Disgraced warrior Elan, former First Lieutenant of undersea city Dragao Azul, stood on the beach surrounded by humans.

“Zara,” he told the serious, uniformed men and women. “I seek the woman known as Zara Robertson.”

The man in charge nodded to show he understood the words. But he continued speaking into his remote communication device about waiting for Border and Immigration Patrol.

It was not every day a merman surfaced on the human’s shore.

Elan’s free hand flexed for his trident.

As a show of faith, he had released the wicked metal weapon to these uniformed polícia, but the longer they detained him, the more sharply he felt the risks.

He stood only a few strides from the crashing waves. He’d shifted to stubby human feet for the walk across the volcanic black sand. Shocked humans had wrapped him in a towel and given him an orange, two-legged cloth to cover his maleness. He had managed to balance and step into the “swim shorts” while still holding his precious, seaweed-wrapped bundle close to his heart.

The authorities had arrived.

So had the cameras.

Distant lenses focused on his naked chest, the round glass magnifying his skin swirled with aquamarine tattoos. His honors and achievements as identifiable as a fingerprint. Even now, their notice burned as if they focused the rays of the sun.

The bundle in his arms moved.

Curse it.

“Zara,” he demanded, deepening his voice with authority. “Take me to her. Now.”

“Please wait,” said the man in charge calmly.

Elan’s commands sounded strange in his ears. Perhaps that’s why his request was easily ignored. Moving his tongue as he forced air through his vibrating vocal chords was so different from how he issued orders underwater.

The soul lights in these humans’ chests glowed with the same honorable intent as his city’s warriors. Their delay was not malicious. They were protecting their surface city from him, an intruder. That eased frustration.

But the exposure and danger continued to gnaw on his mind.

Funny how he had expected to walk out of the water and see Zara waiting on the beach. This was the third island he had visited and the first he had allowed himself to be seen by humans. Yet still, she had not appeared.

Where was she?

Hadn’t she longed to reunite? Join with him as desperately as he wished to join with her?

Discomfort slivered into his chest.

The bundle in his arms moved again. A soft whimper emerged from the seaweed.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, calmed his heart, and gently bounced his precious charge.

She would come.

Beyond the police barrier, a crowd grew. Something familiar flashed. A shiver of awareness slid up his spine. Was it…?

He craned his neck.

Weaving through the crowd, a curvy brunette stopped at the police barrier. She exchanged a few words with the officer and was allowed through.

Yes. He flushed with awareness.

“Zara!” He strode forward.

The polícia blocked him. “Stop there.”

He obeyed out of deep respect for authority, but every muscle tensed with the need to go to her.

She crossed the beach fearlessly.

Rich, dark brown hair fell in waves to her softly rounded shoulders. Flashing amber-brown eyes crackled with fire. Much of her delectable skin was covered in human garments — long shorts and a fiery red shirt — cupping her mouth-watering curves.

His cock hardened into attention.

Beneath her red shirt, in the center of her heart, shone a soul light bright enough to bake the ocean.

She was Zara. His fierce, beautiful bride. She came for him like a dream … and then she stopped too far out of his reach.

His gut clenched.

The man in charge stole her attention. “This individual claims he is your husband.”

She glared beyond the man, burning on Elan. “Undersea marriages aren’t legal on the surface in any country.”

“But you do have a relationship?”

“It ended a year ago.”

“Then he is an ex.”

“Is he? For my crimes, the mer struck my name from their records as if I never existed. So, you tell me.”

The man in charge regarded her uncertainly.

Her dark gaze never wavered. Zara’s fury was a force of nature; she swept away all obstacles in her path. Her beautiful righteousness made Elan ache.

Even though her anger now was directed at him.

“Keep your distance,” the man in charge finally said with a frown, and motioned for the officers in front of Elan to step aside. “You don’t know what he might do.”

“I know exactly what he’ll do.” She stalked forward, passing the other officers. Her total focus centered on Elan. “He’ll start explaining himself. Right now.”

His throat tightened.

She was right in front of him.

He craved to enfold her in his arms. Hold her. Caress her skin. Fill his senses with his luscious bride.

She crossed her arms, walling him off. “Well?”

He forced the words through the tightness. “I have come for you.”

“Oh? Is that what surfacing was supposed to accomplish? I see you scaring a lot of people who don’t know what to do with a member of the ‘secret’ race of mermen.”

For a thousand years, the mer race had lived, hidden, beneath the oceans. Then, less than a year ago, humans captured video of mermen and displayed it on a worldwide “announcement” platform called “Facebook.”

The ruling All-Council required the mer to act as if they’d remained secret. Elan’s appearance here, on the shore, was an unforgivable offense.

But he no longer cared about forgiveness. “I kept my promise.”

Her mouth made an “oh," but she didn’t look surprised. “I see. You’ve come for me as promised. Well, guess what? My faith in you expired the night your city’s thugs beached me like a dead whale.”

Her scornful gaze scoured the blackened surface of his heart. “Every hour, I regret—”

“Me, too. Regrets are a waste.”

“I took sacred vows. As a merman, as a warrior, and as a First Lieutenant. Yet, to you, I—”

“Yes, yes.” She waved away his vows like irritating little bugs. “I swallowed your vows to me hook, line, and sinker. Where did it get me? Beached.”

“That is why I am here. From this day forward, to you alone, I will keep my vows.”

“How nice. Go back.”

His heart thudded. “Go back?”

“We’re too different. You’re a heroic First Lieutenant and I’m an evil Jezebel who tried to lead you astray.”

“That is not—”

“That’s exactly what your society thinks of me.”

“Only the traditional mer who—”

“Don’t kid yourself. I don’t know how you talked your king into letting you come up here, but there’s no happily-ever-after for us. Let’s get the closure we both need and save ourselves a whole lot of heartbreak.”

Her anger bathed him in a cleansing fire.

In truth, she should run from him in fear. He had torn off his honors, broken his vows, smashed trust beneath boulders. He had become a monster.

But he had done it for this moment. He needed Zara. Not her forgiveness. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Just her.

His bride. His wife.

“Forget my people. Give me another chance,” he said tightly.

“It’s too late. Go back.”

“Zara—”

“I don’t want to be with you.” Her words cut like practice daggers slicing into his exposed chest. “You promised I could stay with you after our time was up. You promised no one would drag me out. You promised to protect me. And what happened?”

She glared, raw pain shimmering in her auburn-gold soul like shards of bone. “You failed.”

Zara was right.

He had promised to take care of her. He’d promised they could remain together, despite the sacred covenant requiring human-mer couples to part. He’d made her believe he was trustworthy — and that she could trust in their future together.

And on one bloody night almost a year ago, every one of his promises had been broken.

She’d been betrayed.

But he needed her. The entire mer race needed her. She was their only hope for survival.

“You stole my trust,” she continued. “You stole my innocence. And on top of that, you stole my son.”

“Our son.”

Pain slapped her face. She quickly schooled her features and made a flicking gesture for him to go. “This is our last conversation. Farewell.”

“It is our first,” he corrected. “Today is our new beginning.”

She turned and cast a skeptical dismissal over her shoulder. “We’re over. There’s not a single thing you can say to me that will change my mind.”

“Zara.”

Simply saying her name, threaded with command, made her pause.

“I will keep my promises.”

“I think I’ve covered how you didn’t.”

“From this day forward, I keep them only to you.”

She turned in irritation. “Stop saying that!”

“That is why, today, I came for you.”

“It’s already too—”

“And I brought our son.”

She froze.

He moved aside the woven seaweed covering. In his arms, cushioned by the soft, green tangles, stared their one-year-old baby.

Zara sucked in a breath. “Zain?”

Her voice broke.

So did Elan’s heart.

Round and chubby from a well-fed, gentle infancy, Zain stared at his mother for the first time with wide, dark eyes. Little chips of midnight blue flecked his irises and his skin. Zara’s same rich, dark brown hair curled from his head. His fat fingers curled into the seaweed.

Shock swept her so-certain anger clear and then agony crushed her. Her brilliant soul light flashed erratically, plunging to the pit of blackness.

Baby Zain’s little soul light also darkened. He made a mewling whimper and burrowed into Elan’s crooked elbow to escape her cutting sadness.

Elan patted Zain, bolstering his baby with strength. “Calm.”

Zara’s knees buckled.

Elan stepped forward and caught her with one arm around the waist. Her soft hip meshed his and her delicate hand rested on his shoulder. She sagged against him, finally where she belonged.

Zain’s feet fell loose from the seaweed. His chubby legs were identical to a human’s all the way down to the toes, which flared into tiny mer fins.

“Fins.” She swallowed hard. “He has fins. He’s…”

“Yes.” Elan angled Zain within easy reach. “He must learn how to shift.”

Her chest heaved. Her heartbeat fluttered. She was unstable. So unstable.

He stroked her hip gently with his thumb.

She covered her cheeks with her hands. Her dark eyes reddened with unshed tears. “He was happy? He was well taken care of? Everyone loved him?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good. I worried about that.” Each word punctuated a gasp as she tried not to let out the wrenching sobs contained just below the surface. She scrubbed her cheeks. “That’s a relief. Can I … um, touch?”

“Of course.”

With a trembling index finger, she stroked Zain’s leg from knee to ankle to toe-fins.

He buried his face in Elan’s chest and wiggled to escape.

Zara curled her finger away.

Although the baby was frightened by the newness of air, gravity, sunlight, and by his reunion to a mother he hadn’t known since the womb, their soul lights connected. They had never truly been severed. As soon as Zara calmed and Zain stopped reacting, their year-long rift would be healed.

Elan wanted that healing connection for himself.

Her soft hip pressed against his. Her full breasts pillowed his bicep and pearled nipples teased his chest. He wanted her skin in his mouth, sensitized by his tongue, while his cock plunged into her slick wetness. She belonged in his arms.

He needed her to let him in. Once more, let him into her life, to her body, to her soul. Hers was the only home that mattered. The only home he had left. The only home he ever wanted.

She was home, and he was so weary of searching the bones of his soul ached.

“I waited so long for you,” she whispered, echoing his thoughts. “When I surfaced, they said mermen didn’t exist. I was out of my mind. Drugged. Even I started to think I was crazy. Then, those videos were posted and your existence was revealed.”

“Now you are sober. We are a family. No one will separate us again.”

She tore her gaze from Zain and looked up at him. So unguarded. So vulnerable. “How…”

How had he brought Zain to her? Shame stabbed into him like a thousand urchin needles. He closed. “Never ask me.”

“…dare … you?”

He dropped silent.

She looked down at their son, agony once more darkening her chest. “I was so ready to end this. To find closure and walk away. How dare you bring me Zain? How dare you force me to feel?”

Perhaps coming to her today would become a regret. But right now, he would do it all again. A hundred times. And even her anger, fear, and sadness would not change his gladness at having her, once more, in his arms.

He rested his forehead against hers. “You have too much passion to walk away from us.”

“I’ve been numb for so long I don’t remember any other state.”

“You remember our passion.”

She licked her lips. “No. I’ve forgotten everything from our time.”

He nuzzled her, brushing his nose against hers. Her skin was so soft. Beneath the waves, she felt slippery as silk, and above the waves, she was downy soft and feminine.

With his familiar touch, her soul light flared to a bright, sweet heat. The air between them flooded with pulses of arousal. Her flush awoke his hunger.

They had exchanged a million kisses. Morning kisses, welcome kisses, hungry kisses. And then, none. In days of endless darkness, he had dreamed of her fiery taste.

Elan tilted his head to fit his lips to hers.

Her hand cupped his jaw to stop him.

He hesitated.

Her slender thumb stroked his cheek. Plump lips teased his rough chin. Her whisper emerged as a desperate, hungry plea. “You can’t. I’ve forgotten.”

“Remember. Now.”

“I…” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as though savoring him. “No. I just can’t.”

“Then I will remind you.” He buried his mouth in her kiss.

With the touch of Elan’s lips, Zara’s world collapsed.

His firm lips stamped hers like a promise and then softened, nibbled at her resistance. His tongue stroked her seam and teeth scored her plump lower lip. Sensation cascaded over her in a waterfall.

This was Elan. Elan was life. She needed him like she needed oxygen. She’d been numb for a year. Desperately, she needed him filling her body with sensation.

Zara opened her mouth to him.

His tongue delved in, tasting and exploring, curling around hers in a sensual dance, giving and taking and giving again. She almost cried. He tightened, his only sign of triumph to press her closer and make her more aware of his desire.

She couldn’t melt. She couldn’t fall back into this all-consuming passion. She wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same.

But…

His scent, ocean salt and masculinity, entranced her nose. Strong biceps secured her to his side and his thick cock pressed his arousal against her hip, sending little rivulets of hunger to her feminine center. It had been so long, and she had only ever, in her whole life, wanted him.

He kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, no yesterday, only now.

She sank into his delicious embrace, savoring his addictive flavor. Every thrust of her tongue only heated her with more desire, feeding her need as it stoked her hunger. Her heart pounded, breasts swelled, thighs squeezed together as the ache of reawakened pleasure brought her back to life.

The male who had been her husband knew her body, knew what she liked, and generously gave it to her. He always had. He always would.

Or would he?

Shock cut through her passion. She shuddered and pushed free.

Elan released her reluctantly. Dark shadows scored his passionate, aquamarine-threaded blue eyes. He breathed heavily.

So did she.

She pressed both hands against her racing heart. Elan made her too vulnerable. And the only way to keep herself safe was to cut him off now. Before once more he curled around her soul and awoke her old, shattered fantasies.

He started to reach for her. “Zara—”

She stopped him with everything she had. “This can’t happen again.”

His jaw flexed. Unspoken in his powerful stance was that it would happen again. But he dropped his hand.

Good.

In Elan’s arms, her son Zain watched them with wide, beautiful eyes. He’d spent the whole kiss nestled in the crook of Elan’s right arm.

Need to touch her baby surged again. Prove he was real, stroke his baby skin, and apologize for the twisting, shameful ache. She had failed to protect him and this year of lost time was her fault.

Zain turned away, intuiting her desperation.

Her heart broke. Again.

“Your sadness is too heavy.” Elan covered Zain’s trembling shoulders with seaweed. “Calm yourself.”

“You try,” she snapped, cinching one arm around her waist to keep her eviscerated feelings from spilling out.

Elan’s jaw tightened.

Yes. She was out of line. Zara didn’t want to yell. She wanted her baby, who she hadn’t seen in a year, to nestle in her arms. Not burrow away in fear.

She forced her apology through her teeth. “Sorry.”

Elan’s brows drew together sadly. “Do not be sorry. He needs your calm, not your apology.”

How could she be calm when emotions bulged out of her chest like a shaken soda can? Desire — fear — horror — need exploded in her heart. Seeing Zain and Elan tore down her very foundations, leaving her raw and pulsing heart flayed open.

Zain whimpered.

Hurting Zain was literally the last thing she wanted to do.

Zara hardened herself.

She wouldn’t frighten her son. She wouldn’t touch him until he no longer feared her. She wouldn’t traumatize him with her brokenness and need. She’d take her time and make their relationship right.

Elan was another story.

The crowds on the other side of the Azores beach barrier grew louder and the island polícia, behind her, discussed what to do with Elan and Zain. The head officer asked her sister Milly, who was standing just inside the barrier, about where they were staying.

“We have a house,” Milly answered. “But it’s not open to guests.”

“They may be placed in a detention facility,” the officer said in excellent, nearly accentless English. “No merman has ever requested asylum. This matter could go in front of the President.”

Zara couldn’t leave them in a detention facility. She had to recover her equilibrium to reconnect with her son, which meant that right now, she needed to keep Elan close. Even though he destroyed her equilibrium like a sand castle under a crashing wave.

She gripped onto control like fighting for a handful of sand. “You and Zain will stay with me until we figure this out. But once I’ve calmed down, you have to go.”

The shadows under his eyes darkened. “Only me?”

“Only you.”

Even though Zain was heart-breakingly terrified of her, she would never let her baby go. Never again. His fear would fade. She would win him over.

His father was another matter.

“We’ll work out a custody arrangement for Zain.”

Elan’s firm brow said he would fight. But he was still too honorable to argue.

That’s exactly why he’d have to go.

Not only for her peace of mind.

For his sanity.

Zara’s younger sister drove a growling metal “car” around the primordial volcanic island and up into the verdant hillsides.

Elan held Zain to his chest, sheltering him from passing cars, lowing cows, and twittering birds inside the familiar weave of seaweed. Milly had requested he leave it at the shore, but he’d refused. It was one thing to expose himself to the surface-dwellers. Elan would not compromise his son in that way.

This wasn’t what he’d expected.

Zara sat stiffly in the passenger’s seat. From the corners of her eyes, she stole glimpses of Zain. She was clearly determined not to frighten him. And not to touch Elan.

This wasn’t what he’d imagined.

He’d wanted her to race into his arms. He’d wanted her to hold him tightly, shine with the brightness of a hundred suns, smother him with fierce kisses, and sparkle with their rekindled dreams.

He’d wanted his wife.

Instead, she was shut up tight. Just like their first meeting. A hard shell without any cracks, cold on the outside, like the dead. She wanted him gone. And she didn’t know of his violent misdeeds. How would she react once she knew?

Zain whimpered.

Ah, Elan’s own soul light must be darkening. Plunging into darkness repelled a child as surely as a reprimand. Worse, because Zain couldn’t understand what he had done wrong to cause his parents’ dark feelings.

Elan controlled his emotions with iron focus. Zain relaxed.

Soon, Zara would also learn this control. She was a disciplined student and would pick it up immediately. And then, he would be forced out of her life.

Forever.

Zain moved and whimpered again.

Zara glanced at Elan sharply.

Elan rubbed Zain’s back through the seaweed, shushing and calming him. These dark thoughts hurt everyone. He needed to show Zara his grit. She would fall in love with him again, and then he would stay. They would be a family.

He swore it.

“Here’s our house.” Milly brought the car to a gentle rest behind a white-washed house nestled in a hillside. Pots of blue flowers bloomed next to a closed door. “We bought it with the Sea Opal gemstone you gave us — er, Zara — for her, uh, stay.”

Some warriors might be upset to hear their treasured bride offering had been given away, but Zara had unapologetically declared his jewel would fund Milly’s college education. This advanced “college” training was apparently critical for Milly’s future and Zara’s sacrifice was a sign of her protective spirit. She cared fiercely for her loves.

Which no longer included him.

He tightened on the pain before it could affect Zain. “It is a good house?”

“Pretty good,” Milly confirmed, turning off the engine. “Two bedrooms, close to school, and you can’t argue with the privacy.”

“Then the jewel was not used for your college education?”

“Oh, it was. You gave her a huge Sea Opal. We had extra.”

“You did not keep the extra for your memories?”

Milly hesitated and glanced at Zara.

Zara made a flubbing noise. “No. Why? I was glad it was gone.” She exited the car.

Had he misunderstood? Had Zara rejected the mer from the very beginning? Dark shadows curled around his heart and squeezed doubts like poison into his blood.

Zara opened the door and helped unbuckle Elan’s seatbelt. She refused to look at him.

Zain suddenly cried.

Her face whitened and her expression turned stricken. She took a step back and put the car door between them. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get so close.”

This was his error. His out-of-control emotions.

He forced his fears and pains into the mass of dark matter deep in his chest, took a calming breath, and stepped out of the car, Zain over his shoulder. “It was not you.”

She didn’t look as though she believed him.

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Whenever they touched, the dark fears plaguing him receded to silence. “He is sensitive. Our adjustment will take time.”

“I know. I’m just … I know.” Zara pulled back, closed the car door, crossed the dark gravel, and pushed open the thick, brown door. “This is the kitchen. Don’t touch. If you need something, ask.”

“Teach me.”

“No point. These appliances are finicky and old.”

“I desire to learn.”

Her jaw tightened. “You won’t be here long enough for it to matter.”

“Teach me for my future, then.”

“I…” She looked up at him for the briefest moment and then away. “The living room is through here.”

He took in the smooth rock floors and wood furniture. Unlike his undersea castle, this airy building was highly insecure. Open windows and multiple doors lowered defensibility. And the bedrooms were dangerously spread out. Her sister’s bedroom hid in a small, enclosed loft. On the ground floor, well away from the other rooms, was Zara’s bedroom.

She paused in front of her doorway. Inside, dusky furniture and quiet paint submerged the space in muted gray. “You may sleep here.”

“In your room.”

“I’ll be in Milly’s.”

He rested a palm on the doorframe and leaned over her. “Running away?”

Her nostrils flared and her pupils dilated.

As he’d learned on the beach, even though she refused him, her body remembered their love. If only her body remembered, he would start there. Slowly, he would rebuild her trust until all of her was filled with love.

Her hot gaze trailed down his arm, across his flexed pectorals, across his bare torso. “There’s no reason to stay.”

He dropped his voice, pushing and teasing her. “This is your room.”

Her lips parted. Her tongue slid across her lower lip as if she were remembering how he tasted.

His cock pulsed hard. He leaned closer, tempting her.

Suddenly, she blinked and leaned back. “I’m sorry?”

He wasn’t. Hunger was a look he needed to see in her eyes again. “We were talking about where you will sleep.”

“Yes. Upstairs. While you sleep here.” She frowned at the seaweed. “Is that Zain’s blanket?”

He had created it to shelter Zain from view, but their son was a big fan of curling his fingers in the woven threads. “He does enjoy holding the plant.”

“It’ll dry out if we don’t keep it damp.” She bit her lip. “Put it in the bathroom.”

Elan placed the seaweed — and a very determined-to-hold-onto-it Zain — in her chipped white tub. Zara added an inch of water to dampen the green fronds. Zain reached for the gushing water and gurgled adorably, splishing and splashing, as though he’d never been in shallows before. His baby fins scooped the liquid.

She softened. “He looks so natural. Are you sure he’s okay in the air?”

“Yes.” Elan eased behind her, and when she did not pull away, he slipped his fingers into her lax hand. “He is half human.”

“When will he be able to shift to feet?”

“He must practice.”

Elan slid an arm around her waist and cinched her against him.

His plan to start with her body began now. Would she allow him this much touch?

She stiffened and then melted, even settling her hand on his forearm.

Yes.

He nestled his chin in the fluffy, dark hair on the crown of her head. Her soft buttocks cheeks pillowed his hardening cock. The attractive dimples in her back were covered by her shirt, but he felt their dips. Her shoulder blades flattened against his chest.

He curled his fingers around her waist and breathed in her warmth.

She fit. Her soft pieces into his hard ones. His. She was the reason he had done everything. She was the only one who mattered.

He teased her sensitive neck with feathery kisses.

Her soul light flared and then darkened in warning.

He tried to pull himself back. Reel in his control, release her, and give her the distance her soul light said she wanted.

Instead of pushing him away, in a soft voice, she asked, “Did they hurt you for wanting to come here today?”

“No.” He hugged her for asking, for caring. For not — his greatest fear — forgetting him and moving on. “Not for today.”

Her fingers curled around his.

He closed his eyes. This. He’d wanted only this.

Her soul light dipped, and she pulled away. “But you took a year to come to the surface?”

This time, he did let her go. “I was delayed.”

“By what?”

“Many things.”

Her sharp eyes narrowed.

His body felt cold from her absence. How strange that he barely noticed the frigid temperatures at the bottom of the ocean, but after holding Zara, a gentle breeze lifted a shivery prickle.

Her question and hurt gaze edged with accusation.

She rejected him. She rejected the mer. And her rejection felt like ice needles in his veins.

Footsteps approached the bathroom doorway.

He moved swiftly in front of Zara. His hands flexed for his trident; he placed his palm on Zara’s chest to keep her safe.

“Hi. I found … uh …” Milly trailed off. Concern colored her face, and she looked between him and Zara. “Is something wrong?”

Zara placed a gentle hand on his arm. Her touch soothed his tension. “You found what?”

“This shirt.” Milly held up a billowing white covering of short sleeves. Blue and yellow marked the front. She pushed it at him. “If it fits, I can stop by the consignment shop for more.”

He made no move to take the shirt. Milly was not his bride. An honorable warrior touched no other female.

After a brief hesitation, Zara reached around Elan and took the shirt. “Thank you.”

Milly frowned. “Sure.”

He accepted the shirt from Zara and pulled it on. It squeezed his shoulders and flapped an inch above his waist, brushing the hem of his tight orange shorts.

Zara eyed the gap of skin between his articles of clothing. “A larger size.”

“Got it.” Milly punched a note into her phone. “And I’m heading to the market. Does Zain need formula?”

Zara turned to Elan for the answer.

“Formula?” Elan repeated.

“Baby formula,” Milly said. “You know, like milk.”

“What is milk?”

Milly’s mouth opened and closed. She looked at Zara with consternation.

Zara’s mouth set in a thin, hard line. Her tone was sharp, judgmental. “How did Zain ever survive?”

“Easily.” Ridges of irritation crawled up his back. Having her so close in front of him but so far out of reach crushed his patience. “He is well-fed and healthy as you see.”

She tsked. “Clearly that’s a miracle.”

“It is no miracle. Young fry are our treasures. Just because our ways are different does not make them wrong.”

“Yes.” She tapped his chest. “It does.”

Her accusation dug into his deepest, darkest fears. She couldn’t know, but undercutting Zain’s raising was one of the most painful ways she could hurt him.

“You would have seen our ways in a different light if you had stayed,” he said stiffly.

“Since your ‘ways’ involve pulling a newborn from his mother’s breast, that wasn’t an option for me. And it was wrong.”

“That is only one practice.”

Her soul light shuddered. “Do you dare to defend it?”

Behind them, Zain whimpered.

Zara started forward.

Zain lifted his arms to Elan and whimpered again, urgent.

Zara stopped. Pain flashed across her face.

Elan lifted Zain, soothing the anxious baby. “Shh. Calm.”

Zain quieted.

Zara stared at them both with white, pinched lips. Elan’s irritation only increased. He did not wish to antagonize Zara. She was still so unstable. It seemed as if she were barely holding onto control.

If only she would turn to him, touch him, and accept his touch in return. Her soul light would calm and she would regain her happiness. And he, too, would reach the absolution he craved.

“The, uh, point, if you don’t mind, is food,” Milly said awkwardly. “What can we feed Zain?”

Elan turned to the slender female. “He eats as I do.”

Milly looked at Zara.

Zara glared at Elan.

“I will eat as a human,” he said.

“So, do you mean the fish market? Or do you mean fast food?”

“What you eat, we will eat.”

“Fruit? Sausage? Frosted Flakes?”

He had no idea. “Yes.”

Milly looked less and less reassured.

Zara finally turned to Milly. “Get whatever you were planning for your weekly shopping trip. Just more.”

“Are you sure? He’s only a year.”

“If he can’t eat what you get, Elan will hunt.”

At least she still had that much faith in Elan’s abilities. Even if she doubted his ability to raise Zain, she knew he would provide for his son.

“I will hunt,” he confirmed.

“Or they’ll starve,” Zara muttered, undercutting her earlier faith. She raised her voice to catch Milly. “And diapers!”

“Got it!” Her voice floated from the kitchen. The back door opened and closed, and it was quiet in the house.

Zara frowned and turned away.

Doubts and irritations still prickled his chest. He followed after her. “Diapers? What are these?”

“Absorbent cloth. Like the shorts you’re wearing, only for babies.”

“He has never worn such things under the water.”

“We’re above water now.”

“But your son is mer.” He followed her across the living room.

She focused too much on judging mer traditions. Some traditions, like the ancient covenant, were bad. Others were good and deserved defense.

“Forcing on human clothing when he had not shifted could unnaturally constrain Zain and cause injury.”

She stopped and turned to face him. Her expression was non-negotiable. “Diapers will not ‘cause injury.’ He’s above the water now, Elan. You don’t know everything that you think you do.”

“I know what Zain needs.”

She cocked a brow and crossed her arms over her chest in a fighting stance. “And I don’t?”

“I have raised him longer.”

Sharpness slashed her expression like a knife. “Whose fault is that?”

Curse his words. But he had more knowledge of Zain’s upbringing. “Not all our traditions are bad, Zara. Withhold your judgment.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Same to you.”

“I am his father. I know this ‘diaper’ is unnecessary.”

A trickle of warm-body-temperature liquid soaked into Elan’s shirt, shorts, and trickled down his thigh to stain the smooth floor. Zain emptied his small bladder as though intent on proving Elan to be a fool.

Zara’s eyes remained narrowed but her lips suspiciously twitched. “You were saying?”

“He has released his liquid.” Elan couldn’t contain his surprise. Mer on land were always much older, well past the age when they gained control over their bodily functions. “Inside your house.”

“Babies often do. That’s what diapers are for.” But her tone was completely different from moments ago.

“You knew he would do this?”

“Of course I did.” Her lips quirked to the side as though she was suppressing a told-you-so smile. “Don’t doubt me, Elan. I might not have your experience yet, but I do have something you’ll never possess.”

A curl of dread rose in the pit of his belly. “That is?”

“Maternal instincts.”

“What are those?”

Her mouth opened and closed. Her anger drained and a familiar kindness softened her features.

He craved her kindness. But he did not trust its sudden appearance. “Why does my question make you sad?”

“No reason.” But she actually reached out, on her own, and cupped his cheek. “There’s a hose on the patio. Go outside and clean up.”

“You will join us?”

“In a moment.”

He hesitated. Something was wrong. He didn’t understand this new feeling.

She dropped her hand and urged him out. “I’m not going anywhere.” But her tone flickered. She turned away before he could press her on her unspoken words. For now.

While a dripping Elan carried their son out to the back patio to clean up and dry off, Zara got out the cleaning supplies and scrubbed the living room tile.

She suddenly realized she was humming. She paused.

What was this feeling?

Not irritation. Probably other people would be irritated, but she had missed the first year of Zain’s life and he feared her like any stranger. Taking this small action to care for him felt … how did it feel? Like a first step?

Then, maybe she felt happy. It had been so long since she’d felt anything, and now the feelings surged in like unsettling ghosts that turned out to be long-lost relatives. It was hard to identify them.

The look on Elan’s face had been priceless.

She smothered her smile and sat back on her heels.

Out the living room doorway, she could see his chiseled, water-dappled, aquamarine-swirled torso. He leaned against the back wall, made of waist-high piled stones, and stared through junipers at the startling blue sea. His brow firmed into a pensive frown.

His massive aquamarine-swirled cock was lax, but she knew its pleasures.

She jerked her gaze from his manhood to his face.

He’d had the same expression when she’d first met him.

Like a hero, he’d swept in and saved her and Milly from their worst terror. And, instead of falling for her more attractive sister, Elan had focused his heart-stealing attention on plain, chunky Zara. His pure soul had felt so familiar; he’d eroded her natural caution. Combined with cocky rightness, unimpeachable justice, and gentle tenderness-mixed-with-heat, his plea to become his bride had tangled around her heart and tugged.

Just a few minutes ago, his unguarded question had tugged her heart again.

What are maternal instincts?

That question displayed both the brokenness of the mer culture and the reason Elan had so easily captured her heart the first time. Zara had wanted to save and heal his race — and him.

And now he’d come to her, a year later, but still just as broken. She needed to—

Wait.

She slapped the soapy rag into the bucket.

Forget it.

She was not falling for him again. Forget every feminine body part cried out as if only an hour had passed since they were last together. Zara would not allow herself to be betrayed. Not by Elan and not by her own heart.

She stowed the cleaning supplies, pulled out a blue and white sailor suit onesie for Zain, and prepared a tray of refreshments for her guests.

Temporary guests.

Outside, Zain lay on his belly on shaded terracotta tile beneath the sheltering limbs of a young juniper. He stretched his rounded, dimpled limbs and reached for bright yellow wildflower petals, his legs kicking the air as though he intended to swim across the tile.

Elan stood a few feet away at the wall. In nude profile, his sculpted body — powerful shoulders, narrow torso, grippable buttocks, and rippling limbs — were hard and dreamy and still, even after a year, all hers.

No, not hers!

She turned away from the mouth-watering sight and set her wooden tray on the homey glass table. She poured creamy, peach-colored passion fruit juice into a plastic sippy cup, debated watering it down, and then handed the whole calorie-rich blue cup to Zain.

Zain pushed away from her in refusal.

She sucked in a breath. Give him time. She repeated that as she poured a tall glass for Elan, then spread out a tub of soft cheese, crunchy crackers, and slices of fresh island bananas.

He thanked her absently as he studied the ocean. She recognized his stance. Intense concentration meant he was assessing dangers.

Zara set her drink untouched on the small table and sat in one of the white-washed wooden patio chair. “You’re expecting a fight.”

He flicked to her. “I prepare for any possibility.”

A weasely answer. And unlike him. She studied him for the truth.

The dark shadows under his eyes lengthened, and he angled away.

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her scarred knees. “I see. Does that ‘possibility’ include lying to my face?”

“I do not lie to you, Zara.”

“Then what are some of the possibilities? You must have approval to come here because I know you’d never disobey your king.”

He evaded her, silent, and resumed his intent stare.

Wait.

“You disobeyed your king?” Zara stood. “You didn’t convince him? Or the elders? Anybody?”

His teeth clicked together, and he squinted at her from under his brows.

“What happened to your great lectures about the ‘wisdom’ of your elders? Or your belief that even if one abuses you, you should still respect them?”

He turned back to the ocean.

“Did you really rebel?” Zara confronted the male who had not only enforced his city’s laws; he had lived them in his bones. At his prolonged silence, she licked her lips. “Is it my fault?”

“No.”

Okay, an answer. She put a hand on her hip. “Are you sure? You were supposed to convince your elders and your king to let me stay.”

“That was not possible.”

“Why not?”

“There was no opportunity for such a dialogue.”

“What does that mean?”

He gaze flickered. “They changed and then I changed. Words … were not possible.”

Another weasely answer. Unusual for Elan, who was so honest. But then again, she’d never dreamed he’d break his laws. “So you are expecting trouble. Not just from ‘someone’. From your own people.”

“The elders will not allow their prize warriors to defect. Not in such a public way. And certainly not with their city’s young fry.”

“The human world knows about mermen now.”

“Our elders deny the change.”

Zara felt … how? Standing upright made her feel as though there was too much distance between her and the terracotta. Even the sunlight weighed on her shoulders. What was this feeling?

She sat abruptly in the wooden chair. “When are you expecting them?”

“I do not know. Soon.”

She watched Zain wiggle under the shade.

The truth hurt. That feeling she identified.

Not only did Elan come to her in defiance of his laws, but he expected their family to be ripped apart. He prepared for it.

A scream echoed in her memories. Zain sobbing, Elan streaming blood, the tight bonds rendering her powerless—

“Why did you come here?” she demanded.

He turned to her fully. “Why?”

“Yes!”

“To be with you. And reunite you with your son.”

“Why?”

“Can we not…” Raw emotion fought for a place on his tortured face. “Can we not be a family?”

She tightened her grip on herself. Her tongue almost snapped like glass. “I asked myself that for a year.”

“And then?” He sniped at her with uncharacteristic bitterness. “You became accustomed to the air world, and no longer cared for your husband and child?”

“How dare you?” she hissed.

He set his jaw.

“That’s a fable you tell yourself to justify throwing away the mothers you entrapped and fooled.”

“I do not—”

“Your people do. And I’m dumped, alone, all over again. So.” She rose to her feet and paced the small terracotta plot. Grasses shook harshly in the breeze as dark-bottomed clouds tumbled across the formerly spotless blue sky. “There’s no substance in this dream.”

He crossed his arms. “You once wished to live together.”

“You once promised to protect me.”

His eyes flashed, and he tightened his grip on his elbows.

She didn’t want to hurt him. That wasn’t her desire.

“I think we’re both aware of reality,” she said. “Your entire race is trying to force us apart.”

“Not all—”

“Don’t bring wishful thinking into this.” She held up her hand. “This is cruel. Dangling Zain in front of me knowing he’s going to be ripped away.”

“No.” Elan crossed the distance between them and tugged her into his arms. Again. “This will not happen.”

“They’ll come. Your city’s thugs. There’s nothing I can do.”

“There is much you can do.” He stroked her hair, cupped her cheek. Sincerity burned bright in his eyes. “You have a power, Zara. You can fight back.”

“It’s the same as before.”

“It is different,” he insisted. “We are safe, Zara. Warriors will not come onto the land.”

…they wouldn’t come onto the land?

Of course they wouldn’t! Coming onto land was a violation of their ancient covenant the same way exposing their existence was a violation. Warriors only visited land once — to collect their sacred brides.

As long as she kept Zain on the land, he was safe. She was safe. They were all safe.

“There is more.” Elan stroked her cheek. “Do you remember my former kinsman, Kadir, speaking of the ancient mermaid queens? They died out after the great catastrophe, which is why mermen must approach humans to continue our race. We have discovered brides who remain underwater, as you wished to, can develop an unusual power.”

Zara ignored him.

In her dreams, she’d run away with Zain a thousand times. Stolen into Dragao Azul, grabbed Zain, and run. Elan had done the difficult part. Now it was up to her to finish the escape.

He needed an emergency passport. Once they flew home to California, they could move to a landlocked state, change names and identities, and disappear.

This was her opportunity.

She reached into her pocket to check the time and — oh. No cell phone. Her brain really had traveled back to the past. Her cell contract had elapsed while she’d been undersea, and after returning, she’d been too numb to do more than exist.

She’d borrow Milly’s. Call the American Embassy, find out if Zain could skip Portuguese Border and Immigration because he was her son, book flights.

As long as he remained near the beach — and everywhere on the Azores was less than a mile from a long stretch of volcanic sand — he’d be at risk.

Elan gripped her shoulders. “Zara? Are you listening? You drank the elixir and transformed.”

“Barely.” Today was a weekday so the embassies should have later hours. “I could breathe and see and speak underwater.”

“You can also make fins.”

She snapped back to him. “That never happened.”

