Elan, former First Lieutenant of the undersea city Dragao Azul, floated just beneath the dazzling waves in a state of exhaustion mixed with terror.

Before him spread the crowded shoreline of the island chain the humans called the Azores.

This was the second time he’d surfaced here. The first time had been in a sacred ceremony with only a few witnesses, as it should be. This time was vastly different. He’d never wanted to expose himself to many people. Even though the mer’s existence was no longer a secret, the rules around remaining hidden beat in his blood, and it took him a moment to steel himself.

The precious bundle in his arms shifted, increasing both his terror and his determination. He’d come all this way. He didn’t know how close his pursuers were behind him. He couldn’t hesitate long. His time was running out.

Elan kicked forward, breaking through the final barrier into the air. He let the water gush out the gills in his back and then coughed the remainder from his lungs as the gills sealed over, transforming his torso into fully human. He kicked his two mer legs, his foot fins propelling him toward the shallows. Then he retracted his fins, shifting them to human toes, and put his weight onto the shifting sands.

As he emerged from the water, the humans became aware of him. Humans shied away, summoned their children, and drew back in fear.

Lights glowed in their chests, some brighter and some dimmer, based on their shock. Humans were unable to control their soul lights they way mer were, probably because they couldn’t see them as warriors could.

Waves smashed against his thighs, and he dropped his trident out of the tucked position against his body and gripped the smooth-gnarled coral, using it for balance. Normally he wouldn’t need it, but he couldn’t risk his precious bundle.

That precious bundle grew much heavier above the water. It shook and coughed, made a wail that cut off, then wailed again. He bounced the bundle, and the discordant sound quieted. Elan took his own deep breaths, grateful. Although he hadn’t thought there would be any problems with shifting, he’d worried all the same.

He stumbled, exhausted, across the sands toward the grassy headland. He approached humans intending to ask his questions, but they scattered in fear before he could make any sound. He kept going doggedly.

Everything would be fine as soon as he found her. He just had to find her. She would happily embrace him and the past year would melt away. Everything would be right again.

These were the thoughts that had driven and sustained him across the ocean from the battlefields to here.

He just had to find her. She would be so happy to see him. She would throw her arms around him and kiss him and be so violently happy...

A group of blue-uniformed human warriors surrounded him.

He stopped.

“What are you?” an officer asked him in a familiar language. “What are you doing here?”

Elan formulated his answer. Portuguese was the second language he’d learned, after the native language of the long-gone sacred brides who had once dwelled on these islands. He was more practiced with the more recent addition to their training, English, but he knew Portuguese well enough.

“I am a warrior of Dragao Azul, and I seek the woman known as Zara Robertson.” He straightened and threw out his scarred chest, the aquamarine tattoos gleaming. “She is my bride.”

* * *

Zara Robertson hung her newest “art therapy” watercolor in the window. Light shone through the thin paper. The dramatic splashes of red and blue were abstract enough that only her therapist would be able to guess it was titled, “Mermen Don’t Exist, Part 14.” She tilted it and stepped back, appreciating the placement.

The problem with living in the Azores was that almost everywhere had a sea view. But with this, her most recent masterpiece, she’d now completely blocked any hint of the ocean from the living room.

“Um, Zara…” Her younger sister Milly came to the doorway. “Didn’t you hear the phone?”

Zara had ignored the ancient landline. “No one needs to talk to me.”

“Well, in this case, actually…oh, that’s new.”

The art was a new thing. Her therapist was frustrated with her, and Zara understood why. When she’d first shown up in the psych ward, everyone had thought she was bonkers for insisting she’d been kidnapped and held hostage by a fantasy creature.

It never happened, they’d told her. Your brain is tricking you. Mermen don’t exist.

She’d wanted to believe it.

If it had been a nightmare, then no real person had ever gotten hurt. The screaming, blood, and clinging onto tridents begging for her husband’s life were figments of her imagination. She’d been in a boating accident, hit her head on a rock, and hallucinated everything. She could forget the bad images—which had never happened!—and move on with her life.

But a few months into her recuperation, mermen had surfaced off the Gulf of Mexico. Everyone had realized they were real, including her doctors. She’d been forced to relive the truth, not fantasy, and to go through the trauma all over again. And after the second time, she’d developed a bit of a chip on her shoulder.

If healing required her to relive the worst moments of her life over and over again, Zara gave up on it. She rejected “getting closure” and “moving on.” Her current plan was total avoidance. In an ideal world, she’d move to Nebraska or North Dakota or some completely landlocked state.

But Milly didn’t want to move. Her reasons were suspicious but Zara owed her little sister a lot, so she sucked it up. Blocking out the ocean would make avoidance a little easier, she reasoned.

Zara missed the era when she’d almost been talked into believing it had never happened. For hours at a time, she’d had some peace.

Milly gestured behind her. “Anyway, the phone call was from the polícia actually.”

“They can’t catch the perpetrators underwater, so I don’t see any point in going down to the station to describe them again.” Zara crossed her arms proudly. “These watercolors are okay, right? They let in the light, so I’m not hiding away in total darkness.”

“Yeah, they’re okay.” Milly’s tone implied the opposite, however. “What’s the theme this time?”

“‘Mermen Don’t Exist, Part 14’.”

“Ah.” Milly bit her lip. “About that…the polícia called because they’ve caught a merman on our shore.”

Zara froze.

Nerves jangled across her torso like live electrical wires yanked apart and arcing electricity through her organs. They sparked in every direction, making her muscles twitch and spasm. A dull ache thudded in her head and the phantom pains coiled in her belly.

She hugged herself to keep everything contained, forcing it all in with sheer will. “They’ve been surfacing all over the world. That has nothing to do with me.”

“It does, actually.” Milly held her gaze with worried eyes. “He’s asking for you by name.”

He’d come for her.

Elan.

The past year ripped away from her like thin tissue paper. It had all just happened. All of it. It was real.

Shock and horror welled up like a tidal wave. She couldn’t breathe. Zara stood frozen, unable to even blink away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

She held her ground until the wave receded.

“…can tell them you can’t come right now,” Milly was saying as Zara came back into her body and consciousness. “You’re so pale. Are you listening to me? I really think you should lie down.”

Lying down sounded good. She could pretend to be sleeping instead of disassociating.

Zara didn’t need to heal. She didn’t need closure. She wanted to avoid everything.

But there was a pulse inside her, a little seed hidden inside the cage of lightning, that pressed outward.

You can’t live this way. It’s been a year. For good or ill, this is your chance for change.

She’d suffered so much.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Zara sucked in a long breath, strode forward, and ripped down the watercolors.

Milly gasped.

The papers crumpled and tore, dropping from her fingers in shreds.

Zara stared at the distant ocean. If art therapy didn’t work, maybe shock therapy would. “Take me to him.”

* * *

Elan’s warrior instincts prickled as he stood on the beach surrounded by humans.

“Zara,” he told the serious, uniformed men and women. “You must bring Zara Robertson here at once.”

The man in charge continued speaking into his remote communication device about something called Border and Immigration Patrol.

Elan’s free hand flexed for his trident.

As a show of faith, he’d released his weapons to these uniformed polícia, but the longer they detained him, the more sharply he missed his tools.

The humans had given him an orange covering. He’d managed to balance and step into the “swim shorts” while still holding his precious, seaweed-wrapped bundle close to his heart.

Beyond the police barrier, a crowd of humans craned their necks to see him.

This exposure was intolerable.

Where was his bride?

For a thousand years, the mer race had lived beneath the oceans surfacing only to claim sacred island brides—who were also sworn to keep their existence secret—and descending again to the hidden depths. Then, less than a year ago, modern humans had captured video of mermen and displayed it on a worldwide announcement platform known as “Facebook” and their secret was exposed.

The ruling All-Council had ordered the mer to act as if the reveal had never happened and humans were still unaware of their existence. Some cities had rebelled, but most, like Dragao Azul, still obeyed the All-Council. Elan’s appearance here, on the shore, was an unforgivable offense.

But it would all be worth it as soon as he was reunited with his bride…

Suddenly, a shiver of awareness slid up his spine.

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

He flushed with awareness. “Zara!” He strode forward.

The polícia blocked him. “Stop there.”

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

She crossed the beach.

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 cupped 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 although it had taken him a year, he announced proudly, “I have come for you.”

His words seemed to pierce her through the heart.

She stopped.

Out of his reach.

His gut clenched. “Zara?”

Her eyes unfocused.

“Come to me.” He held out his free hand, commanding her to bridge this distance and to light back onto fire. “Come now.”

She stared at him like she didn’t know him.

Fear sliced into him.

Something was very wrong with Zara.

He started forward again, needing to heal her, to understand, but the polícia held him back.

The human in charge stole her attention. “This man claims to be your husband.”

“She is my bride,” Elan confirmed. “We are soul mates.”

