped in.
Hands automatically correct her slip, and she looked back—to find Maxroy. His face, unlike earlier, was no longer kind and tender. Hard lines of grief were now etched into his face like he’d been made out of granite.
Ceto swallowed. “Thank you…”
The gods spoke over her, and she focused once again on them, almost nervous to hear what they were going to say.
“He has been banned past his due. Atlantis is feeling the effects of his absence and he has matured into a strong, compassionate man. It is time he return to the throne—“
“No!”
“What the fuck!”
“You can’t be serious!”
“He ruined your subjects lives by what he did, and you want to restore him to power?”
D’Rai lifted a regal hand, silencing all again. Ceto couldn’t meet the ancient in the eye. “We are not to blame him for what happened thousands of years ago. Our people have adapted, become stronger, more advanced—and they are, in fact, protected by his actions.”
“Protected? What he did killed my whole family!”
“Ask yourselves,” C’Xarion cut in. “Do you have concrete proof that The Destruction was his fault? Someone else could have tampered with the Book of the Sea. There were many times when we thought our home was peaceful. Have none of you thought that there might have been another person, using him as a scapegoat? It was never proven. You were all driven by your emotions to place the blame on the young heir so you could cope with your losses better.”
People shifted on their feet uneasily. Ceto knew for a fact that no one had thought it could be anyone other than Ambrose to sink Atlantis. Otherwise, they would have realized who had really done it. Did the gods have any idea? They were so wrapped up with trying to retain peace that they she had to wonder if they suspected anything of her.
Which was stupid.
Of course they did.
D’Rai hadn’t taken her eyes off of Ceto the whole entire time.
Ceto paled.
Were they going to take care of her now? Or had Ambrose’s punishment been enough? She doubted D’Rai knew what Ceto had done to him, and what she still planned on doing. The gods were all-knowing, but they weren’t that all-knowing. Right?
Her stomach started to churn, and she almost screamed with a soft hand touched her shoulder lightly.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Aixya whispered. The hope shining in her eyes made Ceto feel like…she had no clue. But she didn’t like it. The ache in her chest only grew worse when she saw Maxroy’s face.
“He’s finally coming back.” The reverence there—it almost brought her to her knees. There had been a time where she would have felt that same reverence to have him come back. She knew what Maxroy and Aixya were thinking.
Ambrose would come back, and everything would go back to normal. He would rule, he would give Atlantis and it’s people what they needed. They would finally have their friend back with them.
Ceto had never planned for this to happen. He was not meant to come back and take over the throne. He was not meant to be anywhere except in her cave, and yet this was happening.
It was actually happening.
“It’ll be just like old times,” Aixya said at her ear. Ceto wanted to deny it, but a second later, a thin pair of arms were wrapping around her tightly, squeezing her. Confusion rolled through her, and then torment.
The last time she had seen Maxroy, it had been at Ambrose’s trial. The look on his face…had killed her. It had torn her a part from the inside out, ripped at her soul, and even now? Just thinking about it? The image made her want to sob.
And it made her want to kill Ambrose.
Maxroy had always liked Ambrose better. The four of them, Aixya, Ambrose, Maxroy, and Ceto, had been friends since the very beginning. At first, it had been Aixya and Ambrose flirting and trying their hand at “dating,” leaving Maxroy to Ceto.
She’d fallen headfirst in love with him. Everything about him, everything he did, everything he was. Two children from completely different families, and the fates had made her fall in love with him—a man who didn’t return her love, who wanted Aixya more than anything in the ocean.
But of course, Maxroy had wanted his friend, the king, to be happy. He’d watched from the sidelines as Ambrose slowly wooed the innocent Aixya, and Ceto had watched from the proverbial ditch as everyone loved everyone else…except her.
Unwanted by her father, unwanted by her mother, and unwanted by her aunt, Ceto had to go through the pain of watching Ambrose get all the attention. Had to watch the spoiled king take her friends and bend them to his way.
When she was younger and a lot less…malicious, she had known he didn’t do it on purpose. Ambrose cared—about everyone and everything. He was as charming as the moon, and as charismatic as anything could have been.
Ceto had grown older hating them. Ambrose had realized Maxroy loved Aixya, and had set her off. In tears, of course, but into the arms of his best friend. Ceto had been left to herself at that point. Ambrose was too busy trying to keep their city hidden from the mortals, and Maxroy and Aixya were learning each other in ways that Ceto had been jealous of.
But the love he felt for Aixya…Ceto had seen it in his eyes. Could still see it now. Could still feel the ripping of her soul from that day when he’d made it clear, as gently as possible, that he didn’t want her. Just like everyone else.
Aixya was too innocent and too sweet to be bothered with Ceto’s pain. The two of them had been best friends, even when Aixya had started her relationship with Maxroy. The girl was too kind, too gentle, and everything that Ceto wasn’t. Maybe that was why Ceto couldn’t bring herself to hate her, even to this day.