“You must try.” He stroked her cheek with his wide, warm thumb. “Fins are the first step in claiming your power. We will go into the ocean to practice.”

That was crazy talk. She shook her head.

“Believe.” Elan’s gaze burned into her. “Your destiny is not merely to be a sacred bride. To protect our family, you must embrace your true power. You must become a mermaid queen.”

Mermaid queen.

It sounded like another fairy tale. The kind Milly made up when they were kids. Growing up without TV, they’d spent hours imagining what other kids were doing, and created stories to pretend they didn’t miss any entertainment.

“You have the power to shatter the sharpest dagger and melt the longest trident,” he promised. “No warrior will stand against you.”

And also, it sounded like more wishful thinking. Which was the most dangerous type of lie.

She shoved Elan back, tearing free of his arms. “You’re lying.”

“I do not lie. I have seen this power with my own eyes.”

“You saw ordinary women get superpowers? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

“Make your fins and embrace your passions. Power will emerge in a shining light.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He dropped silent.

So, then, no. He hadn’t really seen ordinary women get supernatural powers in a snap.

She was not special. She did not get magical powers just from wishing it. That did not happen in the real world. Thinking otherwise was a waste of everyone’s time. And believing in wishes risked more than her heart. Elan’s city was full of deadly warriors. Underestimating them could cost lives.

Milly’s car engine growled around the front of the house.

He started toward her again. “Zara, believe—”

“No.” She put both hands over her ears to keep his slippery-sweet wishes out.

“Come into the ocean. You will feel the truth in the water.”

“Absolutely no.”

His aquamarine-flecked gaze burned. “I will convince you.”

“You’re dreaming. Stay here.” Zara stormed away, into the living room.

Milly draped the bags over the dining table chairs. “Whew! Here are the clothes. I think I saw everything out back. I mean, everyone.”

“Sorry. We had an accident right after you left.” Zara unpacked the box of diapers and inspected the shirts for Elan.

Milly hooked a mammoth bunch of sweet island bananas in the usual spot beside the cupboards and put away her cereal. Then, she folded the bag. So, she’d only bought bananas?

Zara paused. “Is that dinner?”

“Crazy story.” Milly filled their hot water kettle and clicked it to boil. “I was standing in the middle of the grocery store aisle, feeling completely lost, and then I ran into Vaw Vaw! She’s cooking for us tonight.”

Vaw Vaw was the kindly Portuguese grandmother they’d never had. She’d lived next door to their grandfather’s old mansion and had taken care of the girls like her own. Aside from their aunt, Vaw Vaw was the next closest thing to family they had.

“Milly…” Zara bit her lip. The last thing she wanted to do was spend a family dinner together with Elan. “You couldn’t refuse?”

“Well, actually, I tried.” Her smile faded. The kettle hadn’t started, even though the light had turned on, and she smacked it with her open palm until it made a second, more decisive, click and began to boil. “Grateful as I am for her cooking, I knew you probably wanted to spend the first night together alone.”

Zara stopped. “Alone?”

Milly looked up at the sharp tone. “You don’t?”

“Why would I?”

“Your missing husband and baby emerge from the sea and you don’t want to spend time with them as a family?”

Oh, she had it all wrong. “Zain’s terrified of me and I barely recognize Elan.”

“I thought you said he was your soul mate.”

“That was a long time ago.” Zara gripped the clothing bag tight enough to crumple it. “I’ve grown up since then and I have no interest in him whatsoever.”

“Zara?” Elan stopped in the doorway, interrupting them. “Ah.”

His hard physique was deliciously outlined against the now sunny skies. Including the massive, thick cock she’d admired.

In the past, she used to wrap her mouth around him and suck. Relish his escalating cries as her perfect warrior lost control and became savage with desire. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he would pull her mouth to his and crush her in his kiss. She would clasp him, squeeze his waist between her legs, and rub her liquid desire all over him.

Zara squeezed her thighs together. She had no interest.

Milly gasped at his full frontal nudity and turned her back. “Excuse me. Sorry. I’ll grab my book bag from the car.” She darted out the back door.

Right. That conversation about her sister’s misunderstanding was not over.

Elan tilted his head. True curiosity challenged his noble features.

Zara brought him the clothing bag. “Put these on.”

“Is your sister alright?”

“Yes.” At his continued concern, she crossed her arms. “Nudity in front of other humans is disrespectful.”

His expression changed to regret. He was always so considerate. Like a knight. She’d fallen fast and hard despite her best intentions.

And that was not happening again.

He took the clothes bag. “I will take more care in future.”

“Good.”

“Please convey a proper apology.”

“Sure.” They had talked about a million things under the water but a few basics had slipped through the cracks. Zara grabbed the sailor suit she’d set out and pushed past him. “I’ll put on Zain’s diaper.”

The baby was on his belly kicking air. Worry twinged in her guts.

She knelt at his side with the thin diaper.

Zain looked up and studied her with his wide, dark eyes.

“Hello.” Her voice cracked.

His gaze on her remained steady, dark brown flecked with aquamarine. Their irises had combined colors into Zain’s, just like their names were echoed in his. Combining names had been Elan’s idea. Zain was a mer name, but it also sounded like “Zane,” and could sound normal to humans, too.

She cleared her throat. “Don’t be alarmed.”

He wiggled uncertainly.

She sucked in a deep breath. The problem was her. Her soul light. Meaning, her nerves, her baggage, her issues. She was tied in knots of shame and sadness and memories, and she had to move past it for both their sakes.

“I’ll be fast,” she promised, more to herself than to him.

Before she could psych herself out, she grabbed his waist, sheltered his head, and flipped him onto his back.

He was smaller and slighter than other one-year-old babies, and he wiggled and whimpered his protests on the warm tile.

His legs felt smooth yet rubbery, skin thick from scales. He had ordinary knees, the usual male baby equipment, an innie belly button, a chubby belly, and skinny arms. Skin above his rubbery toe-foot-ankle scales was ordinary softness like any human baby.

Her baby.

Zara’s heart thumped hard.

Zain’s expression turned frowny.

She took a deep breath and let it out. Calm.

Zain calmed as well. It worked! He continued to stare at her.

A lump formed in her throat. She was touching her son. Her son.

He began to frown again, his little forehead wrinkling, and she quickly strapped on the diaper as he arched his back and rolled over onto his front again.

Whew. He was diapered.

He made the swimming gestures, scooping air uselessly, unbothered by the diaper.

Zara pulled the blue-and-white sailor onesie over his big head, fluffing up his dark brown hair. He mewled. She pushed through, tugged his arms through the holes, and snapped it under the diaper butt.

Diapered and dressed. Ready for Vaw Vaw. Zara let out a huge sigh.

On her other side, Elan pulled on a white T-shirt with another faded dive shop logo and long navy-colored athletic shorts. “You did that with skill.”

She snorted. “Shocking, right?”

“No. You are his mother, so some things come naturally.”

Her heart squeezed. She wanted it to be true. “That’s the maternal instinct I was talking about.”

“Of course.”

Elan studied her as intently as Zain had. Seeing through her. Probably sensing her “soul light” or whatever mermen saw in people. Waiting, wanting things from her she couldn’t give.

Just like before.

“We are meant to be a family,” he said quietly.

His intoxicating nearness was dangerous, but his words — those were always the most dangerous of all.

She stood. “We’ll talk after dinner.”

“You cannot avoid this.”

Yes, she could.

Zara angled away from him. “My ex-neighbor’s cooking.”

He looked like he had much more to say but he wisely fell silent and gathered up Zain. The car ride across the small island was short. Vaw Vaw’s two-story gray house, made from island stone, had cheery bright red shutters and doors. Under the purple flowering vine-trailed veranda, older adults chatted, sharing drinks and smokes, at the casual blue-washed tables and wooden chairs. A small retaining wall garden overflowed with tomato bushes and fragrant herbs.

A passel of children raced across the green lawn toward Milly’s car as they got out. They clustered around Milly, asking for the treats — loaves of American-style banana bread — she carried under one arm.

Elan positioned himself in front of Zara, a powerful shield, and asked quietly over his shoulder. “Is this safe?”

“Yes,” she said.

“This is not your family?”

Ah. “These ones are safe.”

Elan cautiously moved forward, his powerful form filling the consignment store T-shirt and shorts. Zain straightened, alert, in Elan’s arms.

Elan had always been protective, but his determination to face danger first was more pronounced. In a foreign environment, above the surface, he prioritized her in a way no man ever had.

She’d liked it before. She liked it now. Too much.

Shaking off her feelings, Zara deliberately walked in front of Elan and greeted the extended uncles, aunts, brothers, and nephews.

He tensed behind her.

Oh, because she was clasping hands, or “touching,” people other than “her husband.”

She tried to speak to him out of the side of her mouth. “It’s okay to touch other people on the surface.”

He replied through clenched teeth. “I know.”

But he made no move to return their tentative greetings.

Feeling his tension, Vaw Vaw’s relatives fell silent.

She understood.

They were normally very friendly, but had never seen a merman before, and didn’t want to get the first all-important greeting wrong. How should she explain that she was the one causing his tension?

“Relax,” she ordered him.

His aquamarine eyes fell into deeper stress lines. In his culture, a mer could only touch his own bride. Any male that accidentally touched another’s bride, even to save her life, risked losing limbs or exile. Watching Zara touch these men clearly twisted his feelings, and he refused to touch any females himself. He would relax this taboo the same time Zara happily dove into the ocean, which was currently looking to be never.

Vaw Vaw burst from inside the house, diminutive arms wide and white smile wider. “Zara! And your husband and baby.”

Her accent was only lightly tinged; her English was excellent from working her teen and early adult years at the American base on Terceira. Despite her age, her dark hair was only threaded with gray and thick old-lady glasses rested on her stub nose, held on by a pink beaded lanyard.

Behind Zara, Elan held his breath and braced.

Vaw Vaw smooshed Zara against Elan, hugging them at the same time. For being such a small woman, she packed a powerful hug. “Welcome! Welcome to my home, my new friends.”

Elan trembled. The urge to explode was barely held back by his will.

Zara worked one hand free and rubbed Elan’s bicep. They were safe. He was fine. It was okay.

By degrees, the trembles stopped. He finally did as she asked and relaxed.

A wave of protectiveness swept across her heart. She felt broken, but Elan was the one who couldn’t handle a gentle grandmother’s hug. He had been broken from long ago. His culture had broken him.

He needed to be fixed.

Vaw Vaw pulled back. Wrinkles swallowed her face and arthritis bent her knuckles, but her grip was still firm and her kindness unparalleled. She craned her neck over Zara to see Zain. “This is your baby!”

Elan held Zain tighter.

“Yes.” Zara tugged on Elan’s elbow to lower Zain to Vaw Vaw’s level. “Here he is.”

Elan obeyed reluctantly. Vaw Vaw moved in close. Elan stiffened to granite.

Zara rested one hand on his bicep and stroked his shoulders. “You can hold him if you want.”

Elan made a noise of protest.

Zara made a calming, shushing noise. Against his will, it seemed, Elan relaxed.

“Of course I want.” Vaw Vaw cooed and poked Zain with a little finger. “Look at you, beautiful young man. What a beautiful young man. What a baby.”

Zain began to smile.

Elan’s jaw dropped.

But it wasn’t so miraculous. Not really. Vaw Vaw had saved Zara as a tiny child. They weren’t related, but Vaw Vaw had always welcomed Zara and Milly into her home, and after they’d returned as adults, she’d stopped by their house often with a tureen of stew or freshly baked bread. Of course, with the instincts of children and animals, Zain could tell Vaw Vaw was safe.

Vaw Vaw laughed to see his smile and held out her arms to lift him. “May I? Excuse me, Papa, may I hold your beautiful young man?”

Elan hesitated.

Zara rested her hand more firmly around his bicep. “It really is okay.”

He looked at her.

“I trust her more than I trust myself.”

His eyes narrowed. “Have more faith.”

Yes, she knew that she had to control her soul light.

Zara nudged him impatiently. “Go ahead.”

With her endorsement, Elan released Zain. Vaw Vaw swung the baby to her chest, and he made a pleased gurgling noise.

Elan tensed to take back their son at an instant’s notice. But there was no distress.

As a grandmother of thirty and growing, Vaw Vaw was a master at bouncing Zain, touching his fins, complimenting his handsomeness, and speaking in the calm sing-song of unconditional love. His smile only grew wider and happier the longer he was in her arms.

She carried baby Zain into the house with promises to get him tasty food and introduce him to the others, who would love him exactly as he was.

It made Zara’s own heart swell with memories.

Elan sought her hand as though needing an anchor. She took his hand, reassuring him, and squeezed.

His shoulders relaxed. He was a large tattooed warrior, a force of nature, a First Lieutenant in charge of defending a whole undersea city. Attuned to any risk, careful of any danger. Releasing his son to this strange woman must have been the hardest thing he had done in a very long time. And when Zara told him it was safe, he respected her judgment. And her.

She couldn’t let her heart swell painfully. She couldn’t let Elan into her world. She couldn’t feel this gratitude for his constant support buffering her like a rising tide, reminding her that he was always her first, strongest, and most faithful supporter. She absolutely must not get used to the feeling of her husband under her hungry hands again. No.

Elan had shown her not every man was hurtful, untrustworthy. He had shown her the meaning of honor.

Losing Zain had been like losing her dream.

Losing Elan had been like losing the other half of herself.

With Vaw Vaw’s successful greeting, the other relatives stepped forward to greet Elan. He returned their greetings stiffly, but doing his best to perform according to the laws of her land.

And Zara felt the dangerous cracking of her shields as she leaned against Elan, giving him the silent comfort he seemed to need in order to function.

This could only end in heartbreak.

Who was this peaceful, domestic Zara? Elan didn’t recognize his fiery wife.

She peeled and cut green-threaded, seeded fruit called kiwis at a counter while the elder named Vaw Vaw carried baby Zain between the women working in her small, cluttered kitchen. Since the beach, Zara had never fully taken her eyes off Zain. In this homey kitchen, for the first time, she focused on her simple peeling task with a small smile on her bright, calm face.

Elan did not share that peace. He couldn’t take his eyes off either. He felt his attention tearing in half.

“Here, wine.” Vaw Vaw handed him a short glass of red liquid. “From my cousin’s vineyard.”

He accepted the odd-smelling concoction with thanks. After being hugged tightly by the small woman for an extended period, brushing her cool fingertips to take a glass did not seem so large a violation. But he still kept himself back from the other females. He was well aware no other males came into this room. He remained in the doorway.

Anyway, he must acclimate to this human practice. Once Zara saw his determination to respect her ways, then perhaps she would extend the same respect to his.

Zain, resting on Vaw Vaw’s wide hip, reached for the passing wine.

“Oh, you little one! It is goat’s milk for you. Do you like goat’s milk? Here is some from my sister’s goats.”

Zara’s smile increased as Vaw Vaw tipped the thick cream into Zain’s mouth. She held the cup steady so he could control how much, if any, he tried. He mostly played with the glass without tasting the liquid.

Vaw Vaw noticed Zara’s soft smile.

“Oh, Mama. Would you like to feed your baby?” She set the glass on the crowded counter and lifted Zain to hand him to Zara.

Her smile fled. She dropped the peeler on the cutting board and fumbled to accept him, her soul light fluctuating in a panic. Zain immediately started crying in Zara’s sticky hands.

The other females cooking in the kitchen laughed.

“So sorry, my darlings, for surprising you.” Vaw Vaw took him back with a laugh and then saw Zara’s stricken face.

She rested a hand on Zara’s shoulder and murmured in her ear so even Elan, standing just on Zara’s other side, could barely hear. “Don’t worry. It is common after a long absence. He is young and will quickly change.”

She sniffed. “I just want to hold him.”

“You will.”

Zara shook her head.

“Yes. He cries because you are his most important person. He worries about getting everything right.”

Zara looked up. “Really?”

Vaw Vaw nodded. “It is certain.”

From the safety of Vaw Vaw’s firm arms, baby Zain regarded his mother with wide, dark eyes.

Her own chest light glowed with reassurance. Zara reached out one finger to stroke his cheek.

He caught her finger in his small fist and clenched it as though making a promise.

Her throat worked. Tears sprang to her eyes.

“See?” Vaw Vaw rubbed Zara’s shoulders reassuringly. “It is already beginning.”

Her expression filled with faith.

Where Elan had sought to comfort her, this Vaw Vaw succeeded. This gentle elder could reach Zara’s heart effortlessly, and now he understood why she held such a position of respect. He was truly grateful.

Vaw Vaw wove between the aunts, checked on pots and dishes, and then carried Zain out to a toy-strewn, children-filled room.

Zara rubbed her cheek with her wrist as though to dry a tear that hadn’t fallen. She picked up the knife to finish slicing kiwis.

Elan positioned himself in the outer doorway to keep a watch on both of the precious ones in his life.

“Can we play with him?” the young children begged Vaw Vaw. “Can we play with the baby merman?”

“Yes, my babies. Sit here and I will set him in your lap.”

And, again to Elan’s shock, Zain willingly went into the arms of a slender girl while the others looked curiously on and begged for a turn. She watched over them expertly, pointing out observations to enchant smiles and excite wiggles.

“Can we walk him?” a little boy asked, demonstrating that he wanted to hold Zain’s hands and help him walk like a human.

“No, my babies. He will injure his fins. He must make human feet first. Mermen can shift between fins and feet when they want to. Did you know?”

“We learned that in school,” the little boy said archly.

A strange emotion moved in Elan’s chest.

Only a year ago, the mer were unknown to the human world except for the few islands that passed the traditions of the mer to their sacred brides. Now, modern humans learned about the mer in school. How could his elders hope to pretend their existence remained secret?

But Dragao Azul had little choice. The All-Council enforced the ancient covenant.

Someday, the All-Council representatives would realize their folly.

The children urged Zain to change his fins into feet. They wiggled their bare toes. “See? Make feet!”

Zain simply stared at them with his wide, curious eyes.

Vaw Vaw laughed heartily. “That is the way, my babies. Show him how much fun it is to have human feet and he will be encouraged to try his hardest.”

Under Vaw Vaw’s expert eye, the children frolicked around Zain, treating him like their youngest siblings, offering him toys and making him welcome. Elan had not seen such effortless direction of young fry in all his years beneath the ocean. Fewer than one young fry was born every year in Dragao Azul, so there was little opportunity. Perhaps someday, when the mer race recovered their numbers, specialized young fry-rearing elders would be needed once more.

Zara brought in the plate of the cut kiwis. The children treated her as a familiar adult and she had no unusual emotions around them. Only near Zain did her soul light brighten and darken.

And near Elan.

She paused in the doorway, offering him a slice of the green fruit. “It sure is different from your home, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Louder.”

He took the slice and licked the sweet-tart juice that slipped down his hand. “I have never seen so many young fry.”

“Not in any of the undersea cities?”

“I have only been to a few. And in those cities, like in Dragao Azul, only one warrior was honored to travel to the surface and take a sacred bride.”

It was different in the past. Only a few generations ago, their sacred islands had teemed with willing brides. Secret traditions passed from mother to daughter. Brides from ten, twenty sacred islands had gathered each year to join with Dragao Azul warriors.

Then, the islands had emptied. The brides had modernized. Across the sea, constrained by the ancient covenant, the city populations declined. Zara was perhaps one of the last sacred brides to join with a warrior in the old way. And that was only because she had been at the sacred island by mistake.

Meanwhile, from Dragao Azul itself, a new voice had risen. Kadir called out to the mer to throw off their old ways, embrace the new, and reveal themselves to the world at large. Break the covenant. Woo and marry modern women according to modern ways.

Kadir’s voice had been compelling — and doomed.

No. Elan would not think of it. Not at this happy house during this peaceful time.

Zara frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

He twitched. “Yes.”

She didn’t seem convinced.

He refocused on their conversation. It was safer. “Underwater it is different, but seeing the mer flourish is my deepest wish.”

Her expression turned inward. She sipped her wine. “You were so excited for Zain.”

He pivoted and drew her hip against his belly. “I am excited for any young fry with you.”

With her hands full of the tray and wine, she allowed the contact, but did not melt into him as before. She glanced at him out of the sides of her eyes. “You still want a big family?”

“Yes.” And he wanted this warmth. Her bright light. He wanted steadiness and calm for her. “You will be a grandmother like Vaw Vaw someday.”

Her brows rose. Her light burned brighter, proving she was touched, and she gazed on Vaw Vaw surrounded by children. “I could never be her kind of hero.”

He tugged her closer. “You will be your own kind.”

She rested her weight against him, giving in. Only for a moment. He could tell. “We may never know.”

But he did know. Family was what he’d held in his mind, his vision, the sole image keeping him alive and striving when he’d been forced to do the things that turned his stomach and made him question all he’d been taught about goodness, rightness, and honor.

Zara must become such a hero. She must allow the protective love she hid inside to flow out and inspire all. She must share her love freely and shine her beautiful light.

And then perhaps her goodness would atone for all he had done.

“Come to the water with me,” he murmured pushing those nightmares from his mind and concentrating on the softness of her skin at her delicate neck. “I want to swim with you again.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I don’t have my bathing suit.”

“We swim nude as mer.”

“I’m not mer.”

“Zara.”

She took a deep breath and pulled away. “Dinner is almost ready.”

Their talk would come after. He released her slowly. Every time he held her, the craving to keep holding her grew. He was losing his discipline.

Dinner was a volcanic stew of wine-braised beef, searing potatoes, and vegetables in scorching sauces. Peasant food, the relatives called their dishes with self-deprecating charm, but once they were sufficiently cooled, he found the honest flavors to be filling. Zara slathered fluffy bread with melting butter and showed him how to sop up the last tasty bites.

The dinner ended and, after promising Vaw Vaw to return the following day, they departed for home. Zain fell asleep on Elan’s shoulder. Once at the white house, Milly parked and walked in with them to the living room. She seemed to have things she wanted to say, but after one look at Zara’s face, Milly departed for her bedroom with the words left unsaid.

Zara’s nervous gaze flicked over Elan’s body. Her awareness sensitized him. Desire swirled in her soul light. The mood crackled with anticipation. He tasted her hunger on the back of his tongue. They were alone, and she wanted him.

He wanted her.

It was right.

Elan followed Zara toward her bedroom. “Now, we talk.”

She stopped in the doorway. “We’ll wake Zain.”

He evaluated his options.

Zain needed his rest.

She was softened from her time with her family. If he waited until the morning, she might close up again tightly and not let him in.

Elan placed Zain in the damp seaweed in the bathroom tub. Zain snuggled into the familiar weave and cuddled it with a sigh. Good. He would rest well in this familiar ocean texture. Elan straightened.

Zara bit her lip. “This is dangerous.”

Defensiveness rose in him. “Zain cannot easily escape.”

“Exactly. He could turn on the water.”

“This water is not harmful to mer.”

“No, but he could…” She trailed off as a new thought seemed to occur to her. She snorted and rubbed her forehead. “I must be tired. I was thinking something dumb.”

Her soul light plunged to dark.

Curse his defensiveness. Elan moved to her and stroked her arms, striving to bring back her happy confidence. “No concern for our child is dumb.”

“I was afraid he might drown.”

“In the water?”

“Yes. I told you I’m tired.” She turned away, pulling free. “We should talk another time.”

No. That was the last thing that should happen.

He eased in front of her, rested his hand on the door head, and blocked her exit. “The longer you delay, the longer I will remain here, in your house, where you do not wish to have me.”

She seemed conflicted.

He leaned forward. Now was the time to push. Push her to acknowledge how much she did still want him, how much they belonged together, and how she needed to keep him close by forever.

“We talk now.”

“Fine,” Zara told the domineering male who demanded they talk now. “Let me by. I have to tell my sister I’ll be to bed late.”

He released the doorframe.

She squeezed past. His hard body brushed hers like a promise. She shivered.

Not because of Elan’s hard, irresistible body. Oh, no. The temperature had dropped with the pressure, and the air seemed to hold its breath with anticipation for rain.

But she didn’t feel cold. She felt hot. On fire.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame. Even in a faded dive shop T-shirt and athletic shorts, he was the picture of male virility. “I will wait.”

Those words, and the rough promise that filled them, heated every feminine thread in her body.

She could not fall into their old life as though nothing had changed. Everything had changed. He had to admit it.

So did she.

Zara detoured to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and drank half. The chilling liquid did not quench her body’s sudden fire.

She climbed up the stairs. Her heart thumped fast in her chest.

In the bathroom, when Elan had looked at her with a seductive glow and murmured the longer she delayed the longer he would be here, she’d almost said, “That’s okay.”

And it wasn’t okay. It very much wasn’t okay, and the fact that she even considered it to be okay for an instant was the proof she needed to have this conversation another time.

He’d only emerged from the ocean a few hours ago. He looked gorgeous, but also like he’d been through hell. She’d just met her son. The world was fragile, and she was shaky.

Milly would talk her out of this.

Her sister’s room was a confetti of fluffy purple pillows, a peach and lavender bed set, textured hangings on the walls, and teen posters of hot guys encouraging her to read because smart chicks were hot. Even though she was twenty and finishing her junior year at college, she’d surrounded herself with the comforts of a simpler, younger time.

She’d exchanged her contact lenses for serious, purple-rimmed glasses and reviewed homework on the bed, her back against the pillows and unicorn notebooks balanced on her drawn-up knees.

Milly glanced up with a suppressed yawn and removed her earbuds. “Bedtime?”

“Almost.” Zara shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Elan wants to talk.”

She smiled with a knowing look. “I’m sleeping with my music in tonight, so don’t mind me.”

After her kidnapping, Milly had suffered severe nightmares. Only classical music or Zara in the bed next to her had let sleep return to normal again.

“It won’t be long,” Zara insisted. “I have nothing to talk to him about.”

“Okay, take your time.”

Her sister was misunderstanding again.

“I’m not starting anything with him,” Zara said, making a cutting off gesture with the flat of her right hand. “That’s not what’s happening here. We’re not one happy family. Don’t get any ideas.”

Milly lifted one eyebrow as though to say, Ideas? But she hunched over her homework and, in a tone that was far too casual, mentioned, “You brought him here.”

“He had nowhere else to go.”

“You never bring anyone here.”

“And there’s Zain.” Zara shook her head. “Elan’s not staying.”

Milly chewed on her pen eraser. “Why not?”

“Because!” Zara gripped the water glass so hard it sloshed. “How could I even consider it?”

“He’s the father of your child?”

“Yes, and he practically destroyed me! I lost everything. I barely remembered who I was.”

Milly finally looked up. “I know.”

“So—”

“That’s why, when he first appeared, I was ready to dump you at the airport and storm the beach with a shotgun.”

Zara blinked. “A shotgun?”

“You were hurt badly, and I was going to hold him responsible with both barrels. But, Zara, the moment you saw him on that TV, you came alive.”

She shook her head.

Milly insisted. “You’re more alive right now, arguing with me, than you have been for the last year.”

Well, there hadn’t been anything worth arguing before. Zara hadn’t cared. Nothing had shaken her out of the numbness…

Which meant Milly was right.

She crossed her arms, the glass resting against her elbow. “And that’s his fault?”

Milly shrugged a shoulder. “You tell me.”

She didn’t feel alive right now. She felt scared and fragile and she wanted everything to go away. But not. She was too conscious of Elan waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and her baby sleeping in a bathtub of seaweed, and all the days that had separated them. It should be an uncrossable abyss. If she tried to cross it and failed, she wouldn’t survive.

“You crawled into hell to save me.” Milly pointed her erasable purple pen at Zara. “I’ll never forget that. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. But you brought him here, into your home, when in the past you wouldn’t even watch a friend’s cat overnight.”

“Elan didn’t have anywhere else to—”

“He could have gone with Border and Immigration. It’s not jail. You could have visited. We even could have still taken them over to Vaw Vaw’s for dinner. You don’t bring anyone into your home. I think it means something.”

She couldn’t come up with a viable argument. “But he didn’t surface for a year.”

“Why?”

She was afraid to know the answer.

“Looks like you have something to talk to him about after all.”

Zara changed the subject. “Let me stay with you tonight.”

“Of course.” Milly returned to her notebooks and put in one earbud. “But I’m listening to my music and I won’t wait up for you.”

Zara left Milly’s bedroom with an unsettled feeling. She could have refused Elan. Within their first moments of meeting on the beach, he had slipped under her defenses. And she hadn’t even realized it.

That wouldn’t happen tonight.

She thumped down the stairs.

His hard, lithe form came into view, still leaned against the doorframe. His clear aquamarine eyes pulled her in with hypnotic force. His hands, so big and comforting, rested on his thickly muscled thighs. She knew exactly how they felt between her legs as his hard cock thrust into her.

Not only had she come alive today, she had stepped from being a numb, practically comatose, sexless creature into a fiery skin that screamed for sensation. For sex. Elan’s hot gaze awoke her hunger. She wanted to feel more than his gaze on her body.

She slicked in readiness.

But that could not be allowed.

Zara strode past, deliberately avoiding him, and plopped on the living room couch. The glass of water sloshed. She rested it on one knee. “Okay. Talk. But it won’t change anything.”

Elan uncoiled from the doorframe with powerful virility. He strode across the smooth living room tile, seeming to suck the oxygen from the room. That was why she couldn’t get her breath. He stopped right in front of her.

Before she realized what he was doing, he pulled the glass out of her hand and set it on the table behind her. Then, he bent over, resting one powerful palm on either side of her thighs on the couch, bringing his kissable lips within inches of her face.

Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest and attach itself to him, loving him even harder than before.

“We belong together,” he growled. “You and I.”

She shook her head.

His gaze smoldered. “Do not fight what you know is right.”

“What I know is right,” she pressed a hand to his immovable chest, “is that we’ve been separated for a year and you want to pick up like nothing happened. With no plan in place to stop another separation.”

“There is a plan. You will transform into an unstoppable mermaid queen.”

“That’s not a plan. That’s a fantasy.”

“It is truth. You have great power within you. Queens can defeat an entire army. I saw this with my own eyes.”

The mythical mermaid queens who had died out a thousand years ago. Now, only males were born to the mer, and the women who birthed them were quickly returned — or exiled — back to the surface.

Kadir had wanted to change that. Expose the mer existence, invite modern women to become brides, and ask them to stay forever — recreating the lost queens.

Part way through Zara’s stay, Kadir had been arrested and imprisoned for blasphemy.

It was a sign she should have heeded.

“Kadir never said queens had magic powers,” she pointed out. “I think I would have remembered that part.”

“He thought the ancient legends exaggerated the queen’s powers. Channeling a Life Tree’s energy to create protective spheres around loved ones, or push enemies, or heal fatal wounds sounded fantastical. Now we know they are true accounts.”

If even mermen who worshiped magical “Life Trees” found something to stretch credulity, Zara could be forgiven for doubting its truth. It was too fantastical.

And convenient.

“If I have super powers, how come I don’t know?” she demanded.

“You will know after making your fins. Come with me into the ocean. We will grow your power together.” His gaze glimmered.

Her own desire rose to match. She fought against it. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

“Swim with Zain and I, and you will—”

“No.” She pushed him back with full force. “The only way to keep Zain safe is to stay away from the water. Far, far away.”

“You can protect him. You are the only one who will. Believe.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Have faith.”

The kiss sizzled in her belly. Delicious, heroic, and unwelcome. She clamped down on the spreading desire, the need aching to wrap her arms around him and kiss him back. Believe, like he wanted. Close her eyes to reality and fall into the once beautiful fantasy of their life.

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t believe in magic, and I can’t believe in you.”

His eyes lost their glimmer and seemed to sink into dark shadow. His cheeks hollowed in the dim light. He looked defeated. And tired. So tired.

Nothing like her Elan.

She shook her head. “What happened to you?”

He looked away. “Nothing.”

“How can I have faith in you if you won’t be honest?” She tapped her flat palm against his chest. “You keep trying to pretend nothing has changed. But I’ve changed. You’ve changed a lot.”

“I have not changed.”

“Those dark shadows under your eyes weren’t there a year ago.”

He flinched.

Zara leaned back and crossed her arms. “You’ve told me nothing, Elan, except to ‘believe.’ How can I trust in you if you’ve given me nothing to trust?”

His brows drew together as though peering into the inky blackness of his past.

Her heart ached to believe in him.

She fisted her hands and shook her head. “I can’t.”

The hollows shadowing his commanding eyes deepened. He looked malnourished, exhausted, and unwell. Tormenting him with this argument was cruel.

But so were the hopes he tried to raise in her heart.

Elan had made her so many promises. Even though no other merman had kept his bride, Elan swore he would be the first. They would remain under the water together, forever. One happy mer family.

And then the night Zain was born, she’d barely finished giving birth — an amazing, life-altering experience with Elan — before warriors had burst into the protective chamber.

They tore away her newborn baby suckling at her breast. Elan had tried to fight them off, but he’d been overwhelmed. They had beaten him horribly.

Zara had fought the warriors herself. They weren’t supposed to lay a hand on a “bride,” but no one said she couldn’t lay a hand on them. Eventually they’d lassoed their seaweed ropes around her, hog-tied her, and dragged her out, leaving her on an abandoned beach in the dark, moonlit night.

She’d nearly bled to death.

And now Elan wanted her to believe she had superpowers that could have prevented his beating. Their separation. He also wanted to pretend nothing had changed. That his year apart had been a walk in the underwater park.

Right.

“You want me to believe you laid around Dragao Azul for a year because you couldn’t be bothered to swim to the surface,” she pointed out.

Worry lines deepened. He thought that was better? Then he was trying to protect her from a terrible truth.

She cut to the chase. “You want to convince me I have superpowers? Fine. I’ll believe after you do one thing.”

He looked at her. His brows lifted with hope. “What?”

Outside, the black sky growled with thunder.

She leaned back again in her seat and crossed her leg over her knee. “Exactly what did you do during the year you denied me my son?”

Zara demanded the impossible.

She already hated Elan for failing to keep her safe. How much more would she hate him once she knew what he had done?

“Because I know you weren’t asking permission to surface,” she continued. “Or you weren’t very convincing.”

He stared at her stiff crossed-arms glare. Fiery, uncompromising. She waited.

Elan closed his eyes.

Outside the open windows, a spatter of liquid hissed on the ground as the first cold drops of rain hit the earth.

Zara had the strongest spirit of any warrior he had ever known. Compromise was not in her. If their roles had been reversed, and she had been ordered to betray everyone or die, she would have chosen death.

“Just start at the beginning.”

He forced his voice. “A thousand years ago when we created the ancient covenant? Or more recently when Kadir roused us to return to the pre-disaster harmony of mer and human?”

“More recently,” Zara ordered. “When you convinced me Kadir was right and inspired us to dream of a future together.”

He remembered she had convinced him. Zara’s hopeful wish had surprised and filled him with new dreams. To love her even more deeply. To long for the impossible. To fight for their future together, no matter the cost. Even now, it drove him to speak the horrors that could not be uttered.

“Did you ever even try to come to the surface?” Zara finally asked.

He opened his eyes. “Yes.”

“But?”

“We were captured and returned to the city.”

“We?”

“Zain.” His throat closed. He swallowed and continued. “And I.”

She frowned, trying to hear words he wasn’t saying in his broken voice, in his expression. Deep, unending sadness. “You tried to sneak out with Zain?”

“Yes.”

“Right after I was forced to the surface?”

“No.”

Her bitter expression returned. “You took your time, huh?”

“Raising a newborn is tiring.”

“You don’t say.”

“Especially because…”

“Because?”

“I had to recover from my injuries.”

She frowned, and her confusion cleared. The bitter judgment faded. New sympathy radiated from her soul light.

It calmed.

“They were pretty bad?” she asked.

He flattened his lips to avoid telling her.

Caring for Zain when his own bruised bones and deeply slashed muscles made it difficult to cross his own castle had taxed him to the limit. But he could not be declared unfit to raise Zain. He’d strained alone to feed his son, to sleep him against Elan’s unbroken skin, to cleanse and sing to and shower love so Zain would still feel the fierceness of Zara’s in her absence.

And he’d tried to lull the elders of Dragao Azul into believing he had given up his blasphemous desire to remain with Zara.

“She does not remember you,” elder Varo, his old friend and also a former First Lieutenant, had promised. “Brides gratefully return to the air world. They would die longing for the surface. Now, she has found another husband. Brides easily forget. Only the mer remember.”

He had pretended to agree. Pretended that his fight to keep Zara had been an incident of “newborn illness,” a temporary sickness that caused mermen to have blasphemous thoughts about breaking the covenant to remain with their brides.

Before going to the surface to woo a bride, “newborn illness” had been a silly feeling Elan would never suffer. After Zara, Elan could not call it a sickness. It was a natural and correct reaction to losing the woman with whom you had created a new life.

With Kadir’s forbidden call still whispering through their shaken city, Elan had been under extra watch. And when he’d tried to make his escape, he was caught.

“I made the attempt as soon as I could. But perhaps I would have been more successful if I had waited longer. We did not even get beyond the limits of our territory. That was the end.”

“The end? You tried one time,” she said flatly. “One time.”

He gritted his teeth at her judgment. “They pressed me into service. Perhaps you remember my second-in-command, Soren?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He was the lead thug forcing me to the surface.”

“And he was supposed to take the First Lieutenant position.”

“I heard your elders promising he could have it as soon as he disposed of me.”

Elan didn’t like hearing her talk about the Dragao Azul elders or Soren with such disrespect. They were only following orders. Following orders was the most honorable act of any warrior.

But Zara refused to follow laws if she believed they were wrong. Another person’s authority meant nothing if she thought they misused it.

Soren, most of all, followed orders with dedication. His large size intimidated even his own elders, so he had to work three times harder to overcome the stigma. Elan was one of the first to recognize Soren’s discipline, and as a consequence, Soren had pledged total loyalty to Elan for life.

Until that night.

