The Wild and Lonely Sea (The Selkie Queen Book 1)

by Isobel Robertson

  “Are they here? Cormac and Red? I need to see them.”

  The voice cut through the fog in her mind - a woman, upset and loud. She sounded familiar. Lisbetta stood up, feeling that she should do something, but her legs didn't seem to be working very well. A woman pushed through the crowd and appeared in front of her. She looked wildly around, then fixed her gaze on Lisbetta.

  “It's you! I know you, from Glasgow. You escaped from my father.”

  What was going on? Lisbetta scoured her memory, then realised with a sobering jolt that this was the young woman who had called Sigurd father.

  “I'm Norah,” the woman said, and broke into tears.

  “My father beat me,” she sobbed. “I told him not to hurt you, so he hit me, and I ran away, and it's taken me all this time to get here because I didn't know where to go, but then I remembered Cormac and Red were always kind to me, so I came to find them.”

  Dumbfounded, Lisbetta awkwardly pulled Norah into a hug. Red appeared, shouldering his way through the room.

  “Where's the woman looking for me?” he demanded, then pulled back with a visible start when he saw Norah.

  “What are ye doing here, girl? Is yer father with ye?”

  Norah burst into tears again.

  “He beat her,” Lisbetta explained, still not sure that the words were coming out properly.

  Red shook his head, a disgusted look on his face.

  “A pig of a man,” he said. “Come on, girl. I'll ask my sisters to look after ye.”

  He took Norah's arm and led her into the crowd. Lisbetta slumped back into her seat and drank some more whiskey, letting the world swirl into loose colours around her.

  The wedding party moved back to Cormac’s house, Moira’s little cat hissing at guest after guest until at last it took refuge upstairs, quickly followed by Moira. Lisbetta stayed in the kitchen, drinking more beer, until exhaustion finally overcame her, and she slipped away from the party.

  And then, finally, she was alone. She sat on Cormac’s bed, dressed only in the white shift from under her wedding dress, brushing out her hair until it lay in smooth waves instead of tangled curls. Moira must have left the brush on the bed. A surprisingly kind touch. The house was silent; the guests must have all left by now. Had Cormac told them to leave?

  Lisbetta didn’t quite know what he expected. Did human women come to their husbands as virgins, or were they more experienced? She would just have to follow Cormac’s lead and hope that he was happy. Not that it mattered. This wedding was for convenience, not for life.

  A knock sounded on the door and she started, almost dropping the brush. He was here. She grabbed the whiskey glass for a final swig, then stepped barefoot to the door and lifted the latch. Cormac slipped inside, closing the door behind him and looking down at her.

  “Hello, Lisbetta,” he whispered.

  “Hello,” she whispered in return, feeling a little ridiculous. Why were they whispering? No one could hear them now. Moira would be long since asleep.

  He stood too close, overwhelmingly close. There must be some kind of magic in this room as well; she’d never lost control of her thoughts so much, or let her heartbeat spiral so quickly. His eyes were too blue, too deep. She couldn’t breathe, the fluttering in her chest so violent she could feel herself shaking. The whole room narrowed down to nothing beyond him.

  This time she raised her hand first, letting the backs of her fingers brush gently against Cormac’s cheek, smoothing the soft gold of his short beard. He gazed down at her a moment longer, setting the hair on end all the way down the back of her neck. Those seconds seemed to stretch on forever as Lisbetta strained towards him and held herself back.

  Then his lips were on hers, his hands tangled in her hair as he pulled her closer, her teeth hitting his as she tried to sink into him. Their bodies were wrapped up in each other, her senses losing track of where she ended and he began, her mind flooded with the feeling of him.

  She hit the bed with a gasp, digging her fingers into his shoulders so that he fell along with her. His hands were on her legs now, unbearably hot and yet not quite enough. Too much, she couldn’t breathe, but she couldn’t stop. She kissed him harder, shutting out all thoughts of Erlend and magic. Her worries could wait.

  He murmured her name in her ear, gripping her hair between his fingers, kissing her throat. What could she say? What could she do? He pulled her dress over her head and she had a moment of cool and calm before the fabric was gone and they were pressed closer together, her body naked against the rough weave of his shirt.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Blindly, she stroked his face, fighting the sea of feelings.

  “Cormac,” she began. “I don’t know-”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, and cut her off with a kiss. “You’re perfect.”

  She slipped her hands under his shirt, almost gasping as she touched his skin. He was as smooth and sleek as a seal, his chest burning hot under her fingers. She trailed her fingertips up his chest, skimming the wiry hair. He kissed her harder and pulled free for a second, pulling his shirt off, before pressing her back down into the bed under the weight of his body.

  She reached for his waistband but he pulled her fingers away, undoing the buttons himself as he kissed her throat and down across her breasts, his lips sweet and soft.