The humans ignored him.

Zara’s throat worked. She seemed to be forcing the words out from a very great distance. “Undersea marriages aren’t recognized in any country.”

The human looked shocked. “But you are married? According to his people?”

She refocused on Elan. Her soul was dark and cold and completely cut off from him. “Am I?”

“We were married,” he affirmed.

“Are we still?” she asked Elan. “Even now?”

He wanted to lie. This wasn’t how he’d imagined their reunion at all.

But he could never lie to her.

“Not officially. Your name was struck from our records.”

She nodded slowly, and her brilliant soul dimmed.

“But I do not care about that. Our souls are one. Your soul glows only for…” Elan faltered because her soul had dimmed in his presence, which should never happen. “…only for me, as my body and soul are only for you.”

She acted as if she didn’t hear him. The humans called her over to one side. Zara turned away tiredly and spoke with them, ignoring him entirely.

His throat tightened.

Zara was right in front of him.

He craved to enfold her in his arms. Caress her skin. Fill his senses with his luscious bride, and fix whatever was wrong with her.

She walled him off.

And while he was standing there on the beach, having come all this way to find her, she started walking away.

He forced the words through the tightness. “Zara! I kept my promise!”

She stopped, stiff. “No. You didn’t.”

“I told you I would come for you and I have come! Do not slink away.”

Her tone sharpened. “Slink?”

“This vacation in the air world is over!”

She half-turned and choked out, “Vacation?”

“You have relaxed long enough among your human friends. It is time to take up your responsibilities as a bride of the mer.”

She turned slowly, the light burning brighter and brighter. Her wide, beautiful eyes snapped with fury.

Fury wasn’t ideal, but he would say, promise, become anything to keep that light glowing. “Now acknowledge me, your husband, and once more come to my side as my bride!”

“Do you have any idea…?” She stalked toward him, passing the polícia as if they didn’t exist, and stopping directly in front of him. “The audacity of what you’ve just said?”

“Zara—”

“You say you kept your promise.” Her words were sharp and bitter, but her soul glowed harshly. “You promised I could stay with you after our time underwater was up. You promised no one in your city would dare to drag me up to the surface. You promised if they tried that you’d protect me. And what happened?”

The scars of that night still crisscrossed his exposed chest.

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

“I will not fail again.”

“Once I believed everything you said.” She swallowed hard. “Your people stole my trust. They stole my innocence. And on top of that, they stole my son. Our marriage is over. I want you to leave here and never come back.”

“Zara—”

“No honeyed words, no earnest promises. Your words mean nothing to me now.”

He deserved this. He’d had an entire year to look back at the actions leading up to that one night and cringe. If he could go back in time, he’d strangle his naïve past self.

“You can’t say anything that will change my mind,” Zara told him, once more turning away.

“I brought him.”

Zara froze. Her voice came in a whisper. “Zain?”

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

Round and chubby, Zain stared at his mother for the first time since the night of his birth 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.

“How…?” Zara’s voice broke.

So did Elan’s heart. “It was not easy.”

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 choked. “He has fins. He’s…”

“Yes. This is his first time above the water. He must learn how to shift.”

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…touch him?”

“Of course.”

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

He studied her with his dark baby eyes.

But somehow, this was too big a shock for her. Elan’s formerly strong, fierce bride couldn’t handle meeting their son. Zara’s soul light flashed erratically, then darkness covered her chest like clouds.

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 bounced Zain trying to bolster the baby with his own strength while he encouraged Zara. “Steel yourself, Zara, you must not frighten—”

Zara’s soul extinguished, plunging her into the pit of blackness as her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees buckled.

Elan stepped forward and caught her in his free arm, holding her tightly around the waist. Her soft hip meshed his and her delicate hand rested on his shoulder. She collapsed against his shoulder and sagged against him.

Finally she was where she belonged, but she was unstable. So unstable.

He stroked her hip gently with his thumb. “Everything is okay now. We are together. I will protect you, and you will protect us.”

Her chest heaved. Her heartbeat fluttered. The light returned within her, but it was just a glimmer.

Her soft hip pressed against his. Her full breasts pillowed his bicep and pearled nipples teased his chest. She belonged in his arms. He would fix her piece by piece. Somehow.

“Come back to me,” he murmured. “You are the only home that matters. I have thrown everything else away. You are the anchor I need.”

She sucked in a huge, shaky breath and got back her balance. “I will never forgive you.”

He met her gaze soberly. “I accepted that long ago.”

“I could have stayed numb. I didn’t want to feel anything ever again.”

“You cannot forget our passion.”

She licked her lips, then averted her eyes in an uncharacteristic manner. “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. He wanted her skin in his mouth, sensitized by his tongue, while his cock plunged into her slick wetness.

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.

She stopped him, cupping his jaw. Her whisper emerged as a desperate, hungry plea. “I’ve forgotten.”

“Remember. Now.”

“I…” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as though savoring him. “No. I 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 an unbreakable vow 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.

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 his 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.

A dark, twisting, shameful ache rose inside her as she looked at him. She had failed to protect him, too. 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. “Steady yourself. Where is your calm?”

His words snapped her back to anger. “Gee, I wonder?” she muttered, cinching an arm around her waist to keep her eviscerated feelings from spilling out.

Elan’s jaw tightened.

The anger helped steady her, but it wasn’t what she wanted. 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 from her in fear.

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

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

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

Zain whimpered, reacting to her.

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

Zara hardened herself.

She wouldn’t frighten her son. She wouldn’t reach out for him or 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 barrier grew louder and the island polícia, behind her, discussed what to do with Elan and Zain.

The head officer asked Milly in excellent, nearly accentless English about where they were staying.

“We have a small house,” Milly answered. “Why?”

“He is the first merman to request asylum, so this matter could take some time. It may need to go in front of the President. We do have a detention facility.”

“They can’t stay in a detention facility,” Zara told the officer. “They’ll stay with us. We have to work out a custody arrangement for Zain.”

“The baby is not human,” the officer noted.

“He’s half human,” Zara objected. “And he’s half mine. He’s breathing air, isn’t he? He just needs time to change his fins to feet.”

The officer took down their information and made an appointment for processing later. Zara managed to keep it together until they finished. The polícia made a corridor for them to go to Milly’s car.

Elan’s existence filled her with so many emotions she couldn’t stay calm. Half of her wanted to run away. The other half wanted to scream at him until she passed out, again. The dull aches and pains were nothing to the raw pain just waiting on the edges of her consciousness. She had to armor herself with something, indifference or anger, because if she let herself truly feel for him again it would lead to madness.

Besides, she couldn’t let him back in. Not ever. Because if she ever lost him a second time, her mind wouldn’t survive.

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.

This also 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 imagined her holding him tightly, shining with the brightness of a hundred suns, smothering him with fierce kisses, and sparkling with their rekindled dreams.

Instead, his wife was shut up tight. A hard shell without any cracks, cold on the outside, like the dead. She wanted him gone and she didn’t know what terrible things he’d done since they’d been forced apart. How would she react once she knew?

Zain whimpered.

Ah, Elan’s own soul light must be darkening. That was worse than a reprimand for a baby. Zain couldn’t understand what he had done wrong to cause his parents’ dark feelings.

Elan controlled his emotions with iron focus as he rubbed Zain’s back through the seaweed, shushing and calming him. Dark thoughts hurt everyone. He needed to show Zara his grit. She would fall in love with him again, and then they would be a family.

He swore it.

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

Some warriors might be upset to hear their treasured bride offering had been given away, but Zara had unapologetically told him 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 the people she loved.

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.

Dark shadows curled around his heart and doubts dripped like poison into his blood.

Zara opened his door and helped unbuckle Elan’s seatbelt.

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.”

“No, that was my fault,” he told her gruffly, stepping out of the car with Zain. “It was not you.”

She didn’t look as though she believed him.

“It was me,” he repeated and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Touching her made the dark fears plaguing him recede. “He is sensitive. Our adjustment will take time.”

“Okay. I’m just…Okay.” Zara closed the car door, crossed the dark gravel, and pushed open the thick, brown door. “This is the kitchen. It has fire. If you need something, ask.”

“I can learn about fire.”

“Maybe later.” She avoided his gaze, again. “The living room is through here.”

This house had 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 was tucked into a small, enclosed loft. On the ground floor, well away from the other rooms, was Zara’s bedroom. Inside, dusky furniture and quiet paint submerged the space in muted gray.

Zara paused in front of her doorway. “You can sleep here.”

“In your room?” He took that as a good sign.

“I’ll be in Milly’s,” she replied sharply.

He rested a palm on the doorframe and leaned over her. “It’s not like you to run away.”

Her nostrils flared and her pupils dilated. “I’ve changed.”

Even though her mind refused him, her body remembered their passion. If only her body remembered, he would start there. Slowly, he would rebuild her trust until all of her was filled with desire for him.