“He did not accept the First Lieutenant position,” Elan said, conveying the most shocking reversal in a generation. “After Soren returned from taking you to the surface, he refused the honor and left the city in exile.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Good.”

“This doesn’t surprise you?”

She shrugged.

Leaving one’s home city was a death sentence. Worse, it was a betrayal to the warriors left behind. To the city’s king. To the Life Tree. Soren’s action had rocked the city to its core.

“Why would an unimpeachably honorable warrior like Soren suddenly throw off his values and embrace an anathema disgrace?”

“If he was so unimpeachable, he wouldn’t have abandoned an injured woman in the dark.”

The image stung.

Elan would do anything, anything, to reverse time. Protect Zara that night. Keep her safe with him and Zain.

But that time was past. “I thought, perhaps, you cursed Soren.”

“Only with the truth.” She crossed her arms tighter. “He shouldn’t feel so satisfied. He’d purchased his promotion with my blood. And I was literally bleeding everywhere so he couldn’t dare deny it.”

No wonder Soren had lost his way and fled the city in horror. Injuring a bride was far worse than breaking the ancient covenant. Soren’s own soul must have darkened when he heard Zara’s judgment.

“He had his orders,” Elan pointed out.

“That doesn’t make what I said less true.” She cocked her head, tilting her chin up at him in challenge. “He knew it, too. Sounds like he did something.”

Indeed.

“The shock of two highly positioned, ‘honorable’ warriors choosing exile shattered confidence in the city leadership. No one would take the First Lieutenant position. Dragao Azul was left dangerously unguarded.”

“Boo hoo.”

He chastised her. “If the city dies, so do I and Zain.”

“You mean if your city’s Life Tree dies,” she corrected. “Your king and elders can all jump in a volcanic vent and boil.”

The sap of Dragao Azul’s Life Tree ran in Elan’s and Zain’s — and even Zara’s — veins. Drinking the nectar of a Life Tree blossom had imbued Zara with the power to transform into a mer. If the tree died, then he and Zain would surely die. Zara … he did not know whether her humanity would save her from that fate.

Elan did not wish to test it. “No one would accept the First Lieutenant position. I was forced to take it once more.”

“What?” Zara shot to her feet. “Great! So you tried to escape one time, and you didn’t even get a demotion. What a punishment!”

She stomped towards the stairs as if the conversation were over.

Her accusation scored his heart like the slice of an unexpected trident.

He sucked in a breath. Harsh air stuck in his throat. “It was a punishment. Fathers are supposed to bond with their young fry. Duties that could separate a father from his young fry are duties for single warriors.”

“Welcome to the human world,” she scoffed, stopping at the stairs. “Some mothers can’t even get maternity leave. And almost no fathers do.”

“But this is the world of the mer,” he reminded her. “Our young fry are our life. In Dragao Azul, separating a father from his young fry has only been done once in our city’s history. They punished a male who attempted to injure his own young fry.”

She quieted and the fire in her eyes calmed to understanding. Almost, just a little, sympathy.

He also calmed. If she had insisted he not feel the hurt, betrayal, anger, and shame at being treated to the second worst punishment possible in a city — one so terrible it had only been given out once before Elan — then he might close up into a husk.

“You never tried to escape again,” she accused, more softly, resting one hand on her hip.

“My time with Zain was supervised.” He bit the words. “I could not leave him behind.”

The king and city elders had forced Elan back into a “privileged” position of First Lieutenant and distorted the honor into a prison. They did not trust him. Wisely so, but gravely insulting at the same time, and all the more reason for him to stew in his shame.

“So how did you get free this time?”

“The warriors on duty felt pity. They allowed me to escape.”

Her gaze flicked to the bathroom where Zain was sleeping.

Bitterness welled, forced out of the ugly cracks in his heart. He had once been whole, but was now fractured by the violence he had been forced to commit, the tortures he had endured, and the unspeakable deeds which, even now, pretending to tell her the whole truth, he could not confess.

“And now I am here. You do not wish for me.”

Her gaze returned to him.

His soul ached. “You only wish for our son.”

She hardened into granite. “Of course I do. It’s my turn.”

Attacking her with pain would never reach her. He knew better. Patience and gentleness soothed her; honor and honesty opened her well-guarded heart.

But he did not have patience and gentleness. He had been broken, and she had forced him to face his sharp edges. The shadows under his eyes had not been there before. The gouges to his honor had not been there either.

“You refuse the water,” he continued, enumerating the empty litany of her crimes — how she had betrayed him by refusing to heal, refusing to reunite them, refusing to try like he was. “You run from your power. How can you protect Zain? I was wrong in coming here.”

She went ramrod straight, reacting just as he predicted. “I already said you shouldn’t have come.”

“You did not miss me. My elders were right. Only the mer remember.” Truth cut him with hot pain. “But also you do not truly wish for Zain. You did not miss him at all.”

The blood drained from her face. Her soul light darkened to utter blackness.

Mer did not experience the violent changes of humans, but in this moment, Elan felt the hole in his own chest as if he mirrored her.

She turned and stomped into the kitchen.

Abandoning him without a word? Then, she really was running away.

The world tilted. His knees folded, abruptly unable to hold his weight. He dropped onto the couch.

The things his elders had insisted — human brides didn’t remember the mer, they were grateful to escape and would never wish to become queens — was proved.

Zara, his fierce, brilliant, undefeatable bride, had never wished to see him again. Her inner turbulence was proof. Their love was dead.

Perhaps his own love had blinded him. Perhaps she had never loved him at all.

He rocked forward onto the balls of his human feet. He needed movement. To get out, to transform, to swim.

Outside, rain pounded the house and a wet breeze shook the trees and scraped the glass.

He needed to dive into the storm and escape this pain threatening his soul—

Zara stomped back into the room carrying two large paper bags. She dropped them in front of him with heavy thumps. “You think I didn’t care. You think I didn’t care?”

Her soul light burned like the sun. Hurt tinged its amber-gold light. More importantly, righteous indignation made her hot and strong. Like he remembered from their first meeting when she had braved what she thought was a trafficking cartel to rescue her sister from a terrible fate.

Zara dropped to her knees and rummaged in the first bag. She pulled out a small green baby shirt with snaps in the crotch; a smaller version of the much larger one Zain wore now. Attached to the shirt were matching socks and a hat. Blue fish swam across the green background.

“There.” She set it on the table beside her. “I didn’t care?”

He touched the fabric. It was shiny and new, soft to his fingers, and a small tag stuck out. “What is it?”

“A layette.” She pulled out a matching blanket decorated with green and blue fish. “It’s for the first few days after birth, when you bring a baby home from the hospital.”

A hospital was the location most humans birthed their young fry.

She pulled out another outfit — a larger size, blue and fuzzy, decorated with long-necked yellow creatures with brown spots. “Newborn.” And another one after that, even larger, in red. “Three months.”

The outfits filled the table. Little shoes, sun hats, booties, jackets. Six months, nine months, and finally sizes like the outfit Zain was wearing now. And other things — tiny plates and silverware, lidded containers she called sippy cups, fuzzy fish toys and clinking rattles — piled up, until the bags were empty and Zara gazed across her collection with flushed cheeks. A distant, dreamy expression suggested even she was dazed by the mass.

“I didn’t realize there were so many.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ears. It immediately popped out again as she shook her head and laughed harshly. “It’s kind of stupid. I was so numb this year, but when I was at the store and something caught my eye, I’d calculate Zain’s age and consider whether to pick it up for him. Just in case.”

Just in case her baby ever came back to her.

The hair bounced against her cheek. She shook her head again. It seemed to tickle her.

He leaned forward and tucked the strands gently, securely, behind her ear.

She took a deep breath and rested her hands on the outfits. Her forearm brushed his knees. Taking strength from his nearness. Trusting him with this vulnerability that she would never dare show to another.

His bitterness melted away.

He had misjudged her. She had never forgotten. Not for a moment.

Just like him.

Perhaps she could not express herself. Perhaps she was too broken to take the steps to heal them. To become a destined queen.

She needed his help.

Where had his patience gone? Since seeing her, all he had done was want her desperately to heal him. How selfish. But even knowing that, he still craved her mindlessly. He needed her kiss, her silky skin under his lips, her moans in his ear, her tight embrace. He needed her.

But he needed to be there for her. Fully. As a warrior trying to recapture the self that had once possessed honor.

She looked up at Elan. Grief turned fierce. “This was my last year, Elan. These unworn onesies and unused cups. This is the proof of my heartbreak.”

He hooked an index finger under her chin. “I understand.”

She blinked. Her features relaxed, her lips parted, and her gaze trained on his mouth.

It was the invitation he needed.

She understood. They were both broken. Only together could they stumble toward wholeness. Together, they would find the strength and courage to succeed.

He tugged her into his kiss.

There were so many reasons not to get physical with Elan, and Zara had enumerated them in her head while fighting her body’s reactions to his nearness. She craved to hold him gently and heal the hurt tearing him apart. Anger was her shelter. Anger and reason.

Elan’s kiss swept both aside like a crashing tide.

She clung onto his hard shoulders, gripping onto the only stable rock in her passion-swept mind.

His mouth opened and his tongue thrust into hers, branding her. Desire twisted into her center with a sweet, hot ache. It had been so long. A salty, ocean-male scent clung to his stubbled jaw.

She moaned.

He kissed into her jaw, her neck, her breasts. Forced her shirt over her head.

She stopped. “Wait.”

He gave up with making her naked and tugged her into his lap. “Zara. We need this.”

Heat and desperation roughened his voice and tugged her to give in. After all, he was right. He needed it. And she needed it too.

He was irresistible.

They could forget, go back in time, and she could lose herself in desire. Burn off the raw pain in his passion.

Her body heated, swelling and flowering beneath his expert touch as though it knew exactly the way back to the safe, happy, settled place in Elan’s arms.

But she had to be realistic. She had to protect herself from the inevitable separation. Elan was so certain she had magical powers. He refused reality. And if she believed and lost him a second time, she would never survive.

She refused to give him the assurances he craved, seeking instead to draw clearer lines between them. “This will make it harder.”

“Good.” He nuzzled her swollen breasts through her shirt. “We belong as one.”

That certainty, cocky and yet heroic, melted her resistance like an echo from the past melting through the barrier of time.

This was Elan. Her husband. The only male who ever knew her body.

And he knew it.

Tonight, only for tonight, she surrendered.

He must have felt her letting go because he pressed his advantage. Forcing her shirt up, he splayed her breasts to his hungry mouth, sucking in first one pearl with hot possession and then the other. Heat combusted. Twin peaks of desire twisted in her belly and the hot bud between her legs throbbed and slicked. She arched her back, baring herself to him, and moaned.

While his mouth was busy, he reached up. His fingers knotted into her hair, raising familiar shivers.

She gasped.

His masculine desire pressed insistently against her thighs.

Once she had thought they would never be apart. Now, she had a chance to recreate that fantasy. She wanted to see him above water. Put him in her mouth, taste him. Become one.

Zara tugged down the shorts. He helped her, shifting his hips until the cloth released and his thick, proud cock sprang free. It was also as she remembered it. Long, gorgeous, and covered in the same aquamarine swirl tattoos that covered the rest of his body with scroll artwork. She touched it, cupping the length.

He watched her with dark, passion-heavy eyes.

Zara wanted to mess him up. Watch him lose control the way he pushed for her to let go. She stroked the soft head, the shaft. He closed his eyes and groaned.

Then, he reached under her pants and cupped her feminine warmth.

Pleasure pierced her with swift longing. She rocked against his hand. He ripped the offending fabric out of the way and his shaft nudged her entrance. She panted with need. He gripped her hips, and she balanced on her knees, steadying palms on his broad shoulders.

His hot tip pierced her wet folds. Pleasure surged. She released her weight. He guided her down his shaft, filling her with wholeness once more.

They were one.

His eyes closed and his head threw back, his fingers digging into her hips. Savoring the contact like she was. She stroked his hard cheekbones. He opened his eyes, desire mixed with hunger and fear. A fierce possessiveness, unlike the gentle patience he usually wore, flared with even hotter heat.

And she felt truly warm. It was exactly what she needed. What she’d been waiting for.

But getting what she needed after such a long drought frightened her.

She tried to catch her breath. “Elan—”

He thrust.

She went up in flames.

Desperation, like he could hear her pulling away, made him thrust faster. Her heat stoked higher. The roughness was unlike him, but it was also what she needed. He stole her breath. Passion swept over her again. An orgasm broke, squeezing her body with wonder.

And then her short flight was over and she was back on Earth where their problems remained and nothing was resolved.

It was over too fast.

But Elan didn’t slow. He pushed on. And on. The aching deliciousness built pressure deep within her, more intense than anything they’d ever shared before. If lifting her to new heights of pleasure could convince her to stay, to trust in him, then he did it now. They knew this union could be lost and so entwining as husband and wife tasted even sweeter.

Zara clutched him, crying out, as the release rushed past.

And still, he thrust. A third hard, hot, soul-shattering orgasm crashed over her. She tumbled through it, carried in his arms to a place she’d never been.

“Elan!”

Wet and hot, unstoppable and eternal, his passion surged into her. His whole body tensed, fighting, as though he was suddenly as terrified of sex being over — of this moment passing — as she was.

She stroked his cheekbone gently.

Her gentleness triggered his release. He poured his liquid heat in with a shudder, collapsing on her shoulder and squeezing her tight.

As her heart returned to normal and the dampness of their sweat cooled in the rain-scented night breeze, reality returned to her in a short, cold realization.

The rightness she felt holding onto him was wrong. A trick. They hadn’t gone back into time. And they never could. Just because it felt better than she remembered, hotter and more intense, didn’t mean she could let herself forget the pain and heartbreak that awaited her.

He clung on as though he could feel her slipping away.

Being in his arms made her feel more awake, energized, and aware. And that was terrifying.

If he wormed under her skin, she would never be able to make him leave. She would never protect herself. She would be raw and vulnerable for the rest of her life.

She gathered her strength and pushed free.

He let her go reluctantly.

She stood on bare feet, her thigh muscles shaking from unexpected use.

“You are cold.” He moved to get her clothing.

“No.”

His aquamarine eyes fixed on her. For a moment, he had been her familiar hero. Her knight. Now, as she moved further back, shadows swept over him like a tide coming in. His face darkened into someone she didn’t know.

“That was a mistake,” she warned, “and it won’t happen again.”

His expression tightened. Again, his silent resistance told her that he disagreed.

But he never fought her head-on, where it would be easy to draw an ultimatum. He made her feel secure, relaxed and seduced her. She’d float into his arms without resistance.

No longer.

She backed away, ran into the kitchen, and dampened cloths for a sponge bath. Outside, the rain had stopped, and the house smelled like the distant crackle of electricity after a storm.

After sex clean-up was easier in the ocean.

Sex was different above the water. Frighteningly pleasurable … no! No, it was just different.

She returned to the living room and dressed awkwardly. Elan, sensing her wish, also pulled his clothes back on without a word. She packed away the too-small baby clothes. The cutlery could go in the kitchen; she’d stack the outfits that fit in her closet.

Elan watched her work. Frowns chased hidden emotions as though he tried on different sentences. “Your light darkens every time you run away.”

She did not flinch. She did not. “I’m not running away from what just happened.”

“What is this?”

“Cleaning.” She refolded the same outfit a third time. Anything to avoid his gaze.

“Your relationship with Zain will improve if you stand your ground and grow your power.”

“I don’t even believe this ‘power’ exists.”

“You must. Not only for me. For Zain.”

Her anger flared at him, taking an easy conduit. “You’re just trying to trick me into getting back into the ocean.”

“It is no trick. The queens’ power is well known.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“Because of what happened at the Battle for Atlantis.”

She paused removing tags and folding clothes. “Atlantis? The ancient city Kadir was looking for where humans and mer lived in harmony?”

“It’s a ruin. Kadir founded a new Atlantis next to the wreckage of the old.”

“From prison?”

“After Soren left Dragao Azul in exile, he gathered an army and freed Kadir from the All-Council prison. Three modern brides have embraced their power and rule Atlantis as the legendary mermaid queens.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. Perhaps it was the vulnerability after sex, but she found it easier to want to believe. Ruling in a city where she and Elan were allowed to be together was exactly the kind of thing she had dreamed about while she was pregnant in Elan’s castle at Dragao Azul. She wanted to live where her presence was celebrated. Where she was treated as a queen.

But his utopian tale didn’t add up. “I thought you were under ‘house arrest’ in Dragao Azul. How do you know this city or these ‘queens’ exist? And Kadir was locked into an ‘unbreakable’ prison where no one has ever escaped. Isn’t this propaganda or exaggeration?”

“No. I saw it and him.”

“When? How? Where?”

Elan’s jaw set.

He didn’t want to tell her? Because he hadn’t seen it. He didn’t know.

It was his wishful thinking. Again. She had to be the practical one for both of them. Their future — and happiness — depended on it.

Zara stood, lifting the baby bags intended for storage. “If we don’t go in the water, your warriors can’t attack.”

“But you must.” He rose, towering over her with his masculine strength. “You must fully transform. Shift to fins and embrace your power.”

“Now that’s crazy talk.” She carried the bags back to the closet. “I was swimming in your city, underwater, a year and I never grew the ability to make fins.”

“Because we thought brides were capable of little, but now we know the truth. You must finish transforming.”

She shook her head. It wasn’t like she’d never dreamed or tried. She had tried. Mostly when Elan was out hunting or conferencing privately with the other males; things she wasn’t allowed to participate in because as a bride she’d been sequestered in his castle.

Well, she’d been supposed to be sequestered…

Zara returned to the point. “Impossible.”

“If you will believe, it is possible.”

Mind over matter?

Ridiculous.

Her mind hadn’t transformed her before. It hadn’t saved her from being ripped away from her husband and baby son. Her mind hadn’t overcome the matter of Soren and the other warriors forcing her to the surface, tearing their family apart and destroying her choice, her personhood, her sense of self.

Before that, her mind hadn’t saved Milly from nearly being sold into slavery. It hadn’t saved either of them from abuse as kids. Zara got decent grades but sometimes she thought her test scores were luck. Because clearly she was stupid when it mattered most.

Optimism was for idiots.

Mind hadn’t done anything. Elan’s hope was misplaced. He came here without a plan.

It was up to Zara to save them all.

“I’m not getting in the water for anything,” she declared.

He growled. Frustration made his hands clench. “How can you turn your back on your son?”

“I’m not.” She stared him down. “The water is your domain. On land, we have laws. Police. The ancient covenant can’t touch us here. Especially if we go far, far away from your city.”

“On land you cannot claim your ultimate power.”

“I don’t need it.” Even if such a thing existed, which she was pretty sure it didn’t. “I’m not going in the water, and that’s final.”

“What if you have no choice?” He set his feet. “For Zain will you not try?”

Red tinted across her vision with fury.

“No,” she snapped. “And if you ask me like that again, this conversation is over. I will drive you to Border and Immigration tonight, and that’s the last you’ll see of me or Zain, forever.”

He stared at her in shock.

That was right. He wasn’t using her own son against her. And it was out of character for him to try.

She nailed her finger in his chest. “What are you really hiding?”

His eyes flared in amazement. He looked so shocked, and then guilty, like she’d caught him.

“Why will you not simply believe?” he begged. “I have told you everything you need to know.”

“That’s clearly a lie.”

His shoulders sagged. The darkness deepened. He covered his mouth. A strange, twitchy desperation made him hunch over as if she were backing him into a corner. “You already hate me for failing to protect you.”

“If I already hate you then you have nothing more to lose.”

“You will hate me more.”

“That’s a chance we both have to take.”

He covered his face. “I refuse.”

“Hiding doesn’t work for you, Elan.” She faced him head-on. “Neither does lying. It’s dishonorable.”

He shot to his feet and slammed his palm against his chest so loud it made her jump. “I am dishonorable!”

Elan’s fury was savage. Unsettling. Like nothing she had seen before.

“You are right, Zara. I am not the male you knew. When you know what I have done — what I have been forced to do —then you will run away. Far, far away. And carry Zain with you.”

This was the male she loved. The one she couldn’t stay away from. The one that, as her final gift to him for all he had done for her, she gave a second chance.

Elan stared at his empty, scarred hands. “Before my dishonor poisons your souls.”

She set her feet and braced herself. For whatever was coming. For however much it would destroy their hopes. “Tell me the whole truth. Right now.”

He stared at her without seeing her, utterly lost. “I went to Atlantis. I saw these queens.” His gaze blackened. “And then I tried to kill them.”

Elan’s answer sat heavily on the still air.

I tried to kill them.

Zara would hate him. Her face would turn from stiff distrust to horror and then disgust. And then she would order him out, knowing he was irredeemable. Nothing he did now made up for the horrors he had committed.

She was supposed to be a queen. Queen or bride, Zara was a female, and all females must be protected. Honored. Respected.

And he had tried to destroy them.

Zara remained silent. In shock? He didn’t dare to look. He, a fearless warrior who had once held the highest honor in his city and the respect of his warriors, could not bear to see the disgust reflected in his wife’s eyes.

“I tried to kill the queens more than once,” he said, emphasizing how dishonorably he had behaved. “Do you not hate me now?”

“Tell me everything,” she said again.

Not hating him. Not judging him. Not sneering or dripping in disgust.

No, she issued an order. A simple order. Tell me everything.

His heart lifted.

Even now, Zara looked to redeem him.

But there was no redemption.

She waited, hands on her full hips. Gorgeous, dark hair mussed and dark eyes snapping. Uncompromising.

Her goodwill had to end. The wish to reunite, which had kept him going these last days, would end within the first hours on the shore. He would hold nothing in his hands but sand.

“Kadir’s vision — Atlantis — gained strength.” Elan swallowed the harshness in his throat. It had never hurt so much to breathe. “His queen defended Atlantis from raiders using legendary powers. News of them caused great disturbances across the bottom of the ocean.”

“You heard?” she repeated.

He nodded.

“So you didn’t see these so-called powers.”

“Not at that time.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I was First Lieutenant of Dragao Azul, locked to the city, as you said. Then, representatives of the All-Council came to us.”

As First Lieutenant, he had led their honor guard into the city. A highly decorated representative, proud commanders, and well-fed warriors wielding glittering tridents. These powerful males had reached the highest positions of honor to enforce the rules of the All-Council. They were just, and wise, and worthy of respect.

Or so he had thought.

“The All-Council raised an army to fight the blasphemers. Because Dragao Azul had produced both Kadir and Soren, Atlantis’s King and its First Lieutenant, it was Dragao Azul’s responsibility to lead the destruction.”

She studied him without judgment. Yet. “So they conscripted you to be the General?”

How could she guess? Yes, that was exactly what had happened.

“Dragao Azul had to force me to be the First Lieutenant. Certainly no warrior would volunteer to become General. But the king could not refuse. The All-Council threatened to test their army on our Life Tree.”

Faced with the destruction of the Life Tree, his king sent Elan. And Elan went. To the very city he and Zara had once dreamed of escaping to, Elan had set on destruction.

Zara would never have turned against her old allies. Not even to save her own life. She would have fought to the death. He was the failure.

A silence fell.

Finally, Zara spoke. “I assume your people also threatened Zain.”

“Yes. If I did not go to war, I could no longer see him.”

“No visitation? I would have expected something worse.”

He tilted his head. “What could be worse?”

“That if you refused, he would suffer.”

“Suffer? You mean an injury?” Horror filled him. He recoiled. “Of course not! No warrior would ever harm a young fry.”

She frowned.

“This threat was a brutal punishment,” he assured her.

The cruelty had shocked all the warriors. Even the elders. But no one had protested.

Not aloud.

They’d gathered at the edge of Dragao Azul’s territory and, instead of singing battle songs for success in warfare, they’d hummed the requiem for sending a fallen warrior on his final journey into the blacknight sea.

They knew his king had sent him off to die.

Zara studied him pensively.

“I went to kill Kadir and Soren,” he repeated, because she seemed confused.

“I get it.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t blame you.”

“You do not?”

“I wanted to kill Kadir for his pointless preaching. I certainly would have killed Soren the night he forced me to the surface.”

Her words tingled against his chest like a balm. She didn’t hate him. Yet.

He ruthlessly crushed his hope. “I led the army, as ordered, but not whole-heartedly. So, not only did I betray my allies. I also failed in my duties as a warrior, a mer, and a male.”

“Shocking,” she said dryly.

“It was dishonorable and unkind. Most warriors were dissenters, like myself, forcefully conscripted.”

The All-Council orders broke the first rules of honorable combat — to treat every warrior like a brother demanding respect — and this was yet another knife into Elan’s soul.

“That sounds hard for you.” Zara eased her weight from one foot to the other. “When’s the part about the queens?”

His deepest shame.

“One day, on reconnaissance, I saw Soren’s bride.”

“He got a bride?” Zara’s brows leaped for her forehead. “Him?”

Elan had felt the same. Only his had been tainted with bitter shock and rage.

Certainly Soren deserved a bride. Once, Elan had wished for the imposing male’s happiness. But to see him enjoying the closeness Elan couldn’t slammed his grief at losing Zara full force, turning his vision cloudy and twisting his self-loathing to blind fury.

“I attacked recklessly. It is,” he sucked in a deep breath, confessing the worst moment, “the least honorable act I have committed in my whole life. His bride could have been injured or killed.”

“But?”

“But she used her queen power to push me back. She shielded herself and Soren from my attack.”

Zara raised one skeptical brow.

“If she had not done this, I would have committed an unforgivable act,” he finished.

“But you didn’t. Nothing happened.”

“I attacked—”

“Yes, you blindly attacked Soren while his queen was nearby and she repelled you. So nothing happened.”

She understood nothing. “I broke all rules of honor, warfare, and the code of the mer.” He explained slowly as to a newborn young fry. “I attacked a warrior in the presence of his bride.”

“Yes. Honor. Sorry, my mistake, I forgot the point.” She rubbed her brow. “And so the other times you attacked also failed?”

“Only because the queens used their powers to—”

“They prevented it?”

“—prevent it, yes.” How strange. He’d expected Zara’s judgment to hurt, but confessing lightened the weight crushing his soul. “During the final battle, I escaped to Dragao Azul.”

Abandoning warriors in battle also broke multiple rules, but by then, Elan had felt he had no honor left.

“And you were welcomed back as a hero,” she guessed dryly.

“I preferred my enemies — and allies — to believe I had died in the battle. I snuck into Dragao Azul for the sole purpose of bringing Zain to you. And I was caught, but the supervising warriors pitied me and allowed us to escape.”

“They let you go?”

“We all felt the injustice. The All-Council is supposed to ensure treaties are upheld. Yet they broke nearly all treaties in their attack on Atlantis.”

Dragooning Elan at trident-point was only one example.

Sacrificing honor to enforce the ancient covenant was like breaking an arm to distract from the pain of a scratched fin. Zara never seemed surprised at such hypocrisy, but the mer were rightly shocked.

“Now you know,” he said. “Everything.”

Her gaze narrowed slightly. “Hmm. I just have a few questions.”

“Ask.”

Details about the battles, Elan’s role in the attacks, and small issues of no importance filled her mind. Like, did Atlantis have a Life Tree like Dragao Azul? Did he actually see the queens with transformed fins? Had he led any attacks or fled at the first moment?

After his final answer, the silence, in the absence of the rain and wind, felt absolute. Now Elan’s fate would be decided.

And she was studying him with … well, with unhappiness. And consternation. As though she wanted to hate him, but didn’t feel justified. The only thing more important to Zara than protecting others was justice. Even though he had described a clear picture of how wrong he had acted, she did not revile him.

Finally, he asked. “You do not hate me?”

Her lips squinched to one side. “No.”

Shock jolted him. Was it possible? He moved forward, reaching for her, needing the proof in her touch, her pliant body in his arms.

“Stop.” She held up her hands. “Don’t be hasty. I’m still processing.”

His arms dropped to his sides. Processing meant she had not decided. When she fully comprehended, then she would change.

Her expression softened. “I understand you’re traumatized. But based just on what you’ve told me tonight, I don’t think you did anything really wrong.”

The hope in him rekindled. He tried to snuff it. She hadn’t processed. She wasn’t certain. He had done many really wrong things since their last parting.

“You asked me why I came here.” He swallowed and faced the truth. “Once, I offered you a noble castle in a well-established city and myself as an honorable warrior. Now, I have nothing. No castle, no city, no honor. I am an exile. I have nowhere to go.”

“So you came to me,” she snorted.

“Yes.”

She sobered.

“I have come to my end. My only desire was to bring you Zain. You will keep him safe where I failed. You have a power that can drive off an army. You must capture it for all our sakes.” He let out his final sigh. “This is as far as I go.”

She frowned. “You talk like you’re about to die.”

“The All-Council cannot allow a mer who has committed such betrayals, even an exile, to live. They will find me. And then, they will kill me.”

Her mouth drew into a flat line.

But he was not trying to manipulate her. He eased forward. Gently, softly stroking her taut arms. “Because of this truth, I want to spend my last hours with you.”

She frowned. Processing again, still.

He should not wish for too much. But still, he wished for all of her.

In the bathroom, Zain made a lilting noise.

Zara moved instantly to the doorway of the bathroom. Zain had rolled upright and looked at them, awake but sleepy. He lifted his hands and made the noise again. “Oo?”

Zara started forward and then stopped and curled her hands into fists. She gestured at Elan. “You go.”

His heart ached. She was still afraid of hurting Zain with her ragged desire.

Elan stepped forward, collected their son, and rocked Zain in his arms until the baby closed his eyes once more and collapsed over Elan’s shoulder. He resettled the baby in his cool, damp seaweed. Zain curled his fingers in ropes and sighed, encouraged back to sleep.

At the doorway, Zara ducked away.

His heart squeezed.

She had finished her processing and would run from him now. His actions had sparked her hate. She would never have lead an army against Atlantis, not even—

“I’m sorry.” She stopped and took his hand, teased her fingers around his. “I accused you of leaving me alone as if that were your choice. It was a long year apart for both of us.”

His throat went dry. Elan nodded, afraid to speak. He didn’t want to break the spell.

“You look exhausted.”

He coughed. “I do not remember the last time I slept.”

“Come here.” She tugged him to the wide couch, made him lie down, and spread a thin blanket over top. “Sleep. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He did not know whether sleep would be possible. Alone, in a human room, could he escape the dark memories that had kept him awake in the sea?

She sat on the edge of the couch and removed her sandals.

He startled.

She glanced over her shoulder and raised her brow. “Problem?”

He shook his head violently.

“Scoot back.”

He shoved deep into the seam of the couch.

She eased against him, her back to his chest, her cool, soft derriere pressing against his stiffening cock. Her voice smiled. “Still not satisfied?”

“I am very satisfied.” He couldn’t help his body’s reaction. Her nearness calmed the raging in his chest and the self-loathing choking him with recriminations. She really did forgive him. His chest shuddered. His breath ran away. He could cry. “Very.”

His thigh suctioned against hers. She stroked his hard muscle soothingly. “You haven’t slept in a long time, right?”

He cleared the choke from his throat, but his answer was still ragged. “No.”

“Sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

There would be another talk.

Since the alternative was her never speaking to him again, he collapsed into exhaustion. He should have appreciated the soft, delicious form of his wife pressed up against him. How many more opportunities would he have? And after he’d promised himself so many times to savor her, too…

Elan awoke alone. Late morning light warmed his couch. The house was empty.

Had Zara reconsidered her feelings and slipped away? She was justified to fear such an honor-less, dark-souled male.

He walked through the rooms, desperation and nerves building.

His sense that they were not within the house was correct. Zara was outside sitting on the terracotta. Beside her, Zain wore another human outfit. This time, a brown onesie with two soft, rounded ears on a hood. Some kind of gentle, plush creature.

She wore a fresh pair of beige long shorts with red bow ties, a fluffy red shirt that displayed the attractive mounds of her full breasts, and a wide-brimmed white hat.

“You slept soundly,” she noted in greeting, her smile unguarded in the sun.

Her smile struck him in the chest. Unguarded after the previous night? Then, something had changed.

“You did not attempt to wake me?” he asked, focusing on anything but the throat-squeezing change. “You are becoming closer to Zain.”

“He still cries when I pick him up. Milly brought him out here before she went to class. But he doesn’t mind if I sit close like this. I can even touch him.” She placed her palm on the small of his back. Zain’s soul light flared, matching hers. “So long as it’s not picking him up or hugging him.”

His chest ached.

“He is reacting to your soul light,” he said. “You are calm and bright now. But you become dark when you pick him up.”

She scowled. Her light darkened.

“There.” He pointed to Zain, who began to fuss and crawl away. “Your sadness and anger affects him.”

“What am I supposed to do?” She rubbed her chest roughly as though trying to scrape her negative feelings away. “I missed the first year of his life. He doesn’t know me. And I’m the only one who upsets him.”

“That is because he is closest to you.”

She snorted. “He’s closest to you, obviously.”

True as well. He and Zain had an unbreakable connection. But so did Zain and Zara. And it meant more because Zain hadn’t seen Zara since birth. The connection existed powerfully even after a year.

But she couldn’t break the cycle. Zain’s apparent rejection hurt her heart, which then caused them both pain.

Facing Zara head-on never worked. But approaching her sideways was a good option.

“It is as your Vaw Vaw said,” he said softly, squatting beside the two of them and tucking a loose strand of silky hair behind her ear. “You are his important person.”

Her light swelled with his touch.

Zain lifted his upper body on his hands and looked up at his mother. She softened and stroked his back. He crawled toward her, his palms pushing and his fins paddling in the air, wiggling forward. She stroked his soft dark hair and fat cheeks.

“It takes time,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “Ugh. I just want to be over this already.”

“You can be together more naturally in the water. Your feelings will flow.”

Her smile twisted to wry irritation. “You know what I think about the water.”

Anger pushed him to stand abruptly. “Why?”

She squinted up at him as though to ask, Really?

“You must grow your power. You have never backed away from a fight, Zara.”

“That was before. Now I’m smart.” She clenched her fists on her lap. “I don’t want to lose Zain again.”

Not him. Zain.

He was jealous of his son.

The pettiness only made him angrier. “The best way to protect him is to capture your power. Go to the beach today. Now. Dive beneath the waves and grow your confidence. Then you can make your fins.”

Her brows rose. “Which one of us isn’t listening?”

Frustration gnawed on him.

Last night she’d claimed not to hate him, and she’d slept beside him, giving him the comfort he most craved. He’d slept well for the first time in a year.

But this morning impatience welled in his heart. Biting self-loathing, fearsome anxiety. Her refusal to go into the water was like a denial of his existence. She tolerated him as a human, rejected him as a mer.

“Zain has never spent so long above the surface,” he snarled, reminding her that her own son was also a mer.

“He’s never spent any time above the surface,” she returned, “so another few days won’t hurt.”

“Zara.”

“You said he’s half human. Humans don’t need the water.”

“Do not ask him to deny half of his heritage.”

She gritted her teeth. “Why not? You do it all the time.”

Her accusation stabbed him.

This judgment of traditions also denied him. Criticizing Zain’s raising denied him. Rejecting her power denied him.

But he did not fight her. He waited.

She rubbed her forehead. “Sorry. I know it’s not you.”

A small bit of the impatience eased.

“You, Zara, drank the elixir. You, too, are mer.”

“Not according to your people.”

“That is their error. Do not let them determine your destiny.”

She frowned.

“Did you not love swimming beneath the waves? Diving through unseen lands, dancing with incredible creatures?”

The corners of her lips turned up. She sighed. “Don’t quote my own words back at me.”

“You shone so brightly then. You can do so again. When you deny this part of yourself, you shrink and your soul light darkens.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m still feeling muddled. Blurred. Like, I can’t tell if I’m happy right now or terrified. All I know is I feel something, and that’s still a change.” She looked up at him with her dark brown eyes. “Can you give me time?”

Impatience gnawed at him.

He forced his nod.

She folded her lips, stroked his cheek in thanks, and focused on Zain.

He straightened. His limbs felt too loose and his chest wanted … something. She had agreed to consider going into the ocean and he wasn’t satisfied. No, in truth, he was more irritated than ever. He rubbed at the worrisome itch beneath his heart.

What was wrong with him?

He had confessed. Why was he not healed of these dark feelings? She had forgiven him. Unfathomable. So why wasn’t he already better?

He pushed. “We will go to the beach.”

“After Border and Immigration.” She rose. “Eat. It’s going to be a long day.”

They attended the offices and filled out reams of paperwork. Despite her reluctance to claim her power, she did claim him as her husband.

Something had changed.

And even though she quickly exhibited signs of irritation and impatience in the waiting room and then in the offices, he felt increasingly settled. So long as he was with her, he could endure. And sitting was no problem.

“How soon until we can get passports?” she asked the officers. “I want to take my husband and son to California as soon as possible.”

“It is not so simple,” the agent replied. “If Portuguese citizenship is granted to this merman, what of others who arrive on our shores? They do not carry paperwork. How are we to know if another country has already claimed them? Do they have rights to our medical care or state benefits?”

“Their medical care is the magical tree in their underwater village,” she said dryly. “The Life Tree? From which all the super valuable, healing Sea Opals come from? Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Then what about voting?” The agent shook his head. “There are many questions. They must be answered thoroughly for all mermen who arise from the sea.”

“I don’t care about voting. This is life or death.”

“Elan has already explained he will experience no risk if he remains on land.”

“But he’s likely to go into the sea. He’s a merman.”

The agent stared at her as if he had no remedy for bad decisions.

She tried again. “We’re on a tiny island in the middle of a vast ocean, which you can see from every point. If the other mermen decided to come onto the land, they’d find us.”

“We will deal with that unlikely scenario when it occurs.”

“By then it will be too late!”

The agent’s face closed.

“Please? Can’t you give us the passport now and decide on voting later?”

“This explosive display of emotions does not help your case,” he said primly and dismissed them.