  “Be patient,” he whispered, lifting his head to smile down at her. She managed a weak smile in return, and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him hard. Then his clothes were gone as well and he lay naked on the bed alongside her, their arms and legs tangled together, their bodies sweat-smooth and aching.

  “I’m so lucky I found ye,” he murmured. “Ye’re perfect.”

  “You’ll regret me,” Lisbetta whispered, stroking the side of his face, the intimacy almost agonising. He was inside her body, and staring straight into her soul, as if he could read every thought she had ever had.

  “Ye’re worth all the pain ye could possibly cause,” he said, catching a harsh breath as he slid into her again.

  She kissed him hard, biting into his lip until he gasped with pain and held her even tighter. She tasted the salt of his sweat and the sharpness of blood as she inhaled his breath. Everything around her became blackness, the light and the magic all focused on this one man.

  They lay beside each other on the bed for a while, breathing hard. Lisbetta stared up at the ceiling, feeling her breathing gradually slow and the magic settle inside her. She hoped that no selkie had been watching; she had practically been leaking magic.

  “I meant it,” Cormac said after a while.

  She looked at him questioningly.

  “Ye’re worth the trouble.”

  “You have no idea what trouble I can cause.”

  He reached over and ruffled her hair, making her giggle. “I married a beautiful selkie of powerful magic and royal blood, and you think I wasn’t prepared for every possible kind of trouble?”

  She swallowed back a sudden lump in her throat.

  “You’re a good man, Cormac King,” she told him.

  “Why so sad?” he asked, stroking the soft skin at the corner of her eye. “Ye looked happy just a moment ago.”

  “I am happy.”

  Cormac sat up and looked down at her. He took a strand of her hair between his fingers, twisting it one way then the other. He focused on it, looking at his hands rather than her face.

  “I know that I’m no’ exactly what ye must have dreamed of all yer life,” he said softly. “I’m a human sea-captain with a history of piracy and hardly any money. I’ve a darker past than ye’ve seen yet, and I admit that I’ve deliberately kept things hidden from ye. I have a difficult sister and a run-down house, and ye could have done so much better if ye hadnae found yerself lost and alone in the worst part of Glasgow.”

  Lisbetta didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “Surely we can agree that my past is as dark and mysterious as yours. Don’t be so hard on
yourself. I know that you’re a good man.”

  “Ye keep saying that. How can ye be so sure?”

  He leaned over her closely now, staring straight into her eyes.

  “I just am,” Lisbetta told him, staring back. “I can’t explain. But I know.”

  He kissed her then, lowering his body back to touch hers, and she let herself go, lost in the feelings again. His kiss started gently, then hardened and became more demanding, until they were tangled up again in the blankets, but this time was soft and kind. Lisbetta found herself laughing at his jokes and his smile, stroking his face and kissing him back as hard as he kissed her.

  By the time Cormac fell asleep, warm and relaxed beside her, Lisbetta realised that this marriage was not entirely what she had expected. She let herself imagine a life here with Cormac, spending every night in his bed and every day by his side. But when she finally slept, she dreamed of the sea.

  *****

  Chapter 11

  The icy sea around her feet came as welcome relief after the stress and chaos of the wedding. Brisk sea air cleared the heavy dust out of Lisbetta’s head, and the taste of beer out of her mouth. Cormac still lay asleep in his bed - their bed - but she found herself restless and desperate for the open air.

  This early in the morning, the beach was empty, the fishermen already out at sea and their wives not yet selling fish in the harbour. Lisbetta soaked in the quiet, letting it soothe her as she walked along the soft sand of the shore.

  “You look well, Lisbetta. Apparently marriage agrees with you after all.”

  No surprise to hear his voice.

  Lisbetta glanced at the figure walking beside her in the surf.

  “Good morning, Erlend. What a surprise to see you here. Again.”

  “Again? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t play these ridiculous games with me, Erlend. I know that you’ve let others cross the boundaries. I could taste your magic all over them. Now let me go home.”

  Erlend splashed through the water at her side,his human body surprisingly graceful on land. He walked so close to her now that their hands were almost touching.

  “I’m surprised to hear that you want to return. Aren’t you settled here now, with your little human husband?”

  Was that jealousy in his voice? Did Erlend really want her, and not just her kingdom? She turned to look at him, almost stumbling as she came to a stop.

  “Do you really have to ask that, Erlend? I wanted an adventure, and I got one. But this isn’t where I belong, and you know it. It’s time for me to take my rightful place in the kingdom.”

  Erlend chuckled, reaching out one long finger to stroke along the side of her face. His cool, damp skin tingled with power.

  “You miss the magic, don’t you? Your human form is so limiting, so dull. You miss the exhilaration of power that can change the oceans and bring down kingdoms. Here, you’re just a weak little witch. You’re not even as strong as that human woman, are you?”

  Was he trying to make her resent Moira? As if she could ever feel jealous of someone who only had pitiful human power, no matter how strong.

