Death Beyond the Waves
Book 4
Aleera Anaya Ceres
Copyright
Disclaimer
Pronunciation guide
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Royal Secrets Sneak Peek
Acknowledgments
About the author
Also by Aleera Anaya Ceres
Death Beyond the Waves Text
Copyright © Aleera Anaya Ceres 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means; electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.
Cover Design by: Imagine Ink Designs
Map Designs by: J.L. Wilson/Something Wicked Creations
Edits by: Merfire Ministrations
Disclaimer: This book is a mermaid reverse harem romance and has scenes unsuitable for viewers younger than 18.
To my fans, without whom, I wouldn’t have had such interesting—and very much welcomed—conversations regarding a mer’s anatomy.
Especially the merdick.
Thank you.
Pronunciation guide:
Thalassar: Tal-uh-sahr
Kappur: Kay-purr
Draconi: Dray-cone-e
Iol: Yo-l
Ventlaer: Vent-lair
Gvulis: Vool-liss
Brague: Bra-aag
Eramaea: Era-may-uh
Malabella: Mahl-ah-beh-yaw
Oriana: Or-ee-ah-nuh
Fraema: Fray-muh
Ytgar: Eet-gahrr
Valmundur: Val-mone-doorrr (heavy R roll)
Odalaea: O-dah-lay-uh
CHAPTER ONE
Maisie
“HELLO, COUSIN.”
Shock unhinged my jaw, making me numb to my surroundings. In this breathtaking moment, I knew nothing but the sight before me, or rather, the mermaid before me.
I had the sinuous curves of her features memorized for months now, all from the portraits in the castle and the recordings sequestered deep inside that secret cove. But the silver-gold sheen of a moving image hardly compared to the Princess of flesh and blood floating before me.
I’d only ever seen her in the richest gowns Thalassar had to offer, ostentatious jewelry dangling from her ears, neck, wrists, and hair. It had become a uniform of sorts, one I associated with the mer whose place I’d taken, who I had been pretending to be for months now.
Having her here, in front of me, right now, was different. She was different.
Instead of gowns in pink and flashy colors, Odele Malabella, Crown Princess of the mer kingdom of Thalassar, wore the black tunic of a laborer and a dark, hooded cloak to match. A simple leather belt hung from her hip, where a steel sword was sheathed.
A sword she’d used only a moment ago to run through the merman attacking me.
Her hair, similar in color and length to my own, was tied away from her round face, a face not unlike my own. Whatever image of her I had in my mind the whole time I’d been in Eramaea, this certainly was not it. Though pretty, she no longer looked the part of a royal. It was still there, in the elegant cock of her hip, and the arrogance flaring in eyes that were more brown than black.
I was so distracted with staring at her, almost certain she’d be a phantasmic illusion my distressed mind had conjured up, that I didn’t really register her words.
I shut my open mouth and swallowed past the tight lump in my throat. I looked down at the merman slumped in the silt, his body already starting to rise and twirl through the water. Plumes of blood still flowed in little smokey tendrils. His mouth hung open, and I could almost hear the sound of his last dying cry, echoing in the ripples of water around us.
“You killed him,” I whispered. Inexplicably, anger swelled to the roots of my chest. She’d killed him. Odele had killed this merman. My gaze shot up to hers, and I couldn’t hide the glaring rage.
Her own, delicate, perfectly arched eyebrows rose, eyes shining with amusement, as she pressed her fist into the curve of her hip and looked down at me, like she looked down on so many other mer that were lesser than her. “I just saved your life.”
Because I couldn’t stand to have her looking at me like I was less—though I probably was—I scrambled from my sitting position to float up and face her. I was taller by a mere few inches, but she still had this look on her face, like she could belittle me, chew me up and spit me out for fun. She probably could, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“I needed information from him,” I accused. “And you killed him before he could give it to me.”
She scoffed, a sound that was both elegant and condescending at once. “He was too far gone into his craze at the end of that pretty little speech to reveal anything.” Her eyes softened as she took me in. “Besides, he gave us the most important part of the story, cousin.”
Cousin.
That word rippled shock through my entire body. I’d been too numb to hear it that first time, to process what she’d said, and what the words implied. The heavy weight of them threatened to sink me into the darkness of an abyss I wouldn’t be able to get out of.
“I am not your cousin.” My hand tightened around the studded hilt of my black blade. It was a small comfort, to sense Elias here in the dark alley with me, when the reality was that I was alone. Alone with a Princess, a body, and heavy words that made no sense.
“Didn’t you hear what he said?” Odele began softly, yet fiercely. “Aunty Odessa had a female babe. One he took and gave to an old mer. That baby? Was you.”
