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Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3)

Page 35

by Rauscher, Meaghan


  “It stings,” I said; an understatement. “I don’t remember…who are—what is—I’m confused.” I hung my head, unable to come up with a clear thought.

  The merman chuckled, the sound easing my nerves. “My name is Lord Morven and you are in Hyvar. You have a right to be confused, you went through quite an ordeal.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes,” he nodded and curled his hand beneath my chin to raise my eyes to his again. “Do you know your name?”

  I began to shake my head, but the dream came back to me. I remembered the wind, the rain, the water frothing near my feet, and then the voice, calling to me. He had said my name.

  “Marina?” I asked, and he smiled.

  “Yes,” he said again.

  “What’s Hyvar?” I asked barely above a whisper. “Why am I here? I don’t, I don’t remember anything.”

  “Ahh,” he said and held up his hand. He walked over to one of the chairs and placed it before the bed, directly in front of me. When he sat, he was closer, his features sharper and more defined.

  Like smooth stone. I had the thought again and knew it was right.

  “You’re special, Marina. You have abilities other merfolk don’t.” He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to speak. “I can see you remember me, and it’s true we have known each other for a while now. But you used to be weak. I made you stronger. You have more power than any mermaid or merman.”

  My brow furrowed. He wasn’t making any sense.

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “I don’t expect you to” He chuckled again, the sound pleasant. “But you don’t need to worry about anything.”

  I nodded and attempted to smile back, the result was a feeble lifting of my lips. He ducked his head, drawing my eyes back up to his.

  “I need your help. There are merfolk attacking Hyvar and we have to protect it.”

  Startled, I gazed into his eyes and found him to be completely serious. “What can I do?”

  “You will use your gift,” he whispered.

  “Oh.” My mouth rounded as I tried to think of what he could mean. There was nothing special about me, except for the prickling burn in my shoulder.

  “Hyvar has to be protected from those who seek to destroy us.” He grasped my hand and the contact had an immediate effect on me. Where my skin had been on fire, it now cooled with a delicious softness I reveled in. This was the water I had been longing for.

  “Why are they attacking Hyvar?” I asked, nearly breathless. The space between us closed, if only slightly.

  “We’re holding one of their mermaids captive.” He waved a hand to dispel it. “They’ve been trying to break in for three days, but we’ve held them back.”

  “That’s a long time,” I said, still focused on the thumb rubbing against the back of my palm.

  “Yes, yes, it is.” He squeezed my hand.

  “If I’m as powerful as you say, can I stop them?” I whispered, looking up through my eyelashes to meet his grey gaze.

  He was calm, body relaxed and casual, but his eyes were what drew me to him. There was something stirring deep inside him, a passion and excitement hidden behind the façade of composure.

  “You will stop them.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth the burning in my shoulder increased, I closed my eyes feeling the need to please him. His words ran through my mind over and over again, until I was certain I could do nothing else but stop these enemies trying to take over. My body hurt, throbbing with fire and unrestrained pain, but it all drifted back as his words overcame all further thought. He believed I could—his confidence is what I needed. My hand balled into a fist beneath his fingers.

  “I will,” I breathed. He nodded.

  “Yes,” he leaned in and his breath swirled around my lips. “Now, stand.”

  Again, his voice pulled at something inside me. To obey him was all I could think of.

  My mind had gone foggy, his command running through my head and taking over all thought. The fear of what kind of pain I would feel, no longer concerned me, and as the confidence of his words spread, a coolness began to seep into my shoulder.

  The fire tamed for a moment, prickling with ice, but the feeling was anything but refreshing. Pushing against his hand, I braced my feet and stood on shaking limbs. Sweat beaded on my brow and slipped down my cheeks, as the ice in my shoulder doubled, but I refused to let the tears pooling in my eyes fall.

  He was watching me when I reopened my eyes, his face slowly coming into focus. He straightened his body, and I only came up to his chin when he stood to his full height. My throat went dry as I took in his shoulders and the overwhelming size of him.