“Change back,” he ordered.

Her hot gaze trailed down his arm, across his flexed pectorals, across his bare torso. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

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. “No.”

And he felt a little zing of frustration. Probably part of the problem was exhaustion. He’d gotten energized when they first met, but now, it was seeping back in and interfering with his patience.

Zara frowned at the seaweed. “Is that Zain’s blanket?”

“You know we do not have blankets.” Elan had woven in a sling to keep Zain close and sheltered during their trip. “He does enjoy curling his fingers in the weave.”

“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 the 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. He’d never been in such shallows before. His gills appeared and disappeared in his lower back and he coughed, then bubbled cheerfully. His baby fins scooped the liquid.

She softened. “He looks so natural in the water.”

“Yes.” Elan eased behind her, and when she did not pull away, he slipped his fingers into her lax hand. “But he will soon learn to dwell in both worlds.”

“How soon can he shift his fins to feet?”

Elan didn’t know. They didn’t usually train babies to shift, only much older youths bordering on adulthood. “He must practice.”

She watched, transfixed.

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.

Then, suddenly and without warning, her light darkened and she stiffened in his arms.

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 today?”

“No.” He hugged her for asking, for caring. “Not for today.”

Her fingers curled around his.

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

But she pulled away to look him in the eye, her soul flaring with anger. “But you took a year to come to the surface?”

He reluctantly let her go. “I should have come sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?”

His mouth opened to answer, but the weight of his choices and mistakes dragged down his tongue, and he closed his mouth again.

Her sharp eyes narrowed.

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, and an honorable warrior touched no other female.

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

Milly lifted a brow, confused by them. “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 the small metal device he’d overheard them discussing as her “phone.” “And I’m heading to the market. Does Zain need formula?”

Zara turned to Elan expectantly.

“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. “What did you feed him after you sent me away?”

His chest squeezed. “I did not send you away.”

“You told me it would happen and then did nothing to prevent it, so it’s the same thing.”

“No one could have predicted that our elders would violate their long-standing tradition—”

“Except I predicted it. I said what we should do, and you didn’t listen—”

A baby’s wail cut off their argument.

Zara’s eyes widened. Pain flashed across her face, echoing the darkness in her chest. She started toward Zain.

But Zain twisted away from her and lifted his arms to Elan, urgent. Zara stopped short.

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

Zain quieted.

Zara stared at them both with white, pinched lips.

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

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

“So, you want me to stop at the fish market? Or do you mean like fruit, sausage, Frosted Flakes…?”

He had no idea. “Yes, human food.”

Milly looked less and less reassured.

“Get whatever you were planning for your weekly shopping trip,” Zara told her younger sister. “Just get more.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? He’s only a year old.”

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

At least she still had that much faith in Elan’s abilities.

“I will hunt,” he confirmed.

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

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

Zara suddenly frowned and walked out of the bathroom.

“Diapers?” Elan repeated following her. “What are these?”

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

“Clothing is constricting and unnecessary for a baby, Zara.”

She eyed him. “Oh?”

“Zain is still adjusting to the surface. Do not force your traditions on him too early.”

“Human babies wear diapers from birth.”

“I know what Zain needs.”

She crossed her arms. “And I don’t?”

“I have raised him longer.”

“And whose fault is that?” she snapped.

Curse his words. “I am his father, and I know this ‘diaper’ is unnecessary.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

A trickle of warm-body-temperature liquid soaked into Elan’s shirt and shorts, and then trickled down his thigh to pool on the smooth living room floor.

Zara’s lips pressed together tightly, then she managed to say, with suppressed emotion, “Unnecessary, huh?”

“We do not do such things underwater,” he insisted, as Zain continued releasing his bladder. “Even babies know not to do this in a living area.”

“Maybe babies on the surface are a little different,” Zara said. “I don’t have much practice, but at least I have some maternal instincts.”

“What are those?”

Her mouth opened and closed. Her anger drained away.

“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, again. He didn’t understand this new feeling he got from her. She looked and seemed the same, and he’d start feeling comfortable and reassured, but then she got like this, different somehow, and it reminded him of just how much had changed. It disturbed him.

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 Elan carried their dripping son out to the back patio, 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. Taking this small action to care for him felt … how did it feel? Like a first step?

So, maybe this feeling was happiness?

She’d suppressed her feelings for so long, and now they 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 when he’d instantly been proved wrong 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 body, nude. The intricate aquamarine tattoos shimmered in the sun. 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 away.

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 when they first met. Zara had wanted to save and heal his race—and him.

And now he’d come to her, broken again, and she needed to—

Wait.

She slapped the soapy rag into the bucket.

She needed to forget it.

She was not falling for him again. Zara was unwell. She was in no state to get betrayed again by Elan or by her own heart.

She stowed the cleaning supplies, selected a blue and white sailor suit onesie, and carried it with some snacks outside.

Zain lay on his back 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 powerful shoulders, narrow torso, grippable buttocks, and rippling limbs were hard and dreamy and somehow, even after a year, all hers…

She turned away from the mouth-watering sight and set her wooden tray on the homey glass table. She poured fruit juice into a plastic sippy cup. Wasn’t she supposed to water it down? Too much sugar wasn’t good for babies. She poured in some water, put on a lid, and offered the cup to Zain.

Zain pushed away from her in refusal.

She sucked in a breath. Give him time. She repeated that as she poured an adult glass for Elan, then offered him leftovers—the last scrapings of a tub of soft cheese, a few crunchy crackers, and the ubiquitous fresh island bananas Milly was always buying.

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

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

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

“How far behind are your pursuers?”

The dark shadows under his eyes lengthened, and he angled away. “Perhaps there are no pursuers.”

She crossed one scarred knee over the other. “How often has ‘lying to my face’ been the right choice?”

“I do not know for certain…” He frowned and changed his answer. “They would risk leaving the water and exposing themselves.”

“The beaches are empty at night.”

“Then they would have to find us. The route of Milly’s car should be impossible for a warrior to follow.”

“Should be?”

“I cannot imagine how to follow it. We do not have the skill to understand the currents. And the warriors of Dragao Azul are still traditional. They will not expose themselves to humans for any reason, not even to recapture me and Zain.”

So, as long as he and Zain stayed away from the ocean, they should be safe. Zara sipped her drink. The passion fruit juice was sweet and cool, but she barely tasted it. “Do you want to tell me how you escaped now?”

“No.”

Well, she could understand wanting to avoid the trauma more than anyone.

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 with our 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 every day for the past year. And just imagining we can be a family again ignores the reality that your entire race is trying to force us apart.”

“Not my entire race.”

“But most of them. Asking me to forget the past year is cruel. Bringing Zain when we both know if we lower our guard for an instant he’s going to be ripped away, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“No, that is not true.” Elan crossed the distance between them and tugged her into his arms. “There is something you can do.”

“It’s the same as before.”

“It is different.” He stroked her hair, cupped her cheek. Sincerity burned bright in his eyes. “I will tell you everything that happened after we parted, but the most important thing is this. I witnessed human brides channel the power of their city’s Life Tree.”

Zara remembered the beautiful Life Tree that was the center of Dragao Azul. All the city’s castles, including Elan’s, were part of the same massive plant. They were anchored into the ocean floor in concentric circles with the pure white Life Tree glowing like a sun in the center.

“They used this power to shield their warriors and even to push back against attackers. They fought off an entire army. Just three brides did this. They tapped into the ancient power of queens to save their warriors and their young fry.”

“You saw them? Where?”

“It does not matter. I learned you have this power within you. You simply have to 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.”

Fear sliced into her. “But that’s where your pursuers are.”

“If you can make your powers, you can drive them off.” 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 weren’t missing any entertainment.

But when Elan said it, the same little seed in her heart pressed against its restraints.

You knew the truth a year ago. You are destined to change the rules as a queen.

But she couldn’t accept it.

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

“If I have that power,” she said slowly, lifting her eyes to meet his. “Why couldn’t I use it to save you and Zain?”

His expression flattened.

“I don’t believe you.” She tried to pull free.

He resisted. “It is possible for you, Zara, if you only believe in—”

“How can that be possible?” she demanded fiercely. “If I couldn’t channel it the night I most wanted to protect you, how could I do it on a random Tuesday?”

“You must believe—”

“Just ‘believe’ I can alter the physical laws of reality?” She crossed her arms. “Are you actually serious? Did you see these powers? With your own two eyes?”

“I witnessed these powers.”

“Okay, if you’re sure it wasn’t a trick then were these really ordinary women at the start? Weren’t they already exceptional?” Her voice went high and thready as the implications sliced into her. “It’s more than they just had to believe in themselves. They must’ve done something to become powerful. Because you can’t be saying that I didn’t try hard enough, I didn’t want to save—”

Her voice broke.