She stomped out of the office into the evening sunset.

“You are frustrated,” Elan identified.

“Of course! These guys have us pinned to a rock with a trident and then he’s like, ‘Don’t get upset.’ Of course I’m going to get upset.” She swore at the absent agents. “Why don’t they just turn you and Zain over to your people right now and be done with it?”

“No,” he said faintly. “That would not be good.”

“Obviously. Jerks!”

He had followed enough of the proceedings to understand that his unprecedented appearance had repercussions. If Portugal granted Elan refugee status, then it opened the door to any other mer who might arise from the sea. And if Zara tried to get him American citizenship as her husband, then she needed to go through the American Embassy, which was still trying to decide the nationality of the first merman to request asylum — a warrior from the Gulf of Mexico named Torun who married an Oregonian named Lucy.

Zara led them to Milly’s car for a second evening with Vaw Vaw’s family. There, amongst friends, she calmed down enough to hold a conversation with her sister.

“I researched the queens at school like you asked me to,” Milly told Zara over creamy seafood chowder. “Well, I did it before, actually, but I went looking for updates.”

“What did you find?”

“The old Facebook videos are still up. The ones of Lucy channeling her powers. You weren’t impressed before, but want to see them again?”

“I would like to see,” Elan said.

They huddled around the moving images on Milly’s cell phone. It was difficult to make out. Blurry moving shapes, bubbles, and flashes of light underwater.

Zara sighed. “I remember now. The footage was so bad it’s like a Bigfoot sighting or UFO lights. Squint and you can see anything.”

Elan squinted. He did not see anything. “What is happening here?”

Milly popped olives and cheese into her mouth, chewed, and answered. “Torun’s pinched between his people’s army and Lucy’s psycho ex. She’s too far away to help, so she channels her power into a magical shield.”

“No fins,” Zara mused.

“Wrong angle. She’s holding the camera. Well, I guess the camera was attached to her dive gear.” Milly popped in another olive. “She made her fins on Oprah.”

“Did she make a magical shield on Oprah?”

Milly shook her head. “That only works under water. The powers work like sound waves. Air is too thin.”

“I’m guessing no one’s done a scientific study.”

“You can read a bunch of theories. But yeah. There’s only three ‘mermaid queens’ and none of them have worked their magic in an MIT swim tank.”

“Because they can’t or because they won’t?”

“Good question.”

Zara rubbed her forehead like she had a headache.

Milly smiled sympathetically. “I’ll keep researching.”

“Thanks.” She dropped her hand.

Elan caught it. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” She traced his battle scars cracking the aquamarine ink of his honor tattoos. “I can’t believe I’m actually considering risking my son’s safety on the experience of three people.”

“They are only the first,” he assured her. “Tonight, after this dinner, we will go to the ocean.”

She untangled her fingers. “It’s dark.”

“Darkness does not matter under the water.”

Her soul light flickered, flaring with anger and then collapsing into a distant emotion he couldn’t reach. “It’s dangerous.”

“Going into the water will make you whole.”

She scowled in disagreement.

But to his shock after dinner Zara asked Milly to drop them off at the beach for an hour. He divested his clothes and checked the reefs for signs of other warriors, then returned to collect her and Zain.

“Come in with us,” he urged her, while Zain crawled across the moonlit black sand toward the crashing waves.

She sat by the piled clothes and hugged her knees. “This is a bad idea.”

“There are no mer.”

“So you think.” She rocked gently. “They can guess you came here. It will be safer in California.”

“There are mer near your California.”

“But not from your city.”

“No, but under the water is total war. Here. Dragao Azul. Nehwas. All the cities under the oceans.”

“But the other cities don’t care about us.”

“The other cities do care about a warrior taking his young fry into exile. Even if I am not their citizen, they cannot allow our family to exist.”

She frowned harder.

Elan gripped her shoulders and rested his forehead against hers. “Please. Zara.”

“You heard the Border and Immigration agent. There is no risk if we remain on land.”

“For how long?”

She bit her lip. The relatives at Vaw Vaw’s house thought their situation would not be resolved for months. But this was more than a dispute of nationality. Elan was a different race. It could take years.

He could not remain on a prison of land for years. Neither could Zain.

And neither could Zara.

“You avoid the water out of fear. But that makes you a half person. Come into the water now. Defeat your fears, embrace your radiance, and heal your soul.”

“Not all enemies can be fought head-on.”

“Zara—”

“Forget it.” She pushed him back and hugged her knees again. “Even assuming I do have these powers, which I don’t, jumping in now would be foolhardy. I’ll try it where it’s safe.”

“Where is safe?”

“Somewhere else.”

He released her reluctantly. Her soul shone brighter than the moon and she would not be swayed. She remained on the shoreline while he slipped beneath the waves with Zain. Re-entering the mer world, for a few hours, that was his natural home.

Under the water, spiraling coral made a labyrinth against stunning volcanic chasms and obsidian cathedrals. Zain whirled and played, darting after singing silver fish and giggling. Zara would not worry if she could hear him with her mer-ears beneath the waves.

He had to convince her to accept her power. Their solitude would not last forever. She needed to come into the water for Zain and for him.

And for herself.

It was the only way she would ever find wholeness.

Maybe it was the only way he would find wholeness too.

Elan kicked his long fins, diving through shimmering schools of nocturnal fish, Zain his baby shadow. Perhaps the one Elan concentrated on healing should not be Zara. Perhaps the one who most needed healing was himself.

Because if their survival as a family depended on him, then he would fail.

His webbed fingers flexed for his missing trident.

He would fight to the death. But it would not be enough. He would fail. And he would die.

As Elan and Zain slipped beneath the waves, a sharp pang sliced into Zara. This was how it would feel when they left her. She would be on the beach like this. Alone, in the darkness, the scent of sand and surf and decomposing fish in her nostrils.

Just like all the past year.

Refusing the water was like pretending what had happened to her … hadn’t. That was deeply shameful but she couldn’t help it. Zara couldn’t ever be helpless like she’d been that night. Never.

She lay back against the cool sand and stared up at the cloud-scuffed, star-studded sky.

Why had she remained on the Azores?

She’d been dumped on the beach that night because she’d fulfilled her purpose, the police had said. They didn’t know about mermen then, so they blamed a human trafficking cartel. But they hadn’t been far wrong. Human trafficking cartel or undersea warriors’ covenant, the end result had been the same.

In the first days, she’d looked for Elan everywhere. In the hospital. At the police station. He’d promised if the worst happened and they were forced apart, he would come for her. She had believed him.

Until … she hadn’t.

It set in slowly, like the dropping of a fog. Depression, Milly’s therapist called it. The realization that he wouldn’t come. The one man she had trusted, had given her heart to, would not be coming to give it back. All the possible reasons why — he couldn’t, he’d been injured, he was dead — all faded into the same truth. He wasn’t coming. Numbness dulled the raw, stabbing ache. But like a terminal illness, the pain never went away.

Now he was here.

Her baby was here.

A year later — her mind screamed as it came awake — but they were all, as promised, here.

He said she had special powers.

He’d been wrong before.

So what if he was wrong now? What if warriors in the water had already dragged him and Zain away? What if she was lying on the shore, oblivious, and they never appeared above the waves?

She rubbed her chest.

A crab scuttled past, shuffling in the moonlit dark.

Elan had told her everything. He’d always been completely honest with her. Overly optimistic, young and arrogant, but always honest.

I have nowhere to go.

When he hit the end of himself, he swung back around and came to her. In his darkest hour, his final thoughts had revolved around returning to her.

Which was why she made him part of her escape plans. Milly was right. Despite complications, in her heart, she wanted Elan.

He was her one.

Once they resolved the passport and citizenship issues, she would take Elan and Zain home to her aunt in California. Safely away from Dragao Azul, she could try to discover her … it sounded so stupid saying it. Her power.

If Elan and Zain weren’t kidnapped already.

How long had they been gone?

She closed her eyes and hugged her chest.

Her parents called her stupid. Falling for scams like Elan’s claim was about as crazy as believing in mermen.

And yet there were mermen…

Zara wasn’t running. She was being smart. Escaping. Some enemies were too powerful to fight head-on.

Too well-connected. Too sociopathically charming.

Like her parents.

We own you, her father had snarled at her once. We gave you life. You can’t run away from that. You owe us.

We’re family.

To her parents, neither she nor Milly were actual people. They were only extensions to use and abuse, like long hair that could be chopped off or fingernails that could be painted.

The only option was to run, fast and hard, and hide behind an impenetrable defense so they could never break in. Never get the advantage.

If they had an in, the moment they had something over her or Milly, they would twist that vulnerability around like a knife and hold it to her throat.

Zara had studied narcissistic personality disorder and psychopathy in college. Both fit her parents. They were so normal when interacting with other people. Reasonable, friendly, ordinary.

When they turned on their own children, the mask slipped off, revealing the evil inside.

And Elan’s so-called city’s warriors, “honorable” and “trustworthy,” were exactly the same.

Two years ago she had witnessed her parents’ selfishness first-hand. They had invited Milly, who was struggling under her well-meaning aunt’s strict rules, to the Azores to finish high school and go to university. They’d wanted to reconnect.

Zara had been cautious, but Milly had been ecstatic.

“I haven’t been there since I was three!” She was dancing, Zara could tell, on the other end of the cell phone. “It’s like rediscovering long-lost family. And there will be no curfews!”

Zara rubbed the ridged scar on her forehead. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely!”

Milly had been three but Zara had been seven when their grandfather died. Scrounging moldy plates for a meal while her parents chucked wine bottles at her head — laughing when the glass shattered — was a memory she’d mostly suppressed.

But Milly hadn’t suffered. She’d always been their parents’ favorite. And she was no helpless child.

Zara let her hand drop. “Call if you need anything.”

“Of course. Don’t be such a worry-wart! This is going to be great.”

And at first, it had been. Excitement at their rich lifestyle gradually bled to distress and, finally, disappearance.

Her letter arrived on the last day of Zara’s senior finals. How her parents started out nice but fought all the time about money. How when Milly, an essentially good kid who just wanted to spread her wings a little, refused to drink or take drugs or go anywhere alone with their creepier friends, they got mean. And, finally, how they took away her money, passport, clothes, and cell phone, and made her a prisoner on their yacht. They were moored at the Ilha Sagrada in a last-ditch effort to force her into some ancient surrogacy “Sea Bride” cult.

“The legend says, ‘when the moon lights the spring path, a lord of the sea will arise, shower the family with wealth, and claim the daughter for his bride.’” Milly’s letter explained. “Our parents know people who got Sea Opal gemstones this way, though I don’t think they believe the ‘sea lord’ part for a moment. But, honestly, Zara, if a real, live ‘sea lord’ appeared in front of me right now, I wouldn’t hesitate. An undersea kingdom can’t possibly be worse than what I’m going through right now.”

The rest of the letter was filled with how she was to blame for her predicament, how she had driven her parents to their actions, and other toxic brainwashing abusers used to groom, hobble, and finally break their victims. It read like an example testimony out of Zara’s textbooks. Except it was her sister, and it had happened on Zara’s watch.

What Social Justice major could fail her own sister? Zara knew the signs. She’d just been too busy, too certain she was the only victim, too complacent to pay attention.

She would never forgive herself.

Zara had arrived in the Azores, contacted police, and chartered her own boat to the isolated Ilha Sagrada where Milly was held captive. The police were delayed by a worse emergency, so Zara stormed the stronghold expecting to find ropes, sedatives, and violent kidnappers.

Instead, she found only her sister and her parents.

Her sister had hunched in a corner of the cave wearing a dirty hotel bathrobe. One arm locked tight around her knees. Her gaze focused on the small pool in the middle of the cavern.

Her mother sat nearby and poured insults like poison syrup into her ears.

“You have my hair. Such pretty hair. Well, it would be pretty if it wasn’t so greasy. You’re dirty. Ugly. No one can stand you. Your aunt couldn’t stand you, and neither could your sister. I can’t stand you either, and that’s why you have to repay our kindness. We invited you here. You owe us.”

Zara stepped into the shaft of light. “Milly.”

Her sister blinked, frowned, and then focused as though coming out of a fog. “Zara. You came.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I knew you’d come.”

Zara held out her hand. “Let’s go.”

Her mother clamped a hand on Milly’s arm, forcing her back down. “It’s not time to go yet.”

Milly wavered.

“Yes, it is.” Zara stared into the black pits. “There’s a boat waiting for us and the police are on their way.”

“Police?” Her mother looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

“Come on.” Zara tugged Milly to her bare feet.

Her mother clawed on, dragged upright as well. “Milly wants to be here. She wants to help us.”

“Great. She can explain that in the police station.”

“No,” her mother said. “The time is now. She wants to be here.”

Milly hesitated. Her voice sounded thick with disuse, and this close, she did smell unwashed, with sour breath as though she’d been afraid to eat or take off her clothes. Dark hollows shadowed her eyes; she hadn’t been sleeping either. “They took everything. My money, my passport.”

“She gave it to us,” her mother shrieked.

“We’ll get it reissued at the embassy,” Zara assured her quietly.

A weight lifted from her sister’s brow.

Her mother blackened. “If you leave here, Milly, you’ll never go to university.”

Milly hesitated again.

Did all traffickers read the same textbook?

“Forget it,” Zara said. “We’ll sort it out later.”

“But they’re going to pay for my tuition.” Milly frowned. “All of it.”

“That’s what scholarships are for.”

“But—”

“It’s a lie. They don’t have the money. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be selling you to some stranger.” Zara tugged her. “Let’s go.”

Milly started to walk to freedom.

Their mother sucked in a deep breath and screamed, high-pitched, like a young girl. The noise pierced Zara’s ears like a pin. Milly clamped her hands over hers and crouched, shaking.

Their father rose like a bear from hibernation, stumbling to his feet with a furious roar. He fixed on his wife, who broke off with a gasp, and then on Zara.

“Who’re you?” he demanded, his voice steady and his question ending on a snarl.

For the first time since arriving in the country, a cold shudder of suppressed memories rolled over Zara. Ugly fear burned the back of her throat like acid bile.

She froze.

Her mother spoke in an ordinary tone. “That’s our plain daughter, Zara.”

He stared at her without a flicker of recognition. But his manner changed from a hulking bear to a charismatic businessman. “Zara! I didn’t recognize you. Are you coming to join our family holiday? What a nice surprise.”

Milly clung to her.

Zara shook herself free of the spell. She backed away.

“Where are you going?” he asked, the picture of cheer.

“She’s taking Milly away, and she says the police are coming.”

He blinked. “The police aren’t coming.”

Hot anger forced itself out of Zara’s mouth. “Yes, they are!”

That’s how she missed the sign.

Milly whimpered.

Her father threw his half-full gin bottle. It punched her shoulder, knocking her sideways. She landed on her butt.

And then her father was on her.

He shoved Milly out of the way. She shrieked. His fist gripped Zara by the hair and he wrenched her head back. The shock of it made her whole body jerk. Her skin stretched tight. His face loomed, shadowed by the blinding skylight. His gin-laced breath stank.

“I don’t like people who sneak in to hurt me.”

Her heart rate escalated to black.

She tried to swallow. He was pulling her hair so taut it made her face clench. She could barely suck in a breath. Her gaze tunneled.

He shook her. His smile remained intact. “Understand me?”

Behind him, her mother was standing over Milly. Watching. No one was doing anything. She was all alone.

She couldn’t speak no matter how hard she tried. Was her father going to snap her neck?

And then, over his shoulder, a man emerged from the pool.

She only had a sense of movement. Lithe muscle, severe grace. The amber glint of a sharply bladed staff, a trident. Aquamarine tattoos.

The male crossed the cavern and gripped her father around the back of the neck the same way he gripped her. Her father let her go in shock and struggled to turn and face his attacker. “Who—”

The male flung her father across the cavern.

Her father landed in a heap, rolled, and groaned.

Zara dropped to her palms and gasped for breath. Apparently while her father had been gripping her, he’d also been strangling her, and she hadn’t noticed from the all-consuming panic. The black tunnel receded as oxygen returned to her lungs.

She looked up to see the male — nude, tattoos swirling over his torso and fine buttocks — pointing his blade at her mother. Her mother froze. Saying words in an unfamiliar language, he nudged the tip on the back of her hand. She released Milly, and both women stepped back. He waved his trident in a subtle but unmistakable order to move away. Their mother moved into the middle of the cavern until she was closer to their father.

The male spoke to them harshly in an unfamiliar language. Although it wasn’t clear what he said, everyone flinched at the appropriate moments.

Milly crawled to Zara and clung to her as if she were the only real thing. They were treated to a view of his fine backside as he lectured their parents.

“The legend is true,” she whispered to Zara. “It’s the Sea Lord.”

It was hard to argue with her. He’d emerged like a ninja from a pool. In partial profile, he had a dark head of hair, bluish, tanned skin swirled with aquamarine tribal tattoos, and implacable muscle that spoke of a life of hard physical exertion. The salty droplets on his skin could be sweat. He had the build of a warrior. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, firm buttocks, huge thighs and calves, and arms that rippled from his neck down to his wrists in perfect muscle groups. He was like a bodybuilder who existed on fish and seaweed; high protein, zero fat.

And he had daggers strapped to him with what appeared to be seaweed. Tied to both biceps and both thighs, with the trident, he was a regular commando.

His eyes, when he finally turned away from her parents as not a threat, were an otherworldly blue with flecks of aquamarine. His eyes matched his tattoos. No, that didn’t make any sense. Someone must have matched his ink to his eyes.

From here, he might be a warrior. But the feeling, when he turned to them with gentle protectiveness, was of a knight.

Zara jolted back to the present. The dark beach, the nearby crab, the clouds rolling across the starlit sky. She was safe. It was over. She had survived.

Her heart still thundered, all out of rhythm, and sweat beaded up on her body, chilled by the night breeze.

Zara rolled over and hugged her elbows, relishing the grit of sand.

That day in the sacred island cave had stuck in Zara’s chest as a starkly violent, bloody trauma she had survived because Elan had saved her.

She had not saved herself. She had not channeled some mysterious power.

She had been completely at her father’s mercy. Terrified and terrorized. Her noble intentions to save Milly had been smashed by his brutal force.

She should have waited for the police. She should have run the instant her father roared awake. She could not have defeated him. To this day, she could not defeat her father.

He was more powerful. More ruthless. More violent.

So were the undersea warriors. Their assault a year ago had amplified the first trauma tenfold. It had shattered her belief only her father was capable of violence. Assaults could come from anyone. At any time. And Elan could not save her.

How could she save herself?

Could she afford not to try?

Zara sat up, removed her tennis shoes and socks, and walked barefoot across the moonlit shore. The ocean waves caressed her all-too-human toes.

It was the first time she’d touched the ocean since she’d climbed out a year ago. She wiggled her toes and walked deeper. Clear water and silky sand fluttered as she walked into the waves, bracing for wave after wave endlessly assaulting the shore.

This was dumb. She wasn’t capable. If she’d had special powers, they already would have revealed themselves.

She took another step deeper. A sneaker wave shoved her back, tossing her off balance. She retreated to the shallows.

This was impossible.

On dry land, she knew her enemies. Police enforced the laws. Her family — whether her aunt who had saved her and Milly as children, or Vaw Vaw’s family, or the extended Azores community — cared.

Under the water, lawless warriors followed an ancient honor code. She didn’t know who to trust. Everyone was a potential enemy.

Zara strode for the shore, flopped down next to her abandoned shoes, and buried her feet in the warm, dry sand. Piling it high, she anchored herself.

Having fighting powers was a dream. A fantasy. She wanted it to be possible, but she couldn’t un-live the horrors of that long-ago night. She couldn’t stand up to her parents if they appeared in front of her right now. She couldn’t save Zain or Elan. She couldn’t rewrite history to save herself.

She hugged her knees.

Elan’s powerful figure emerged from the sea, Zain boosted gently in his arms. Her heart eased. They were alive.

Zara stood and grabbed her tennis shoes and socks.

Milly picked them up at the appointed time. The ride home was wet and quiet and they made her car smell like sea water.

At home, Zara intended to follow Milly up the stairs to her bed, but hesitated on the bottom step.

Elan moved.

“Do not run.” He put one hand on the railing, blocking the stairs. “You are stronger than this.”

His hot breath made shivers travel up the back of her neck and a flowering sensation blossom between her legs. His masculine scent of salt and male hooked her libido and squeezed.

But it was dangerous.

“Sometimes the only choice is to run,” she whispered.

“You have another choice.”

“How can I defeat your warriors if you failed?”

The dark shadows deepened around his eyes.

Reality wasn’t what he needed right now, clearly. She was still confused in her heart and he was beyond exhausted. He needed kindness, and anyway, his faith in her was like a sweet wish that made her chest ache even as she denied its possibility.

She linked her arm in his and led him to the couch. “Come and sleep.”

Even though they had already had sex once here, the living room couch felt more exposed and therefore less likely to end in a repeat. As much as she craved sex, at this point, it would only confuse her tangled feelings more.

She tugged him down. He obediently stretched his imposing form, and then he tugged her. She tumbled into his arms. He held her tightly, resting his chin on her head.

Curving into his warm, protective arms felt too good.

She protested. “Let me go.”

“Please. A short time.” His muscles tensed and relaxed. “I dreamed of this every night for a year.”

Her, too.

Her defenses eased. His large palms squeezed her biceps and shoulders and thighs, raising delicious anticipation that tossed over her earlier intention to only sleep.

And then his limbs weighted down and his breathing slowed, collapsing in as though he were drugged.

Staying in his arms tested her self-control. The temptation to run her fingers over his hard abs and down to the thick length of his cock pressed against her softness was almost unbearable. She wiggled to get free.

He sucked in a breath and squeezed her tighter.

She stopped. Maybe it was okay to stay for a few minutes…

Zara awoke to stark morning light.

Elan’s breath sighed gently against her neck in the slow, long rhythm of deep sleep. In the night, his wide hand had reached down to cup her mons and the other gently kneaded her breast.

Her body flooded with hot desire.

Waking him would be cruel. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. And time already moved differently under the water, with a single hour lasting nearly a day and a week lasting almost a month.

Zain whimpered in the bathroom.

Her baby needed her!

Zara eased out of Elan’s unconscious embrace, tugged her disheveled, day-old clothes into place, and checked on her son.

He was sitting upright in the tub, his fins splayed, and the seaweed floating in a pool of liquid that hadn’t existed the night before. But she hadn’t heard the water flowing into the tub.

“You drank a lot of sea water, didn’t you?” She teased her serious little boy, who stared at her with a miniature version of her own dark brown eyes flecked with Elan’s aquamarine. “You know what? This seaweed has gotten stinky. Let’s get rid of it and give you a bath.”

He made no protest as she drained the tub, dragged the seaweed outside, and then filled the bath with fresh water and scrubbed Zain with no-tears baby soap.

She’d worried this impulse purchase would never come in handy. And now, she was using it.

This was her dream.

Zain splashed in the water, not seeming to mind the bubbles at all, and came out smelling like orange sherbet and clean baby. She dried him in a fluffy towel and carried him outside.

Twenty minutes later, when she was serving applesauce and leftover mashed stew from Vaw Vaw, it suddenly struck her that she’d carried Zain outside. He hadn’t made a peep.

Progress! What had changed?

She’d given him the bath, absentminded, and had been thinking that everything would work out. She’d felt satisfied. Content.

Not afraid.

Elan was right.

When she defeated her fears, she would become a whole person.

And then she would once more embrace love.

The key was Zain. In only three days Zain had gone from frantic rejection to calm acceptance. Babies really were very resilient.

He was fighting his hardest to become a family. Elan, too. Why couldn’t she?

A tickle in her throat warned her that she was about to get very emotional. Like magic, his little mouth turned upside down and his eyes filled with baby tears.

Uh oh.

“Don’t you cry,” she choked, as much to herself as to him. “These are happy tears. Don’t cry!”

Elan wandered out from the house scratching the back of his head and yawning. New denim shorts hung low on his taut hips. He saw them and sobered. “What is this disaster?”

“It’s just like you said.” She sniffed hard, but tears sprang to the backs of her eyes and spilled right over her cheeks. “We really are connected. Me and Zain.”

Zain opened his mouth and wailed.

She hugged her baby and rocked him. He didn’t protest, just sobbed on her shoulder.

Elan stared at the two of them, the shadows dark under his eyes.

But this was how it felt to heal a broken heart. Sometimes, it set incorrectly and had to be re-broken. The agony of these past days? She’d had to relive her darkest fears.

Now, for the first time, she knew hope.

Milly burst in from her morning classes and stopped abruptly. “Oh, wow. You already heard.”

Zara sniffed, wiping tears from her face, and looked over her shoulder at her sister. “Heard what?”

“Our parents.” Milly made her hands into fists. “They’re back.”

“I will need my trident,” Elan announced to the Border and Immigration later that week. “Release it. Now.”

Zara stiffened beside him in the hard chair. Zain wiggled in her arms.

Since the moment she’d heard her parents were near, she had kept Zain closer, and this change had calmed her heart. Sad or happy, through all his moods, she steadfastly held him. Their cathartic cry together had healed her surface fears. Now she fought primal dangers.

Elan would protect her. Against her parents, he would not fail.

The agents hemmed awkwardly. “We still have questions about it, Mr. Elan.”

“Such as?”

“Its construction and lethality.”

“My trident has been passed down through three generations, since my great grandfather’s was broken in the Seven City’s war. It was grown in the sub-Arctic coral fields and finished in volcanic vents.”

“Grown?” the agent repeated.

“Its lethality depends on the skill of the warrior. When going to war, it is tipped in poison from what you call ‘blue dragons.’ These are nudibranchs that float on the surface of the ocean amassing barbs from other poisonous creatures such as jellyfish and your man o’ wars.”

The agent winced. “We’d avoid poison barbs in our general populace.”

“I do not intend to prepare it for war. Only for defense.” He darkened. “Unless Zara’s parents declare first.”

The agent didn’t look convinced.

Zara cleared her throat. “It’s his property. You don’t have any laws about tridents.”

“We don’t allow exotic weapons without the proper permit. Especially if you intend to use it.”

“He won’t,” Zara said, at the same time Elan assured them, “If it is necessary, I will use it.”

She clenched her teeth.

The agency was unwilling to compromise or release his trident. They were unwilling to grant emergency passports. They were unwilling to offer police patrols.

“Inform us right away if you are contacted by your parents,” the agents told her firmly.

“By then it will be too late!” She flared with her former glory. “You need to act now. Where are Elan and Zain’s passports?”

“Please be calm, Ms. Robertson.”

“I will calm down once we’re all on an airplane bound for California!”

The agent smiled dryly; the expression did not reach his tired eyes. “I, too, look forward to that day.”

In the end, they did not return Elan’s trident or produce passports.

Zara fumed as they exited the historic colonial building that afternoon. “These people have no idea what we’re up against. They’re going to jerk us around until we’re hurt or dead.”

He lengthened his stride to keep up with her quick steps. “I will protect us.”

“You don’t know what my parents are capable of.” She scowled back at the shuttered brick offices. “They’re not the kind of people who talk things out.”

“I have daggers hidden in the reef.”

She looked at him. A measure of respect entered her gaze, and his chest puffed in response. “Thank you for not confessing that in the offices.”

“I would not.”

She raised a brow. “Law-abiding Elan wouldn’t lie to authority.”

“They asked about weapons I had brought onto the land. My daggers are under the water.”

Her lips quirked. “Never change.”

“That is something I cannot promise.”

They traveled directly to the shoreline.

“Make it fast,” she told Elan.

He stepped out of his slacks and button-up shirt and strode naked down the shore. The humans at this hour still formed noticeable crowds. He moved quickly to avoid prolonging their offense.

Zain wiggled to go too, but Zara held him tight, immune to his cries.

“Shhh.” She bounced him on her hip and walked along the sand. He strained for the crashing waves. “Maybe later. Okay? Your father will be back right away. He’s not abandoning us on the shore. Shhh.”

Elan leaped into the surf and dove, shifting as the water closed over his head. The shore-churned sand dusted up from his powerful kicks. He flew across the volcanic rock and entered the vibrant, lava-formed reef.

Zara would love it here.

After she’d drunk the elixir and transformed, her wide eyes had been mesmerized by colorful parrot fish swirling, fan and brain coral spiraling, and the pulse of life and the soul-song of the water creatures.

He kicked hard, plunging through the thermoclines to deeper water. There, he located the small cave guardian’s hole where he had stashed his daggers. The cave guardian’s harsh song buzzed in a terrible cacophony. Cave guardians were easily identifiable by their ear-offending noise.

He called out to the cave guardian. His words rumbled in his chest and the small creature crawled from its safe fissure, its eight, long legs curling around and dragging his leather-wrapped daggers.

“Thank you, noble guardian,” he told it.

The creature’s song changed to a happy screech, and it twirled, shifting colors to peaceful green and back to excited red spots.

Elan tied on the weapons — biceps and thighs just above the knee — and tested his blades. The sharp points were well-honed for deadly combat.

Last time, he’d defeated Zara’s parents with his bare hands. If they threatened her, he would not hesitate to escalate to blades.

The small cave guardian’s song changed to a questioning call. An unfamiliar predator had entered the area. Elan turned and scanned the ocean, simultaneously melting backward against the reef. Strange noises did fill the water. Almost like warriors talking…

Warriors talking!

Elan rotated and dove. Beneath him the currents converged into an echo point. He hung silently in the strangely calm pocket of water. Any noise he made would project outward as clearly as the sounds came in.

Ghostly words — Some signs … exile… catch them, we will execute any traitors to the covenant… — floated across the still echo point. So faint. He wanted to doubt his hearing.

But that would be folly.

They had come.

He knew they would.

Danger drew nearer. On land, Zara’s parents. Under the water, his city’s vengeful warriors.

Their voices faded away. He would have to be more careful. No allowing Zara and Zain into the ocean until he had verified a location was safe.

Elan kicked to the surface. His daggers never felt heavier — and more needed — than when he climbed out.

Zara frowned. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Yet.

With vigilance, he would make his answer true. He would never fail her again.

Elan emerged from the ocean with a look Zara knew meant danger. When she pressed him, he said it was nothing.

Okay. He took her parents’ threat seriously. That was reassuring.

“It’s my fault,” Milly said miserably during a quiet moment at dinner.

They’d returned to Vaw Vaw’s all week. She’d insisted, and Zara had thought it might be good for Zain to be surrounded by other children. Now, she wanted the company. Vaw Vaw was the only stranger she trusted with Zain, and the more witnesses, the safer everyone was from her parents.

“All my fault,” Milly continued. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“Don’t torture yourself like this.”

“Zara, you don’t know—”

“I do know,” she insisted, and Milly stopped, surprised. She grasped Milly’s too-cold hands. “You were still recovering from the kidnapping and brainwashing. How could you give an effective testimony?”

She frowned. “No, Zara—”

“I didn’t mean to make you face our parents all alone. I was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry!”

“I just wish, when Dad skipped bail, they would have stayed gone.”

Milly’s lips folded together.

Zara picked up her spoon and took a comforting bite of rosemary chicken stew.

Her dark time had started after she’d been forced to the surface, but Milly’s dark time had been the year Zara had been missing. Still recovering from her parents’ kidnapping and then desperate without her sister, she’d been unable to give proper evidence to the prosecutors. It was Zara’s fault for not being there for Milly, again. Their parents had then sailed off in their yacht without serving even the token amount of jail time their father had been sentenced. Their mother had been declared a completely innocent victim and not charged at all.

Not protecting her sister in her hour of need still gave her nightmares.

And now the nightmares had come to life. Her parents were back.

One of the uncles chimed in. “Your father is stupid for returning here. He will be jailed for a long time for skipping his sentence.”

“They have to catch him first,” Zara returned.

He tsked and waved his hand. “Negativity.”

“He has a lot of friends in these islands.”

“He cannot hide,” the uncle said. “We will find him.”

It was a sweet thing to say, and hugely over-confident. Zara smiled tightly and sipped her small tumbler of homemade blackberry wine.

Elan caught her eye. His medium-length blue shirt concealed the dangerous bulges at his biceps.

He had once grabbed her father by the throat and thrown him across a cavern.

The urgent panic bubbling under her skin lessened.

He leaned closer to her, filling her senses with his salt masculine scent. “You will feel better once you harness your power into a weapon.”

“It wouldn’t work above water anyway.”

“They are in a boat, yes? It is easy to go from a boat into water.”

“Shifting isn’t easy or else Zain would already be able to do it.”

“He is young.”

“That means he’s adaptable. It should be easier for him.”

A cry arose on their other side of the room. Vaw Vaw had been once again holding Zain. A spoonful of mashed stew dribbled from his mouth.

“His fins!” one of the younger children cried, pointing at Zain. “They’re gone!”

Zara jumped out of her seat and raced to him. He slobbered, startled by the attention.

Where his fins once were, now wiggled chubby, stubby baby feet.

He had shifted. Right into a normal, human baby boy.

“Now we can walk him!” the children celebrated.

“After dinner my babies. After the dinner.”

Elan murmured in Zara’s ear. “It requires practice. But all you truly need is will.”

She bunched her hands into fists.

She couldn’t defeat her parents. She couldn’t defeat his warriors. She couldn’t run away on land. She couldn’t escape into the water.

They were backing her into a corner. Her only choice was to turn, keep the wall at her back, and fight.

“We’ll go to the ocean,” she said through gritted teeth.

He looked surprised. Then, he darkened. “No.”

Huh? But he’d been trying to get her in the water since the beginning.

She argued with him on the way out to the car that night, while Zain slumped over his shoulders, asleep. “You wanted me in the water. I’m agreeing to go.”

He tapped her chest with one finger. “Your mouth says yes but your heart says no.”

She rubbed the spot viciously. Just because he could literally see into her heart via her “soul light” made her feel exposed and angry. “I know that! But this might be the only way to get over my issues.”

“Or it will not.” He eased into the back seat as usual. “We will begin on the land.”

“It doesn’t work on land.”

“You can make fins anywhere.”

“The power doesn’t work. That’s the whole point of making fins. Who cares if I have fins? The point is to make them so I can get superpowers, and those only show up under water.”

“Your heart does not know this.”

“Yes, it does.”

He eyed her as if to say, Really? You’re lying to me about a light only I can see? But he didn’t say so.

She wanted to slam the door on him, hard, but out of reverence for Zain, she closed it gently.

Inside, she hissed, “You can see my soul light or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you can see the future. I haven’t been in the water for a year. Maybe when I get in, it’s like you say, and I’ll suddenly have a reawakening.”

His voice rumbled, low and quiet. “You already said it is impossible.”

“That was then!”

The drive home was stiff, and they whispered their arguments while Milly cleared her throat about a hundred times in the driver’s seat. She dropped them off at the house. Elan went into the house to put Zain down.

She called Zara to the window. “I’m going back to the university.”

“Sorry.” Zara felt a headache coming on. She rubbed her forehead. “We’ll tone it down.”

“Oh, no. It’s not that.” Milly smiled awkwardly. Their argument certainly was driving her out of the house. “You want to talk and I want to retrieve a document on mermaids from my saved folder. It might be helpful. The computer lab is still open.”

“Okay, but we’re not going to argue anymore.”

“Take your time.”

“Don’t stay out too late.” There was a small but real possibility that the target her parents were returning to exploit wasn’t the mermen.

Milly had always been their favorite.

Zara’s hackles rose. “When I find out who’s helping them this time, they’re all going down. My parents, their friends. Everyone.”

Her sister swallowed, nodded, and wheeled off. Her taillights glowed red against the fallen darkness.

Zara returned to the house with a heavy heart.

Elan was waiting.

He’d put Zain down in the bathroom and lingered in the living room again, a dark and knowing look in his eye. With his shirt off, his glorious pecs revealed to the night, wicked blades affixed to them with tight weave. He drew her into his arms and cupped her head.

Heat sizzled through her.

She rested her hands on his forearm to keep from curling them around his waist and rubbing her feminine center against his ramrod-hard cock. “I thought we were discussing how to capture my power on land.”

“We are.” He tilted her jaw and lowered his mouth to hers. “This is how.”

She murmured her protest as Elan captured her mouth in his. “My parents…”

“Are not here now.” He burned with promise, teasing her lips with his. “And when they come, we will fight them.”

“I have never faced them directly and won.”

“You will.”

Her lashes fluttered. She clearly wanted to believe Elan, but doubts still tinged her voice. “They’ve never really been caught. And they’re so normal in front of other people. Only to me and Milly do they show their true colors.”

“Then you have the advantage because you are forewarned.”

Her expression cleared. She had never thought it a blessing she and Milly had been targeted, but Elan was right. Better to know an enemy than be blind-sided by a friend.

“Knowing didn’t help me in the past.”

“Now, you know about your true power. It will spill forth once your soul light reaches its maximum brightness. And I have watched you carefully this week, Zara. Your soul light glows when you fight Border and Immigration, hold Zain close to your heart, watch over the children at Vaw Vaw’s house, and…” He slid his hand up her smooth skin to her elbow. “When you give in to passion.”

“I am not a passionate person.”

“You are very passionate,” he corrected, and brushed feather-soft kisses across her worry-wrinkled forehead. “Passionate about justice. Passionate about your family.”

Her soul light strengthened with every word.

He tugged her into her bedroom, sat on her bed, and drew her on top of him. “Passionate with your husband.”

She rested one knee on the bed beside his waist. The other wedged between his bent knees. “I’ve been hiding. When you came with Zain, I wanted to run away. I’m not really brave.”

He cursed his earlier words. “I spoke unfairly. You were injured, Zara. Ignoring your pain dishonored your experience and I apologize.”

Her light shone even brighter.

She cupped his jaw, sweet passion darkening her brown eyes. “You were hurt, too. Worse than I was.”