  “Just do whatever it takes to get me home, Erlend. I’m tired of this.”

  “You already know what it takes,” Erlend said.

  Both his hands were on her face now, surprisingly gentle as he cradled her head and tilted it up towards him. She could feel the strength radiating out from him as he stood there, inches away from her.

  “You still want to marry me,” she whispered.

  “Of course. It’s the sensible thing for both of us. Our families will be one, and the kingdom will be stronger.”

  “I’m already married.”

  “A marriage to a human counts for nothing under our law. You already knew that, or you would never have agreed to it. You’re no more married than I am.”

  True. No selkie could marry a lesser species under the laws of the kingdom. Lisbetta had been well drilled in the laws as a child; she knew their every detail. She wouldn’t even have to dissolve her marriage to Cormac. It would simply not exist. It could be as if this entire disastrous adventure had never happened.

  “Just stop this nonsense and come home,” Erlend whispered, brushing his lips over hers. She sank towards him, relishing the taste of the sea and the aching closeness of his power. If she married Erlend, all that power would be hers again. She could go home. She could be queen.

  “I’ll marry you,” she told him, and he kissed her harder, his fingers buried in her hair. She pulled away.

  “But I won’t promise anything until I’m home in the kingdom,” she told him. “Open the boundaries and let me home, and then we can discuss our marriage.”

  He hesitated for a moment, looking closely at her face.

  “You still don’t trust me.”

  “Do you blame me?”

  He let go of her and took a step backwards into the sea.

  “I suppose not. But I don’t like it. I’ll find a way to take you home. Just wait here a little longer. And stay away from that human who’s calling himself your husband. He stinks of bad magic.”

  And then he vanished, with nothing but a surge of water to show that he had ever been there at all. Lisbetta touched the damp coldness on her cheek and thought suddenly of Cormac’s warm hands and open smile.

  She trudged onward along the beach, the wind whipping salty tears from her eyes.

  *****

  Chapter 12

  Lisbetta’s first evening as a married woman proved to be a difficult one. Moira, awkward and quiet, banished Lisbetta from the kitchen so that she could cook alone. Her cat sat there with her, not even looking at Lisbetta. Unsure what to do with herself, she perched uncomfortably on one of the formal chairs in the front parlour. She could hear Red and Cormac next door in the office, their voices rumbling too indistinctly to hear. She considered magically eavesdropping but decided against it, staring listlessly into the fire instead.

  When someone pounded on the door, she jumped sharply to her feet, startled out of thoughts of fire and water. But Cormac made it to the door first, his boots echoing sharply in the hallway.

  “Jamie!” he said. “What brings ye here?”

  Peeking out past the ajar parlour door, Lisbetta saw Cormac closing the door behind a skinny red-haired man, who stood dripping water on the wooden floor.

  “I was looking for my brother,” the man began, only to recoil with a violent gasp as Red lunged forwards from the study door and punched the younger man hard in the stomach and sent him crumbling to the ground.

  “Stupid little coward,” Red shouted, lunging forwards again even as Cormac pulled him back. Lisbetta shrank back, her hand over her mouth. Red never seemed calm at the best of times, but what could this young man possibly have done?

  “None of that in my house!” Moira shouted, marching along the hallway from the kitchen. “Rupert McCloud, you’ll behave yourself. And as for you - by God, it’s Jamie McCloud.”

  Lisbetta was still holding back a laugh over the knowledge that Red’s real name was Rupert - he’d used Red even at her wedding ceremony - when she put the rest of the information together. Red’s brother had arrived? And he’d greeted him like that? If humans treated their families like this, no wonder she didn't feel welcome.

  “Will someone tell me what’s going on?” she asked, stepping out from behind the door. “This is my house too, now, and I don’t like this.”

  She stood beside Moira, the two of them glaring at the three men. The younger one, Jamie, pulled himself to his feet and stood next to Cormac.

  “My name’s Jamie McCloud, ma’am. I’m here to look for my brother. My sisters said I could find him here.”

  “Ye’re no brother of mine,” Red growled, not even looking at the other man. “I cannae believe my sisters would let ye in through the door.”

  “They’ve forgiven me,” Jamie said softly. “As I hoped ye would have.”

  “How about we open a bottle of whis
ky and talk this over,” Cormac said, but Red had already shouldered him aside and pulled the front door open.

  “I’ll talk about this when hell freezes over,” he said over his shoulder, then slammed the door behind him. His footsteps echoed on the cobblestones outside. An awkward silence fell in the hallway.

  Moira broke it first.

  “Well, you’re welcome to stay for dinner here, Jamie. Red might have cooled off a wee bit by the time we finish. And I’m sure we have a lot of news to swap.”

  The young man’s face filled with relief and gratitude. “Dinner would be much appreciated. Thank ye, Moira.”