Elan crushed her to his chest.

She barely felt it. The world faded away as she retreated into herself.

Zara was not special. She did not get magical powers just from wishing it. That did not happen in the real world. Elan’s city was full of deadly warriors. Underestimating them could cost lives.

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

“Zara.” Elan’s voice rumbled, reassuring, and his lips moved against her hair. “All you must do is believe—”

“No.” She pulled back and 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-threaded gaze burned. “I will convince you.”

“Never again.” Zara stormed inside the house.

Milly dropped bags on the dining table chairs. “Whew! Here are clothes. I accidentally glanced onto the back patio and I think I saw everything. I mean, everyone.”

“Sorry. The mer don’t care about nudity.”

“That’s for sure,” Milly murmured.

Zara 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 who’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’d probably want to spend the first night alone.”

“Ugh, when you put it like that, I’m glad she invited us.”

Milly looked at her strangely. “Your missing husband and baby emerge from the sea and you don’t want to spend your first dinner with them as a family?”

“But we’re not a family. Zain’s terrified of me and Elan’s delusional.”

“Once, you said he was your soul mate.”

“That was a long time ago.” Zara gripped the clothing bag tight enough to crumple it. “I feel nothing for him now.”

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

His hard physique was deliciously outlined against the now sunny skies. Including his massive, thick cock she knew far too well.

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.

Zara glared at him.

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.

Memories were funny things. They could evoke the same physical response as if she were actually attracted to him.

Zara squeezed her thighs together. She was absolutely not affected by him. She brought him the clothing bag. “Put these on.”

“Is your sister unwell?”

“She’s perfectly fine. Nudity in front of other humans is considered 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. “Are there any other rules I should be aware of?”

“Oh, tons.”

“I will try to learn.” He frowned. “Please convey a proper apology.”

“A normal apology is fine.” Zara grabbed the sailor suit onesie and pushed past him. “I’ll put on Zain’s diaper.”

The baby was on his belly kicking the 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. Her irises were dark brown. Their colors had combined into Zain’s eyes, 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. “I’m going to touch you to put on your diaper. Don’t be alarmed.”

He wiggled uncertainly.

She sucked in a deep breath. The problem was her. Her nerves, her baggage, her issues. He was just a baby. Knots of shame and sadness twisted up her memories, including a terrible new thought—would she have been able to protect Elan and Zane with magical powers if she’d only wanted it harder?—and she had to push it away, ruthlessly, 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, his skin thicker than a human baby’s from the protective scales. He had ordinary knees, the usual male baby equipment, an innie belly button, a chubby belly, and skinny arms. The 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 skinny little 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 a 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.”

“It is proof.” Elan studied her as intently as Zain had. Seeing through her. Probably sensing her “soul light” or whatever mermen saw in people. But there was something else in his expression. Waiting, wanting things from her she didn’t dare give. “We are meant to be a family.”

A lump formed in her throat.

She forced it down and stood. “We’ll talk after dinner.”

“Why not now?”

“We can’t be late.” Zara angled away from him. “We’re having dinner with family.”

Elan frowned, but he wisely 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 loaves of American-style banana bread she carried under one arm.

Elan positioned himself in front of Zara, a powerful shield.

“This is safe,” she assured him.

“This is not your family?”

Ah. “Chosen family. Which means these ones are safe.”

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

Elan had always been protective, his determination to face danger first made her heart thump. In a foreign environment, above the surface, he prioritized her.

She’d liked being his priority before. She liked it now. Too much.

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

He tensed behind her. “You should only touch me, not other males.”

“On the surface, it’s different,” she told him over her shoulder. “You don’t have to follow those rules.”

He replied through clenched teeth, nodding instead of returning the effusive greetings. “I will only touch you.”

Feeling his tension, Vaw Vaw’s relatives fell silent. They were normally very friendly but had never seen a merman before. Probably they 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 Elan. “Brighten your soul light.”

He frowned, and his aquamarine eyes fell into deeper stress lines. In his culture, any male who accidentally touched another’s bride, even to save her life, risked losing limbs or exile. He would relax about 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, her diminutive arms wide and her 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 all 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 also needed to be fixed.

Vaw Vaw pulled back. Wrinkles swallowed her face and arthritis bent her knuckles, but her grip was 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. 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, Vaw Vaw had 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. “Yes.”

Elan looked at her.

“I trust her more than I trust myself,” Zara told him.

Elan’s eyes narrowed. “Have more faith.”

“Okay, noted.” Zara nudged him impatiently. “Let her have him.”

Elan reluctantly released Zain, tensed to take him back at an instant’s notice.

Vaw Vaw swung the baby to her chest, and Zain made a pleased gurgling noise. 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 baby 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.

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, yet when Zara told him it was safe, he respected her judgment and her.

Zara 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.

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.

This could only end in heartbreak.

Who was this peaceful, domestic Zara? Elan didn’t recognize his fiery wife, but he liked watching her in this human environment.

She peeled and cut unfamiliar fruit called kiwis at one counter beside other women working in a small, cluttered kitchen. The elder named Vaw Vaw carried baby Zain between them. Since the beach, Zara had never taken her eyes off Zain for more than a few moments. 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. Too much was unfamiliar and chaotic. 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 gingerly. 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. No males came into this kitchen beside him.

He must acclimate to this human practice. Once Zara saw his determination to respect her ways, then perhaps she would be willing to try again.

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.

Zara’s 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 adjust quickly.”

She sniffed. “I do want to hold him.”

“You will.”

“Without causing a meltdown.”

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

Zara looked up. “Really? But that’s how I feel.”

Vaw Vaw nodded. “It is the same for him, yes.”

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.

Zara’s throat worked. Tears sprang to her eyes.

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

Her expression filled with hope.

Where Elan had sought to comfort her, this Vaw Vaw had succeeded. This gentle elder could reach Zara’s heart effortlessly. 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 dry cheek with her wrist, sniffed again, then picked up the knife to finish slicing kiwis.

Elan positioned himself in the outer doorway to keep both Zain and Zara in his view.

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

“Yes, my loves. 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 on curiously 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 loves. 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 sacred islands that passed the secret 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 was still a secret?

But Dragao Azul had little choice. The All-Council enforced the ancient covenant, and Dragao Azul obeyed the All-Council. Someday, perhaps, they would all realize their folly. But considering what they had forced Elan to do this past year, he doubted the realization would happen anytime soon.

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 loves. Show him how much fun it is to have human feet and he’ll 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 welcoming him. 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 dish of the cut kiwis. The children treated her as a familiar adult and her soul light remained steady around them. Only near Zain did her soul light brighten and darken uncontrollably.

Near Zain and near Elan.

Zara offered him a slice of the green fruit. “It’s sure different from Dragao Azul, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Louder, for one.”

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 been to a few. They had all dwindled like Dragao Azul.”

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, and brides from ten, even twenty sacred islands had gathered each year to join with Dragao Azul warriors.

Then, the brides had modernized and the islands had emptied. Across the seas, constrained by the ancient covenant, the mer population declined. Zara was perhaps one of the last to join with a warrior in the old way, and that was only because she had been at their sacred island temple during the selection ceremony by mistake.

Meanwhile, Dragao Azul had spawned a voice of dissent. Woo modern brides, the voice had said. Reveal our existence to the human world. That voice had sundered the oceans and spawned an entire rebel kingdom.

A kingdom which Elan had personally been tasked with wiping out…

He twitched.

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

Zara frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

He tried to force a smile. “Yes.”

She didn’t seem convinced.

He refocused on their conversation. It was safer. “Seeing young fry flourish is my deepest wish.”

Her expression turned inward. She sipped her wine. “You were so excited for the arrival of 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 dish 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 her warmth, her steadiness, and her calm. “You will be a grandmother like Vaw Vaw someday.”

Her brows rose. Her soul burned brighter, proving she was touched, and she gazed at 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 for a moment. “We may never know.”

“Come to the water with me,” he murmured concentrating on the softness of her skin at her delicate neck. “I want to swim with you again.”

She took a shuddering breath. “We can’t go to the ocean.”

“A lake, then.”

“I don’t have my bathing suit.”

“You do not need one.”

She was still for a long time. Then, she took a deep breath and pulled away. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He released her reluctantly. Every time he held her, the craving to keep holding her grew. It was because he could feel her softening and brightening in his arms. If he could only hold her long enough, carefully enough, lovingly enough, then surely they could both heal. Thinking that made it even harder to let her go.

He was losing his discipline.

Dinner was a stew of wine-braised beef at volcanic temperatures, potatoes that seared the mouth, 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 back at the white house, Milly lingered with them in 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. The night suddenly 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 herded Zara toward her bedroom. “Stay with me.”

She stopped in the doorway. “What about Zain?”

He evaluated his options.

Zain needed his rest.