“Warriors are taught how to recover from a lost battle.” He removed his knives from his thighs and folded them beneath the bed. Resting his hands on her waist, he savored her softness, and then pulled her down. “Time heals all scars.”

She settled on his knee. The feel of so much softness on his thigh sent a hot pulse of awareness to his cock. She tugged his shirt up. The sleeves caught on his dagger pommels, so he removed the daggers on his biceps as well, wrapping the blades securely and resting them with the others behind his feet.

She stroked his abdomen.

He tightened, flexing in sharp relief.

She palmed muscles lit by the hall light filtering into the bedroom and traced his aquamarine tattoos. Splaying her palm across his heart, she looked up. “Even the scars inside?”

“Those scars are permanent.”

Lost honor could never be recaptured. His mistakes could never be atoned. Warriors sacrificed everything — home, love, life — to avoid dishonor.

Zara in his arms was worth any dishonor. Her presence calmed him.

As though she knew the turn of his thoughts, her expression turned fierce. “You didn’t do anything really wrong.”

He had done many things really wrong. “It does not matter.”

“It does matter.”

“I would do it all again to bring me to you.” He slid his hands up her shirt, squeezing her shoulder blades to press her breasts against him. “Everything.”

Her eyes closed. She tilted her mouth to accept him.

He took her mouth with his. She tasted like the dinner’s spicy chicken soup and water and femininity. His Zara. Her soul light flared. She rested her hands on his shoulders, scooting closer to the hardening manhood thrusting from his crotch.

He kissed down her jaw to her slender neck. She’d once worried about her looks. She wasn’t slender in comparison to other females, but he thought her neck was slender, graceful like the curve of a crescent moon. He teased it with gentle teeth.

She moaned and tilted her head to give him better access.

Her bare skin tasted salty and sweet. He tongued down the delicate column to where it met her collar. Tugging off her fluffy peasant shirt and silk bra revealed plump handfuls of creamy breasts. He feasted on her dark aureoles.

She dug her fingers into his back, pulling him closer.

His cock pulsed with heat.

He had wanted her for so long. Wanted her, craved her. Strong and beautiful, like this. Together, they would be healed.

She pushed him back.

A rejection? He stopped, holding her steady.

But no.

She smiled at him with sinful flash of white teeth and kissed his mouth, her tongue tangling with his, her fingers twining in his hair. She was hotter than a furnace and enjoyed commanding his passion. His cock throbbed.

He squeezed her derriere through the shorts, needing her powerful like this. Taking the lead, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

The first time she had kissed him and taken control, he had been surprised. Trainers focused on generalities — that a warrior must honor and respect his bride, bring his bride to pleasure, and his duties to her in the heart chamber must be performed as honorably as any duties in war.

But knowing her desire, her love, burned as hot as his own had deeply reassured him on a level he could never have imagined. Not only did he find her endlessly fascinating and hunger for her, but she also felt intense, uncontrollable cravings for him.

On the land, once more, her commanding kiss was deeply reassuring.

She drizzled hot nips down his jaw and across his chest, teasing his nipples with her tongue, and kissing lower, tasting the rippling muscles of his chest. He leaned back on his elbows, giving her what they both craved. She teased the band of his shorts. He groaned and thrust, his hard cock scraping the inner fabric of the damp denim.

With a pleased smile, she unzipped and opened his shorts, revealing his cock. Cool breeze wafted across his sensitive skin and heat pulsed in him. He sucked in a breath. A white pearl of his desire emerged on the tip.

Her gaze flicked to him for a moment, just enough to connect and show she knew exactly what she was doing. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and curled the wet fingertips around his cock. Pleasure vibrated in his core. Her wet, hot touch felt so good. He thrust into her slick grip, pleasure building with each thrust.

Another glance — testing him for recognition of their familiar position — and she took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue over his cock.

His whole body tightened. Pleasure peaked. He groaned and gripped her hair as his cock threatened to unload in her mouth. “Zara.”

She smiled around his cock, knowing exactly what she was doing to him and liking it. Her soul light flared, intensely bright. She had no doubts, no fears. She was herself, doing what she wanted, sharing her desires with him. They were partners. Friends. Lovers.

Husband and wife.

He needed to give this soul-tingling pleasure to her too.

He curled his abdomen over her, grabbed her waist, and lifted. She squeaked. He rotated her in the air, lay back, and settled her on top of him on the bed, now facing away from him toward the door. Tugging off her shorts and panties and tossing them off the bed, he revealed her beautiful coral folds.

She rested her weight on her knees, pushing into the bed deeply on either side of his shoulders, and lifted up. Resting her forehead against his thigh, she looked between their naked bodies to catch his eyes.

He lifted his brows in a silent question. Why had she stopped?

Her lips curved even though she was upside down to him. “I’m impressed you could do that. I’m not exactly light.”

“You are not heavy.”

She snorted. “Please.”

“It is truth.” He placed soft, worshipful kisses on her trembling thighs. Above the water, he felt enveloped by her weight. The pressure of her body equaled the depth of her trust. “This is better.”

She looked surprised, then thoughtful, as though remembering something. And then she dismissed her thought with another snort. “You just don’t remember.”

“Perhaps.”

Perhaps he valued her more sharply having loved her once and lost her. Or perhaps they had both matured in their separation and heartbreak, and now their experiences were richer and more poignant.

Whatever the reason, he nuzzled into her soft skin, teasing her attractive slickness. She gasped. He delved into her folds and rediscovered the sensual places she most liked stroked, sucked, and licked. Her exquisite pleasure cries muffled as she tried to keep her hot mouth around his thickened cock.

She suddenly gripped the sheets and shuddered. Release whipped through her body, silent yet powerful. She collapsed and gasped for breath.

So, he could bring her to the peak of pleasure with only his tongue. His chest swelled with rightness. Knowing he still had this precious skill healed another part of his injured heart.

Zara wiggled free of his grasp and sat beside his torso, on her knees, and rotated to face him. He rolled upright to face her. His cock pulsed hard as granite, ready.

Her soul light shone like a beacon. Was it enough to make her fins? Right now, he didn’t care. He loved her unconditionally. Defenses would come later. She had torn all his down and made him stronger inside with her mouth, with her acceptance, and with her hungry tongue.

Now, Zara straddled him, thumping one knee on each side of his waist. His cock pressed her silky wet cleft. He pulsed, needing to thrust inside.

She curled her arms around the back of his neck and undulated.

He steadied her, his fingers sinking into the perfect grip on her hip bones. “Zara?”

“I want you.” She kissed his mouth, stoking his hunger even higher, and positioned her tight entrance against the head of his throbbing cock. “In.”

He steadied her. She glided onto him, fitting them together as one, gripping him inside and out. His cock filled her taut channel completely. It felt like coming home.

She sucked in a trembling breath and sighed her satisfaction. Resting her forehead against his, she nuzzled him softly. “You are the only male I have ever wanted. I never forgot you for a moment.”

He struggled not to release immediately, drowning her in his seed.

“Never leave me again.”

His voice cracked. “Never.”

She stamped his lips with hers and then rocked against him, closing her eyes and moaning. Her dark pearled nipples stroked his chest. Her wet sheath gripped his shaft and her cleft ground against the turgid base of his cock.

She was so beautiful, so fiery, so gorgeous.

So passionate.

He gripped her derriere, filling his palms with her sweet bounty. She rolled back her head, giving in to her undulating thrusts. He sucked on the exposed flesh, seeking to bring her to greater passion. Her channel gripped his shaft and her pleasure-filled moans filled his ears. He thrust deeper into her willing softness. Faster, tighter, and so deliciously hot.

She gasped. “Elan!” Dug her nails into his back. “Yes!”

He slammed in, coated himself in her, and lost all control. She was his, and he was hers. Forever.

She gasped. Her channel clenched his cock. Her blissful expression shattered into an endless orgasm.

Hers shoved him over the edge. His balls clenched. White-hot pleasure burst from his cock and he filled her with his trembling release.

They came down together, in each other’s arms.

She stroked his shoulders gently. He squeezed her tight. If this moment could only last for the rest of his life, he would know peace.

Something thumped in the living room.

She stiffened, and he rose to full alert.

The world would not give them peace. His wish was foolish.

They disentangled and scrambled off the bed. He bolted for the living room naked. Zara’s fearful cry, “Zain?” echoed behind him.

Zara raced after Elan, clutching her clothes to her chest.

How could she have been so stupid?

She knew not to underestimate her parents. If they returned, they wanted something, and when they wanted something of hers or Milly’s, they took it. Returning a week after Zain and Elan emerged from the ocean? The timing was no coincidence.

Elan’s warrior gaze coolly swept the empty living room.

Zara raced past him to the bathroom.

Baby Zain slept peacefully in the dry bathtub, a blue and yellow duckies blanket wrapped around his white onesie. His little mouth hung open and a very human snore emerged from his baby lips.

Her terror drained out of her. She rested her forehead on the door frame.

Behind her, Elan stalked through the house. The quiet pad of his feet announced he was going upstairs, and his weight creaked the old floorboards as he thoroughly examined every room for intruders.

Maybe she was over-reacting. Maybe it was a coincidence her parents returned now. Her father had lots of friends and partners in the area.

The scent of sex clung to her skin. She tidied herself quietly in the sink and pulled on her old clothes.

Elan returned to her side. He was still naked — and troubled. “There are no defenses in this house.”

His castle closed up to become impenetrable when it was attacked. In comparison, yes, her house was definitely lacking.

“Close the windows,” she said. They were usually left open for refreshing breezes; spring humidity could get stuffy and hot. “Make sure everything’s locked.”

“I will rest on the couch tonight.”

“Sure.” She’d sleep on the floor of Zain’s bathroom. “Put on some pants.”

He looked down at his nude form. The corner of his mouth turned up, a pleased smile remembering what they had just shared.

Her feminine center tingled.

She shooed him out and whispered. “Get dressed.”

With a stolen kiss on the back of her neck, flushing her tingling to full-blown throbbing, he retreated.

No time for tingling. She rubbed her neck and set about securing the house.

They were locking the final window when Milly’s car raced to her usual spot in the back. Her headlights flashed, and she honked without regard for the neighbors.

Zara’s heart thudded.

She unlocked the back door and ran out in her flip-flops, Elan right behind her.

Milly cut the engine and got out, her headlights still on. “Is everything okay?”

“Here? Yes.” Zara felt Elan’s warm, shirtless presence at her back. “Is everything okay with you?”

“Yes.” Milly’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, thank goodness. You don’t have a cell phone and I got a call from the police. Someone who looked like our mother hired a locksmith to have keys made to our front door.”

A sick feeling oozed into Zara’s stomach. A dangerous twinge of knowing.

Even though she had just checked, she turned and sprinted back into the house. Through the kitchen, the living room, to the bathroom. Elan and Milly crowded behind her.

The duckies blanket in the tub was empty.

Her world tilted. She grabbed the wall for balance. Her stomach bolted for her throat.

Elan turned abruptly and disappeared.

“Where’s Zain?” Milly asked.

“He was right here.” Zara wheeled, stumbling past her sister. The front door hung open and Elan raced across the front gravel.

A car engine started on the main road. Tires squealed as the engine revved. A car fishtailed away, its lights flicking on after it was already halfway down their hill. Elan raced after the car as it rapidly left him behind.

“My car! Go!” Milly shouted, tugging Zara.

She ran after Milly and crashed into the passenger’s seat. Elan tumbled into the back seat. Zara fumbled with the door. It wouldn’t close. The seatbelt was caught. She yanked it out and slammed the door.

Milly started the engine, messed with her cell phone, and shouted, “Seatbelts! Seatbelts!”

“Drive!” Zara swore through shaky tears. “They’re getting away!”

“Not until you put on your seatbelt!”

She fumbled with the fastening. The lights of the other car disappeared around the hill. She sobbed. “Milly!”

Elan reached forward and snapped Zara’s belt into place. “Go.”

Milly threw her cell phone at Zara and wheeled out to the road. She white-knuckled the steering wheel.

The other car had disappeared.

Zara strained for taillights. The moon cast a small glow between patches of black and gray clouds, and the roads were quiet at this time of night; the island had a population of about fourteen thousand, and most of them spent late evenings with their families.

She squinted into the patchy darkness. “Did you call the police?”

Milly shook her head tightly.

Zara checked the phone and pressed the call button. Nothing happened. “I can’t dial.”

“That happens when the battery’s low.”

“Where’s your charger?”

“Not with me.”

She wanted to scream. “Why did you wait for seatbelts? If they get away, we’ll lose—”

A small, furry creature dashed in front of the wheels.

Milly slammed on the brakes.

The sedan skidded, slid out, and stopped on the edge of the sharp ditch. It rocked back and forth on its wheels. Burnt rubber oiled the night.

Milly stared at Zara. “That would have been someone’s head through the windshield.”

Zara’s heart couldn’t beat any faster and her hands couldn’t shake any more. “Okay. I get it. Drive.”

Milly returned to the correct lane and accelerated to normal speeds. At the first stop sign, she guessed. Distant taillights flashed on a barely visible road leading toward an exterior harbor.

Anxiety squeezed Zara’s belly in a fist. “Is that them?”

“We’ll find out.” Milly’s voice was flat as she drove.

“Your phone’s still not working,” Zara moaned, unable to do anything else.

Elan remained silent in the back seat.

“Try restarting.”

The taillights turned onto a private marina. Yes. They were chasing the right car.

Milly reached the turn a few minutes later and bumped over the entrance. She slowed to check each parked car. Zara divided her time between searching for suspicious shadows and watching Milly’s phone cycle power.

On the dock, a medium-sized boat suddenly powered on.

“There!” Zara pointed. “That must be our parents’ yacht.”

Milly slowed to make the turn.

Elan unsnapped his seat belt and exited the moving car.

Milly slammed on the brakes, rocking the car on its tires. Zara unsnapped her belt and climbed out. She dropped Milly’s phone on the seat.

“Zara!” Milly called. “Wait!”

“Call the police!”

Zara raced to the dock, easily catching Elan and passing him. She wasn’t a great runner, especially in flip flops, but she had lived her entire life on land.

She reached the end of the dock. The yacht was already chortling away, hundreds of feet, heading for the marina exit.

Zain!

She pulled off her flip-flops. The dark water reflected patches of moonlight, opaque and impenetrable.

Elan huffed down the dock behind her.

She turned to him. No time for fear. No time for doubts. “Can you catch that boat?”

“Yes.” He reached the end and jumped.

She jumped behind him.

The water slammed into her, cold and black. Shock squeezed her lungs and stole her breath. She struggled in her clothes. Seawater sucked into her lungs and choked her. Her throat closed and her eyes watered.

Drowning! She was drowning!

A hand grabbed her elbow and tugged her through the black water, fast and sure, like a jet ski.

She flailed.

The sea water, stunning at first, pooled in her lungs. It was a heavy, cold, familiar weight. On her back, slits opened to the chill, transforming her air-breathing lungs into water-breathing gills. The temperature warmed to a familiar slippery sensation as her skin shifted from human to mer.

She was not drowning.

Zara opened her eyes.

The night ocean flared to life as if someone had flipped on stadium lights.

Darkness means nothing under the water.

She could see miles in every direction. Marina fish floated in the light, each glowing with their own inner lights, and making small notes like the chime of a xylophone.

Their soul lights.

Elan could see these in humans and mer. She could only sense them in animals as a sort of combined light-sound.

The fish tinkled as they munched plankton, which glowed like stardust sprinkled into layers on the ocean “breezes.” Coral came alive with music and lights as each resident gave off its own unique musical aura.

Larger wrasse darted into deeper water, bellowing their unique song, and beneath them, the ground sloped down to reveal the whole shape of the ocean. Manta rays the size of Milly’s sedan flew like magic carpets in a V-formation, and farther out, true giants — mako sharks, the squiggly arms of large squids, and even baleen whales — soared.

It was beautiful and freeing, like flying.

Just as she remembered.

Elan gripped her forearm. He was still wearing his denim shorts; his ankles now terminated in large fins that he kicked powerfully, propelling them after the yacht.

He had not left her behind.

Even though she couldn’t make her fins and feared her parents, he understood. She needed to save Zain.

The motor growled with unnatural, mechanical screeches. Propeller blade chewed the surf. Elan flew under the yacht, examining it like an unfamiliar fish. “How do we defeat this machine?”

“On the deck we can shut off the engine.”

Her voice sounded weird under water. Rather than using her mouth, her words vibrated deep inside. And they weren’t exactly words, either. She heard his communication in the same place — in an unused chest cavity somewhere beneath her heart.

“There’s a ladder,” she recalled. “On the left side.”

He veered that direction. They surfaced. Waves rolled and smashed into her, stunning her as her body fought to shift from breathing water to breathing air. She choked helplessly.

The ladder bounced in and out of Elan’s reach.

She dragged helplessly behind him. If one of his arms wasn’t full of her dead weight, he might have a chance. And she couldn’t tell him to let her go because she couldn’t shift to speak.

Rather than give up on her, Elan dropped beneath the surface to try a different attack.

On the bow, the anchor chain dragged. Her parents had taken off so quickly they’d done an improper job of raising it. And why had they used an anchor, anyway? They’d been tied up to a dock.

But now, regardless of the reasons, the anchor was being dragged out of the water.

Elan changed direction and caught the ascending anchor chain. His webbed fingers hooked into the thick metal rungs. The anchor itself was the picture-book variety; her parents had always been more interested in style than function. He shifted to human feet and rested on the flat bar. It wasn’t big enough for her to stand on the bars too. They rose out of the water. The full force of gravity dragged her waterlogged body down.

He gripped her around the waist and pulled her tight to his side, his biceps bulging with inhuman strength.

He really was an indomitable warrior.

She choked out the sea water and sucked in gasps of air. Fully shifting back to human form was rough. It felt a little like she’d drowned. Her throat and lungs clenched. Cold ocean sprayed against her flapping, freezing clothes.

The anchor chain clicked into a narrow portal. The bow curved outward, so they dangled in the air. Elan would have a hard time reaching the deck.

She forced her question around chattering teeth. “Can you reach the deck?”

He tested his reach, balancing with inhuman strength against the roll and bounce of the anchor. “No. We will try the ladder again.”

“Wait.” He couldn’t reach … but she could. “Boost me.”

“Zara.” He held her tight against his warm body. “You will be alone.”

She knew that.

“I will find another way.”

“Zain could be hurt.” She gripped him in terror. “Boost me up there. I can do this.”

He gripped the anchor chain in one hand. As though he felt her terror and knew she was lying, he lowered his voice with promise. “You are powerful. A warrior. You will fight them and win.”

His words were always exactly what she needed to hear.

“I’m ready.”

He timed the roll of the ship and pushed her up over the thick lip of the deck. Her elbows landed on the edge and she almost slid off backward. He cupped her swinging feet and pushed.

She wiggled forward and got her knee over the ledge, then rolled the rest of the way over and thudded on her back onto the deck.

The boat looked worse than she remembered. Dingy lights crackled with disrepair. A broken mini fridge hung open next to her head as if someone had meant to throw it off the deck but missed; it had scratched the deck and dented the railing. Loose black tarpaulin obscured some chunk of machinery at her feet. She had landed in its shadow and she laid there like a lump, disguised, until she got up the courage to move.

She would save Zain. Her parents would not win.

Elan grunted. Something scraped the bow, thudding just below the ledge. Then, a splash.

Zara crawled to the edge and looked over. Elan was no longer there. He had tried to leap after her and missed.

She faced her parents alone.

Zara got to her knees and peeked around the busted mini fridge.

Sick, dark feelings churned in her belly, heavier than the seawater.

The deck curved around a peeling cabin and opened up to a trashed sun deck. A single light buzzed on the corner of the cabin.

She clung to the shadow and crawled forward.

Conversation on the sun deck made her freeze.

This was only her second time on the boat, and suppressed memories spilled forth.

Stink of the empty wine bottles. Stinging cuts. Boozy laughter.

Zara took a deep breath.

She was here for Zain. Not her childhood self. Zain.

She forced herself to rise and peer around the corner.

Her parents were standing a few feet apart in the middle of the deck. Her dad steered the big wooden wheel. A half-empty bottle rested in one loose hand.

Her mother faced him, back to Zara. She rested Zain on her hip.

He stared up at his grandmother, silent as usual.

“I found him in a bathtub.” Her mother straightened Zain’s bunny-decorated onesie. “Can you believe it? Zara has the mothering instincts of a barracuda.”

Her father grunted. “She never was too bright.”

“And so plain. Milly’s baby would have been adorable, don’t you think? Look at this child.” She tilted Zain’s unsmiling chin. “He’s better off here with us.”

“Don’t get attached.” Her father swigged from the clear bottle of liquid and coughed. “Sure he’s a merman? The feet look normal.”

“This is our grandson. He has my eyes.”

“You have to transform those feet into fins before we meet the buyer.”

Buyer?

Her parents hadn’t changed. Treating her and Milly like objects. Possessions to be used and discarded. Zara was the “stupid” one and Milly was the “attractive” one, but their value to their parents was the same.

Classic narcissistic disorder.

Thinking that made her calm.

She could handle her parents. They were dangerous narcissists. She was an adult.

Her mother pinched Zain’s bare human feet. “Make these into fins? How do you propose I do that?”

Her father’s eyes narrowed and a nasty smile curved his ugly mouth. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

This stopped now.

Zara stepped out from behind the cabin. “Give me back my son.”

Her parents startled.

In the harsh light of the single working bulb, they both looked older and more worn. Her mother’s cheeks had fallen in, giving her a toothless grimace. Her formerly fit father had puffed up like a microwaved marshmallow.

His mean smile was still the same. “Zara, I didn’t give you permission to board my boat.”

Anxiety sliced into her belly. Fight or flight.

She clenched her hands into fists. “Milly’s already called the police.”

Hopefully.

“So you can report yourself for leaving a baby in the bathtub?” Her father took another swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It was no longer the wine of her childhood; he’d switched over to fifty proof rum. “Stupidity is no defense in court.”

“I’m not stupid!”

Even though she was an adult, a college graduate, and she’d tried to fight warriors in hand-to-hand combat, one word from her father and she was a helpless little girl again.

Zain started crying.

Her mother bounced him. “Hush, Zara. You’re upsetting him.”

Powerlessness threatened her. Of course Zain was upset. They were connected.

Zara’s hands shook as hard as her voice. “Give me back my son!”

Her father made a flubbing noise. “Oh, come on. You’ve barely had him a week. He’s not really yours.”

That wasn’t her fault — but it was truth.

Her parents always knew exactly how to undermine her.

She made fists again. “Yes, he is!”

Her shrill cry made her father wince. He rubbed his head as if he had a hangover. Maybe he did; just because he was drinking with red eyes didn’t mean he wasn’t coming off a worse bender. “Stop your whining. You don’t deserve to have my grandson. He is the world’s most exotic pet.”

Pet?

She stopped shaking. “He’s not a pet. He’s a person.”

“No, he’s a million dollars, starting bid. And you owe us, Zara. You stole our Sea Opal.”

Zara’s odd calm returned. Her anger had awoken and eclipsed her fear.

These were her parents. They were terrible human beings. There was no point in getting upset. Nothing she said would ever pass through their thick fog of self-interest.

In her mother’s arms, Zain quieted as well.

“I owe you nothing,” she said to her parents. “The Sea Opal was never yours to begin with. And neither is my son. Give him back to me now and never come near us again.”

“How dare you!” Her mother hissed at Zara. “He’s ours too. You always were mean. Ungrateful, ugly Zara.”

“Yes, how can you deny your son a relationship with his grandparents?” Her father tickled Zain’s unsmiling cheek. “That’s not fair.”

Zain did not coo like an ordinary baby. He stared unblinking at his grandfather as though he saw under the smile to the real monster.

Her father frowned.

“It’s completely fair.” Zara’s calm persisted. “You’re criminals. Kidnappers, bullies, human traffickers.”

He snorted as if she’d made the funniest claims.

She persisted. “You’re already wanted for skipping out on bail. When the police catch you, you’re going away.”

Her mother flushed hotly. “Because of your lies. Your father didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The truth will come out,” he agreed, dismissing Zara completely as he navigated to open water.

Worry twinged.

How far were they going? What had happened to Elan? Were the police coming at all?

Her frustration resurfaced. “If you’re so innocent, go tell the police!”

“Why should I? We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Zara, you’ve always been a miserable, stingy girl,” her mother said factually. “Milly was much more agreeable. You’re not wanted, and you never have been.”

The old words hurt. She swallowed the shards in her throat. The calm she’d been feeling twisted into the dangerous edge of panic. Her hands started to shake again.

“Just go away,” her mother sneered. “You disgust me. I never want to see you again.”

“I’m not leaving without my son.”

“I think you are.” Her father screwed the cap on the mostly empty rum bottle and hefted it with a new look in his unbalanced eyes. “I told you to get off my ship.”

“And I told you I’m not going anywhere without my son!”

He winced and hefted the liquor bottle by the skinny neck, turning the base into a thick glass bludgeon.

“You’re wrong.” He left the wheel and took hulking steps toward her, bottle raised. “Dead wrong.”

This was the same tone he took moments before he’d tried to strangle her in the sacred island cave.

Fear crashed over her in a breathless wave. Her vision went black.

She turned and stumbled down the junk-filled corridor between the railing and the cabin. Where could she go? Where could she hide? If she ran inside, he could trap her in a room, bludgeon her to unconsciousness, and throw her overboard.

Zara hit the back railing. The white froth of the propeller churned the water.

Her father trapped her. “There’s an easy way and a hard way off this boat, Zara.”

“Not without my son.” She curled her hands around the railing.

“We’ll see about that.”

In the distance, lights flashed and sirens sounded. The police boat! They weren’t so alone after all. Confidence surged in her.

She whirled to face him. “Are you going to hit me in front of the police?”

He followed her gaze. His expression hardened.

“It’s too late.” She glared at him powerfully even though her chest and hands still shook. “They’ll throw the book at you. You’re never getting out of jail. I’ll make sure of that.”

His eyes widened, and he bared his teeth.

Fear slid through her like a knife.

He thumped the bottle on one palm, the remaining liquid splashing inside the bottle. “I should’ve done this the night your mother brought you home from the hospital.”

Her heart raced.

She backed into the railing and tried to slide away. Her shoulder hit the top of the ladder.

Her father cut her off. Fury changed his face into an unrecognizable mask. He lifted the bottle. He screamed with his crazy. “Die, Zara!”

Elan surged over the railing and smashed into her father.

Her father flew sideways. His rum bottle bounced on the wood.

Elan turned to Zara. Dripping, intent, huge in comparison to her father, and all muscle. “Are you—”

Her father roared to his feet and slammed into Elan.

They fought, struggling for the advantage. Warrior and brawler grappled on the frayed wood. But Elan had the clear advantage. He lifted her father by the thigh and shoulder and threw him into the cabin. Her father hit the edge of the bar and lay in a groaning heap.

Zara raced to the bow.

Her mother saw her and dangled Zain over the railing. “Stop!”

Zara skidded to a stop.

“Tell that monster to let my husband go or else I will drop his son!”

Powerless, helpless, sick darkness pooled in Zara’s stomach. Evil held all the cards. She held none.

But…

Wait. She started to think about this.

Elan was still with her father, but they weren’t making much noise. She thought her dad might already be defeated.

And the fall might hurt Zain. They were high up. He could hit the side of the boat, miss the bulging spray, or belly flop. Once in the water, though, Zain could transform. He knew how to swim.

He knew how to breathe.

“I’ll drop him!” Her mother’s ropey arms shook in the sleeveless tank top.

Zara sucked in a breath and looked her mother square in the crazy eyes. “Go ahead.”

“What?” Her mother curled her lip in fury. “I’m warning you. I’ll do it!”

“So do it.”

“Don’t threaten me!”

Her missing calm returned. Her parents were at the end of their rope. And they were using the last of that rope to affix their own nooses. “I’m not. We’re done here. Give me Zain now or together we’ll wait for the police.”

Her mother frowned.

Zara walked to the control panel and reduced the throttle.

Her mother screamed.

The engine slowed way down. Zara left the rest of the panels and returned to the deck. “Now we just wait for the police to arrive.”

Her mother seethed.

But she was also strangely old. Like her father, who Zara could see down the corridor was on the ground, moaning.

“You were never wanted! Ugly, stupid, weak stain on our lives. You should all just die!”

Zain started crying.

That was it.

Zara’s fury crackled. She stalked to her mother. “Give. Me. Back. My. Son!”

Her mother stared.

She held out her hands. Zain reached for her.

Her mother twisted to hold the baby even farther over the side of the yacht. “You listen to me—”

“No, you give him back right now or I’ll push you both overboard and let the ocean sort you out.”

Her mother frowned. “You’re sick.”

“You forget. Zain and I can both breathe underwater. We’re half mer. He’s immune to drowning.” She glared at her mother with her full force. “How about you?”

“Mer monster.” Her mother released him to Zara’s arms with disgust.

“Whose fault is that?” Zara took her son. “Anyway, if you’re what ‘normal’ looks like, I’m so glad to be a monster.”

Her mother stared at Zara like she didn’t know her.

She didn’t.

Zara had fought her and won.

Zain’s arms tightened around her neck. Zara rocked her baby gently, soaking his onesie against her freezing wet clothes. Blanket, she needed a blanket. But despite the cold, he didn’t let go.

Elan dragged her father down the obstacle course between the corridor and cabin. He dumped her father in a lump beside her mother.

The lights and sirens of the police boat blared across the dark night.

Her mother hugged her elbows. “Okay. You got your way. Now, leave us alone.”

Zara leaned against Elan. “We’ll get off when we’re ready.”

“You owe us. For everything. We gave you the ability to breathe underwater.” Her mother cleverly talked herself into a new reality where she was the victim and Zara the aggressor. “If it wasn’t for us, you two never would have met. Your son wouldn’t exist. All we wanted to do was visit with our grandson. Would you deny us even that small happiness?”

“Tell the police,” Zara said flatly, hugging her baby to her chest as the lights grew brighter and the ships pulled up alongside. “Maybe one of them cares.”

Her mother’s mouth flapped. In the face of Zara’s disinterest, her toxicity lost its potency.

The police took possession of the yacht and booked her parents.

Milly met them at the dock, worried stiff and fiercely frightened.

Her mother screamed at her for being ungrateful. She turned bright red. The police stopped that and forced the criminals into the police car. Everyone drove to the central offices to give statements.

It was a very late night.

This time the charges would be extensive. Kidnapping, breaking and entering, assault. And this time, the charges would stick.

Zara would ensure it.

Dawn was just tinting the sky pink when they returned to their house. She curled with her back against Elan in her bed and Zain passed out against her chest.

Her son had reached for her.

The memory of his small arms tightening around her neck kept her awake with happiness. Finally, their rift had healed.

Bullies like her parents used intimidation and fear. She’d felt so sick and powerless when her mother threatened to drop Zain … and then she’d realized there was nothing to fear. Her mother’s threat was empty. Zara had called her mother’s bluff and won.

A new stirring of power moved within her.

If she could win against her parents, she could win against any fears.

Even against the warriors who had forced her to the surface.

“I’m ready,” she told Elan softly in the early dawn. “I want to be unstoppable. Powerful. Teach me.”

He was silent for a long time. But she didn’t think he was asleep.

Had he changed his mind?

A spasm of worry held her tongue. If he had changed her mind after seeing her weakness, then—

“I have faith in you,” he murmured into her hair, reassuring her unasked question. He must have sensed her soul light wavering or something. “I was silent because I was thinking of where to begin.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must practice in the water. But our swim last night was not stealthy.”

Cold dropped into her belly. “You think your warriors are coming?”

“Yes.” His tone was grim. “We must be more careful. Any additional slips will cost Zain’s freedom and end in my death.”

Elan felt a growing low-level stress, like a buzz just beneath his hearing, slowly driving him crazy.

Zara’s success in defeating her parents caused a tectonic shift in her attitude. She suddenly believed in him and dedicated herself to capturing her power.

She started every morning and ended every night with one hundred foot flexibility exercises, trying to make her stubby human feet unfold into rippling mer fins. She went to a new lagoon on the island every evening. After another frustrating, unproductive meeting with Border and Immigration, she swam for hours. And she made love fiercely, tenderly, insistently every night to “grow her soul light” so she could capture her power.

And every night, instead of feeling more healed by their closeness, Elan stayed awake afterward with her nestled sleepily against his side and stared at the ceiling.

It almost felt like her preparations made their encounter with the warriors close in. He thought he had resigned himself to it, but the way she talked and moved and trained slammed the truth in his face.

He was terrified.

Her soul was so bright now she lit the darkness with her glow. She ought to have transformed already. What was holding her back?

She was vulnerable.

Elan would not lose her. He twitched with the thought. His fingers dug into her soft bicep like she was already slipping away.

She murmured in her sleep and rolled her shoulder, trying to free herself of his obsessive grip.

He forced himself to release her.

She settled.

His body tensed in waves. He wanted to grip her tighter. Hold like a limpet to a rock. Anchor her here, to this bed, to this hour, where it was safe.

Before it was too late.

The following day, Zara sat at lakeside endlessly flexing her human toes while her hair dried in the sun. Zain played in the muck. Vibrant green water reflected the hilly landscape and gray, cloud-skiffed sky.

“I think Varadouro is walled off.” She switched feet. “The hyper saline pools are separated from the ocean by volcanic cliffs.”

“No going near the ocean,” he growled. “Not until you can make your fins.”

“But maybe salt water triggers my fins.”

“Then pour salt in a bath.”

“I already tried.” She stretched her too-human feet and sighed. “We switched positions. Before, you wanted me to go into the ocean.”

“That was before we recklessly exposed ourselves chasing after Zain.”

Her smile faded. She looked down on her quietly playing son.

In addition to practicing her fins and arguing with Border and Immigration, Zara also listened to harbor reports conveyed by Vaw Vaw’s uncles. Another island had seen mer, perhaps. Early morning sun partially blinded observers’ eyes; the shadows had floated, suspicious, against the waves.

“Would your people attack us on the land?” she asked Elan that night over a dish full of spiced sausages and stewed greens. Zain rested on his mother’s lap carefully eating cooled shreds of spicy pork and mashed vegetables.

“Never.” Elan forked his own cooled meal. “Honorable mer cannot risk exposure to humans.”

“Even if they could see us? Even if they knew we were right there?”

“Such an act would violate the core principles of the ancient covenant.”

“Are you sure?”

“If the All-Council allows their warriors to expose themselves to humans, why not also accept modern brides for queens? The whole purpose is to remain a secret.”

“They know their secret’s out.”

“Traditionalists refuse to acknowledge it.”

“Still.” She took a heedless bit of searing potatoes. “Surfacing around here is a pretty big risk. Scuba diving is huge. There’s a whole oceanographic institute. Milly tells me sonar is running all the time. Scientists track whales and other migrations. Mer could easily show up if they’re not careful.”

He wanted to stop talking about it. “They are careful. And they will not cross the barrier onto land.”

She relaxed.

Elan didn’t.

His muscles twitched, urging him to action. Defend Zara, protect Zain. Focusing on this made him crazy.

He couldn’t see his enemy. He didn’t know which way to move or how to attack. The future was hidden behind a great cloud of swirling sand and he was caught in the blind center.

The network of Vaw Vaw’s relatives was useful. Each island was the size of an oceanic region and yet complete strangers to whom they owed nothing called the uncles to pass on messages.

Someday, perhaps, the mer population would grow as numerous as the humans.

But only if Zara succeeded in growing her powers and protected their family from all threats. Atlantis was one beacon of hope. Their family would be another. Tiny pinpricks of light against an ocean of darkness.

If their family died, then the dream of a human-mer partnership died as well.

And time was running out. He could feel danger gathering around them like storm clouds. Not only from without. From within, where it was most deadly.

She declared as much the next day as yet another freshwater lake shimmered coolly behind her. “I’m not making any progress. We have to do something. Anything. I don’t care what. I’m losing my faith.”

Elan jolted upright. He’d been lying beside Zain weaving marsh grass into a crown while his son busily undid his work. “Return to the water. Feel your faith.”

Her shoulders slumped. She rubbed her face. “It’s been almost two weeks.”

He tried to pull her off the log and into the marshy water. “Swim.”

She rose reluctantly. Every fiber of her body declared defeat. “Maybe it’s me. I’m not like those other queens. They didn’t spend a year running away.”

“The power is within you.”

“But maybe it’s not.”

“It is. We will discover it together. Come.”

Zara sighed and trudged into the water. They flew beneath the sun-dappled surface. White, sparkling sand seemed to float around them in a protective bubble. She grinned with brilliant awe.

And she still could not make her fins.

“Are you sure I have to make my fins first?” she asked as they pulled their human clothes on.

“You must.” He dried Zain and put on the diaper. Although he was not as nimble as Zara, he was becoming expert at the sticky tabs. “All queens do.”

“All three of them.” She frowned and flexed her fingers. “It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m doing … I don’t know. Something. I feel this total certainty, like no one’s getting close to you or Zain while I’m around, and there’s this tingling sensation in my hands.”

“Your hands? Not your feet?”

“Definitely not my feet.” She studied her fingers as though expecting to discover something new about the body parts, but they were just ordinary human hands. She shrugged and sighed. “I’m fooling myself. I don’t know what I’m doing at all.”

Her soul light dampened.

No!

“You are almost there,” he promised. “Since facing your parents, you have never shone so bright.”

“But it’s still not enough. I’m not enough.”

Zara must not doubt.

He thought about it during the short hike through the primordial forest to the road, where Milly picked them up in her sedan.

Perhaps the ocean tides or songs had more impact than he realized. Such things existed in these lakes. Fish sang brightly in fresh water and in salt. But he was a male. Perhaps he missed a particular female experience sensed only in the deep sea.

“We will attempt the ocean,” he decided.

They planned their swim like a military exercise. Zara wanted to try the hyper saline spa pools at Varadouro. Elan disagreed.