The lump in my throat suddenly took the shape of steel, making it hard to swallow and speak. I had to breathe a couple of times before I could reply to her, and even when I did, my voice cracked. “It’s not true. That would make me—”
“A Princess,” she interrupted. “The rightful heir to the throne of Thalassar and Kappur. My cousin. Princess Odalaea Malabella Knoll.”
Odalaea.
The merman had called me that when he’d taken a swing at me. It was all so confusing, I could hardly wrap my head around it. Me? A Princess? It was preposterous. Ridiculous. Impossible.
“I am Maisie Fauna, a waitress from Lagoona,” I told her firmly. Saying the words aloud helped settle them over me. They pushed past the tightness, the overwhelming sensation inside me. These words were real. These words were the truth of my life. Not hers.
Odele’s lip twitched. “That may be who you thought you were, but it isn’t who you are. You are a Princess. My cousin.”
> I shook my head back and forth. It wasn’t true. I couldn’t quite possibly be royalty. Me. With my torn fin, my accent and… well, everything else. I was nobody, nothing special. Whatever she said to convince me otherwise didn’t matter. In my heart, I knew the truth. My truth.
Instead of saying this, and possibly continuing an argument that could last hours, I looked past her shoulder. “We really shouldn’t stay here,” I whispered.
Odele looked inclined to argue more, but agreed with a shake of her head. Then, she crouched so she was leveled with his still floating form, and unceremoniously started digging through the lapels of the dead merman’s jacket.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
She pulled out the pouch of gold coins and rubies I’d given to him, jangling them in the palm of her hand. “I see you found my lovely treasure cove.” She placed them inside the pocket of her own cloak and then went back to digging from his.
“Can’t you let the dead rest in peace?” I was sure there was a special place in the abyss reserved for these kind of offenses. Stealing from a dead mer was low.
Odele snorted, obviously not sharing in the sentiment. “These coins are mine, first of all. He would have taken them and left you dead in the street. I’m surprised you have compassion for him at all.” When she finished emptying his pockets, she got back up. “I plan on leaving this… mercenary…” Her voice rang with unbridled hatred. “...here to be found in the morning. I want it to look like a robbery.” She was still staring down at his form. Her hands were tightening into fists, looking as though she would erupt.
“Leave him here?” For a brief moment, I wondered if he had family. If he had anyone out there that was looking for him, would miss him.
“First kills are hard,” Odele whispered, eyes not straying from that limp, floating body. “But I will shed no tears and feel no guilt for this scum.” She looked up at me again, and despite what she’d said, a single bubble, so tiny I almost didn’t notice it, rose from the corner of her eye. “He killed my mother. Our mothers.”
I didn’t want to argue with her. Not when I knew she was right about him being a murderer. He had killed both Princess Odessa and Queen Odette.
“He deserved worse. Now come on. We’ve got to go before soldiers come poking around.”
Odele whirled away from me and didn’t wait as she swam to the mouth of the alley. I scrambled to follow, annoyed at her attitude. It was the very demeanor I’d hated while I watched those recordings of her. Like every mer was obligated to bow at her fins.
“Stick to the shadows,” she ordered.
I wanted to snipe back, but held my tongue and did as told. We both drew our hoods over our faces before venturing out in the water.
Odele, I realized quickly, had expert knowledge of the streets of Eramaea. She knew where the shadows rested, areas that were sparsely populated, and seemed to know just how to avoid any soldier in sight. It was a skill that rivaled the Black Blade’s, and I was sure it would have made Elias strangely proud to see Odele so at ease in the shadows, like a thief of the night.
We made it to the alley by the palace. When Odele pressed her hand to the wall to open that passageway, there was no fumbling, no feeling around crusted barnacles and algae. She knew exactly where it was.
The archway opened, and Odele swam in quickly, flicking her tail in precise, elegant movements. There was no limp on her. No sign of imperfection.
My heart gave a painful lurch at that as I followed, stone closing behind me.
Odele never stopped to pause once, she just reached into her cloak, and tossed out the bag of gold coins with perfect aim, and kept swimming up to that tunnel. I followed.
We made it all the way to my—her—room, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized no one was there to greet me.
“Ah, it feels good to be home,” Odele huffed as she untied the strings at the neck of her cloak and let it slide from her body.
All I could do was watch her, take in her every movement. She was graceful, beautiful. The curves of her body were generous, the purple of her hair and tail literally shined. Even in rags she was regal and powerful. I couldn’t help but compare myself to her, the way I’d been compared to her since I’d gotten here. Yes, we looked so alike it almost hurt, except she was more poised than I could ever hope to be.
It was a moment before I realized I was staring, and another moment for me to realize she was staring right back.
I startled, but she didn’t rustle an inch. Her eyebrows were raised in amusement that slowly cooled into a softer, warmer expression.