Zara was softened from her time with her family. If he waited until the morning, she might close up 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, then snorted and rubbed her forehead. “I must be tired. I was thinking something dumb.”

Elan stroked her arms. “No concern for our child is dumb. What did you fear?”

“I was afraid he might drown.”

“…In the water?”

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

“I agree.” He eased in front of her, placed his hand on the door head, and blocked her exit. “So, rest with me.”

She seemed conflicted. “I’m not going to sleep with you on the first night.”

On the second night, then? He didn’t ask, although that was his first thought.

“You will sleep more soundly if we are together.”

She frowned.

“Come to my bed, Zara.” He leaned forward, his voice lowered to a rumble. “I summon you as your husband.”

Zara looked at the domineering male who had the balls to summon her. When he said he wanted to sleep, she believed that was all he would do, but she wasn’t sure that was all she would do, and the idea of lying in his arms all night lit her on fire.

Elan had always had that effect on her.

Now he blocked the door, a cocky smile on his arrogant face, and she liked that much more than she ought to.

Their relationship had never followed any rules. Not even self-imposed ones.

“Let me by,” Zara ordered him. “I have to tell my sister I’m not coming to bed. She’s relying on me.”

He released the doorframe.

She squeezed past, brushing against his hard body. The iridescent aquamarine threads in his irises gleamed with promise. She shivered.

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 gruff words heated every feminine cell in her body.

Zara climbed the stairs. Her heart thumped in her chest.

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 was reading a textbook on her bed, her back against the pillows and unicorn-themed 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…uh, he wants to stay up and talk things out.”

Milly folded her lips like she was suppressing a smile. “I’ll sleep with my music in tonight, so take your time.”

Guilt twisted in Zara’s chest. After being catfished and kidnapped attempt, Milly suffered severe nightmares. Only classical music or Zara sleeping in the bed next to her let her relax enough to sleep normally again.

“Actually, I’ll sleep with you,” Zara promised. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

Milly lifted one eyebrow. But she hunched over her homework and, in a tone that was far too casual, mentioned, “You did bring him here.”

“He had nowhere else to go.”

“You never bring anyone here.”

“Because he had Zain. We just have to work out a custody agreement. Elan’s not staying.”

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

“Because...How could I even consider it?”

“He’s the father of your child?”

“Yes, and his stupid arrogance destroyed everything! How could I ever…” Zara swallowed the harsh feelings. “Everything’s different now. I barely remembered the person I was before.”

Milly finally looked up. “I know.”

“So—”

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

Zara blinked. “A shotgun?”

“You were hurt so badly last year. I was thinking of holding him responsible with both barrels. But, Zara, the moment you saw him on the beach today, 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, you’re so easy to get along with, there hasn’t been anything worth arguing about…” But that was a lie. In truth, Zara hadn’t cared. Nothing had shaken her out of the numbness.

Nothing but Elan.

Which meant Milly was right.

She crossed her arms. “How can I ever trust him?”

Milly shrugged a shoulder. “You tell me.”

Zara didn’t feel “alive” right now. She felt scared and fragile and she wanted the fears and fragility to go away. Elan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and their baby was sleeping in a bathtub of seaweed. A year’s worth of days had separated them. It should be an uncrossable abyss. If she tried to cross the abyss and fell in, she really would die inside.

“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. I think you want to face him. If not tonight, then soon.”

She couldn’t argue, but that didn’t mean she agreed. “Can’t I stay with you tonight?”

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

Zara left Milly’s bedroom with an unsettled feeling. She should have refused Elan. Within moments of their reunion on the beach, he’d slipped under her defenses, and he’d been inside her ever since.

She thumped down the stairs.

His hard, lithe form came into view, still leaning against the bathroom 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, for him. Elan’s hot gaze awoke her hunger. She wanted to feel more than his gaze on her body.

Memories of their unions bubbled up, and she slicked in readiness.

But Zara strode past, deliberately avoiding his gaze, and settled on the firm living room couch. “Before we do anything, we need to talk.”

Elan uncoiled from the doorframe with powerful virility. He strode across the smooth living room tile, seeming to suck the oxygen from the room.

She couldn’t get her breath.

He stopped right in front of her.

Before she realized what he was doing, 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. Were you imprisoned this whole time? Or healing from that night?”

“No, I…” His eyes lost their glimmer and seemed to sink into a 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?”

“I had to travel.” He grimaced and looked away. “That is how I learned that you can transform into a powerful mermaid queen.”

“That’s a fantasy.”

“It is truth. You have great power hidden somewhere within you. I saw it in Kadir’s city.”

Kadir was a notorious ex-warrior from Dragao Azul who’d wanted to break all the rules. Expose the mer’s existence, invite modern women to become brides, and ask them to stay forever. She and Elan had secretly spoken about his dangerous ideas when they were tangled up together late in the nights. Part way through Zara’s stay, Kadir had been arrested for blasphemy and imprisoned.

It was a warning she should have heeded.

“Kadir never said anything about developing magic powers,” she pointed out. “I would’ve remembered that.”

“He thought the ancient legends exaggerated the queen’s powers. Channeling a Life Tree’s energy to create a protective sphere around loved ones or push enemies or heal fatal wounds sounded fantastical. But the legends are not exaggerated. They are true.”

She kept returning to the same thought. “If I couldn’t summon magical powers the night I needed them most, why would I be able to summon them now?”

He kissed the back of her hand. “Have faith.”

“Be honest.” She tapped her flat palm against his scarred 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 forward. “You’ve told me nothing, Elan, except to ‘believe.’ How can I believe in you when you’ve given me nothing?”

The hollows deepened. He looked malnourished, exhausted, and unwell. Tormenting him like this was cruel.

But he was cruel too. Insisting she had magic powers and could save them if only she tried hard enough.

Elan had made her so many promises. No other merman had kept his bride, but Elan swore he would be the first. They would remain under the water together, forever. One happy mer family. She’d believed him.

And then the night Zain was born, she’d barely finished giving birth—an amazing, life-altering experience with Elan—when warriors had burst into the protected chamber and shattered all those promises.

“Just tell me the truth,” she told Elan firmly. “Tell me something I can believe in. And tell me everything.”

Elan listened to her requirements with increasing discomfort.

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?

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 a warrior’s spirit. Compromise was not in her. If she’d been ordered to betray everyone or die, she would have chosen death.

“Just start at the beginning,” she murmured, stroking his forehead. “Explain why it took a year for you to come for me.”

He forced his voice. “Raising a newborn alone is tiring.”

Her tone flattened. “You don’t say.”

“Especially because I could not risk being declared unfit. My crippling injuries were designed to keep me inside my castle.”

Her fingers dropped to the scar lines on his chest, and her voice softened to a rough whisper. “They were bad?”

“Bad enough.”

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. 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 his mother in her absence.

“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 if forced to remain underwater. Die longing for the surface. Now, she has found another husband. Brides easily forget. Only the mer remember.”

Elan had pretended to believe them.

“I thought that I had lulled them into believing that I had given up on you. But when I tried to sneak to the surface with Zain, I was caught.”

She made a noise. “You tried to come earlier?”

“I did not get beyond the city limits.” He couldn’t stop his bitter laugh. “It was a pitiful attempt, and the cost was beyond anything I ever imagined. They took Zain and pressed me back into service as First Lieutenant. Then they lent me to the All-Council army and forced me to…”

She waited, breathing slowly.

He forced the painful words out. “They said I could have Zain back after I destroyed the rebel city, Atlantis.”

“Kadir’s rebel city?” she murmured.

He nodded, feeling queasy from his actions. “I made a brutal campaign. I broke every law of combat and honor. I loosed monsters forbidden by treaties. I tried very hard to destroy their Life Tree and to…to murder their...”

He couldn’t finish.

“To murder their warriors?” Zara guessed incorrectly. “Did you succeed?”

“I do not know.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I left before the final battle. The moment I evaded the notice of my captors, I swam back to Dragao Azul. I broke into the king’s castle, tricked the warriors on duty, and escaped with Zain. And this time I was in good enough health to outrun everyone. I came to you.”

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, tortured him. Her distance felt like a new punishment, and he was too exhausted to endure it any longer.

“And now I am here. You do not wish for me.” His soul ached. “You only wish for our son.”

Her gaze returned to him. “Sorry.”

“You did not miss me. My elders were right. Only the mer remember their brides.”

She didn’t reply.

“You did forget us,” he accused, bitter. “Even Zain. I thought only of you, of us as a family. But you never thought of Zain at all.”

The blood drained from her face.

But her soul light brightened with the strength of ten suns.

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

She stood and stomped into the kitchen.

Abandoning him without a word? Then, he’d hurt her so badly she really was running away.

He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to hold her. He was failing at everything.

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 the ocean and would never wish to become queens—were true.

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

The storm mirrored the pain threatening his soul.