“This is a place I know.” He created the familiar landscape of the closest reef on her kitchen table using seasoning jars and napkins. “There is a loyal cave guardian who will warn us of any dangers.”

“A reef octopus?” Zara set out bowls of steaming oatmeal for herself and Elan. Zain, in his high chair, was already mashing into his milky cereal with a spoon. “That’s cool. One of yours?”

“He pledges loyalty to no castle, but like all of his kind, is a noble ally.”

Her eyes suddenly widened. She tapped her lips and turned away.

“Zara? You are upset.”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just remembering — there are certain restaurants we should not go to, and I have to talk to Vaw Vaw about her upcoming dinner plans.”

Dinner plans? Ah.

“Do not feel agitated. I am aware humans eat cave guardians. You have also eaten each other.”

“Cannibalism is rare in the extreme,” she protested. “We’d sooner eat barnacles.”

“Barnacles are tender and delicious.”

She bit her lip.

This was all beside the point. He visualized the reef in his mind. “We will go today. When can your sister take us?”

Zara checked the wall clock. “She’s got a morning class she’ll be leaving for in the next five minutes.”

He peeled one of the sweet breakfast bananas to assuage his hunger. The too-hot oatmeal would have to wait. “I will collect my daggers and we will go.”

Milly chatted quietly with Zara in the front while she drove them to the beach. Her soul light had been much darkened recently. Ever since shortly before her parents’ attack. She still seemed to feel guilty for the kidnapping. Every time she looked at Zara or Zain, she dimmed.

But she did not express her guilt aloud. Zara seemed distracted and did not ask. Of course, she could not see Milly’s soul light. Perhaps he would mention it to her after they returned from this excursion. He needed all of his focus on her swim.

Between yawns and expressing a desire for coffee, Milly told Zara about someone she’d met online.

“A friend of Lucy, the first queen,” Milly said. “She sent me a packet. I meant to give it to you ages ago. It’s the reason I asked you to campus the day Elan and Zain arrived, and then again it’s the thing I went to print out the night the police called about the locksmith.”

“It sounds cursed.”

“I hope not, because I actually did print it that night. I just left it in the printer and ran. A friend saved it for me, and then she forgot it, and then she was sick.”

“Sure it’s not cursed?”

“Haha. Literally the only thing that’ll stop me from getting it to you is if the island erupts.”

Zara frowned in the passenger’s seat. “You know, this island did erupt. Less than a hundred years ago.”

“I’m kidding. The packet is supposed to have more information about your powers. You can read it if you don’t make your fins today.”

“I’m making them.” Zara rubbed her fists on her denim shorts. “I can feel it.”

“Good luck.”

Milly parked, and they all got out. She waved to Elan and wiggled her fingers at Zain, who smiled and made a “goo” sound.

It squeezed his heart.

His son was finally opening up. Instead of being silent and frozen with fear, he was becoming comfortable with the routine of Zara’s family.

He must protect them. Zain and Zara. The responsibility was solely his.

He must not fail.

Zain wiggled. Elan had tightened his grip unconsciously. He released Zain.

They moved to a more private section of the crowded public beach and Zara took Zain. He pulled off his simple T-shirt and shorts and wrapped a towel to hide his nakedness.

Zara studied the smooth waves. “How do you know your warriors aren’t already here?”

He did not. “I will take care.”

Baby Zain struggled to get free and crawl to the ocean. She bounced the wiggly baby on her hip. “And you’re sure they won’t come on the land?”

“They will not come onto the land,” he confirmed. “Not unless they are rebels against the All-Council.”

In which case they should be safe.

“If I see any signs of warriors, I will return at once.”

She hugged Zain. “Be careful.”

He abruptly removed his towel, avoided the crowds of humans, and slipped beneath the waves.

The reef was quiet.

Too quiet.

He checked his daggers, secure against his biceps and thighs, and sought the small cave guardian. Its cave was empty. It was hunting.

Prickling danger crawled up the back of his neck.

No signs of a war party. The mer he’d heard could be at any island in the archipelago. Now, when they were not here, was the best time for Zara to come into the water.

His muscles twitched with indecision.

No other time would be safer.

Danger shivered across his nerve endings.

He returned to the surface.

Zara stood in the shallows teasing Zain, swinging him over the waves so he squealed. His fins shifted to human feet and back to fins again as they brushed the water. A beautiful smile lit his small, chubby face.

His heart swelled. This was what he was fighting to preserve.

Protecting them meant helping Zara to find her powers. The swelling of her soul light was worth any risk.

Zara swung Zain in his direction. Worry lines carved around her eyes. “Is it safe?”

He nodded and took Zain. “Can you make your fins here, in the shallows?”

She frowned, stopped at knee level, and began working on her feet. Waves washed her inland. He kept Zain above water despite the baby’s protests.

Eventually, her shoulders dropped. “No. So maybe it’s not the ocean.” She stared across the rolling waves. The warm gray-black sky reflected her indecision. “Should we leave?”

“Your soul light dimmed.”

“I’m nervous.” She rubbed her chest. “Honestly, this is more nerve-wracking than I imagined.”

He felt the same way.

He loved her. And he loved Zain. They were both two halves of his heart. This risk made him crazy. Losing either one would be fatal.

He forced aside his fears. “Come. Swim. Release your fears and grow your power.”

“Is it safe?” she repeated, echoing her earlier fearful question.

“We will stay close to shore.”

She seemed to hesitate and then, determination folded her brow and flared her soul light to brilliant. She ducked her head beneath the waves.

He plunged under.

Transforming, for him, was familiar and natural. All the surface air escaped his mouth and lungs in ticklish bubbles. Familiar liquid salt dissolved on his tongue. The seawater tasted like nothing. Like air or rain.

Sandy shallows isolated their family. Black particles obscured the depths and also hid them from any observers. He strained to see. The open ocean slipped in and out of his view like a patch of sun in a storm-lashed sky.

He flicked closer to shore. “We swim to that rock formation and back. At any sign of trouble, you and Zain move directly onto shore. Do not hesitate. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Oh.” She paddled after her son, who was already swimming too deep for Elan’s liking. “I can’t — will you catch him?”

Elan flicked his fins and easily herded his disgruntled son inland.

She swam near Zain. The surface shimmered overhead within touching distance and the volcanic sand puffed softly with the ocean tides. She smiled at him. Her soul light flared.

“Do you feel it?” he asked. “Your power.”

The flare reversed. She jackknifed to pinch her unfailingly wedge-shaped human feet. “Maybe.”

He would not distract her with pointless questions. He took her hand. Webbing between his fingers caressed her ordinary, human fingers with reassurance. “Let go of your worry. Feel the sensation of being in your natural environment. Under the sea.”

They swam as a family. She cautiously flew over the nearby vibrant life of the reef, delved her fingers into the black sand with Zain, and paddled after the free-floating parrot fish and loose rock coral.

Her experience would be so much richer only a few strokes deeper, but he took no chances. He kept them to his shore-side and attuned all his senses out.

They reached the pre-appointed rock formation and made the turn to swim the reverse direction back to their starting location.

She drifted closer. “Is everything okay?”

“That is my question for you.” Only a few more strokes to reach their original starting place, and then he would force them to head in. Only a few more strokes… “Any progress?”

She flexed her unforgiving toes.

Behind her, Zain gurgled.

Elan kicked out. There, barely visible in the sand, flew the cave guardian. Finally. The curious creature must have been attracted to their subtle noise and movements even though they were far inland from his cave.

“No.” She released her toes. “It’s no different here. I feel like I should be able to do something. But the tingles are in my hands and my chest, not in my feet.”

He focused outward. What was that darkness just beyond the cave guardian?

“Elan? Oh, it’s the octopus.” Her welcoming tone turned to a frown. “Something’s chasing him.”

“Shore. Now.”

Behind the cave guardian were shadows of warriors. Tridents raised, they flew at Elan with deadly intent.

“Shore!” Elan unleashed his bicep daggers and braced to face their enemy.

Three deadly warriors bore down on him.

Zara’s soul light darkened to black. She turned and kicked helplessly on her human feet. “Zain? Zain!”

Their son had drifted up the shoreline so Elan was no longer exactly between him and the incoming warriors.

Curse it.

He kicked sideways, putting himself in front at Zara’s teeth-grindingly slow pace.

Zara reached Zain and shooed him toward the beach. The land, the sand, safety.

Elan remained in deeper water. The trio focused on him.

Behind him, dark shadows shot across the sand. One flew on each side in the shallows. Hidden warriors had set an ambush.

He shouted. “Zara—”

The first three warriors were on him.

Elan darted and rolled, sliding just out from beneath their sharp blades and jackknifing to slice with his much shorter, but equally deadly, daggers.

He did not know who slashed and fought with their much longer tridents. Scars scraped the brow of one warrior. Another was young, just out of training. A third was bulky but fleet.

They had the advantage of numbers but he had been First Lieutenant. That position was given to the city’s best leader — and also the city’s best fighter.

He slashed all three, forcing the trio back. They paused, evaluating him and gripping their tridents. Their blood flavored the water. He was winded but barely nicked.

During the battle, the war party leader flew to watch.

“Yield, Elan the Betrayer.” The leader’s bloodless face was grim and pinched as if he never smiled. “You must face punishment for your crimes.”

“Is exile not enough?” he spat.

“Respect Commander Haren!” the bulky warrior growled.

Commander Haren’s voice remained mild. “You have stolen a young fry.”

“My young fry.”

“And taken him to the human world, revealing the mer’s existence.”

“The mer’s existence is already revealed,” Elan accused. “Modern queens rule Atlantis. Their husbands walk on human streets. We are beyond the era of secrecy.”

Commander Haren faced him impassively. Clearly it was not his first time hearing another strike out in futile anger.

He and his warriors were not from Dragao Azul. No other city would dare to intrude upon Dragao Azul’s sacred island. He must be a commander under the rule of the All-Council.

Elan’s stomach curled.

“And the All-Council stole my young fry first! I returned him to his mother.”

“He has no mother.”

“That is obviously a lie.”

Commander Haren repeated pointless All-Council platitudes in a bored tone. “All mer are born motherless. They are mothered by their city and by the Life Tree.”

The trio of warriors flexed, preparing themselves for another round.

Understood.

Elan would finish this fight and then face the commander. He gripped his daggers. Ready.

A commotion behind him tugged at his awareness but he dared not turn to expose his back.

The commander’s pale lips curled with something approaching satisfaction. “Warrior Elan. Return to your city with us or lose the last of your bloodline.”

Zain wailed.

They had captured his son.

Hot rage flushed through Elan. He pinpointed the location on each male’s chest where a single jab would pierce the heart.

At least Zara was safe.

He would kill this war party and then—

“Let go of me!” she screamed. “Give me back my son. Elan!”

Commander Haren flicked his long fingers at the trio of warriors surrounding Elan. They moved back, allowing him to turn without penalty.

A flushed young warrior dragged Zara, bound awkwardly in ill-secured seaweed bolas, backward through the shallow black sand. He gripped a wailing Zain around one ankle. The baby struggled and screamed.

The bolas wrapped around Zara’s neck and gills, strangling her. She thrashed. Her fury made the hairs stand up on the back of Elan’s neck.

“You dare to touch another warrior’s bride?” he snarled at Commander Haren.

The leader regarded the scene with icy dispassion. “That creature is no bride. She is a modern human. An enemy of the mer.”

His veins turned cold.

Commander Haren continued. “Because you did not come willingly to face your punishment, she will suffer.”

“No!” He attacked.

The three warriors corralled him with controlled attacks.

A trident flashed near his left eye.

He shifted to human feet and kicked the trident back into the face of the wielder, surprising him, and dodged the subsequent attacks.

The warriors fought harder, realizing that even desperation didn’t immobilize Elan. They would still have a rough fight. The youngest fought furiously, quickly exhausting himself. The more experienced warriors settled in for what was going to be their deaths. Or Elan’s.

That was how he lulled them into revealing their weaknesses.

He drew them in and slashed them each a second time, forcing them back once more, and, in the startled bloody space, he kicked free of the engagement and raced for Zara.

“Stop him!” Commander Haren roared.

The flushed warrior let go of his hostages to face Elan’s attack. He brought up his trident, the handle kicking up black sand. Elan avoided it.

And flew straight at the male’s hidden dagger.

No time to dodge.

“Elan!” Zara lifted her hands in warning.

But it was too late.

He braced for the hot bite.

Another flurry of sand, this time white, suddenly clouded the water.

The dagger clinked his chest as though running into a glass. It screeched across invisible plate and then sliced into his bicep.

Hot pain and his blood scented the water.

Elan rolled beneath the dagger and slashed the bolas strangling Zara. They dropped in a pile. She crawled free and collapsed on the shifting sandy bottom.

The other warriors caught him.

Bolas dropped around his neck and arms. Lines tightened, immobilizing his daggers. He kept a grip on their pommels as the warriors dragged him into deeper water.

Zara remained in the shallows, hurt and stunned.

The flushed warrior recaptured Zain, hauling him, screaming into deeper water. The war party ringed Elan. He forced sandy seawater in and out of his gills. His shoulders shook with the fight. Pain would come later. It always did.

“Drop your blades,” Commander Haren ordered.

Elan disobeyed. Even stretched like an insect in a web, he could inflict damage, and at an unguarded moment he could free himself. They knew it.

“Now. Unless you wish to see more bloodshed.” Commander Haren nodded at the warrior nearest Zara.

The flushed warrior placed his trident inches from her face. She froze.

Ice needled Elan’s veins. “Do not threaten another male’s bride!”

“Then drop your blades.”

“You defy the code of the mer! Die, all of you, with grave dishonor!”

The warriors twitched uncomfortably.

“No one is touching your bride,” the bloodless commander ground out, stopping their signs of discomfort. “And no one will. If you will drop your blades.”

He released them. They sank below sight, disappearing into the reef.

“No,” Zara whimpered.

The bulky, fleet warrior looped bolas around Elan’s wrists and ankles, tight.

Commander Haren nodded at the youngest warrior. “Bind the human to the reef.”

“You cannot!” Elan struggled. “No one knows she is here. She will starve or fall victim to scavengers.”

The young warrior hesitated.

“We have no choice. She must not channel her powers.” Commander Haren motioned for the young warrior to continue.

With a cold face, the young warrior kicked toward helpless Zara.

“She has no powers!”

The commander pinched his cold lips. “She hypnotized you into forgetting your duty. She enticed you onto the land. She returns like one of those false Atlantean ‘queens’ to the water.”

“I made her return to the water. She wanted to stay on the land. She is not like the other queens. She cannot make fins.”

They studied her. Her feet were completely human. For the first time, Elan trembled with gratitude that she could not shift.

“Look at her soul light. It is dark. She is no queen!”

Zara looked up at Elan. She sat, knees splayed and helpless on the sandy bottom. Her dark eyes rimmed red with hurt. She trusted him.

He begged for her life by destroying her.

“She fought us,” Commander Haren said doubtfully.

“Because of my encouragement. She is a true bride who has no power.”

“Elan.” Zara’s bitter accusation crossed the shallow water. “I would save you.”

“But you cannot.”

She flared with determination.

Their enemies murmured.

No!

“Stop this madness, Zara. You have no power. You will never be a queen.”

Her soul light darkened to black.

She believed him. Her fight was over. And all the warriors saw it, too.

His heart ached.

She gazed at him with broken hopes. Bitter practicality forced her to believe his words. He made himself impassive. She hadn’t made her fins, she hadn’t demonstrated any powers, and she would remain here, on the shore, with her people, where it was safe.

He would betray her a thousand times. “Stay on the shore.”

She flinched.

Her soul light remained dark.

Commander Haren turned, dismissing her. “We return to Dragao Azul.”

The warriors dragged him and Zain away.

Despite Elan’s order, she shrieked and tried to follow. But her stubby human feet were no match for the mer. They left her far behind.

The war party descended into the open ocean. Familiar currents assaulted Elan. Had the surface with Zara been a dream? Now, he returned to reality.

Back to the city of his betrayal.

Zara went to the police station. She went to Borders and Immigration. She went home.

There is nothing you can do.

How many times had she heard that today?

She lay down in her bed. Elan’s musky scent still flavored the sheets.

Fitting herself into his empty shape, she rested her forearm over the hollows where Zain had rested. The cold mattress prickled her sand-burned skin.

Agony stabbed into her as unrelenting as a stingray’s spike.

She waited for the numbness to come.

It did not.

I thought you had power. You are not a queen.

The agony stabbed deeper.

Milly moved softly in the kitchen, clearly trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Zara. But she was only staring endlessly at the blank wall.

She rose. How many hours had passed? She checked a clock.

Five minutes.

Zara dug her fingers into her palms. She sat on the bed and lifted her foot, inspecting it closely.

It looked like an ordinary foot. But her back also looked ordinary until she got into the water, and then thin slits opened where her gills interfaced with her lungs, drawing water through. Which meant tiny invisible lines must show where her toes separated, stretching the extra skin between them like a flying squirrel.

If she could make her fins, right now, she would go after them. Powerless or not.

There is nothing you can do.

Her skin jumped. She had to do something. The numbness wouldn’t come. Her brain wouldn’t shut down. And her body was ready. Not wrecked with injury or blood loss. Not this time.

Everything was Elan’s fault.

He had encouraged her, pushed her, made her face down her own parents and win. She had beaten them. Power burned within her but she couldn’t unleash it. If she could, she would have transformed and helped. Saved Zain.

She must still be holding back.

Why couldn’t she beat the most important bully of all? Her own heart?

She rose and stumbled to the kitchen.

Milly looked up from a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich. “Short nap.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you want to take something?”

Zara shook her head and slumped into the chair across from Milly.

Elan’s uneaten oatmeal rested on the counter, spoon still sticking out of the bowl. Zain’s was in the sink.

They were going to come back. She’d just bought bananas. Way more than two single women could eat.

Nonsense assaulted her.

She rubbed her temples.

“Headache?” Milly asked.

“I wish.” Because that would be a concrete pain. She could take an aspirin. Tell herself it would all be better in the morning.

Nothing would be better tomorrow morning.

Her fingers closed around an abandoned glass of water. Hers? Elan’s? She took a stale, lukewarm drink. It choked her throat like raw tears.

Milly typed a message into her phone. Then, she opened a manila folder and closed it again without taking anything out.

“Homework?”

“Not exactly.” Milly frowned at her long silence. “You are going to go after them, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t.”

“Zara, you’re the only one who can.”

“How can I?” She threw her arms up in the air. The helpless resignation of the police, of immigration, of everyone spit out her lips. “I tried and failed. I have no power. I can’t transform. And even if I could, they’re miles underwater surrounded by a city full of warriors. And on top of that, I don’t know the way.”

Milly’s sad silence tinged with disappointment. She didn’t like to see Zara give up.

“Maybe it’s for the best.” The agony stabbed deeper. Zara folded her arms. “Our parents’ trial is coming up. I’m going to be here this time.”

“I appreciate your support, but I’d rather have Zain and Elan back.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe we could—”

“I’ve been living in a dream long enough.” Zara slammed her palms on the table, making the water splash. “It’s time to give up wishful thinking and be practical.”

Milly folded her lips and toyed with the edge of the manila folder. “You could at least talk to someone.”

“What good would that do?”

“Lucy’s friend might know how to make your fins.”

“So what if I can? I’m helpless whenever Elan’s people attack. I freeze up and am useless.”

“Last time, you were all alone.”

Zara snorted. Wasn’t she all alone now?

Milly reached out and took Zara’s hand. Milly’s were so hot, but probably they were normal temperature, which meant Zara’s were like ice.

“Being all alone is the most frightening, powerless feeling in the entire world,” Milly said quietly. “When our parents kidnapped and isolated me, I did things I would never, ever do. I wanted to die. And you rescued me.”

“That was...”

She’d gone after Milly before thinking things through. And it had almost ended really badly.

“I was really angry. A Social Justice major who was too busy to notice her own sister being trafficked? If I didn’t act the instant I found out, my college probably would have revoked my diploma.”

“Things are different now, Zara. You’re different. A year ago, you were hurt. Hospitalized even. And nobody besides me believed what you’d been through.” Milly rubbed her cold fingers. “Now, everyone believes you. And they’d help you if they could. Vaw Vaw’s family. Facebook. Everyone.”

But the mer city was still hidden deep beneath the ocean beyond the reach of even the hardiest submarines. The mer didn’t reveal themselves unless, like the city of Atlantis trying to build a bridge between the surface and submerged worlds, they wanted to be revealed.

Even if Zara could make her fins, she’d have no way to reach Dragao Azul. Once there, she couldn’t do anything.

“And also, I’m different. I’m not alone anymore either.” Milly patted her hand. “I won’t let our parents get away. This time, I’ll make sure the police throw the book at them.”

The hope in Zara’s chest flared dangerously. She tried to crush it.

Elan had lost faith in her. She had no powers. Their family would have been ripped apart someday. Today was that day.

There was nothing she could do. She just had to accept.

Milly’s lips trembled. “Okay? You have to fight. Or else…”

Zara let the silence spool out.

Her sister slumped onto the table. “I did something terrible.”

More terrible than what had already happened today? Zara doubted it. “Oh?”

“It’s been eating me up inside. I think I have a new ulcer.” She lifted her head. Pained eyes focused on Zara. “I was the one who contacted our parents.”

Her words didn’t make any sense. “Huh?”

“You were so worried about today happening. Losing Zain and Elan. Border and Immigration wasn’t being any help. Someone at Vaw Vaw’s made a joke about smuggling you out of the country, and I thought, who do I know that’s a smuggler?”

“You had our parents’ phone number? All this time?”

“Email address.” Milly’s eyes filled with tears. “I swear, I just asked Mom for how they got away. If they ran out of the country, you could too. And she actually replied. With all these questions! I thought she was asking so she could help us come up with an escape plan.”

She dumped her head on the folder again. Her voice muffled. “I told her everything she needed to kidnap Zain.”

It just … still didn’t make any sense. “Milly, why? You knew what kind of people they are. Kidnapping is nothing to them.”

“But just me! I’m the one they target.” She lifted her head. “I thought, if it’s you, they’d help.”

Zara pointed at the scar on her forehead. “This is from where Dad threw a wine bottle with a broken neck at my head.”

Milly fixed on the scar like she’d never seen it before. “I don’t remember that.”

“It’s okay. You were three.”

“But you never…”

“Never what?”

Milly frowned.

Zara assured her. “We’re just possessions to them. You and me both. Why did you think our experiences were different?”

“You’re so fearless. You swam after their yacht and brought them to justice.”

“I was terrified.”

“And you talk about them all the time like it’s nothing. I can’t look … I can’t see their pictures without feeling this horrible, dark, squeezing in the pit of my stomach.” She rested her hands on her stomach and then lifted her trembling fingers with wide eyes. “Look. Even thinking about them makes me start to shake.”

Stunning awareness finally shook Zara free of her agony.

She had wronged Milly. Again.

Suppressing her memories, keeping silent about her fears, and thinking she was the only one who would ever be abused by their parents had simply set Milly up to become their next victim. Remaining silent, to this day, had continued to isolate Milly. It had made her believe that only she would ever be hurt by them again.

“And then I drew them here,” Milly continued, dissolving into recriminations again. “You and Elan jumped in the water and revealed your location to the bad warriors. Everything’s my fault.”

“I forgive you,” Zara said.

Milly’s mouth opened and closed. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have kept silent all those years about what happened.”

Trying to “get over it” and “move on” made everything worse. It “dishonored” her injury, as Elan would say. From now on, she was going to double down on her anger. Really vent it. And she wasn’t going to be silent any longer.

Zara’s anxiety faded. She knew what she had to do.

“How can you be so calm?” Milly demanded. “I caused this. Zain’s kidnapping, twice, and losing Elan.”

Zara changed the subject. “That first queen, Lucy. In your research, did you find out how to contact her?”

Milly stopped, self-loathing derailed. “Her Facebook page. Why?”

“I need to speak with one of those warriors of Atlantis. Could she put me in contact with one of them?”

“Probably. You might have more luck with her friend.” Milly bit her lip and opened the manila folder. “This is the packet I was telling you about this morning. I’m almost afraid to give it to you. I mean, maybe it really is cursed.”

The worst had already happened. Zara took the sheaf.

Entitled, Stories of the Sea Brides, it appeared to be a set of interviews. A loose cover letter on the bottom invited Milly to share her story of being left behind for a year while her older sister lived on the bottom of the sea.

“Even though you were not a sea bride yourself, I think you have a valuable perspective to share,” the author, Mel, wrote in loopy blue pen. “Call me if you ever want to talk.”

Zara flipped through the roughly formatted pages.

“Mel’s the friend of Lucy.” Milly rested on her elbows. “I didn’t submit anything, but I thought about it. I was really lonely the year you were absent. And then, after you got back…”

“I still wasn’t really here,” Zara finished. She closed the manila folder. The dull ache of her loss changed back to the stab of recrimination. “I should have read this before I got in the water.”

“It might still have helpful tips for transforming your fins.” Her sister frowned hard. “Those warriors broke their own rules. They can’t get away with that.”

Elan had promised the warriors would not chase her onto the land. They wouldn’t expose themselves to humans.

Muscles burning, puking water, she’d stumbled out of the surf. Terror fought exhaustion. Several people had crowded close, asking if she was okay. She’d pushed through them, shaking them off, and hauled Zain beyond the dry high-tide mark. Her eyes had focused on the parking lot, on the police, on the hills.

Suddenly, shocked screams had erupted behind her.

A new burst of fear pushed her on. Dry sand. She kicked dry sand and stumbled for thicker crowds.

But it hadn’t been enough.

A seaweed net had slithered over her, slapping her with wet lashes. It tightened around her throat and dragged her to the ground. Then, a naked merman had dragged her back into the ocean. It had happened too fast for anyone on shore to react.

But there had been hundreds of witnesses. Of course there were minutes of cell phone camera footage.

The police had been waiting for her once she gave up chasing them and dragged herself out.

“You’re right.” She set her jaw. “I don’t intend to let them.”

Milly’s phone vibrated. She checked the screen and stood.

“Milly.” Zara pushed the interview packet into the manila folder. “Do you think you could get ahold of this Mel?”

Milly looked at her in surprise. “You want to meet her?”

“She might know how to reach those Atlantis warriors too. I’m looking for a guide.”

“That’s great. I’m so grateful you feel that way.” Milly went to the back door with a grimace of guilt. “I kind of told Mel you were up from your nap so now’s a good time to talk.”

Zara rose as well. “She’s here?”

“I called her at the police station and she got on a plane right away. She’s come to see you.”

Zara rubbed her elbows. “Now?”

“You can ask her your questions.” Milly opened the back door. “This is Mel.”

A woman stood on their back step. She greeted them with a warm smile. In her arms, she held a child a few months older than Zain.

Zara’s throat closed.

Mel greeted Milly and then came in and crossed the floor to Zara, her charm disarming as Vaw Vaw’s, her handshake firm and yet comforting. “Hi Zara, I’m Mel and this is my youngest, Violet Lee.”

Violet smiled shyly and hid in her mother’s shirt.

“Aw, don’t mind her. She’s shy around strangers.”

Zara cleared her painfully closed throat. “Um, is she…?”

“Mer? No, her daddy is one hundred percent computer programmer. Some might say that isn’t human either, but at least he’s recognized by the government.”

Her tone conveyed her understanding.

“He’s out of town this week. Our older three are at sleepovers and I couldn’t arrange last-minute sitting.”

Zara fought to reconcile her conflicting emotions. This woman had four children with her husband. The world gave them no grief about being together. It wasn’t fair. Zara fought a brief, unwelcome wave of green jealousy.

Mel smiled sympathetically as though aware of the direction of Zara’s thoughts. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

She led Mel to the back patio.

Milly brought out passion fruit juice and crackers, and then she took Mel’s toddler, Violet, around to the front to play with a collection of seashells.

“So you’re an interviewer,” Zara said.

“Not by trade. I’m collecting these stories,” Mel held up her own, much thicker copy of the interviews she’d earlier sent to Milly, “because I think a lot more people are affected by our government’s indecision about how to treat mermen seeking asylum. You are only the most recent example. And certainly more will be affected once we launch our dating site.”

“Dating site?” Zara recoiled. “You want to send more helpless women down there?”

“We want to offer more willing women the chance to live their dreams as a mermaid queen,” Mel corrected. “Welcome to live freely in either world with their families. And that’s why governments need to act. If Elan and Zain could have gotten their passports on the first day, you’d all be in California already.”

“That just would have delayed the fight,” she said, unable to dismiss the bitterness. “You and Elan both said the problems with the mer are worldwide.”

“Yes, relocating to California would have delayed your fight,” Mel repeated, as though Zara had confirmed her point. “Delayed it until you were ready to fight on your terms, not theirs.”

“I might never have been ready.”

Mel eyed her shrewdly. “Do you really believe that’s true?”

Well … if Zara could have made her fins … and could have grown her power…

Her feelings had swelled with every moment they’d spent together. Assuming there wasn’t something actually wrong with her, wouldn’t her power and fins have come, eventually?

Probably something was wrong.

Elan had denied she was a queen to save her from being lashed to the reef. But deep down, she feared it was true.

After all, she’d thought she’d used her power today. Under the water, half-strangled by those funny ropes, she’d seen a dagger stabbing up at Elan’s unguarded heart and she’d been overwhelmed by fury.

No, you don’t!

She’d thrown up her hands to ward off the attack, and a magical white light had sparkled like an armload of disturbed sand, confusing everyone and altering the strike. The knife had missed Elan’s heart and sliced into his arm.

She must have been mistaken though because after that Elan said she had no power.

“Why are you here?” she asked finally. “Dropping everything to fly across the ocean from — where did you say you were from again? Florida?”

“Two reasons.” Mel smiled again, warm and determined. “The first is to get your statement for my book of interviews.”

“I’m not really in a writing mood.”

“I have a video recorder.” She lifted her cell phone. “Lucy taught me all about the benefits of Facebook Live.”

Zara sighed.

“The second is do whatever I can to help you.”

That seemed impossible. “How? You can’t bring them back.”

“No. But I could bring you to them.”

She straightened. Was it really possible? “No human can swim down to Dragao Azul.”

“No human can. But suppose I could get you there. Would you go? Tonight?”

Jagged shock fought with her wishes. Zara uncoiled from the chair and stood up, staring down at Mel with fury. “Of course I would leave immediately. But why suggest this? Without my power, aren’t I useless?”

“Honey, you’re not useless.”

“I’m certainly not a ‘real’ queen. I can’t even make my fins!”

“That’s not unusual.”

“It’s the first step in capturing my ‘queen power.’”

“There’s no actual proof that’s true.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve heard a number of people say making fins first is necessary, but going over the stories,” she lifted her packet, “I think some women have used their powers without even realizing it.”

That was ridiculous. “How could you use a magical superpower and not know?”

Mel flipped in several pages. “One bride caused a white shield to shelter her husband from a fight. Another stopped a gravel slide from crushing their city’s Life Tree. Yet another fended off a shark with what she described as, ‘white sand.’”

“White sand?” Zara repeated sharply.

“In all these cases, nobody recognized the women as doing anything. Even the women never thought of it as a power. They blamed currents, luck, or in the case of the shark, it was a ‘freak underwater sandstorm.’ People discount their own abilities. Channeling your city’s Life Tree into a protective power only requires feeling deeply resonant, centered, and true in your soul.”

Then … Zara had done it? She had channeled the Dragao Azul Life Tree during the attack and nobody had noticed.

They had dismissed her. They had told her she hadn’t done anything.

And she had believed them.

The old anger kindled in her chest.

Sure, her parents had made her doubt whether right was wrong or up was down. They’d poisoned her psyche since her impressionable, vulnerable childhood.

How dare complete strangers hoodwink her as an adult?

She had allowed herself to be fooled. Elan too. He’d been told a “truth” — that she had to make her fins before she could display powers — and believed that was the only way. Just like their attackers believed the ancient covenant was the only way. They were proved wrong and nobody had even seen it.

“I also might have channeled the Life Tree,” she said.

Mel smiled warmly. “Can you remember how you felt the moment the power flowed through you? You’ll need to create that feeling again.”

No problem. Zara remembered exactly how she’d felt.

The same anger had calmed her when she’d stormed her parents’ yacht to save Zain. Her anger had clarified to a pure white cleansing fury.

“Yes.”

Mel’s smile broadened. “We can leave right away.”

This was crazy. Zara rubbed her forehead. It wasn’t exactly jumping on a plane in the middle of senior finals crazy, or accepting a mysterious sea lord’s proposal during the first meeting, but diving against impossible odds was up there. “I can barely swim.”

“I have a solution.” Mel rose and motioned for her rental minivan. “Let’s go.”

Zara followed.

At the front, a proud smile cracked Milly’s face. “You’re going?”

Zara pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be back.”

Milly returned her heartfelt squeeze. “I know you will.”

They all drove down to the beach. Despite what had happened here only hours before, Zara didn’t feel fear. She faced the sunset’s declining rays with determination.

This would be the last sunset she watched alone.

She swore it.

Down the quieter beach, a dark-haired man strolled toward them. He wore a long mauve dress shirt and classy trousers, and the position of the sun blinded her to his features.

Mel unzipped a large duffel in the trunk and removed two magenta plastic scuba fins. “These were Lucy’s. I’m not sure about fit. I’ve got her swim socks in here as well.”

Zara lifted them skeptically.

“They’re not the fastest, but plastic is better than nothing.”

“I’ll take them.” She slung the fins over one finger.

The man limped to their group. Up close, his shirt matched mauve tattoos swirling across his face. His tattoos were punctured with vicious, recent scars. He stood tallest but had to hunch from an old injury.

He was a mer.

“This is Faier,” Mel said. “He knows the location of Dragao Azul.”

He looked away and tugged his sleeves lower. The gesture of shy gentleness was completely different from the warriors Zara had met. But his scars meant he knew combat, just like Elan.

“Alright.” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Wait. Let me get your statement.” Mel messed with her phone.

She itched to leave. “Right now?”

“Think of what you want to say to the visitors of Lucy’s Facebook page. They’re mostly seeking information on the mer and their brides. Okay.” She pointed the phone at Zara. “Tell me about yourself, who you are and what’s going on here.”

Oh.

Right.

This was her chance. “Can I make this a message to all the other brides?”

“Honey, you can send your message out to anyone in the whole world.”

Zara stared directly into the tiny shining lens. “My name is Zara. I was a sacred bride in Dragao Azul. My parents schemed to traffick my underage sister for a Sea Opal. I went willingly down to the city instead. But I did not agree to give up my son. Neither did my husband.”

Milly and Faier listened intently. Milly stood with a quietly playing Violet. The camera recorded every word.

“Today, warriors stole my husband and son away from me. They came onto the land. My land. They stole my family.”

Zara held up one finger. A warning to the warriors, who would never see this video and to the world, who would. “If this happened to you, you’re not alone. If you’re angry, feel angry. What happened to you was wrong. It needs to be righted.

“Now I’m going down to their city to take them back.”

Mel slowly lowered the camera. Her smile held hope tinged with sadness.

She understood Mel’s sadness. Mel was a mother and a wife as well as an interviewer of sacred brides. She felt sadness at the warriors who had caused such pain and sadness at the ancient covenant that continued to wreck their lives. And sadness now for Zara who had to go to battle.

“Stay strong,” Mel said in farewell. “Good luck.”

Zara nodded.

Milly hugged her.

She treasured her sister’s embrace. “I will be back.”

“I know.” Milly squeezed her one more time and let her go. Tucking her unruly, wind-swept hair behind her ears, she made fists to root for Zara. “See you soon.”

Faier unbuttoned his long-sleeved shirt, revealing more stitched scars crisscrossing his tautly muscled torso. “I will return in two days.”

“Be safe,” Mel told him. “We’re holding the grand opening of the dating site for you.”

He nodded and moved to the buckle of his trousers.

Zara turned away, giving him privacy. Milly held up a towel for her to change. It was funny, feeling so naked on the beach. She never thought about how naked she’d been under the water.

Everything was different.

She thought about the warriors she was going to face. The hostility. Angry males had already tried to kill her once today. For them, she represented the enemy in a holy war between the past and future.

Now, she entered the ring as a crusader.

Milly took Zara’s bunched clothes and hugged her one last time at the very edge of the shore, just before dropping the towel. In Zara’s ear, her worry whispered. “Come back.”

She stroked her sister’s hair like long ago. Then, she waved at the women on the beach, turned, and followed the already disappeared mer into the ocean.

Zara might die a martyr.

But she would crusade.

Elan’s journey back to Dragao Azul took much longer than normal.

His bicep injury healed quickly, but he’d more severely injured several warriors, and their trailed blood enticed surface predators, scavengers, and opportunists to swipe at the war party.

Every encounter raised Elan’s fears for Zain, but his captors protected his son as they would guard any young fry. Despite the unconscionable threats against his bride, they had not lost all honor.

Their slowness also seemed deliberate as if his escorts delayed as long as Commander Haren’s patience allowed. Whatever waited in Dragao Azul evoked their unspoken dread.

When he crossed into his city’s territory he saw why.

An army surrounded the city like a deadly blight. Not as extensive as the army that had attacked Atlantis, but the foreign warriors looked hardy and hungry.

His party swam through their belligerent ranks. The army closed around them, sealing off any escape.

They passed the first ring of castles.

Castles or, as Zara had once gasped in wonder, giant living “balloons” anchored to the vibrant sea floor. Beneath the rich floor, their roots interconnected in concentric circles around the Life Tree. Connected at the roots, the city literally was the Life Tree. If Dragao Azul’s Life Tree died, all the castles would wilt to muck and the city itself would die.

They passed the second ring of castles and entered the inner third.

No patrols. No warriors greeted him. The castles were cold and dark, empty.