“I never knew my aunt,” she said. I tensed. “But I remember my mother speaking of her sometimes.” She was speaking to me in hushed tones; sharing a small piece of herself she’d perhaps never shared with anyone before. And I knew this secret wasn’t something to be taken lightly. It would now be a link between us, this piece of her past, and of her. “I always stare at the portraits of them, the ones in the halls.” A little laugh trickled from her throat. “I mostly liked to marvel at how alike they seemed, and sometimes, in those moments, I’d find myself wishing for a sister.” She gave a brief pause, and her stare seemed to bore into me. “But now I have a cousin, and that’s practically the same thing.”
Her following smile was so blinding, so painful, that I had to look away. Staring down at my fins seemed easiest. Kept me focused. “I told you,” I ground out tightly, if a little sadly. “I’m not your cousin.”
“You’d really float there, see the resemblance between us, and still deny it? Why, Odalaea?”
I ignored her question. “I told you to stop calling me that. My name is Maisie.”
The annoyance was clear in her voice. “Odalaea is your birthright. The Thalassarin and Kappurin thrones are your inheritance. That name you’re trying to carry is a lie, and I will not call you by it.”
My rage flared then, and I took a stroke towards her. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake sense into her, to scream. Instead, I calmly asked her, “Why are you so certain I am…” A Princess. “...Your cousin?”
“How are you so certain you’re not?” she countered. “That mercenary admitted as much. He took you when you were a baby and gave you away.”
My breathing grew shallower the more this conversation carried on. “He was just crazy.”
Odele rolled her pretty eyes. “You were so keen to believe him when he said he’d murdered royals and when you wanted to know who hired him to do it. Why is this so hard to believe?”
I lost my temper, anxiety pulsating through me, like a wave crashing, exploding into a violent pull of ferocity. “Because that would mean my entire life has been a lie!” I shouted, causing Odele to still. “It would mean that the mer I called ‘grandmother’ my entire life was nothing to me but someone who took me off of someone else’s hands. It would mean accepting all of this!” I gestured at the ceiling, at the richness of her room. “Accepting a royal life that I don’t want. It would mean that I really have a father—a father who has waged war against the kingdom I love—and a mother who—” I choked off, unable to say the words but needing to get them out. I had to. “Who was murdered.”
Oh gods.
The truth was out. The truth on why I couldn’t accept this as reality, why I would deny it until my last breath. I’d never wanted a crown. I’d just wanted change. I’d wanted a war to end, a Princess to be found, a murderer and culprit stopped.
I hadn’t asked for this. I hadn’t asked for the weight of a whole kingdom, for this sick, twisted family who lied and murdered one another.
“I don’t want it,” I told her viciously, my chest rising and falling with my anger. “I don’t want it to be real, because it would mean my life is a lie. That I don’t even know who I am.”
There was silence for a long stretch of time after that, filled only with the rasping labor of my breathing.
“Whether you want it to be real or not, Odalaea, it is. It is real. You are my cousin. You a
re a Princess. And you are heir to the throne.”
It’s not real. It can’t be.
To avoid further argument, I plopped myself down on the edge of the bed, letting the anemones reach for me. I sighed. “Now what? Where do we go from here?”
Obviously taking the hint, Odele let the subject drop. For now. I didn’t doubt she would keep bringing it up whenever she saw fit. It was a conversation I didn’t want to have. Not now, not ever. I didn’t even think I wanted to contemplate the weight of everything in my own solitude.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but that tavern made me feel dirty.” She shuddered. “It was likely crawling with unsavory diseases. I’m going to go bathe.”
I could use a nice long bath myself. “Yeah,” I agreed. “And when we’re done and changed we need to talk. Like about where you’ve been all this time.” And why she seemed so at ease with thinking I was her cousin. She was taking it in stride, and didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the situation. By me or killing that mer in the alley.
“Sure thing.” She waved my words off, and I wondered if she’d even heard them at all before she bounded into the bathing room, closing the door behind her.
With her gone, I was able to sort through a fraction of my muddled thoughts. The words echoed in my mind, a mockery if anything.
Princess Odalaea Malabella Knoll.
I repeated them over and over, trying to feel a stirring inside, a sense of rightness. Something that said, Yes. This is you. Take it. But no feeling came, because that name wasn’t mine.
It belonged to another, the baby who had been clutched in her mother’s arms, and then ripped from them. And it had stopped belonging to her the moment her mother’s murderer gave her away to a strange mer on the street.
My grandmother…
She’d been the mer to take me in. And she’d cared for me, loved me, like I was her own, because I was hers. I doubted she’d even known. I recalled so vividly then. All the times when I was younger, when I’d tried finding pieces of myself in her. We’d looked nothing alike, and I had not questioned it. Why would I, when she loved me so fiercely? When she had told me I looked like my fabled parents…
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