Aixya only wanted the best for everyone. Everyone should be happy, safe, and healthy. One little rift in her life and it would crash and burn—and even an evil thing like Ceto realized that Aixya was a rarity in the world.
So Ceto had waited. The hate, the pain—it had all grown inside of her until it was festering like a disease. Ambrose had gone away on a trip, alone. No one knew where but no one had known either way. He liked to take time to himself, just as long as he never went too far. Atlantis was well-protected and nothing could harm their king, because not only were they invisible, he was also one of the best warriors to have ever been witnessed.
That was when she realized that she could ruin him. Tear him a part. Strip him of his cushioned life and make him realize that nothing was given freely. His time of leisure cost him the city he adored and protected with his life.
She could still remember sneaking into the room where the Book of the Sea was. The guards hadn’t been around, for whatever reason. She’d counted it as a stroke of luck for herself.
The book… It had fe
lt heavy. Like the world rested within it—which it had.
Ceto had done the only thing that she could think of—she tore the book away from the Soul of the Sea, and dropped it to the floor.
The second it had touched the ground….she would never forget the way the earth cried out with pain, or the way the people around her began to panic. Where was the king? Why wasn’t he saving them? What was going to happen? Why was this happening?
As soon as she’d dropped the book, she also taken out the blade he had given each of his closest friends. They were all identical to his—a symbol of how much he trusted them. It was a warrior’s greatest honor to bestow a friend the same blade as his own.
In the wreck, his own had been lost…and never found. Ceto had taken it from his quarters before the final collapse of the ocean’s plating brought them under the water.
That had been the end to him. His knife had been found at the Book of Sea’s room, and Ceto had been nowhere in sight. No one had doubted her when Ceto said she’d seen him going to the ancient room. No one had seen the look of utter destruction and betrayal break him right in half as he stood in the exact same place that she stood now—at the center of the blood red symbol in the gods’ royal room.
And standing right where they had been on that same day as well were Maxroy and Aixya. Their arms were still around each other, and they were both crying just like they had the last time she’d seen them. Except this time, they weren’t crying from heartbreak. Maxroy was crying because his best friend was coming back.
Maxroy had never been one to sob in his life. But when his friend since childhood was dragged in, bound, bloodied, and confused…he’d broken down. And that was when Ceto’s heart finally took the final break.
She could feel the coldness seeping through her again just at the memory. Aixya and Maxroy had been wrapping in each other, and Ceto had been left alone.
That was all there was to it. They still cared about their friend more than her; they still wanted him to rule, and they still wanted him. After all the years apart, they could have said something, anything to her. But they hadn’t. For whatever reason, they had never tried talking to her again.
And she’d made it her personal goal to make Ambrose’s life worse than it already was. She used him, abused him, fucked him, stole from him. There were no ties between them that didn’t involve pain, sex, and blood.
The second he’d been exiled, no one wanted to escort him out.
So what had Ceto done?
Taken him for herself. If no one wanted her, and no one wanted him, they should be perfect together—or he should be perfect to use.
D’Rai’s voice broke into her thoughts just then.
“Anyone who attempts to deter him from taking the throne will be punished severely, either indirectly or directly. Anyone who attempts to aid him in taking the throne back will also be punished. It’s the true heir’s right to gain back his throne and that is exactly what he will do.”
Ceto stared at the perfect little bitch-god, her fury renewed. No one was allowed to deter him?
Well, she was just going to see how much she could play the gods, because Ambrose was not going to make it back to Atlantis.
She was just forming a slow, confident smirk while staring D’Rai straight in the eyes when she realized what she’d done. The message to Ambrose, to whoever saw him, telling him that he was needed at Atlantis immediately.
The only reason she had sent for him was to have him ambushed by the guards. Her elaborate story of Ambrose raping and beating, and then stalking her to the throne, was down the drain now, since he was already meant to be on his way, and expected…
Unless…
Ceto grinned.
The present king wasn’t going to be too happy having his throne stolen from him, was he?
Oh no. Definitely not.
Whatever that guy had said to him, it wasn’t good. Mari could tell by the tightness in Ambrose’s expression, and the way he held himself when he came back into the room.
She quickly moved back from the door, trying not to feel guilty over listening to their conversation. Her legs were still present, so she couldn’t move back with the speed she’d become accustomed to.
Ambrose stared at her—or more like through her. His face was so pale it looked like chalk and his tail was back. In less than a minute, the mood was ruined and Mari felt more embarrassed than she ever had in her life.
The desire was still thrumming through her body. Where his hands had touched, fire burned. Her breasts were heavy and she could barely handle the pounding of her heart. Ambrose was...amazing. Perfect. And he didn’t want her anymore.