  He was all I could see, his body blocking everything else around me.

  He lowered his head and I knew what he wanted. Without thought, I turned my mouth up to his. Our lips met, and I sighed. The world beneath my feet fell away, drifting into the background, as I reveled in his touch.

  He was ice to quench my fire, and I gave a soft groan as he deepened the kiss. I leaned into him, wanting more when he drew back, leaving me in a fire of my own.

  Our breath mingled, the sweet scent of his mouth pulling me to him.

  “Clean yourself up.” He gestured toward a tub I hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll wait outside.”

  I was moving before he finished speaking.

  The metal basin was cold to the touch and as the door clicked behind me, I moved with stiff limbs to peel off the dark clothing I was wearing. There were gashes in the fabric in various places, and I was shocked to see the flesh beneath was bruised. In more than one spot, traces of deep cuts and slices to my flesh were evident. Their scabs crusted and dried, some peeling off, as I attempted to remove the tattered shirt.

  Each move sent a shattering burn across my shoulder, and my blades appeared as if from nowhere to cut away at the fabric. It was already ruined.

  The fabric fell to the floor without ceremony. When I stepped into the metal basin, I found the water pleasantly lukewarm. After scrubbing my body and removing the dried blood from my skin, I stepped out of the water feeling fresh. For a moment, I stared at the lavender scar on my hip, wondering why it was different from the others. Its color shimmered, though there was no light for it to reflect.

  “Hurry up,” his voice came through the door like a beacon, and I began to move faster than I thought possible.

  My skin dried instantly, and before my mind could really catch up to what was happening, I was in a black corseted dress. Getting my left arm through the arm hole was more painful than I expected, but when the task was done, I was able to lace up the bodice with nimble fingers. The heavy skirt billowed to the floor in folds of pitch fabric, rippling in little waves whenever I moved. The sleeves of the dress reached to my elbow and when I chanced a glance in the mirror, standing off to the side, I noticed the low cut and how it hung off my shoulders.

  Out of curiosity, I turned backward, taking in the wound along my shoulder and gasped. There were two scars; one older than the other. The first ran down the edge of my shoulder where it disappeared beneath the sleeve. The other, was breathtaking. It gleamed in a way I couldn’t explain, or had only seen once before on my hip. They were a matching pair, except this one was larger. It started at the base of my neck and ran in an angle toward my left arm, where it ended just before reaching my side. Turning back and forth, the lavender winked at me in the mirror.

  “Get out here.”

  All other thoughts fled and I moved to push against the heavy wooden door, only to enter another chamber. Glancing around the room, I had the sudden feeling I had seen it before.

  A deep hearth filled with licking flames lit the chamber, a thick table laden with papers took up most of the room and a high-backed chair faced one of the walls. I was just able to catch a glimpse of chains hanging from the wall when Lord Morven grasped my arm, directing my attention to him.

  A memory of sorts stirred in the back of my mind, I had the vagu
est notion I had been in this room before. As soon as the thought entered my mind, it fled. There was something hiding in the thought, as though behind a veiled curtain. I tried to remember, but there was nothing I could do to reach behind the veil. It might as well have been a wall.

  “Come with me,” he took a step back and I followed him—my shoulder growing deliciously cool at his words.

  The shadows in the hallway shrouded us in a state of constant darkness. There were no sounds, aside from the thrum of our feet hitting the stone floors. His boots echoed off the walls, while my calloused toes padded with barely a sound. The billowing skirt of the dress I wore, flared around my legs, at times swirling when I kicked it out of the way of my pacing feet.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. Again, the pitch of my voice surprised me.

  “You’ll see.” He smirked, and a part of my heart lifted, even as I glanced at the walls surrounding us. This place was much larger than I had thought. With all the winding and turning we were doing, I was certain I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to the room I woke up in.