Zara stomped back into the living 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 burned with amber-gold light. Righteous indignation always made her hot and strong.

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 tinier version of the 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.”

The hospital was a location where humans birthed their young fry.

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

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—the goods 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 stupid. I was so numb this year, but whenever I was at a 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 locks gently, securely, behind her ear.

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

His bitterness melted away.

“I misjudged you,” he murmured.

“Yes.”

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 her jaw, her neck, her breasts. Forced her shirt over her head.

She stopped. “Wait.”

He gave up on 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 go back in time, get lost in desire. Burn off the raw pain in passion.

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

“This will make leaving harder,” she murmured in a vague protest.

“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 in her center. 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 his 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 intricate 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 rate 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 in time. And they never could. Just because it felt better than she remembered, hotter and more intense, didn’t mean she could forget the pain and heartbreak so easily.

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

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 him shakily. “And it won’t happen again.”

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

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 on the surface. Frighteningly pleasurable…no! No, it was just different.

She returned to the living room and dressed awkwardly. Elan also pulled his clothes back on without a word. She packed away the too-small baby clothes and put the baby cutlery in the kitchen. She stacked the correctly sized outfits to store in her closet.

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

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

“What is this?”

“Cleaning.” She refolded the same outfit a third time. “Nothing personal.”

“Everything for you is personal. Even now you turn away from me. Is it because…?” He broke off and looked away, avoiding her gaze in a very uncharacteristic way.

Dread pooled in her stomach. “Because what?”

“No reason,” he muttered darkly.

That just made her more certain. He was a confident and domineering warrior, not one who slunk around.

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

His eyes widened in amazement. He looked so shocked, and then guilty 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 and 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. “My dishonor will poison all our souls.”

She set her feet and braced herself. For whatever was coming. For however much it would hurt. “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 had tried to shield the truth from Zara.

I tried to kill them.

He knew Zara would hate him. Her expression would stiffen from distrust to horror and then disgust. She would order him away knowing he was irredeemable. Nothing could make up for the horrors he had committed.

“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, her tone even.

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 wavered.

There could be no redemption for him.

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

“Kadir’s rebel city, Atlantis, gained strength.” Elan swallowed the harshness in his throat. It had never hurt so much to breathe. “His queen was said to have defended Atlantis from raiders using legendary powers. The rumors caused great disturbances across the bottom of the ocean.”

“You heard?” she repeated. “So you didn’t witness these so-called powers?”

“Not at first.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I was forced to be First Lieutenant of Dragao Azul, as I said. Then, representatives of the All-Council came to us. They had raised an army to fight the blasphemers, and because Dragao Azul had produced both Kadir and his first lieutenant, Soren, they decided it was Dragao Azul’s responsibility to lead the destruction.”

She studied him without judgment. Yet. “You already said they conscripted you and threatened to keep you away from Zain.”

“I know your opinion of the other warriors is low, but the cruelty of separating a father from his son shocked all the warriors. Even the elders. But no one had protested.”

“Of course not,” she muttered.

“Not aloud. Instead of singing battle songs for success in warfare, they sent me off with a requiem for a fallen warrior on his final journey into the blacknight sea. A dirge. They all knew my king had sent me off to die.”

Zara studied him with a furrowed brow.

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

“I get that. Continue.”

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 wrong. Most warriors were like myself, forcefully conscripted. They deserved a better general than I.”

“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 shot up. “Him? After what he did to me?”

Elan snapped up. “What did he do to you?”

She made a slashing gesture with her hand. “Never mind.”

“Zara—”

“I promise to tell you. I just want to hear this story first.”

“I was angry that Soren was enjoying time with his bride when I was forever barred from being with you. I attacked recklessly while his arms were full holding his bride. 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.”

“Could have been?”

“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, so, nothing happened?”

“I attacked a warrior holding his bride, Zara.”

“Yes, and his ‘queen’ repelled you, so nothing happened.”

“I broke all rules of warfare. Shattered the code of the mer.” He explained slowly as to a newborn young fry. “I lost my honor.”

“Yes. Honor. Sorry, my mistake, I forgot the point.” Zara rubbed her brow. “And your other attacks 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. “Everything else I said is true. Just before the final battle, I escaped to Dragao Azul, abandoning my warriors in battle, another dishonorable thing to do.”

“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. That was ruined when I was caught escaping with Zain. They know I am alive, at least, but they did not chase after me. They let me go.”

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

“Now you know,” Elan said finally. “Everything.”

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

“Ask.”

Zara peppered him with questions. 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 Elan see any queens with fins? Had he led any successful attacks or had they all been sabotaged?

After his final answer, the silence, in the absence of the rain and wind, felt absolute.

Zara was studying him with…well, with unhappiness. And consternation. As though she wanted to hate him, but couldn’t. And the only thing more important to his fierce bride than protecting her loved ones was justice. Even though he had described a clear picture of how wrong he had acted, she did not revile him.

Finally, he dared to ask the question he most feared. “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.”

A hopeful sensation tingled in his chest. He tried to snuff it. She hadn’t processed. She wasn’t certain. He had done many really wrong things since their last parting.

“I am a changed warrior, Zara,” he told her gravely. “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.”

“Yes.”

She sobered.

“I will be hunted to the ends of the ocean. The All-Council cannot allow a mer who has committed such betrayals to live. They will find me. And then, they will kill me.

“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.”

“It is not impossible. I do not think the All-Council warriors can find me tonight. But someday, they may learn the ways of humans, and growling cars, and they may find 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 all my last hours with you, however many or few there may be.”

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 instantly crossed to the bathroom doorway, Elan right behind her. Zain had rolled upright and looked at them, awake but sleepy.

Zain 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 their son in the cool, damp seaweed. Zain curled his fingers in ropes and sighed, encouraged back to sleep.

At the doorway, Zara ducked away.

Elan’s heart squeezed.

She had finished her processing and would run from him now. His actions had sparked her hate. She would never have led an army against Atlantis, not even—

“I’m sorry.” She stopped and took his hand, teased her fingers around his. “You went through a lot. It was a long year 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 over.”

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.”

“You’re hard again.”

“I always will be near you.” Her nearness calmed the raging in his chest and the self-loathing choking him with recriminations. His chest shuddered. His breath ran away. He could cry. “Always.”

His thigh pressed against hers. She stroked his hard muscles soothingly. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

There would be another talk.

He worried about it.

But he should stop worrying and only appreciate the soft, delicious form of his wife pressed up against him. How many more opportunities would he have? He feared he would find out in the morning’s talk…

Elan awoke alone. Late morning light warmed his couch.

The house was empty.

Had Zara reconsidered her feelings and slipped away?

He walked through the rooms, desperation and nerves building.

Zara was outside sitting on the terracotta. Beside her, Zain wore another outfit. This time, a brown onesie with two soft, rounded ears on a hood. Some kind of gentle, plush creature.

She wore 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 carried 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 darken when you pick him up.”

She scowled. Her light darkened.

“And now.” He pointed to Zain, who began to fuss and crawl away. “Your sadness 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.”

“Because he is closest to you.”

She snorted. “He’s closest to you, obviously.”

“True also. Zain and I have an unbreakable connection. But so do you, and you have not met since birth. Your connection exists powerfully even after a year.”

“But I can’t break this loop. I feel nervous, Zain fusses, and I feel more nervous. It’s frustrating.”

“It is as your Vaw Vaw said.” He squatted beside the two of them and tucked 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 foot 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. “And I’m impatient. 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.”

“You must explore 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? How unworthy of him.

His petty feelings only sparked his anger. “So capture your power and protect him. Go to the ocean today. Now.”

Her brows rose. “Which one of us isn’t listening?”

“Zain has never spent so long above the surface.”

“He’s never spent any time above the surface,” she returned, “so another few days won’t hurt.”

“Zara.”

“He’s half human. Humans don’t need the water.”

“Do not ask him to deny half of his heritage.”

“Why not? Your people do it all the time. They forbid everyone from going to the surface.”

Frustration gnawed at him.

Last night she’d loved him and listened to him and rested beside him. It was like his dreams. He’d slept well for the first time in a year.

But this morning impatience welled in his heart. He still struggled with self-loathing for all his failures and dishonorable actions. She said she didn’t hate him or even blame him, but her refusal of the water felt like a rebuttal that meant she was lying.

“You, Zara, drank the elixir. You, too, are mer.”

“According to your people, I don’t exist anymore.”

“That is their error. Do not let others determine your destiny.”

She frowned pensively.

“Did you not love swimming beneath the waves? Diving through unseen lands, dancing with incredible creatures?”

The corners of her lips softened and she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “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 in and that always causes your soul light to darken.”

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?”

Dangers gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Enemies he couldn’t see just beyond the corners of his vision. The longer they waited, the less prepared they would be when it came.