Mari peered up at him, crossing her arms over her chest, hiding how hard her nipples were.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“Nothing. Listen, ah... Calm down enough to be able to go in public—” She blushed at the way his eyes looked over her like he couldn’t help himself, before he turned away from her with a red face. Mari saw the faint glimmer of his legs beneath his aqua tail and she smiled before she could stop herself.
“Just come downstairs when you are ready.” He barely cast her a glance before shooting out of the door, closing it softly behind him.
Ambrose was a god in bed, yet he couldn’t face her afterwards?
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door.
God, when the pounding on the door hard started, she thought they were about to be kicked out or attacked. Ambrose had been too caught up with her to even notice what was happening. But in seconds flat, when she’d finally gotten through to him even while she wanted to force him to keep going, he’d jumped into action.
And damn if that wasn’t hot.
Mari scrubbed a hand over her face. She really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, not when Ambrose had told her to specifically to calm down. How could she? All she could think about was Ambrose’s mouth kissing more than just her mouth.
Puppies. Think about puppies. They had no relation to Ambrose and his sex-god persona at all. Except puppies played in water, water was what Ambrose was in, and Ambrose had some damn great hands… Mari groaned loudly, wrapping her arms around her waist and kicking her feet with frustration. Cows? Cows didn’t like water. They drank it, though, like Ambrose had tried to drink her.
“Oh my god,” she hissed, slapping a hand over her face. “Calm down, Mari. Just calm down and think of things that cannot be related to Ambrose….like what had happened to her when she’d passed out, and what had happened before she had.
Ambrose had done something to the men. She only just realized that him taking down that many men at once, all of whom were three times his size, seemed impossible. What had he done to take them out, and why was lead guy helping them? She remembered how Ambrose had looked right after the fight, and realized that his wounds were completely gone. She’d felt his back, and there were no open wounds. She’d kissed his lips, and they hadn’t been busted. She’d traced his face, and it hadn’t been bruised.
Would she heal just as quickly? For some reason, the thought made her shiver. Mari didn’t want to be some fishy freak who could regenerate body parts at will—although, if she had been a doctor, she could easily picture cutting her own arm just to see what would happen. Mari looked down at the limb in question, lifting it, pursing her lips?
Would she heal like Ambrose? She lifted it closer to her face, examining her arm. Then she narrowed her eyes. If she couldn’t, then she could hinder Ambrose. Species healed at certain rates purely for survival. If she couldn’t keep up with Ambrose, he would treat her like she wasn’t good enough and keep her in a padded area. And having lived in a padded area with Ray her whole life, she wasn’t going to go back to it.
Shrugging, and doing this only because she thought it was for their better good, she bit into her arm. The pain was slow in coming, but the second she tasted blood, she felt it. She pulled back, cursing, studying her arm.
Nothing.
The blood welled in little pits created by her teeth. Her shoulders slumped. Ambrose would have to know that she was a weak little fish and couldn’t heal herself like him—
She barely noticed it, but movement caught in the corner of her eye. Mari snapped to attention, staring at her arm.
The flesh was moving over her arm like it had a mind of it’s own. Like a make-shift Band-Aid, her own flesh began to separate from her body, only attached by a thin piece of skin.
And then it wiggled in the water.
Just…wiggled. Like a worm.
Mari stared for all of a second before flinging her arm out and screaming at the top of her lungs. A worm had invaded her body! “Get it out, get it out, getitthefuckout!”
Oh sweet god. She was infected and there were living worms in her body that were trying to steal her skin as their own and holy shit it was wiggling more and trying to enter her teeth marks.
Mari screeched even louder, jumping off of the bed. She was so terrified that she didn’t even notice as her tail began to form. The golden scales wound their way over her feet, calves, thighs, waist, then breasts. Soon, she was once again a mermaid and another worm had popped out of her arm, making a piece of her flesh stick up and wiggle.
The door slammed into the wall.
Mari didn’t care who it was. She was too panicked, to grossed out, too close to losing her mind.
“Get this damn worm out of me,” she screamed at whoever had entered, flinging herself at them and shoving her arm in their face. “Get it out!”
Three men were standing in the door, none of which were Ambrose. As her eyes began to sting and her lip tremble, they stared at her, looking completely lost.
“God damn it!” she cried, shoving her arm at them again. “Worms! Get them out! I’m too young to be invaded by parasites—just get them out!” By the time she was done screaming at them, Mari stood there with her arm in their faces, tears floating out of her eyes, and chest heaving from all of the effort that it took to be so terrified.
“We must get Ambr—“
“No,” she screamed in their faces, stabbing a finger at the wiggling worm that was covered in her skin. “This thing is trying to steal my skin. And you cod-sucking bastards need to fix it! Now!”