Where was everyone?

They kept swimming deeper, into the oldest, tightest rings of castles, to the center of the city where the Life Tree rooted. The noise of the ocean muted and a holy stillness shot calm into his veins.

He had saved Zara. Whatever punishment lay ahead — dishonor, dismemberment, and death — Elan would suffer it willingly. She had survived.

The Dragao Azul warriors gathered just outside the center. They saw him. Their impassive expressions changed to surprise and then horror.

His captors dumped Elan near the front. Commander Haren took Zain through the last ring to the Life Tree.

Dragao Azul elders waited stiffly, ignoring Elan as if he did not exist.

His former warriors, lined up behind Elan in rank, were not so quiet.

Dosan, one of the pitying warriors who had let Elan escape with Zain, hissed. “Why did you return? Now all our lives are forfeit!”

“What?”

The elders kicked forward as though summoned. Elan thrashed to follow. Dosan and his silent patrol partner, Uvim, gripped Elan’s elbows and dragged him.

Inside the final ring of the grandest, most ancient castles, the Life Tree emerged in shining glory. Crowning a white dais mounded with Sea Opals, its great trunk lifted reverent branches toward the surface. Its thick anchor rooted securely to the seafloor. And its pure light filled Elan with peace.

All mer were connected to their Life Tree, not just via their castles, but in their very blood. Himself, Zain, and even Zara.

In every city, the Life Tree was the place of pronouncements. The place of marriage vows.

And the place of judgments.

This was where Elan expected to be tried for his crimes. But someone else was already strung up against the trunk of the Life Tree.

Dragao Azul’s king!

The foreign army forced the warriors into a ring around their Life Tree. Spaced out and empty-handed, they were flanked on all sides by an invasion force. Impassive, their tridents displayed in warning, they prepared to cut down dissenters.

One of the All-Council’s highest ranked generals presided.

He sneered at the king and gestured at Commander Haren holding a struggling baby Zain. “See? We retrieved the last young fry. Now your entire city of betrayers has gathered to witness my judgment.”

The king hung his head. He had been beaten; blood darkened the water and his body looked like pulp.

No general should pass judgment on a king. This was an act of war.

“General Iner,” Elan growled. “How dare you attack the king of a faithful city?”

The general jerked away from the king and flew at Elan. His gray-white tattoos fractured like chalk. Long, teeth-like gashes scarred his bald head and a crazed impression scarred his eye.

“You will call me Adviser Iner!”

His bent trident jabbed the underside of Elan’s jaw.

Elan leaned away from the sharp point. “What is this madness?”

“Adviser Creo ordered me to bring all betrayers to justice.” His frighteningly wide eyes and snarled teeth glowed sharply white against his battle-grayed skin. “I begin my judgment in Dragao Azul.”

Elan’s stomach turned.

Adviser Creo had judged Atlantis as unworthy and ordered its destruction. But he was not here to pass judgment on Dragao Azul.

“You act out of turn,” Elan snapped. “No general may pass judgment on a city.”

His blade twisted. “I told you to call me Adviser Iner.”

Elan endured the hot bite of metal against his jaw. “Only a vote by the entire All-Council can elevate a new representative. You are a general. Stop this now.”

“Do you mewl for your city? As well you should.”

The false adviser, Iner, turned and ordered Zain released. Commander Haren let go. Zain kicked for Elan. Iner caught him easily by the ankle and dragged Zain in front of the king.

“Cry for your people, bloody ruler. Look what your betrayal has wrought.”

Zain held out his arms and cried for the king.

The old male’s face twisted in pain. He looked away.

“Stop this! A general must obey the rule of the All-Council!” Elan shouted.

“The All-Council gave me their blessing.” Iner shoved Zain at Commander Haren once more and motioned to a separate group of warriors. Their tattoos were painted over so their affiliations were not identifiable. They were an execution squad.

They descended the Life Tree anchor and stopped midway to the sea floor.

Iner’s crazed gaze swept over all of them. “Honor our judgment.”

How could his fellow warriors remain so stoic? Impassive? Why was he the only one who cried out in protest?

When the All-Council army had gathered to destroy Atlantis, early scouts reported brides in the city carried young fry.

“We must offer them asylum,” General Iner had said, nobly and correctly, at that time.

Adviser Creo had refused. “We must destroy this poison seed, Atlantis, down to the very last young fry.”

Everyone had been shocked. To Elan, it was just one more bitter insult causing him to hate the All-Council. General Iner had silently gritted his teeth and obeyed.

But now it sounded as though he embraced Adviser Creo’s most horrifying, honor-destroying order as his new guiding vision.

To hear such similar words in Dragao Azul opened a new black pit of horrifying possibility in Elan’s belly.

He had yielded at the surface assuming Zara would be safe and no harm would come to Zain.

But Iner had bound and tortured their king. He madly declared himself an adviser, passed judgment on their city, and threatened to execute their Life Tree.

Now Iner swam back and forth in front of the king, ranting. “We came to you in friendship. Males of your kingdom betrayed the ancient covenant. We offered you the chance to take responsibility. But you threw our offer in our faces. Your city raised more warriors to defy us. The rot has seeped into your roots. It must be cut off at the source.”

The king hung his head.

Iner grabbed the king’s hair and forced him to meet his crazed eyes. “Do you deny it?”

Elan startled.

The others remained stiffly frozen. They had seen this violence. Although they protested in their bones, they must have been ordered not to seek vengeance.

But Elan had not received that order.

Iner pointed at Elan. “There is the general you sent knowing he would betray us. Just like those exiles Kadir and Soren. They all came from your city. Your Life Tree. Do you see how you have given us no choice?”

The king did not look at Elan and did not reply.

“Useless.” Iner released the king. He returned to pacing.

Below, the execution squad fitted together a chain of serrated blades. Such blades were used to saw a Life Tree.

Elan struggled in his bolas.

Iner was judging the city. No one stopped him. This wasn’t an idle threat. Wishful thinking had to be given up in the face of harsh, unbelievable, but obvious reality.

This could not be permitted.

“Stop,” Dosan whispered.

Elan bared his teeth, his vibrations near silent. “Dragao Azul is under attack. Who can remain impassive?”

“The king ordered. He will give his life to spare ours.”

Elan rejected that with his entire soul. “They will not stop with his life. Do you not see? This is a judgment against the city itself.”

Dosan frowned. His dark sapphire tattoos made deep lines across his forehead.

His silent partner, lighter amethyst-tattooed Uvim, lifted his chin. It looked as though he and Dosan had argued this point, and Uvim took Elan’s side.

“I might have lost my honor,” he said softly, chafing his wrists against the taut bolas, “but I will not allow Dragao Azul to die without a fight.”

“We have no choice,” Iner declared.

He turned away from the king and addressed the foreign army, All-Council warriors who outnumbered the Dragao Azul warriors three to one.

“No choice but to end this city now as an example to the ocean. No one betrays the ancient covenant. No one betrays the All-Council. This is my ruling.”

Elan nearly pulled his shoulders out of socket. The bolas did not budge.

“Our king ordered us not to fight,” Dosan insisted.

“Do you not hear? Do you not see? The blades poise against our Life Tree.”

“But we are a faithful city.”

“Open your eyes. Iner had gone crazy. He finishes his threats.”

“Impossible,” Dosan vibrated.

Behind Dosan and Uvim, young scholar-in-training Orol whispered, “We are not the only city to be visited. Another All-Council army surrounds Sireno.”

Sireno was the home city of the first warlord to defy the ancient covenant, Torun, and was ruled by a young king said to be sympathetic to him. Their city did not send any warriors to join the Battle for Atlantis. Tacit support of Atlantis if not outright defiance of All-Council orders.

Elan focused on the young warrior. “How do you know this?”

Orol straightened, his citrine-yellow tattoos shining with iridescent pride. “Messengers arrived with warnings for both cities. We had a day’s notice, but our king refused to believe they came for war. He did nothing to prepare.”

“Because he had no reason to fear,” Dosan argued. “Why would the All-Council end us? We are their allies.”

“They lost the Battle for Atlantis,” Orol said reasonably. “They must assert their power or other cities will pull away. The other elders talked of it but the king would not listen. We are an example.”

Elan growled. “Lucky for Iner we did not fight. He will cut our city off at the roots and execute us.”

“We would have avoided this trial if you did not return.” Dosan glowered at him. “The king suffers because he authorized us to let you go. How dare you return to be used as evidence against him?”

Elan bit down on his own failure and fury. “They threatened my bride. And my young fry.”

The other warriors had the grace to look shocked and then enraged.

Dosan recovered first. “Even so. You should not have come.”

“I would sacrifice myself a thousand times to save my bride.”

“And the king would do the same for us,” Dosan growled back. “None of us want his sacrifice. His torture is our torture. We would all rather fight at his side than over his grave. You are both fools.”

Elan clenched to hold back his furious denial.

They were different. The king wishfully thought only he would be judged; he held back and hamstrung his warriors from fighting a battle that, while hopeless, would surely be better than willingly going to death.

Iner questioned Commander Haren. “The betrayer’s bride suffered for breaking her vows?”

“She was led astray by her husband,” the commander replied, bloodless as ever. “Alone on the shore, she will honor the covenant.”

Iner’s eyes narrowed. “If she returns to the water, we will end her.”

The commander’s jaw tightened. He nodded his understanding.

Beside Elan, Dosan and Uvim both made fists. They were not bound in bolas — none of the warriors of Dragao Azul were — because they were honor-bound by the word of their king.

Talk of injuring brides, like threats against young fry, was the stuff of nightmares. Any honorable warrior would react to it with horror.

This entire situation was Elan’s nightmare.

If Zara went into the water, the All-Council would end her? A bride? But she hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Elan was the betrayer. She was the victim.

He struggled harder to get free. His wrists and ankles ached. He had to tell her not to stop practicing her fins. Stop trying to grow her…

Wait.

Was he really so different from the king?

The king would do anything to protect his warriors. Blindly, he hamstrung them at the moment they most needed to fight.

Elan would do anything to protect Zain and Zara. He had failed the night of Zain’s birth, and he had sworn it would never happen again. He had denied her powers on the surface.

He’d hamstrung her power and ordered her not to fight.

Elan was the same.

He had betrayed Zara. Was it really to save her? No. In truth, he had ordered her to stop fighting to save himself. He couldn’t survive another failure. And so he had bound her with an order to remain on the shore, powerless, while enemies made off with her son. Again.

Now, their son was in a position of extreme danger. Elan had denied Zara the chance to protect him.

He’d once told her to release her fears and embrace her power. The one he should have said it to was himself.

In the worst case, she would have been hurt. Hurt fighting for what she believed in, for the husband and son that she loved.

The shock of an injured bride would have jolted the Dragao Azul warriors out of their stupor. If Zara were here now, there was no way they could lie, complacent, and watch their Life Tree and king be destroyed. Certain lines could not be crossed.

Elan had feared his own failure more than he had respected his wife’s power.

Zara was a true warrior.

He was a betrayer.

Iner hefted the king’s shiny, copper-colored trident. “As king of Dragao Azul, you have betrayed the ancient covenant and lost the honor of the mer.” He drew back the weapon to plunge it into the king’s chest.

Zara would not allow this to happen. She would fight. No matter the cost.

“You betrayed us first!” Elan shouted.

The surrounding warriors jolted.

Iner lowered his arm. “You dare interrupt these sacred proceedings?”

“These proceedings are as sacred as a bubbling mud pit.”

Iner blinked.

“And you have as much right to judge, you parasitic sucker fish.”

The elders tried to shush him. But he would not be silenced.

“The ancient covenant is for our protection,” Elan snarled. “The All-Council upholds the laws. You twist the ancient covenant. And who will uphold the law if an All-Council general is the violator?”

“I have the All-Council’s blessing,” Iner repeated.

“Then the All-Council violates every rule of honorable warfare!”

Iner’s eyes drooped to half-lidded. “Only a rebel would think so. Law-abiding warriors obey. Your sickness has grown because of weak leadership in this lawless city.”

“Any mer with honor will know the All-Council has none. You are power-hungry, frightened, and desperate.”

Iner flew to Elan, the king’s trident leveled on his chest.

Elan braced for the hot bite of the blade.

Iner pulled up and sliced through his arm bolas, releasing his wrists. “First Lieutenant Elan, it is your job to execute warriors who violate the laws.”

Elan tightened for the suicide demand.

But instead, Iner dragged him before the Life Tree and shoved the king’s trident into his hands. “Your king has violated the laws. Execute him.”

What?

The king dropped his head, not in defiance, but because he was too injured to hold it up. Scars cross-crossed scars. Fresh, blue bruises lay atop purple and green.

Elan’s fingers flexed on the well-wrought weapon.

His ankles and knees were still bound. Iner had moved outside his reach. Too close to allow Elan to free himself, too far to allow Elan to stab him.

Execute the king?

“I will not,” Elan declared.

“You will.” Iner took a trident off another warrior and extended its blade to lift Elan’s. He forced Elan’s blade to the king’s throat.

A thread of blood whispered out. The king didn’t even whimper.

Elan held against Iner’s pressure. The crazed general was stronger and not hampered by bolas. But Elan was more determined.

“I will not!” Elan doubled his fight against Iner’s pressure. “I would rather execute myself.”

Iner’s crazed eyes fixed on Elan. “I know.”

He knew?

Was Iner truly crazy? Or had the All-Council decided to torture the city before killing it down to the very last warrior?

“No!” Elan shoved off Iner’s trident and twisted to face the general. “My king is innocent. Nothing will force me to execute him. I refuse.”

“Nothing?” Iner pivoted and flew to Commander Haren. He lifted his trident to Zain’s throat. “Not even a threat to the life of your young fry?”

Elan froze.

A shocked growl echoed through the mer. Even the foreign invaders shuffled uneasily.

“Your own dishonor forces me to do this!” Iner shouted. “Obey, Elan. Do not hurt your own young fry.”

The invaders glared at Elan as if he were the one holding the blade to his young fry’s throat.

Commander Haren twitched. He was not so easily misled and clearly fought his own instincts to support Iner’s threat.

Zain struggled and wailed. He accidentally cut himself on the sharp blade.

The commander pulled Zain away from the danger.

“Hold him to the blade,” Iner ordered. “It is not your hands causing injury. Elan is the one who has no honor.”

A sick stillness masked Commander Haren’s face. He held Zain against the blade as ordered.

Panic fought with agony. This was Elan’s nightmare. He could not fail Zain or Zara. If either were hurt, he would die.

“Kill me.” The king moaned behind Elan. “I allowed this. I allowed all of this.”

No matter the cost.

His insides trembled. Elan turned to the king. “I also allowed this.”

The king’s face twisted in agony. But still he tried to comfort Elan. “It is okay, Elan. End this. Save our young fry. You were always … honorable.”

No, Elan was not. He had run from his fears over and over. He had run from his failures and only caused more pain.

Now, he faced his nightmare crisis.

He stopped running.

He faced the darkness no matter the loss.

Elan expanded his chest and roared. “Young fry are the blood of the city!”

His shout echoed across the Life Tree dais.

The king winced. At Elan’s volume and also because it was the first line of the familiar chant, recited by all warriors-in-training, listing the values of Dragao Azul.

“The blood of the city is the sap of the Life Tree! The sap of the Life Tree is the life of the warrior! The life of the warrior is duty to the king!”

As he shouted the chant full volume, the warriors of Dragao Azul began to mutter and agitate.

The king had ordered them to avoid bloodshed. But obedience only made Iner’s plot easier to execute.

The stark disconnect between their values and reality forced them to open their eyes.

Once honorable First Lieutenant Elan would have obeyed the king’s orders without question. Fearful Elan would have sacrificed the whole city, mer by mer, to protect his son.

But now was no time for sacrifice. Iner would use Zain against Elan until the bloody end — and then kill Zain, too.

Zara never compromised on evil. She fought with her whole heart.

So did Elan.

“Honor! Duty! Life Tree! City!”

The rallying cry shuddered through the doomed city. His fellow warriors roared, coming to life and fighting back.

“Someone shut him up!” Iner ordered. “Execute the king. Destroy the Life Tree!”

The All-Council warriors moved, weapons out.

Elan brought his trident down and sliced through the king’s bonds. He crumpled at the base of the trunk.

Then, Elan turned the blade on his own bonds, freeing his ankles and knees. He shouted the rallying cry. “Dragao Azul! Dragao Azul! Dragao A—”

Determination propelled Zara through the water, kicking Lucy’s magenta plastic fins.

She’d long since passed the point where she worried about whether she would make it to Dragao Azul in time, whether she would be welcomed or hunted, or whether she would even be able to see Elan and Zain.

All she did was kick into the endless ocean sky, following after Faier.

He was more lithe under the water than on the surface. His extensive scars did seem to slow him but not as much as her plastic fins slowed her.

Around the far side of Pico island, an ocean trench dropped three thousand feet, filling the water with vast packs of stunning wildlife. They followed yipping pods of dolphins to wailing blue whales. At the lower depths, Faier switched currents, and the deep “skies” filled with melodic, hundred-pound groupers, frisky, timorous swordfish, and arrogant, bubbling tuna.

He broke the silence to ask if she needed to rest.

“I can push on,” she said.

As they descended, the water grew a thick, woolen texture.

Elan had once told her it was the change from the silky, warm surface temperatures to the woolly, frigid bottom. Her ability to see miles in all directions didn’t change. The deeper she went, the more she witnessed — from the shrimp-like krill to their mammoth baleen predators. Each glowed like luminescent dancers in a brightly lit rave.

The vastness of the ocean was oddly comforting. Like gazing into the mouth of the Grand Canyon and picking out every tiny mouse, sparrow, and ant, to say nothing of the wolves and grizzlies, and from such a great distance they were easily avoided.

Faier focused their journey. Which was good since Zara was sure she’d horribly slowed them.

He finally broke their longest silence. “We are not far behind the war party.”

Hope rose. “Then, we could catch them?”

“No. I am leaving their trail now.”

“Why?”

“Someone is injured. The scent of blood is fresh enough to draw scavengers.”

She hoped it wasn’t Elan. He’d been stabbed in the arm. How bad was it?

Zara had no choice but to trust Faier. His unshakable calm made him easy to trust. Not once had he tried to talk her out of her quest or demand her plans.

“Are you from Dragao Azul?” she asked, kicking to follow him into the new current. “I don’t remember you.”

Faier shook his head.

Not that she knew all the Dragao Azul warriors. She had been locked inside Elan’s castle most of the time — except when she could convince him to break the rules and sneak her out.

Faier’s lopsided gate crossed the current. “Now, I am from Atlantis.”

Elan had tried to destroy Atlantis. Did Faier know who he was helping?

“Did you ever meet Elan?” she asked casually.

“I tried to kill him several times.”

So he knew. But he was here anyway.

“Thank you for helping us.”

He glanced back. His dark eyes focused on her. “I am helping you.”

Not Elan. “Why?”

“I know the pain of being forced from a city you have faithfully served.” He kicked out of rhythm. “Being denied honors. Having your abilities discounted and your dreams crushed.”

That was exactly what Dragao Azul had done to her. And Elan had denied her too. She’d let him do it because she hadn’t known any better.

Well, now she knew better. She was going to swim right into Dragao Azul give Elan a piece of her mind. And he was never going to discount her again.

“Yes,” she said fiercely. “That’s it exactly.”

Faier faced forward again. His chest vibrations floated back to her clearly. “I will do all I can to help you demand justice. But, success will depend on you.”

Because she was a queen, and she was racing to save her husband, her son, and her city. “I understand.”

They reached the outer glow of Dragao Azul. The whole ocean seemed to quiet, and the bare rocky sea bottom filled with vibrancy. She had forgotten what it was like to enter the territory. How could she describe a mer city to someone who had never seen it, like Milly?

City castles floated like big green balloons around the glowing Life Tree. The Life Tree looked like a winter-swept, mighty oak that had already shed its leaves, leaving behind bare branches. But the Life Tree didn’t actually produce leaves. Only small blossoms and large drips of sap that pearled up like sparkling tears.

This sap became the valuable Sea Opal gemstones. Thought to cure cancer, tumors, all illnesses, and even reverse aging, they contained mystical healing properties and commanded enormous prices on the surface. Yet under the water, they represented the ancient covenant between a merman and his bride. And so they dripped off the Life Trees in every city, raining down human wealth and mer wedding promises on white daises across the whole ocean.

Faier tucked his long trident into his side. “Trouble gathers outside the city.”

“Where?”

He pointed.

Small dots moved like ants in the infinite distance. But there were definitely a large number, and they buzzed the city like flies over rotting meat.

Uh oh.

“An army,” Faier confirmed. “Surrounding the city. They await a signal to attack.”

“What signal?”

“Possibly our arrival.” But, rather than turning aside, he aimed directly into the army’s center.

Zara kicked after him.

Warriors flew forward. Their tridents formed a bristling lattice of metal like a barricade.

Faier stopped and floated upright, trident close to his body. “We have business in this city.”

A leader flew forward. “This city is under judgment of the All-Council.”

“Our business is with the All-Council.”

Zara floated, weightless, nerves squelching in her belly. There were twice or three times as many males in this barricade as lived in Dragao Azul. They had the hard, hungry look of brutal warriors who could raze the city at the slightest provocation.

And they were all naked. Even the leader had a giant, lax cock swirled with two-tone tattoos in gunmetal gray and subtle purple orchid.

Most of the time, she barely noticed nakedness underwater. Faier was completely naked, and as soon as she’d hit the waves and converted over to “mer” sight, she couldn’t be bothered to care about it.

And this army certainly didn’t pay any attention to her pasty chub. She might as well have been wrapped head-to-toe in a shapeless curtain.

Their nakedness only struck her because she felt vulnerable. And, it was weird to see a tribal army carrying deadly weapons but wearing no protective armor.

“I am Commander Faro, second unit, assigned to the All-Council.” The leader with the gunmetal gray and orchid tattoos pointed the tip of his trident at Zara. “She does not belong here.”

Faier tensed. “Do you raise your trident to a bride?”

A mutter swept through the army. Had Faier just insulted them?

Commander Faro’s lips tightened. But he did not change his tone or posture. “Brides do not belong here.”

“She has come to retrieve something your warriors stole.”

Another ripple of dissent tested the control of the army.

Commander Faro lifted one hand.

The mutters instantly silenced.

He raised a proud countenance. “You are mistaken. The only things taken belong here: A traitor and his young fry. Now, return the bride to the surface where she belongs or we will do it for you.”

Faier twisted his grip on his trident. “No one touches this bride.”

Commander Faro did the same. “Then do your duty according to the code of honor.”

A tense standoff filled the water with threat.

Wait. No. This was wrong.

Zara raised her hands. “Just a minute. I’m here because one of your warriors broke the rules.”

Commander Faro never lifted his gaze from Faier. “We do not care about human rules.”

“Your rules. He broke your rules.”

Commander Faro’s gaze flicked to her.

Good. He was listening.

“Your warrior touched me.” Zara’s voice shook with the memory. “Me. A bride. Even though he was not my husband.”

Commander Faro narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“I am a mother. That ‘young fry’ your warrior stole is half mine. And he was in my arms when your warrior attacked.”

Faier pushed her point. “Attacking a bride is a clear violation of mer law.”

Commander Faro was silent for a long moment. Then, he shook his head. “That kind of violation is up to the husband’s city to punish.”

Frustration scraped her. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Then you will receive your judgment after the city receives its judgment.”

Faier also clearly disliked that answer. “There may be nothing of the city left.”

“That is unrelated. My duty is to prevent anyone from leaving or entering. And I will do so.”

Zara made fists. “But it’s not fair!”

“It is the law.” Commander Faro motioned to three warriors. The trio flew forward, tridents out and bolas ready.

“I was wronged! Your warrior dishonored me. He chased us onto the land!” she shrieked.

Commander Faro dismissed her. “Lies.”

“It’s not a lie!”

Faier moved directly in front of Zara and slashed his trident across the water.

The trio of warriors slowed. Their guards rose as though they were surprised by his expert movements. Whatever injuries he had, he apparently lulled his opponents into a false sense of confidence. A single slash put the proper respect into the other army’s eyes.

“Do not call Queen Zara a liar,” Faier said softly. “You dishonor yourself with such an insult.”

Queen Zara.

Commander Faro scowled. “I find her changing story to be highly convenient.”

“It’s not changing. It’s the truth.” She looked around wildly for proof.

One of the warriors in the barricade looked familiar to her. As her gaze passed over him, he flushed.

A pang of recognition smacked her like a heat wave. She pointed. “That’s him! He’s the one who attacked me.”

Commander Faro turned.

The warrior shuffled back, breaking formation, and looked away as though searching for an escape.

“Swim forward,” Commander Faro snapped.

The flushed warrior obeyed reluctantly.

“Did you attack a bride and young fry on the land?”

He shook his head, but his face was troubled.

“You did so! In front of witnesses,” she said.

Commander Faro’s voice hardened. “You exposed yourself to modern humans?”

The warrior shook his head harder.

“Hundreds. People had cell phones. Those videos are all over the world right now. Everyone saw a merman come out of the ocean, chase me and Zain across the land, attack us, and kidnap my child.”

His face crumpled.

Commander Faro snapped. “Answer.”

“I was ordered,” the flushed warrior said weakly. “To capture the young fry using any method.”

“On land?”

“Commander Haren ordered—”

“Revealing yourself to humans is strictly forbidden.” Commander Faro slapped the flat of his trident against his scarred palm. “You are here to serve the All-Council, not break sacred rules, expose yourself, or attack humans on the land. Where is your intelligence?”

The warrior looked aggrieved. “Modern humans already know we exist.”

“That is no justification for breaking the law.”

“It is not all true. I used a net. She lied. I did not touch her.”

“Now you have revealed more secrets to humans.”

“Commander Haren commended my accomplishment!”

“Hmm.” Commander Faro dismissed him. The warrior returned to his place in line, disgruntled. Commander Faro eyed Zara and Faier, conflicted. “I cannot allow you to pass.”

“They stole my son,” she snarled.

“It was wrong,” Commander Faro conceded. “And I have my orders.”

Her fury built. It was just like arguing with Border and Immigration, but this time, she had less reason to obey him — and less time. Her hands tingled. But she didn’t want to attack him. She wanted to make him understand.

Zara placed both hands on her chest. “That warrior declared war against me. I am here to answer. Not to you. To him and to the people who issued his orders.”

Commander Faro remained silent.

She lowered her voice. “Do you have no respect for justice?”

His entire gunmetal-and-orchid swirled body went taut as a bowstring. He did not disagree. But he also would not allow them past.

Faier cleared his throat. “The All-Council judges violations of the ancient covenant. Our business must be brought before them. Or do you assume their judgments are now yours to decide?”

Commander Faro growled at Faier.

Faier faced him directly. Diplomatic, implacable, and blazing with truth.

“The acting All-Council representative, General Iner, is in the city.” Commander Faro turned from them with a swish and motioned for the trio of warriors to escort them into the city. “Take them to General Iner.”

To Faier, he added, “Do not raise your blade or they will end you.”

“Understood.”

The army parted. Commander Faro swam with them to the edge of the castles.

Faier lowered his voice to address only the commander. “A male so dedicated to honor is rare within the All-Council’s ranks. You were not at the Battle for Atlantis?”

Commander Faro shook his head. “My unit was intended to clean up and arrest deserters.”

“Then perhaps you do not know the All-Council ordered the death of three Atlantis brides and their unborn young fry.”

“That is unjust,” Commander Faro said, without changing expression. “Dishonor must be judged by the proper authorities.”

“The All-Council no longer upholds the laws. Honorable warriors are leaving their ranks.”

“How troubling.” Commander Faro stopped at the outskirts and faced Faier. “Because that is exactly when honorable warriors must remain.”

The two warriors stared each other directly in the eye. Understanding and grudging respect passed between them.

Commander Faro turned away. “Travel with honor.”

“You as well.”

They entered the city, weaving between the huge castles. In one of these, Zara had passed a year. It was all strangely familiar.

The closer they approached the Life Tree, the more still and silent the ocean became. It reminded her of the silence in a cathedral filled with holy incense and stained glass.

Once Zara had pretended she didn’t care if the Life Tree died, but that was a lie. Even though it was only a plant, its calming light assured her that her feelings were justified. Her anger was right. The Life Tree itself was on her side.

Shouting and a commotion erupted from the middle of the city.

The Life Tree!

Faier floated in front of her, his trident out and his expression alert for attack.

But it wasn’t a double-cross. The warriors guiding them looked at each other and darted toward the commotion, forgetting their guard duties and leaving them far behind.

Zara hurried, swishing the magenta fins, her nerves tightening.

Faier grimly followed.

She kicked around the innermost castle into a scene of chaos.

A mer was tied to the Life Tree. Elan floated in front of him, ankles and knees bound by bolas so he couldn’t shift into fins, yet he was still brandishing a trident and screaming about honor.

Go Elan.

Bare-handed warriors ringing the Life Tree began fighting their well-armed captors. And there, on the outer rim of the brewing fight, was Zain.

She began kicking to Zain.

Faier held her back.

Two warriors tumbled right in front of her, slashing the water and snarling.

Okay. Faier had just saved her life. She floated, searching for the best opening to fly to Zain.

“Someone shut him up!” An irritated leader-type warrior shouted. That must be General Iner. “Execute the king. Destroy the Life Tree!”

Elan sliced through the king’s ropes and the mer fell bonelessly to the Life Tree dais. “Dragao Azul! Dragao Azul!”

“Curse it all.” The irritated general threw his trident like a spear at Elan’s unguarded back.

“Elan!” Zara screamed.

Elan didn’t hear her. “Dragao Az—”

She made claws of her hands and willed the trident not to strike.

Her fingers tingled.

He wouldn’t get away with this.

Elan had just single-handedly started a revolution. This general person wouldn’t silence him. Not by a trident to the back.

No, you don’t!

The Life Tree made a shattering noise and flashed white.

White sand appeared in a swirling shield around Elan. The trident smacked into the shield, clinked like metal against glass, and glanced off, twisting in the open water.

Fighting stopped

“—ul!” Elan turned his trident on his own bonds, slicing his ankles and knees free. He looked up. His face changed into pleased recognition. “Zara!”

“A bride,” warriors gasped. Dragao Azul warriors and invaders both stared at her with awe. Their murmurs filled the open space. “The Life Tree flashed. Just like the legends. It is a queen.”

Elan kicked to her, his fins unfurling into aquamarine-swirled flags. Underwater, uninhibited, he was magnificent. “You came.”

“Of course.” She opened her arms, and he sailed into her embrace, tumbling her over backward. His mouth stamped hers in a brief possession. She accepted his kiss, and while they were still connected, she vibrated her promise. “Always. I only needed to be shown the way.”

He pulled back with a proud smile, nodded at Faier in apparent recognition, and did not bother to ask the scarred warrior what he was doing here.

Faier remained alert. Behind them, the warriors’ awe wore off and the different groups moved apart, regrouping, and re-arming.

Zara released Elan. Their reunion could wait. She held out Elan’s blades.

He rested the trident on his knee and strapped on his weapons. “Where did you find these?”

“The reef octopus collected them.”

Warriors circled around, testing weapon reach and skill, picking up the fight again.

Elan checked the blades and gripped his trident. To Faier, he said, “Protect my wife.”

“On my honor,” the scarred warrior vowed.

She protested. “I have my own power!”

“Use it to protect the Life Tree.” Elan pointed.

Below, warriors positioned a wicked serrated saw against the live, pulsing stalk.

Elan turned.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

He tossed a smile over his shoulder. “I will rescue our son.”

The too-familiar, overly confident, arrogant grin seared itself on her soul. She sucked in a hard gulp of cool water. This was the husband she had missed so much. His sweet confidence. Everything would work out. They would overcome any obstacles and succeed.

He kicked for the commander trapping Zain. The other warriors began fighting again. Many converged to defend the commander. Elan dove into the fight.

She wanted to protect Elan. And Zain. How could she do it? She flexed her fingers, feeling her anger at this unjust invasion.

Below, invaders sawed into the Life Tree’s stem.

It screamed. So loud and so high, the noise made Zara’s spine curl. Light flashed red in a horrified warning.

Another saw cut deep.

Pain seared into her skin. And she wasn’t the only one. Dragao Azul warriors, Elan included, spasmed and cried as though they had been stabbed.

The foreign warriors pressed the advantage. Faier stood strong against them, but the Dragao Azul warriors disappeared in bloody clouds.

No. This was wrong. It was not allowed.

The Life Tree was innocent. Injustice burned in her chest with a sharp, clear light. Her hands tingled. She directed her anger in a calm force.

A white sandstorm engulfed the warriors around the saw. They kicked away, flying back as though they’d been propelled.

The sharp pains receded to a dull, pulsing pain. The Dragao Azul warriors recovered.

General Iner pointed his trident at Zain. “Attack the young fry!”

Zain?

Wasn’t attacking a young fry against the rules?

Surprise eclipsed her anger. The white sand barrier dissipated, revealing the saw blades wedged into the Life Tree stalk. While everyone else hesitated, the invaders below gathered around the exposed saw.

No.

She focused. The white sand barrier reformed, driving them back.

Only Zara could protect the Life Tree. But she couldn’t protect everyone else too, or even herself. And she wasn’t the only one who realized it.

The old backstabber crowed. “She is the enemy. Destroy her!”

Some of his warriors hesitated.

Others did not.

Faier met the first attackers with brutal efficiency, sweeping them sideways with deft thrusts of his trident. The second wave approached more cautiously. One feinted to draw Faier out, but he was experienced and would not move away from her. The third wave mounted a coordinated attack, and he had no choice but to leave her exposed as he fought them off.

As he protected on one side, brutal, snarling warriors flew at her from the other.

Two Dragao Azul warriors darted in and fought them off. They seemed vaguely familiar. One taunted his enemies loudly, with dark sapphire tattoos, and the other fought silently, his amethyst tattoos shimmering. For once, instead of bossing her around and stealing her son, these warriors protected her.

But even three would not be enough to fight the waves of foreign warriors massing in menace.

“Protect the queen!” The warrior with sapphire tattoos — she thought his name might be Dosan — shouted across the battlefield. “As you guard our Life Tree, defend Dragao Azul’s queen!”

Behind Elan, the warriors of Dragao Azul swarmed Zara, summoned by Dosan’s cry.

Not only Faier, but the entire city of warriors, elders and trainees alike, united, at last, in the battle for the city.

Zara’s soul light shone with the same brilliant resonance of the Life Tree. She focused on its protection. They focused on hers.

Elan turned back the fight with Commander Haren. After the warriors in front of him had fallen under Elan’s trident, Commander Haren had bound Zain with a bola and settled into the fight.

Zain’s bitter howls distracted Elan and so did his fears for Zara.

Which made the Commander more than a match for him.

Commander Haren thrust his trident into Elan’s incoming attack. Elan tangled his trident in the blade. The commander growled. A flash of sharpness was Elan’s only warning. He brought up his own dagger and crossed blades with the wily commander.

“Yield,” the commander snarled, twisting his blade against Elan’s, his muscles bulging to gain the advantage. “Your city is going to die. First your bride, then your Life Tree, and then your young fry.”

“Those words would make an honorable warrior sick.” Elan strained.

“There are no honorable warriors.”

“Wrong!” A surge of fury gave Elan the power to shove the commander back.

The commander hesitated, surprised.

Elan fell upon him, slamming first his blade out of his hands, and then his trident.

The commander flew backward, searching for a weapon.

Elan pinned him against the wall of the king’s castle.

Commander Haren grappled his wrists.

Elan twisted and forced the handle of his trident against the male’s throat.

He choked.

“You yield,” Elan growled. “Withdraw your army. Leave my young fry and flee for your life.”

“You cannot exist,” Commander Haren hissed. “This city is anathema. Harboring a human monster and calling her a queen? The All-Council will wipe you from the sea floor.”

“Dragao Azul was a faithful city. You forced our rebellion.”

“My warriors died at the Battle for Atlantis because of your betrayal!” Commander Haren snarled.

Elan regretted his role in the Battle for Atlantis. He regretted that Commander Haren’s warriors had suffered for his lack of leadership.

“The world has changed, Commander. You cannot hold a handful of sand in a tsunami. If the All-Council continues this campaign, how many more cities will you turn against you?”

“You will die!”

“We have a queen. Our city will thrive. You lost today.”

The commander swore at him.

Behind Elan, Dragao Azul steadily beat back the invaders. Even outnumbered and harnessed to protecting Zara in their last stand at the Life Tree, they pushed back the fight. The commander had only to give the signal and his foreign males would melt away like mud.

Commander Haren clamped his hands on Elan’s trident. His words vibrated harshly in his chest. “You forget what we have.”

“And what is that?”

Behind Elan, General Iner gripped the throat of a desperately sobbing Zain. “Your young fry.”

Elan snarled. “Your soul is so dark your heart is a hole in your chest.”

“Then you cannot stab it and I am invulnerable.” Iner curled his lip. “You, on the other hand, have a bright heart that is all too vulnerable.”

Elan moved back, removing his trident. Commander Haren shot sideways, kicking beyond the reach of both Elan and the crazed general. He rubbed his throat.

“Gather your warriors,” Iner ordered over Zain’s howls. “Prepare for a second attack.”

“We cannot win,” Commander Haren replied. “These warriors will defend their Life Tree to the last. We have lost any advantage of fear or obedience. They will not yield.”

“I will worry about that. Obey my orders.”

The bloodless commander grimaced and kicked toward Zara. She rested on the dais, on a pile of Sea Opals, next to the fallen king.

Iner turned to Elan.

“He is right,” Elan growled. “We will not stop the fight until every one of you is broken and bleeding, your forces expelled from our territory, the last of your fallen tossed into the blacknight sea.”

“Of course they will stop.” Iner pointed a short blade at Elan. “They will stop when you pick up your trident and stab yourself in that big, bright, beating heart.”