Still, Zara was considering his words carefully, and that was more than before. He forced his nod.

She stroked his cheek in thanks and refocused on Zain.

He straightened. His limbs felt too loose and his chest wanted…something. He rubbed at the worrisome itch beneath his heart.

What was wrong with him?

He pushed. “We should go to the beach.”

“After Border and Immigration.” She rose and stretched. “Ah. It’s going to be a long day.”

They went to the offices, answered endless questions, and filled reams of papers. Despite her reluctance to claim her power, she did claim him as her husband.

Something had changed.

“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 identification cards. 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 comes from their magical tree in their underwater city,” she said dryly. “The Life Tree? The super valuable, super healing Sea Opals come from its resin. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Then what about voting? What about taxes? What about inheritance?” The agent shook his head. “There are many questions. They must be answered thoroughly for all mermen who arise from the sea.”

“We don’t care about voting. This is life or death.”

“Elan is safe if he remains on land.”

“But he’s likely to go into the sea. He’s a merman.”

The agent stared at her blankly. He refused responsibility for others’ 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 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 had married an Oregonian named Lucy.

Zara led them to Milly’s car for a second festive evening with Vaw Vaw’s family. There, amongst friends, she calmed down enough to hold a conversation with her sister.

“I researched the legends of mer queens at school today,” Milly told Zara over too-hot, 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 did you 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 any shape you want.”

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 human 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 TV later. I think it was on Oprah.”

“Did she make a magical shield on Oprah?”

Milly shook her head. “That only works underwater. The powers are like waves? Air is too thin.”

“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 flipped over his hand and traced his battle scars across his knuckles. The healing lines cracked his aquamarine honor tattoos, fracturing them and changing their meanings. “I can’t believe I’m basing my son’s safety on the supposed magical powers 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. Not the same beach, but one within a harbor, inundated with humans and least likely to have hidden mer. He divested his clothes and checked the area for signs of warriors, then returned to collect her and Zain.

“Come in with us,” he urged her. “You avoid the water out of fear. But that makes you a half-person. Defeat your fears, embrace your radiance, and heal your soul.”

“Even assuming I do have these powers, which I don’t, I want to try it where it’s safe.”

“Where is safe?”

“Not the ocean.”

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’d 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.

She lay back against the cool sand and stared up at the cloud-scuffed, star-studded sky.

Why had she remained in the Azores?

She’d been dumped that night because she’d fulfilled her purpose, the polícia had said. They’d blamed a human trafficking cartel, but they hadn’t been far wrong. Human trafficking cartel or ancient 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 had set in slowly, like the dropping of a fog. Depression, her therapist had called it. The realization that the one man she had trusted and given her heart to would not be coming to save her. 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, 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. It had taken all night to drag the full truth out, but he’d been honest. He always had been. Overconfident, optimistic, 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 soul mate.

Once they resolved the passport and citizenship issues, she would take Elan and Zain home to meet her aunt in California. Safely away from Dragao Azul, she could try to discover her … it sounded so stupid saying it. Her powers.

If Elan and Zain weren’t kidnapped already.

How long had they been submerged?

She closed her eyes and hugged her chest.

Her parents had called her stupid. Falling for Elan’s claim that she was magical was about as crazy as believing in mermen.

And yet there were mermen…

But some enemies were too powerful to fight head-on. They were 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 extensions to use and abuse, like long hair that could be chopped and sold off or fingernails that could be shaped and painted according to their whim.

The only way to deal with her parents was to run, fast and hard, and hide behind an impenetrable defense so they could never get the advantage.

Zara had studied narcissistic personality disorder and psychopathy in college. Both fit her parents. They were normal when interacting with other adults. Reasonable, friendly, ordinary. But when they turned on their own children, the mask slipped off, revealing the evil inside.

And Elan’s so-called “honorable” and “trustworthy” warriors were exactly the same. Friendly to her as long as she was doing what they wanted, but brutal in trying to shape her into their ideal.

Zara removed her tennis shoes and socks and walked barefoot across the moonlit shore. She took a shaky breath, and then she stepped onto the wet sand. The ocean waves tickled her all-too-human toes.

It was the first time she’d touched the ocean since she’d crawled out, light-headed and still bleeding, a year ago. She wiggled her toes and followed the waves out. Clear water and silky sand fluttered as she walked into ankle-depth waves, bracing for the endless assault of the shore.

This was dumb. She wasn’t capable. If she’d had special powers, they would have already revealed themselves.

A sneaker wave crashed against her shins, pushing her off balance. She caught herself, heart thumping, and retreated to the dry sand.

Elan’s powerful figure emerged from the sea, Zain boosted gently in his arms. Her tension eased. They were alive.

Zara stood and waved.

Milly picked them up at the appointed time. The ride home was wet and quiet. Zara apologized for making her car smell like seawater.

At home, Zara intended to follow Milly up 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 blossomed between her legs. His masculine scent of salt and male hooked her libido and squeezed.

“Sometimes the only choice is to run,” she whispered.

“You have another choice.”

“How can I defeat the warriors where you failed?”

Dark shadows deepened around his eyes.

“Never mind.” She scratched her forehead. “I’m just tired.”

Reality wasn’t what they needed right now, clearly. She was still confused in her heart and he was beyond exhausted. He’d traveled for so long to come back to her. He needed kindness, and she needed his faith even though she was afraid to believe him.

She linked arms and led him to the couch. “Come and sleep.”

Even though they had already had sex here, he obediently stretched his imposing form, and then he tugged her into his arms and held her tightly, resting his chin on her head.

Curving into his warm, protective arms felt too good.

She protested. “I need to check on Milly.”

“Stay. 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, reminding her of the night before and awakening her senses.

And then his limbs weighted down and his breathing slowed, collapsing as though he were drugged.

It felt so good to be in his arms again. So safe.

Well, maybe she could stay for a few minutes…

Zara awoke to stark morning light.

Elan 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. Before last night, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. 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 seawater, 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, 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. Unafraid.

Elan was right. When she defeated her fears, she would become a whole person.

And then she would once more be able to embrace love…

The key was Zain. In only three days Zain had gone from frantic rejection of her to calm acceptance. Babies really were resilient.

She didn’t remember her earliest childhood. Her grandfather had raised her and Milly until she was six and Milly was three. After his death, their parents treated them like unwanted pets, locking them up and leaving them filthy and hungry, until the day they didn’t come back at all. She and Milly were sent to their well-meaning but strict aunt in California. Zara had only met her parents once as an adult. They’d catfished Milly and then tried to traffick her, and Zara had come after them and ruined their plans. They’d gotten away without facing consequences, again, but had finally broken laws in front of enough strangers and witnesses that they couldn’t come back to the Azores. They were wanted for questioning by the polícia.

In contrast, Zain was well-fed and well-loved by his foster carers, but he was still 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, Zain’s 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 their runaway emotions 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.

This was how it felt to heal a broken heart. Sometimes, it was set incorrectly and had to be re-broken. She had to relive her darkest fears, but now, she knew hope.

Milly burst into the room. She was back from her morning classes a little early. She 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 nearness 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. It was constructed after 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 nudibranchs 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 like to 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 Elan’s trident. They would not 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 anger. “You don’t know my parents. We need to act now. Where are Elan and Zain’s passports?”

“Please calm down, Ms. Robertson.”

“I’ll 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 help them in any way.

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.”

Elan 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 on the land.”

Her lips quirked. “Never change.”

“That is something I cannot promise.”

Milly was busy at school so Zara contacted a professional driver. They traveled directly to the shoreline. She paid the driver and followed Elan to the sand, keeping Zain in her arms.

“Make it fast,” she told Elan.

He stepped out of his slacks and button-up shirt and strode naked down the shore, his iridescent aquamarine tattoos flashing. The humans at this hour still formed noticeable crowds. He moved quickly to avoid prolonging their offense.

Zain wiggled to swim too, but Zara held him tight, immune to his cries.

“Shhh.” She bounced him on her hip. “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 ocean 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 transformation elixir for the first time and descended into the water with him, her beautiful eyes had been wide, 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, words vibrating in his chest. 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 in vibrations.

The creature’s song changed to a happy screech, and it twirled, shifting colors to peaceful green and back to excited red spots.

Elan on the weapons on his 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. They had kidnapped and forced the younger daughter, Milly, to offer herself as his sacred bride, subverting the holy ceremony. He’d risen to claim his bride and known right away that something had gone wrong. But luckily for him, beyond the terrified girl being forced to offer herself, had been the radiant, fierce, powerful Zara coming to her sister’s rescue. Zara’s heroism had captured Elan’s attention as much as her brilliant soul. At Zara’s request, he had driven off their captors, freeing Milly. Then he had carried off his bride.

If they threatened Zara now, he would not drive them away. He would fight.

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 filled 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 floated across the still echo point.