  We paced down a hall, turning right at the end of it, scaling up some stairs, and then turning left at the end of another hall. Rounding the corner, an open entry room stood erect with arched ceilings, windows decorated the right wall and carvings depicting rolling waves were etched into the ancient stone, drawing my eye toward the massive doors on our left. They were shut, but murmuring voices hid just beyond. Running my eyes over the rest of the room, I passed by the windows and looked toward the flying stone above, only to return to the glass once more.

  My mouth fell open as I realized just what I was seeing.

  Daring to step closer to the window, I was still ten feet away when Morven placed a hand on my uninjured shoulder. “That’s close enough,” he said, the lavender scar cooling on my skin.

  I stopped in my tracks, but there was something in his voice which encouraged me to keep looking.

  A gentle slope cascading in the grass, drifted toward sandy shores where sea foam frothed against the lip of the land. Resolute trees guarded either side of the open shore, creating a focal point for the ocean where an orange orb floated in the sky, its light growing weaker by the moment. Squinting through the streams of pastel light, I was attracted to the flickering tails and moving bodies silhouetted along the shore.

  The aftermath of a battle lay beneath my feet—bodies strewn about the open shore. Destruction and death was all I could see, a sigh passed through my lips.

  Leaning forward without moving my feet, the sight unfolded beneath my eyes and I suddenly felt at peace. Limp bodies were being dragged or carried to the water’s edge, but I felt as though this was something I knew. Death, it had a call I wanted to answer.

  A smile drew up the corners of my mouth, and looking to Morven, I raised my eyebrows in request. He nodded and I surged forward until the glass was beneath my fingers.

  Orange sunlight, brushed with crimson hues, reflected off the water, casting many of the merfolk in shadow. Their tails flickering, but their faces remaining a mystery.

  “What are they called?” The words coming from my lips were on the cusp of turning into something musical.

  “Lathmorians.”

  The word surrounded me, and when his fingers wrapped around my shoulders, little bumps rose along my flesh. He smelled of smoke and dew, fresh air and fire mixed together in an adulterous embrace. I reveled in it, allowing it to take over all my senses.

  “How many?”

  “A couple hundred.” I felt him shrug. My back brushed against his chest, and I inhaled.

  Even though he had told me the number, I continued to scan the bodies. Some moved along the shore, helping to place the dead into their watery grave, while others were on watch. I almost laughed to myself, thinking how miserable they looked. It was pitiful to see the way they kept their eyes focused on the castle, while others took care of the fallen.

  Morven’s hair brushed my cheek before his lips began a trail along my neck. When he reached my left shoulder, I winced at the pain. “Was I part of this?”

  He nodded, his hair brushing against mine. Strands fell forward, the light blonde mingling with the black in a way I couldn’t explain.

  My eyes began to close, as I leaned into him, when a certain merman among the Lathmorians caught my eye. He was tall, broad, and muscular. If it was possible, the setting sun only seemed to enhance every contour of his body. Golden hair fell in careful strips across his forehead, caressing his neck.

  Morven’s lips forgotten, I watched this new creature move back and forth between the shores and the water. He scooped up the wounded and dead as though they weighed nothing, returning them to the cool embrace of the ocean, before gently letting them go. The bodies would disintegrate in time, but it was the way he treated the wounded that held my attention.

  He carried them into the surf, allowing the swathing foam to run over their many wounds—his head bowed as he spoke to them. They clung to his arms in their desperation. As their strength increased they slipped away, holding themselves up in the water, allowing it to heal their wounds.

  With each body, the merman would straighten at the water’s edge before returning to retrieve another casualty of the battle. Over and over again, I watched him perform the same movements until after letting a deceased mermaid slip beneath the water’s embrace, he stood and raised his face to the stone walls.

  The world was pulled out from under me.

  Everything. It all came back in a flooding rush, coursing through my mind and body with a power I didn’t know I could withstand. As suddenly as I had awakened, I remembered—all of it. It was the flipping of a switch inside my mind.

  My heart was thrumming faster than ever, as each breath came in a short gasp.