Elan gripped his trident. “Even with my death, you—”

“Your death will grieve your bride. She will release the shield. The Life Tree will fall. Your city will die. The weakness that causes you to grip so tightly onto your brides will dry up, purifying the mer race so only the truly faithful survive.”

“You think we are weak?” Elan shook his head. “The connection I share to Zara makes us strong. My only moment of weakness was believing your All-Council’s lies.”

“Weakness,” Iner dismissed. “The All-Council thinks our race can survive. But they, too, are infected with weakness. Adviser Creo died screaming for the name of his long-lost bride. I will purge all warriors of this human-loving pollution.”

“Your ‘pure’ race will not live a single generation,” Elan returned. “Or did you forget that there are no females beneath the sea besides the brides?”

Iner shrugged. “The mer have been dying for a thousand years. Like Kadir, I see us as the last generation. His vision to embrace modern brides is wrong. We must embrace our true mistress: pure, clean, honorable death.”

He was crazy. But there was a strange sort of logic to his insanity.

Some warriors, like Iner, had survived the Battle for Atlantis by looking on death and falling in love with its seductive promise. No more compromises, no more fighting to hold onto honor in an apparently honor-less world, no more sacrificing sons for fathers. End everything. Cut it all to the barren ground.

“Embrace your death,” Elan told him. “Leave the rest of us to the mess of carving out a good life for our young fries.”

Iner sneered. “That is something you will not experience.”

“Why? Because I will stab myself in my big, bright heart?”

Once, he would have obeyed Iner. His own darkness had made him wish for death many times over. But that time was past.

“No.” Elan turned his trident on Iner. “Now it is time to end your dark fantasy.”

“Stop.” Iner pointed his blade at Zain’s chubby belly. “Suicide on your own trident or watch your young fry get eviscerated.”

Zain kicked and cried.

Elan only felt a sick tiredness. Iner’s brutality had no end. Elan could not allow a male with this dark of a soul to have any measure of success today. His rule was over.

“Suicide.” Iner smiled. “It is the only way to save your young fry.”

Elan cared too much for Zain to become paralyzed now.

“I will twist my blade in your heart,” Elan snarled.

Iner stopped smiling.

He flew at the adviser.

“Die, both of you!” Iner released Zain into the space between them with a shove. Elan checked his throw. Zain kicked, his chubby arms out, straining for his father.

Iner raised his blade to stab Zain through the back.

Elan was too far away to stop him.

“No!” Elan screamed.

His scream of fury rode a wave of teeth-shattering protest from the Life Tree. White sand shimmered around Iner.

Zara.

Iner folded in half and blasted backward as though he had been punched. When he came to a stop, he remained hunched in agony.

Elan scooped Zain up and wheeled to challenge any other warrior who might dare attack his young fry.

Behind the barrier of Dragao Azul warriors, Zara met his gaze. Her focus had only wavered from the Life Tree for one moment. Just long enough to save their son and destroy their enemy. She radiated calm pride.

Pride which he also matched.

With Iner’s immobility, the face of the war changed quickly.

Commander Haren collected his warriors. He faced off against Elan for a long, bloodless glare. “This stay is only temporary. You will face justice.”

Elan held Zain’s small, shivering body in one arm. The other gripped his trident. “We were a faithful city. Remember and beware.”

“I will remember.” Then, he turned away and snapped his order. “Withdraw!”

The remaining invaders broke from the fight and exited the city.

Dragao Azul’s warriors, many carrying new weapons collected during combat, cheered. Then, they turned to former First Lieutenant Elan as if he had never left.

The dangerously injured king was tended by their healer. Warriors removed the serrated saw from the Life Tree anchor and splinted it to regrow strong.

The scarred Atlantean, Faier, remained with them a few hours to assist re-established patrols and order, reasserting defenses lost during the invasion and long occupation. Then, he had to leave in order to participate in the grand start of some event on the surface called a “dating site.”

“First Lieutenant! The army has withdrawn beyond the limits of our territory,” Dosan reported, interrupting Faier’s farewell. “It is unclear which direction they will go.”

“Keep a scout on them,” Elan replied. “If they approach another city and we have the ability to send a warning, do so.”

“There will be larger consequences,” Faier said to him softly. “All-Council armies are headed by insane mer. Other cities will soon realize they must bring in their own queens for safety.”

On the dais, Zara sat stiffly in front of the king. Zain giggled and cooed, happy to be near the kindly male who had raised him during Elan’s long punishment. She was clearly unforgiving about his role in exiling her and trying not to snatch Zain back.

“Thank you for protecting my queen,” Elan told Faier gruffly. Considering Elan’s dishonorable attempts to hurt Faier’s queens, his protection elevated to true heroism. “Should you ever wish to claim a castle in Dragao Azul, you will be an honored citizen.”

Faier smiled, but a shadow of bitterness sharpened its curve. “Atlantis has my loyalty. They claimed me when other cities would not.”

“Then give Dragao Azul the privilege of being your second city.”

Faier blinked. Only a few times in mer history had a warrior earned the honor to be a desired citizen in more than his own city. Even in this dangerous time of lowered populations and empty castles, cities preferred to enforce loyalties and not share. They did not adopt other city’s warriors lightly.

“Thank you,” Faier said, with a note of warning that he was about to deny Elan’s honor.

“If you do not need this privilege, then keep it for your sons.”

He blinked again. “Sons…”

Faier rubbed the harsh scars marring his cheek, ancient puckers like a dry riverbed of past violence. Did he worry a sacred bride would not love to a male with such scars?

Zara had fallen in love with Elan after a single meeting. They connected in their souls. Faier should not fear. He would find a strong, fierce, loving female.

“Thank you,” Faier said again to Elan, focusing on the present, and completed his farewells.

Elan turned to seek Zara. Instead, he was ambushed by elders.

They confirmed what Orol had already shared. After Elan had escaped the Battle for Atlantis, Iner had taken charge. All-Council Adviser Creo’s final commands had been to avenge his death by destroying the cities of the betrayers — Dragao Azul, original home of Elan, Kadir, and Soren, and Sireno, original home of Torun. Regrouping with the remaining armies, Iner had dispatched two units to Sireno and Commander Haren’s and Faro’s units to Dragao Azul.

Had Elan hesitated even a day in Dragao Azul, the army would have been upon him and the city might have been quickly wiped out. Instead, Iner’s grand scheme delayed the city’s punishment until he could assemble “all” of the betrayers — primarily Elan, Zain, and Zara.

“Then we will prepare for a possible return attack once Iner recovers,” Elan decided.

“What about deserters?” an elder asked.

“Accept them. Any warrior who comes to his senses about the All-Council is welcome. We will help him return to his home city wherever it is.”

The elders hummed with dissent. “We did not accept deserters before.”

“We were a ‘faithful’ city before. Now we are anathema.”

The elders flinched. “Perhaps if we sent a delegation to the All-Council explaining the misunderstanding…”

“Or we could cut down our Life Tree ourselves,” Dosan piped up. “Then we would be in compliance.”

The elders glared at him.

“Dosan is correct,” Elan said, forestalling an argument. The sapphire warrior was too outspoken. “For now, we will neither antagonize the All-Council nor will we work with them. They may still seek to wipe us out.”

The elders paled. “So extreme.”

“The king would desire we take the middle ground. He may disagree once he has healed.”

Barely pacified, the elders moved off.

Zara and Zain remained near the king, and now it looked as though he’d gathered enough strength to engage in conversation.

“Thank you for inviting me to stay,” Zara said shortly to the king, her back to Elan, so she was not aware of his approach. “Although you have no say over where I go or what I do. I hope you realize that.”

The king grimaced. “Stay. The All-Council will return.”

So, the king shared Elan’s perspective. He felt calmer that he had directed the elders correctly.

“I’ll do my best,” she replied breezily.

He winced again. “…beg you…”

“No need for begging. I have no interest in watching my son’s city get destroyed. Now, a year ago, I would have vowed my eternal protection, no questions asked. But you lost my loyalty when you kicked me out and deprived me of my family. I reforged my life on the surface. You’re second place.”

Elan’s chest squeezed.

“You’re hurt so I don’t want to upset you,” she told the king in her blunt way. “I’m going to stick around until everyone’s back on their feet. Er, fins. But then I need to check on my sister. She’s going through a lawsuit with my parents right now, and I promised my support. Also, I need to update the other brides about what happened. I kind of left it on a cliff-hanger. They need to know that if they were pushed out of their cities, they have options. It’s okay to be royally angry. And it’s okay to fight.”

“…need fight…” the king agreed shakily.

The healer tried to shush them and end the conversation. “The king agrees many other cities will need queens to help their fight.”

“I understood what he meant,” she returned tartly, refusing to be hushed or moved along. “I want to be sure everyone understands what I mean.”

Elan smiled behind her in silent solidarity.

She glowed as brightly as the Life Tree, pure as a sun, and right now, her words were law.

“I am going to stay here,” she told the king. “I am going to protect the Life Tree and this city because it is my husband’s and my son’s. But I am not going to follow your stupid rules, and you aren’t going to force me.”

The healer vibrated a protest.

Elan lifted his hand in warning. Zara’s words were for the king and interrupting her was rude.

The healer saw Elan’s movement and fell silent.

“No sequestering me inside my husband’s castle, no refusing to let me see or speak with anyone but my husband, no restrictions on when I leave the city or come back.” She ticked off the rules for the king with her fingers. “I’m going to go where I want, when I want, with whoever I want, and you’re going to wish me to have a nice day. Otherwise, I’m leaving and taking my husband and son with me. Forever. Got it?”

The king met her eye. Although his were still red with broken vessels, the gaze that held hers remained authoritative. “I understand.”

She nodded and rose from the dais, her magenta plastic fins clinking against the precious Sea Opals. Zain kicked off and floated up with her as well. They were truly in sync.

“Rest and heal quickly,” she said. “You look terrible.”

An ironic smile twisted the king’s split lips. Surprise at being spoken to as a warrior, and then acceptance. Zara was truly a fighter.

She turned on Elan and her gaze darkened. “There you are. We have to talk.”

And he knew that just because she’d promised the king to remain in the city until he healed did not mean she would be spending that time in Elan’s arms where he most needed her.

Zara had waited her turn to be alone with Elan. Finally, he had come to her. She had things to say and now was the time to say them.

But before they traveled more than a few strokes beyond the Life Tree dais, a group of warriors and a separate group of elders descended on Elan with emergencies only he could resolve.

She bided her time kicking around the central castles with Zain. He was so cute, giggly, and open-hearted. The warriors who passed him softened and smiled, which went a long way to endearing them to her. Sure, they’d saved her so she could protect their Life Tree, but most of them had refused to acknowledge her existence last time she was here — except at the end, when they were all too eager to get rid of her. So, to say she had trust issues with them was putting it mildly.

Apparently Dragao Azul had to take back and rebuild the city, which had been under hostile rule the entire time Elan had been on the surface with her. Warriors had fought back and been forced to flee, and they were already low on population from the lowered birthrates across several generations.

Elan led them without showing any of the resentment that Zara would have felt — that she continued to feel — as he slowly distributed responsibilities.

“I am going to rest with my queen,” Elan told the final warriors just outside his castle. “Dosan is my second. Address any questions to him.”

“Understood!” The last of the warriors nodded at Dosan

Dosan looked surprised. Zara got the idea that he was lingering around Elan because he wanted to ask questions, not because he wanted to be promoted. But he straightened and accepted the instant promotion. “I will serve you with honor.”

Elan noted his reaction. “I am guessing you were not promoted in my absence.”

Dosan grimaced, glanced at Zara, and away. He and his partner, Uvim, had been part of the trio dragging her to the surface a year ago. Unlike bitter, argumentative Soren, they had completed the task looking green the whole time, like they felt as sick as she did, and wanted to throw up.

She’d still hated them, but since they’d been the first warriors to rally to her side during the recent fight, it wouldn’t be as hard to earn her forgiveness.

“No, I did not feel worthy,” Dosan said. “The First Lieutenant was our last trainee. He has been missing since the army arrived.”

Both Dosan and Uvim clenched a fist over their hearts.

Some sort of honor-gesture?

Elan returned it. “Find his body if you can. He was too young. I will hold out the hope he escaped.”

Dosan rolled his lips. Cautioning words vibrated in his chest. “If he is still alive, he will feel cowardly that he did not join in the battle to free Dragao Azul.”

“Convince him to return. We need all good warriors, and it is possible to make a dire mistake but recover an honorable path.”

Dosan nodded with feeling as if Elan had spoken straight to his own heart. The sapphire warrior bid farewell to him and Zara.

But before Elan had done more than turn toward Zara, another group of elders descended.

Elan’s shoulders sagged in exhaustion. He held his hands up in surrender. “Dosan is my second. Direct your questions to him.”

But that was taken as an invitation. They unleashed question after question upon him. And he, responsible as ever, fielded every one.

Zain yawned and fussed. He was probably hungry. Zara was, too.

“Dosan can answer that question,” Elan was saying in response to one elder.

“But what about the original First Lieutenant?” the same elder demanded anxiously. “If he is dead, we must hold the farewell ceremony.”

“We will decide once Dosan has gathered more information about his fate,” Elan said firmly.

“Is he, then, alive?”

Elan’s shoulders rose and fell as though he wanted to let out an exasperated sigh. His tone remained calm and direct. He was her honorable, but world-weary, knight. “Direct that question, and all others, to Dosan.”

“But Elan—”

Zara snapped. “Is your hearing bad? He said to go ask Dosan.”

The elders stared at her, disgruntled and affronted.

“We’re all exhausted. Keeping Zain out here any longer is child abuse.”

One elder harrumphed. “Elan, if your bride needs rest, she may take your young fry while you, as First Lieutenant, remain.”

Elan’s lips twisted to the side. He glanced at Zara in concern.

His concern was completely correct. If she wasn’t so darned tired, she’d blast these insufferable elders to a crisp. Instead, she kept her reprimand short and sweet.

“Two mistakes.”

The elder blinked. “What?”

“You just made two mistakes. First,” she held up one finger, “you need to stop disrespecting Elan.”

He gasped. “You do not comprehend your insult.”

“On the contrary. He told you to go ask Dosan. Ignoring that harasses him and disrespects his orders. Just because you bossed him around for a year doesn’t mean you can continue. As First Lieutenant you owe him your respect.”

All the elders gaped at her. The one who’d spoken out reddened.

“Second,” she held up her other finger, “I’m not Elan’s bride. I’m Dragao Azul’s queen. So you can turn right around and swim out of my sight before I decide the only place we can get some peace and quiet is on the surface. Because believe me, I’ll be taking my oh-so-spiffy queen powers and your First Lieutenant with me. Understand?”

The elders’ shock went on for several long moments. Finally, as though their brains couldn’t process what she’d just said, they looked to Elan.

His lips twitched hard. But he maintained a serious mien. “You heard your queen.”

With shock and clear resentment, the elders left.

She could handle their resentment. Change didn’t happen overnight, and she didn’t really care what they thought of her. However she offended their sense of bride decorum, they’d get over it in the next weeks when she offended them a whole lot more.

“Thank you,” Elan said softly.

She kicked to his side. “You’re not angry?”

“I was under twisted orders for so long I forgot the respect they used to have for me. Perhaps they did too.” He darkened. “Or perhaps they do not believe I am worthy.”

“This city wouldn’t exist without you. You’re more than worthy.”

He lightened. Hope seemed nearer for him now. “Again, thank you.”

“Sure.” She twined their fingers.

His were rough from the battle, newly nicked and scarred. That had to hurt. But he squeezed her back as if only her touch mattered.

Elan placed his palm on the curved outer wall. The castle entrance unfurled like a portal into the long tunnel. The aquamarine-tinted green walls led into a grand courtyard.

The castle was hollow. Ancient rooms were carved into its thick walls, each room like the cell of a plant, carved with windows and doorways.

On the floor, thick loam was planted with vibrant sea vegetables, a rich crop intended to feed a much larger population than just three. She could see already several vegetables she’d enjoyed — coffee-flavored beans, stalks that tasted like spaghetti with red sauce, creamy rhizomes, and sweet leaves.

“This garden has been neglected.” Worry lined Elan’s eyes. “Many crops must be harvested.”

After everything that had happened today, was he seriously worried about gardening?

Zain kicked directly for the sweet leaves.

Elan flew after him. “Do not fill up on the sweet leaves. Consume a balanced portion.”

Ha, he sounded just like a father.

Her belly growled.

She descended, removed her plastic fins, stretched her tired human toes, and joined their harvesting. They settled in to eat.

Elan’s castle octopus slunk out of a hidey hole, rubbery skin chameleon green, eight legs curling in greeting.

“Long time no see,” she told him, and handed over his favorite treat — a scuttling crab.

The octopus carried the crab to his beak and crunched. Several long arms stroked her with thanks, and his skin changed to warm brown and then peaceful white.

They had been solitary companions while Elan had been out on duty. No more! Those days were behind her. Now, Zara would accompany Elan or go out by herself if she wanted.

Still, the octopus would always keep a special place in her heart.

Elan watched her. “Did you know the other queens named their house guardians?”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Unusual sounds: Lassie, Benji, and Scooby.”

“I sense a pattern.”

“Do you? I cannot.”

No, she supposed he wouldn’t.

Her octopus was a bit of a mischievous chameleon, and he had kept her company on many long, boring nights. “Maybe I’ll call ours ‘Wishbone.’”

Zain giggled and kicked for the octopus.

“Respect Wishbone,” Elan said, adopting Zara’s name immediately for the octopus. He split rhizomes to expose the inner fruit. “Do not pull on any arms.”

The octopus scooted away, far too wily for a one-year-old. They played hide-and-seek in the overgrown gardens, leaving Elan and Zara to a moment of peace.

And it was peaceful. The rooms towered to the ceiling, just as she remembered. She had explored all the nooks and crannies, soaking in the history of the castle and memorizing its possessions, losing herself in winding passages and secret cupboards. Although completely enclosed on the bottom of the sea, the walls glowed aquamarine-tinted green, and the water inside felt vibrant, comfortable, and homey.

This was why she had been willing, once, to stay forever. Being confined was boring, but here, in Elan’s castle, was inescapably beauty.

“What is it you wished to say?” Elan’s chest vibrations sounded casual, but the lines around his eyes suggested the question was not.

Okay, time to get it over with.

She set aside her unfinished meal and faced him with the truth he must hear. “You betrayed me.”

He didn’t even blink. “I apologize.”

Wait. He apologized? Huh.

Zara struggled for the correct response. “I expected more resistance.”

“On the surface, I told you that you had no power. That was a lie. I intended to save your life, but deprived you of your right to fight.”

That was exactly what she needed to hear. She just wasn’t ready to hear it like this. “How can I believe you?”

He set aside his meal and floated closer. Knitting their fingers together, he stroked her knuckles with the sensuous, flat side of his thumb.

She shivered with awareness.

“Zara, you know now the power is already in you.”

“It always was.”

“Yes, and it emerged fully at the Life Tree.”

“And on the surface,” she corrected.

He frowned.

“When we were attacked, I shielded you from the dagger.”

He tilted his head.

Her frustration wriggled. “The one guy was going to stab you with his trident, and you dodged, and then he tried to stab you with his dagger, and I protected you, but not hard enough, and so the dagger glanced off my shield and sliced your arm.”

His brows cleared. He remembered.

“I thought, ‘I did it!’ and I was going to do a lot more, but a second later, you said to stop because I didn’t have any power. And so I lost it.”

Shock filled his face. An instant later, he closed his eyes. The weight of betrayal seemed to crush him all over again. He disentangled his fingers and turned away as though he could not bear to face her. “I am a fool.”

That was what she’d expected. Zara rose and floated across the verdant garden. “So you didn’t notice?”

“I acted as though I understood. But I understood nothing.” He held his forehead with both hands. “Truly, I am a betrayer.”

“It’s okay.”

He didn’t reply.

“Honestly, Elan. If I’d been more confident, you wouldn’t have been locked into single-minded protection mode. And if I had been really powerful, I never would have blindly believed you. I would have had more faith.”

He moaned. “I truly failed.”

“Well, again, maybe it’s okay.”

She hated to say that all was well that ended well, but if she’d saved him at the surface, what would have become of Dragao Azul? Wouldn’t General Iner have moved forward with annihilation? And, tied to the Life Tree, would that have been a death sentence for Elan and probably for Zain? Maybe also for her. She didn’t really know how magical human-to-mermaid transforming trees worked.

“You apologized,” she said. “Which, by the way, is more than anybody else has done for the way they treated me in the past, including your king. And that’s all I wanted, anyway.”

He shook his head harder and dropped his hands. His intense aquamarine-flecked eyes were rimmed with red. “How can you forgive me?”

Aw. His seriousness went a long way.

She stroked his rough cheek. “Just don’t forget it in the future.”

“Never.”

“And, there is one other thing.”

She checked on Zain, who had gone suspiciously quiet. He curled up in the sweet leaf patch, his cheek mashed into the ground and his butt up in the air, fast asleep.

Her heart melted.

Wishbone browsed a few feet away, appearing to keep one eye on their baby while his tentacles busily sought crabs.

Elan moved behind her. His arms slipped around her front, securing her to his chest, and his chin rested on the crown of her head.

She leaned against him, soaking up his silent love. “Should we move Zain to another room?”

“He is safe here. The house guardian will protect him from any danger.”

And, if that wasn’t enough, the castle really did have its own protective mechanisms. Sealing off to prevent anyone from entering if necessary.

The night of Zain’s birth, they hadn’t prepared correctly. Distracted by the nervous excitement of the event, Elan had accidentally allowed the unwelcome warriors right into his castle. And Zara had never sensed the invasion.

Now, something had changed.

Zara could feel the protective lines of the castle like threads in the walls, communicating with her and telling her it was safe. If intruders came, they would convey the invasion to her as well. She would never be caught unawares again.

That, perhaps, was another power of the queen. She had never felt so secure.

Reassured, she turned in Elan’s arms. “Take me to the heart chamber.”

With an uncertain, but hopeful, expression, Elan twined his fingers with hers and tugged her through the winding passageways to the inner heart of the castle. The sheltered, shielded chamber opened only to the touch of their hands.

Inside, the vibrant green walls of the castle’s heart were smooth and gently rounded like the interior of an egg. Little sparkles shimmered along the strength lines of the room. They were toned in Elan’s aquamarine and warm golden amber.

She entered.

Elan lingered in the hall.

She turned. They had always had sex — or, in his words, joined — in this chamber.

Did he no longer want her? Had something changed?

She calmed the worry in her belly and outright asked. “Did you not want to join with me?”

“Did you want me to?”

Huh? What was this hesitation?

She rested her feet on the shapeless floor, soft and silky beneath her bare toes. “Yes.”

“Despite my betrayals?”

Oh.

Dark lines creased. But they were not the same dangerous shadows that had lined his face when he’d first surfaced. His soul sickness had healed, and he faced her as a mature male who knew hell and no longer feared it. Changed but whole.

Cautious but hopeful.

Zara bounced across the chamber to him. She slid her hands up his forearms, past his pointy elbows, over the bulges of his powerful biceps. “It’s possible to recover from any mistake.”

His chest shuddered as if releasing a suppressed sob. He dropped his head to her shoulder and pressed her waist-to-waist, chest-to-chest, taking savage comfort in her soft body.

She stroked his waving hair. “We need all the honorable warriors we can get.”

“You are my heart. My honor. My soul.”

He kissed her neck, laving his tongue across her skin as though he couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Desire flooded her, twisting to a sharp ache between her legs.

She pulled him into the chamber. They floated in a safe space that had no up nor down. Her senses filled with Elan.

Single-minded with his passion, he squeezed and sculpted her body as though memorizing her, kissing and sucking down her collar to her breasts. One nipple disappeared into his hot mouth, and then the other. Twin peaks of pleasure ached.

She wanted more. Now.

Zara entwined their legs.

His cock pulsed hot and ready. The tip brushed her throbbing channel.

She made a noise.

His pleasure was too one-sided, too single-minded. She was going to explode any second before she had properly savored him. “I want to put your cock in my mouth.”

With his lips still making love to her swelling nipples, he vibrated a proud smile. “I want that too.”

The familiar delicious arrogance made her clench with new desire. He sounded like him, like her husband who had no cares, her First Lieutenant knight who had never done wrong. Now, he was a warrior redeemed, devoted to worshiping her body, and willing to throw away every other honor for her alone.

They rotated in the water, fitting together mouth to cock to feminine center. Their movements mirrored, synced with their souls.

She pulled his hard member deep into mouth, filling herself with his savory flavor, and felt the answering tug of pleasure between her slick folds. Sucking, teasing, worshiping each other, they chased a mutual possession until the heat drew tight and she fought the urge to explode.

Then, she released him and rotated again, facing his flushed, wild hunger with matching desperation. “I want you inside me.”

His palm cupped her mons.

She moaned and gripped his taut buttocks.

His hard cock rested against her entrance … and slid in to the hilt. Their completion fit together like a key thrusting into its lock, and they both groaned with rightness.

She expected him to thrust crazily, but he simply smiled that arrogant smile and teased her throbbing nipples with his clever fingers while the base of his cock gently kneaded her hot nub.

Upright, tangled together, weightless in the water, they stroked each other with sweet savory patience. Not savage, like the time Elan was trying to rekindle their trust through sex with her. Now he enjoyed her slowly, teasing her with sensual and deeply fulfilling caresses. They had all the time in the world to reach climax. The rest of today and the rest of their lives.

Shuddering ecstasy shivered through her, pulsing higher and higher. He worshipped her, and she truly felt the strength of his love. Unstoppable goodness linked them forever in a universal union of beauty and light.

As her climax mounted, aquamarine and amber sparkles raced around the chamber. They swirled like life and filled her mouth and her soul. The sparkling wave broke over her. She cried out.

He shuddered his release.

In perfect sync, they orgasmed together, finally finding wholeness between their worlds linked as one.

She collapsed and rested her cheek on his shoulder. He trembled in the powerful aftermath.

Their city was liberated. Their family was reunited. Their union affirmed their right to love.

She stroked his back.

He tensed and squeezed her, still recovering his equilibrium. They had both nearly lost everything today. But now they had the rest of their lives to become strong.

“I know we decided not to move Zain,” she finally said, vibrating deep in her chest, “but I want to sleep as a family.”

He lifted his head. “You do not trust Wishbone?”

“No, I know he’s great, but I want to be surrounded by my loves.”

“Then, you shall. Forever and always.”

He eased apart and then flew her to the courtyard. Revitalized greenery shimmered new life in the walls and floors. It was as though the castle itself surrounded them with happiness.

Elan kicked down to Zain, who was still sleeping butt-up in the sweet leaves. Zara made a hollow to rest on one side and Elan did the same on the other. They settled with the baby between them. Elan entwined their hands over Zain, linked.

It felt like lying in a field on a summery day, the sweet taste of the crushed leaves on the back of her tongue like the smell of new-mown hay.

“Thank you for saving the king,” he murmured. “And the Life Tree.”

Because, at one time, she had told him she would have liked to kill them herself. “Your king did love Zain. Although his actions to me were wrong, he treated Zain well.”

“You saved the city.”

It was her son’s city too. And her husband’s. And soon, perhaps, hers.

Elan apparently wanted to talk. He rested on an elbow. “I was too afraid. Afraid for you and Zain. Afraid of failure.”

This did not surprise her.

During her first stay, Zara had wondered about his black-and-white certainty, his overwhelming confidence that bordered on arrogance. Was it justified? Or had he not battled — and lost — to as many over-powering monsters as she had? Now he had battled those undefeatable monsters. The scars would forever be embedded in his hardened soul. She grieved for the illusions he had lost.

But he had survived and grown strong. His I-will-take-care-of-you-so-do-not-try-to-care-for-yourself attitude had departed. Only together could they beat back the real monsters of the world: Crippling, fear-induced self-doubt.

She allowed a rueful smile. “Now you should be more afraid than ever.”

He cocked his brow at her. “Oh?”

“We are the first family to live between worlds. We’re going to be watched.”

“Then our success will encourage other couples.” He squeezed her. “Many will wish to raise their young fry together.”

His tempered arrogance made her smile. Such sweet confidence softened her heart. “I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

The world was changing. Not just Atlantis, not just Dragao Azul. The other cities and the humans, and Zara and Elan, too.

Their love was larger and more important than just themselves. Simply by existing, they proved it was possible for love to overcome any odds. Together, they would make a better future for Zain. A future where he could have the freedom to live as a human or as a mer; to love as a human or a mer. A future where he could chase any dream.

They created a world full of light shining through the darkness.

Zara squeezed Elan’s hand. “We’ll change everything. One white knight and one sacred bride.”

His brows rose. “Did you not hear? You are not my bride.”

Oh yeah. Zara had told the elders she wasn’t Elan’s bride only a few hours ago.

She snorted. “I meant I’m not only your bride.”

“I understood.” Elan smiled over their peacefully sleeping son. “We will change the world as one white knight and one brilliant queen.”

Uvim studied Queen Zara, who was sitting on the dais of the Life Tree with Zain, and struggled to figure out what she was doing or if she needed help.

She rolled mating gemstones into a small pile. Zain pushed them over, and they rolled across the other stones with cheery tinkles. Zain kicked his little fins excitedly. Queen Zara gently pinched his fat stomach, and he wiggled in the water. Heart-warming baby giggles bubbled around him until he drifted beyond the easy reach of her fingers. Queen Zara patiently rolled the stones into another pile, and Zain again knocked them over, this time with fins. She belly-pinched him again. More giggling filled the formal dais with delight.

“What is she doing?” Dosan vibrated quietly as he floated beside Uvim. “Is she…playing?”

That’s all Uvim could think too. Queen Zara smiled softly and her soul light glowed with fierce love.

It echoed in the gentle sway and pleased chiming of the healing Life Tree.

This was the first time in the city’s history that a bride—no, a queen—was able to sit against the trunk and play with her young fry. But there was something so right about it. Like everything about the queens, this scene had faded into legend. But it was no myth. It was real. And seeing it made his heart ache strangely.

“It is strange.” Dosan rubbed his own chest as he used the same word Uvim was thinking. “I know I have never seen this sight before, and yet, it is familiar. Why is that?”

Uvim shook his head. The battered Life Tree still healed from the dark bruises around its numerous cuts, and the Dragao Azul were still searching for warriors not seen since before the invasion, but for some reason, the currents through the city felt fresh. Hopeful. Like, things were finally moving in a positive direction.

“Perhaps there is hope for us yet.” Dosan again echoed his thoughts. This is why they were friends. Dosan suddenly straightened. “Ah, First Lieutenant Elan!”

The First Lieutenant was swimming toward the Life Tree with Xalu, their most honored warrior. Queen Zara scooped up Zain and kicked her awkward human-made fins slowly toward her husband.

“It is much too dangerous for you to leave the city now,” Xalu rumbled. His smoke-colored tattoos accentuated the hollows and divots in his muscles, making him appear even larger and more dominant than he already was. “We have lost some units of the All-Council army. They could be lurking nearby, waiting for their chance to attack.”

“Zara can handle an army.” Elan pulled his wife and young fry son into his arms and glowed with...no, not pride. Or, not only pride. A deep and confident aura of fulfilment that touched the rest of them in their cores. “The city is vulnerable, not our queen. That is why you, Xalu, will remain here, safeguarding our king and our Life Tree, until we call for you. What is it, Dosan?”

“First Lieutenant, the elders are in agreement with Warrior Xalu." Dosan swam forward, bold and outspoken and everything Uvim was not. "They insist that you remain in the city.”

First Lieutenant Elan lifted a brow. “Oh, they do, do they?”

“Failing that, they insist you remain on our sacred island, not flying like a bird to distant places. They have no confidence in the ‘cell phone in a beach-side lockbox’ communication system you proposed, and anyway, they do not wish for a warrior to expose himself by walking across the shoreline to use such a cell phone to contact you.”

“I see.” He tried to remain serious as his young fry grabbed and handful of hair and tugged. Queen Zara quickly captured Zain's baby fist and tried to work his fingers free, murmuring gently. Elan floated with amusement, his attention divided. “And what did you say?”

“I said that you spent many 'days' on the surface, and if you had confidence we could operate this cell phone, then the elders should keep their ignorant complaints to themselves. So they said I should go to the surface myself and prove your confidence was well-founded.” Dosan puffed out his chest. “I am happy to obey your orders and do so.”

First Lieutenant Elan shared a glance with Queen Zara. They often seemed to communicate without speaking. She got her finger into the young fry’s hand and released the clump of hair. Elan rubbed his head and then he repeated the gentle pinching that made his son giggle. Despite the tense topic, the entire ocean lightened, and even though this kind of talk had so often ended in shouts and threats and posturing, now, it felt like everything would be okay.

Elan returned to Dosan and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for your volunteerism, but I need a warrior like you here in the city. A warrior who will do the right thing while I am gone, and who will make the others hear him, even if your words are not what they want to hear.”

Dosan’s soul burned brighter. “I understand.”

“I knew you would. That is why I have chosen Warrior Uvim to take the first shift on this duty.”

But worry seeped into Uvim. It's not that he was concerned about the duty. He would learn to operate the cell phone, somehow. It was the sudden implication. If only trusted warriors were left here in the city, what did that mean for warriors who were sent away from it?

Xalu frowned heavily. “One warrior is not enough for such an important position. I will also surface and learn this new communication system.”

“You will surface,” First Lieutenant Elan told him. “But not now, and not as a messenger. You are long overdue for claiming your bride. I believe your blossom will grow as soon as the Life Tree has fully healed. Meanwhile, Zara will reconnected with her human friends. You will rise and claim Dragao Azul’s first modern bride under the new order.”

Xalu inclined his noble head, but he had been disappointed for so long that he showed little reaction.

Uvim also understood.

Despite seeing Queen Zara and young fry Zain here, right in front of him, the idea that such happiness might also be his…

No. It was impossible.

First Lieutenant Elan was special. A truly honorable warrior. He’d been through so much, and defied the All-Council, and wooed his queen not once, but twice. Who among them could claim such rebelliousness, such loyalty to his bride, such dedication to a vision everyone else had already rejected as anathema?

This current was too new, too unstable. Wasn't it more likely the All-Council’s power would return? They would come back not to destroy Dragao Azul but to welcome it back under the old rules, and the elders would gratefully accept. This brief glimmer of a future would be snatched away from Xalu, and the warrior's dreams would always remain reflections on the surface, never breached.

Dosan and First Lieutenant Elan spoke more of their plans for managing the city and patrols in his absence. Xalu waited for a pause, and finally spoke directly to Queen Zara. “Is there anything I can do or say to apologize for my role in your exile? I was not here, I hope you are not leaving us now because of our actions.”

Queen Zara blinked in surprise. Elan cut off his conversation mid-sentence. Even their young fry quieted and snuggled into his mother’s arms.

“I appreciate your apology,” she vibrated finally, smoothing Zain’s wild hair as she cradled him. “But we’ve already stayed longer than I wanted. You have responsibilities to this city, and I have responsibilities on the surface. We have to go.”

He inclined his head, again noble.

“I apologize as well,” Dosan vibrated. “I have long wished I could undo my actions. Do not forgive me. I will never forgive myself.”

Uvim nodded hard. This was exactly what he felt as well. Queen Zara did not have to forgive them because he would never truly forgive himself for the pain he had caused when he'd thought he had no choice.

“You’ve already apologized,” she reminded Dosan. “And I’ll never be the person I was before the incident, but I’m willing to forge a new relationship with any warrior who apologizes.”

All the words jumbled in Uvim’s chest. I knew your pain. I felt it in my soul. And if I could take it away so only I remembered it, for the rest of my days, I would take it on and never feel a moment of happiness again. I am so sorry. Please, I am so sorry.

But the words would not come out. His chest remained still, silent. The words were unsaid, and his heart squeezed viciously.

Her fierce gaze slid to Uvim, waiting.

Blood beat in his ears. Heat warred with cold. The contents of his stomach rose to the back of his throat with harsh acid that made his eyes burn.

Just speak. Speak. What was wrong with him? Speak the words so she can hear...

Her eyes narrowed, but more than that, her soul light brightened with her anger. "Elan."

First Lieutenant Elan rubbed her shoulders. "What is it?"

“Your warriors are hoping for brides, but if any of them is unwilling to say even a basic ‘I’m sorry' for what they did to us, I don’t want them considered for a bride.”

“Understood." He tucked her against his chest. "The elders have already had their brides, though.”

“Mm.” Queen Zara’s gaze returned to Uvim like a gut-punch. She rotated deeper into Elan’s arms, away from Uvim, and settled Zain between them. “Let’s get on our way.”

They swam together, a glowing family, toward the king’s castle.

Uvim’s ears still pulsed with the drumbeat of his blood. His trident shook in his hands. He held it against his chest, swallowed convulsively.

Xalu glanced at Uvim and then kicked toward the barracks to check his patrols.

Dosan rested his hand on Uvim’s shoulder. “She knows of your regrets. You are not the one she meant.”

He nodded, even though Dosan was wrong.

“You should try to say the words, though.” Dosan squeezed his shoulder, then kicked to the castle after Elan's family.

Uvim had to say the words.

But he couldn’t.

Queen Zara would never forgive him.

And she was right not to.

He didn’t deserve forgiveness.

There was something wrong with him. There had been his whole life. He was unworthy. That’s why he suffered this affliction.

He was silent when he should speak. He floated when he should act. He obeyed when he should rebel.

That’s why he could be sent away from the city. He couldn’t represent First Lieutenant Elan well like Dosan could. He might as well float in an echo point, all alone, listening to the messages of others and never sending any himself. That was where a warrior like him belonged.

Queen Zara's warning was pointless. Even if he surfaced a thousand times, he could never be chosen by a loving bride…