by P. Jameson
She smiled to herself. Couldn’t help it. She’d never felt like this before. So loved, so hopeful. So true herself.
All because she had taken a chance on a little town in the middle of nowhere and the rough man who’d saved her. He’d changed her life so much. She wanted to give back to Mansen as much as he’d given her.
She grinned down at the page she was working on and chewed on the end of her pen, thinking.
These days Doe kept a different sort of log. A journal of their life together. Important details that she wanted to remember always. Days they spent in town, nights spent in front of their fireplace, people they met, stories Mansen told her. Some day she hoped their children would look back and see how amazing their history was. And it was important to Mansen that they keep records to pass along since the only thing he had from his childhood was memories.
He stepped out of the cabin, his heavy boots thumping on the wood as he approached. She slammed the journal shut and grinned up at her mate.
Mate. It was his word for what they were, and she liked it. It implied more than a boyfriend or husband. It implied forever, which was exactly what they would have together.
“What do you write in there, elska?” he asked, eyeing the journal suspiciously as he lowered himself to the step beside her. “Can I see?”
She passed it over and watched as he opened it and read the first page. Flipping to the next and the next, until his body went stiff with surprise.
He looked over at her. “Elska,” he said darkly. “You write about our lovemaking?”
Doe blushed. “Not just that. I write about it all. I want to remember the parts of our life together. If I write it down, I’ll never forget.” Like she’d forgotten before. She didn’t think anything like that would happen again, but if it did, she knew this journal and Mansen could bring her out of it.
He seemed to understand. Closing the book, he leaned in to kiss her. And it was never a normal, casual kiss with Mansen. It was always soul-searing. The kind that made her want to crawl into his lap and stay there always.
He broke their kiss, pulling her into his lap as if he could read her mind. “I want you to meet someone. A friend.”
“Okay, sure. One of your clanspeople?”
“No. But he’s family, elska. One of us, even if he didn’t sail here with us all those years ago.”
Doe frowned. “Okay.”
“He needs help, and I think you’re the one who can help him.”
“Sure. I will help any way I can.”
“His female is missing. She didn’t come out of the lake last land-cycle, and no one can seem to find her.”
Doe thought about it.
“Does she want to be found?”
Mansen sighed. “I don’t know. But maybe you can tell us.”
She nodded. She would do anything for him, for his people… her people.
“I will try.”
“Good. Now I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
He smiled. It was never big—not on him, a fearsome warrior—but it was always enough to have her heart beating double time.
From out of his pocket, he pulled a dark velvet drawstring bag and passed it over to her.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
She tugged at the strong and carefully dumped the content onto her palm. Out tumbled a small silver ring with a single stone at the top. One that looked like a mood ring. Like the one Mansen wore.
“It’s labradorite from the lake. It’s the stone worn by the Mer, so we know one another on sight. But more than that, it represents self-discovery and the awakening of your truth, your… how would you say it…”
“Spirit?”
“Yes. Your spirit. Your abilities. Who you really are.”
Doe smiled down at the pretty ring. “I love it.”
“I want you to wear it as a promise.”
“A promise?”
Mansen nodded, squeezing her close. “Yeah, isn’t that what people do these days? If they are taken, they wear a ring.”
Doe laughed. “You’ve been listening to too much Beyonce. Besides, I have your mark rememeber?” She flashed her hand at him.
“But no one can see that.”
“Who needs to see it?”
“Every-fucking-one. I want them to know you are mine.”
Doe laughed again. “As if they couldn’t tell by the way you take that protective stance around me all the time. I think they get the point.”
“You think this is funny.”
“I do.”
“It won’t be funny when I gouge out any wandering eyes next time we’re in town.”
Doe tossed her head back, laughing full out at his serious expression. Did he know it was illegal to gouge out eyes these days.
He scowled. “I hate humor.”
“But you love me. And I love you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tight, and pressing a kiss to his rough cheek before pulling back to slip the ring onto her finger.
“I would love to wear your ring as a promise.”
His hands tightened on her waist.
“I will never take it off.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Doe turned serious. “No, thank you. For saving me. For loving me. For the things that haven’t yet come. For all of it.”
He nipped her jaw, bringing her in to whisper words against her lips.
“Thank you, elska. And thank those fucking silent gods for giving me exactly what I asked for.”
“What’s that?”
“A home to call my own… with a woman who is like a moose, not a deer.”
A joke. Her merman told a joke.
Doe laughed and as she did, Mansen dove in to kiss it from her lips. It was o-fish-al. They were a fairytail come true.
And they would live happily ever after.
Thank you so much for reading Waking the Deep! I hope you loved meeting the Mountain Mermaids. And this isn’t the end, so be sure to sign up for my release newsletter or find me on Facebook for updates!
Visit MountainMermaids.net for all the books in this series.
About the Author
P. Jameson likes to spend her time daydreaming, and then rearranging those dreams into heartstring-pulling stories of trial and triumph. Paranormal is her jam, so you’re sure to find said stories full of hot alpha males of the supernatural variety. She lives next door to the great Rocky Mountains with her husband and kids, who provide her with plenty of writing fodder.
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