  Dread gripped my stomach as I felt his breath on my neck, and my gut turned to ice. My hands trembled against the glass even as I felt Morven wrap his arms around my waist.

  “Why?” I gasped. “Why do I remember?” I was focused on the one silhouette I knew. He was as familiar to me as my own shadow.

  He hadn’t remembered, why do I? Why?! My thoughts screamed.

  “Ahh,” Morven’s hands tightened around my waist and a knot curled inside my belly. I had kissed him, willingly. The thought was enough to make the contents of my stomach flip. “I expected you to remember.”

  “But,” I was still gasping, grasping at loose strands of thought, “he didn’t, he didn’t remember. And you said I wouldn’t…”

  “Did I?” he questioned. I reeled back trying to remember if he had said the words. “The blade he carries in his shoulder is my mother’s, I only have partial control over him. I needed him to forget.” It was all an unending nightmare, he had told me these things before, but I didn’t want to believe the truth he was about to lay at my feet. “But you don’t need to. You will do as I say no matter what you remember.”

  Throat constricted, tears welled in the bottom of my eyes. I forced them back.

  I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not now.

  Patrick scooped up another fallen soldier and carried the limp body to the water. I followed his every move as though my life depended upon it.

  You’re still here. I pressed my hand to the glass.

  The memory of what Morven had said about enemies attacking the castle returned to me. They had been here ever since I was taken, I just knew it. He hadn’t given up on me. With all my heart, I wished I could break the glass and run down the hill into his embrace.

  “Amazing isn’t it?” the cool voice broke into my thoughts and shattered any hopes I had managed to conjure in the last few minutes. “They’ve been trying to rescue you ever since they realized you were gone. Only now, it’s too late.” Even as he said the words, I knew they were true. He had turned me into the creature all the Lathmorians feared. “You want to leave, don’t you?”

  I didn’t answer, still watching Patrick as he moved between the different groups of Lathmorians. Every now a
nd again his hand would point toward something near the castle. I could imagine the clear instructions he was giving.

  They were planning another attack.

  Morven removed his hands from around my waist, sliding them up my arms until they rested on my shoulders. My back straightened immediately, and I hated the way my body reacted to him.

  “Do you want to leave?” he repeated, whispering in my ear. “Answer me.”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “You want to go to him, but you’re stuck here.” He placed a kiss on my neck. Sickened by what was happening, I turned my head away and he clicked his tongue. “Look at me.”

  I did without question, the cool prickling forcing its way into the wound, kindling it with a frozen flame. The fog was taking over my mind—the window forgotten.

  This was what I had feared more than anything.

  I had been there when Zale had first shown his face to me, I had seen the blank expression in his eyes and while the memory was haunting, it had given me peace. For a long time I had known, had some sort of intuition this was going to happen. Ever since Morven had transformed me against my will, I had learned all about the siren and what she would be. In my mind, she was this horrific creature, and when I interrogated Verna I had my first glimpse of her.

  Yet, even in those moments of self-doubt, I had found peace in knowing if Morven changed me, I wouldn’t remember. He would have my body and my mind would be lost to the rest of the world.

  It was cowardly to hope for it, and still it had been my only protection over the past few months. The peace of knowing I wouldn’t be aware of what was going on around me was a difficult thing to describe. I had wanted it, desired it, and still I was refused this one small twisted blessing.

  My heart still thundering in my chest, I realized what Morven had meant when he said goodbye to me. He hadn’t meant I would forget, he simply meant I wouldn’t be in control anymore. He had me trapped, within my own body.

  His grey eyes roved over my face and when his expression softened, I revolted but didn’t move away.

  Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I twisted in his embrace until my lips nearly reached his chin. Sliding my fingers around his waist, I waited with baited breath until he dipped his head closer. His lips met mine, hard as stone, and I wanted to pull away, but my fingers were working to release the dagger, my dagger, hanging on his hip. It fell into my palm with singular familiarity.

 

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