“Some signs … exile… catch them, we will execute any traitors to the covenant…”

The words were faint. He wanted to doubt his hearing, but that would be folly. His pursuers were near. On land, they faced Zara’s parents. Under the water, they faced his city’s vengeful warriors.

The warriors’ voices faded.

Elan would 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 noticed his mood immediately. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he reassured her.

Yet.

With vigilance, he would make his answer true. He would never fail her again.

Zara knew the look on Elan’s face meant danger was near. He took her parents’ threat seriously. That was reassuring.

“It’s my fault,” Milly moaned during a quiet moment at dinner.

They’d returned to Vaw Vaw’s to eat dinner all week. She’d insisted, and Zara had thought it might be good for Zain to be surrounded by other children. With her parents in the area, Zara wanted the company. Vaw Vaw was the only stranger she trusted with Zain, and the more witnesses there were, the safer everyone was from her parents.

“All my fault,” Milly said miserably. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“I left you in the lurch.” She grasped Milly’s too-cold hands. “If I’d been present during their arrest and questioning, maybe they wouldn’t have been released at all.”

“No, that’s not—”

“I was confused and overwhelmed by the secret ceremony our parents had stumbled into. I thought I had to go with Elan or there would be a catastrophe. 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, desperate and alone, she’d been unable to give proper evidence to the prosecutors. It was Zara’s fault Milly had gotten trapped by them in the first place, and it was her fault for not being there for Milly, again. Their parents had sailed off in their yacht without serving even the token amount of jail time their father had been sentenced for. Their mother had been declared an 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.

The uncle 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, but she knew his daggers were there.

He had once grabbed her father by the throat and thrown him across a cavern.

Few people could do that. Her father was not a small man.

The urgent panic bubbling under her skin lessened.

Elan leaned closer to her, filling her senses with his salty masculine scent. “You can also become a weapon.”

“Powers don’t work above the water.”

“Your parents travel in a boat. They are surrounded by water.”

She was thinking of a reply when a cry arose from the other side of the room. Vaw Vaw was once again holding Zain. A spoonful of mash 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 loves. After the dinner.”

Elan murmured in Zara’s ear. “He is not the only one with hidden powers. Shifting forms requires practice. But all you truly need is will.”

She bunched her hands into fists.

Zara had always lost to her parents. She’d lost to 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 you were trying to get me into the water since the beginning. I’m agreeing to go.”

“Your mouth agrees but your heart does not.”

“I have to try.”

“I agree.” Their quiet argument continued out to the car that night while Zain slumped over Elan’s shoulders, asleep. He eased into the back seat. “You will begin on the land.”

“My power doesn’t work on land.”

“You can make your fins.”

“Who cares if I have fins?” From her seat, she hissed, “Maybe you can see my soul light, but that doesn’t mean you can see my future. Maybe when I shift, I’ll suddenly awaken those powers.”

“No.”

“Why are you so…?” She made fists and gritted her teeth and did not finish her question.

The drive home was stiff. Milly cleared her throat about a hundred times before she dropped them off at the house. Elan went inside to put Zain down.

Milly called Zara to the driver’s window. “I’m going back to the university.”

“Sorry.” Zara felt a headache coming on. She rubbed her forehead. “I know it’s awkward when we argue. We’ll tone it down.”

“Oh, no. It’s not you.” Milly smiled awkwardly. She was clearly lying. Their argument was definitely driving her away from the house. “I want to retrieve a document on my file share. It might be helpful. The computer lab is still open.”

“Don’t stay out too late. You always were our parents’ favorite.” Zara’s hackles rose. “It’s suspicious they’ve come now. I feel like someone must have told them about Zain, and when I find out who…” She smacked her fist into her palm.

Her sister grimaced sickly and drove off. Her taillights glowed red against the fallen darkness.

Zara returned to the house with a heavy heart. Milly was still deeply affected by their parents, and Zara felt like it was her fault.

Elan was waiting.

He’d put Zain down in the bathroom. Now, in the living room, he had a dark and knowing look in his eye. With his shirt off, his glorious pecs were revealed to the night, wicked blades affixed to his bulging arms with a tight weave.

Elan drew her into his arms and cupped her head.

Heat sizzled through her.

She rested her hands on his forearm lightly. “I thought we were discussing how I can awaken 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 wanted to believe him. “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. “I never thought that was an advantage, but it helped me. I knew to avoid my parents, whereas Milly, who’d forgotten and been too young to understand, was blind-sided.” Then she frowned again. “Knowing didn’t help me keep her safe or rescue her, though.”

“But knowledge is the first step of claiming any power. I have watched you carefully this week, Zara. Your soul light brightens when you fight.”

“Fight?”

“For your beliefs. You are a great protector, Zara. You argue with me over how to protect our family. You disagree with Border and Immigration over how to protect me and Zain. When you hold Zain close to your heart or watch over the children at Vaw Vaw’s house, you are fierce and strong.” He slid his hand up her smooth skin to her elbow. “Give in to your passion.”

“I’m...” She bit her lip, frowning. “I’ve spent so long being numb.”

“You are no longer numb.” He brushed feather-soft kisses across her worry-wrinkled forehead. “You are passionate about justice and 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. “Now, become passionate with your husband.”

She rested one knee on the bed beside his waist. The other wedged between his bent knees. “I’ve been in hiding. When you surfaced, I wanted to run away. I’m not really brave.”

“You fought my warriors with your bare hands.”

“I didn’t save you, though.”

“No one could have saved me. We were outnumbered.”

“I’m not really a warrior.”

“Warriors lose battles. We are taught how to recover from a loss. You have not learned that yet.” He removed his knives from his thighs, folded the bindings, and stowed them beneath the bed. Resting his hands on her waist, he savored her softness and then pulled her down. “We must accept, not dwell on, the 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. “You have more scars.”

He tightened, flexing in sharp relief.

“But it seems as though they’re healing.” 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. “Is it my imagination? Or are you healing?”

“A warrior heals quickest in the presence of his soul mate.”

“What about the scars you can’t see? The scars inside.”

“It is most difficult to heal. That is why we sacrifice everything to avoid dishonor. Even if we make mistakes, even if we lose a battle, so long as we have our honor, we can feel satisfied.”

She traced the markings. “You gave that up for Zain and me.”

“You are worth anything. Even dishonor.”

Her expression turned fierce. “You didn’t do anything really wrong.”

“It does not matter.”

“It does matter.”

“I would repeat my actions to reunite with you.” He slid his hands up her shirt, squeezing her shoulder blades to press her breasts against him. “You are my soul mate.”

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 femininity and his Zara.

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 was graceful like the curve of a crescent moon. He teased her skin 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 her neck met her collar. Tugging off her fluffy shirt and silky 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 a 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 volcanic vent 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. He’d been trained that a warrior must honor his bride by bringing her pleasure. That duty in the heart chamber had to be performed as honorably as any duty in war.

But discovering her desire for him burned as hot as his for her had deeply reassured him on a level he could never have imagined. He found her endlessly fascinating and hungered for her. She also felt intense, uncontrollable cravings for him.

On the land, once again, 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 maleness. Cool breezes wafted across his sensitive skin yet heat pulsed in him. He sucked in a breath. A white pearl of his desire emerged on the tip.

Her gaze flicked to his face 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 sensual glance and she took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue over his shaft.

His whole body tightened. Pleasure peaked. He groaned and gripped her hair as he 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 pleased herself and shared her desires with him. They were partners. Friends. Lovers.

Husband and wife.

He needed to give this soul-tingling pleasure to her too.

Elan 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 above the water.”

“Your softness pleases me.”

She snorted. “Don’t lie.”

“It is truth.” He placed soft, worshipful kisses on her trembling thighs. Above the water, her weight enveloped him. The pressure of her body equaled the depth of her trust. “This position is better.”

She looked surprised, then thoughtful. And then she dismissed her thought with another snort. “You just don’t remember.”

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he valued her more intensely having loved and lost her. Or perhaps they had both matured during their separation and heartbreak so now their union was richer and more poignant.

Whatever the reason, he nuzzled into her soft folds, teasing her attractive slickness. She gasped. She tasted like his favorite flavor. He delved into her interior 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.

His chest swelled with pride. So, he could still bring her to the peak of pleasure with only his tongue? He hadn’t lost this precious skill, and it healed another strip of his injured heart.

Zara wiggled free and rotated to straddle him as he sat up to meet her. 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. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.” She kissed his mouth, stoking his hunger even higher. His cock pressed her silky wet cleft. “In.”

He glided in, fitting them together as one, and she gripped him inside and out. His cock filled her taut channel completely. He groaned. 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.”

He struggled not to release immediately, drowning her in his seed.

“Never leave me again,” she ordered.

His voice cracked. “Never.”

She stamped his lips with hers and then rocked against him. 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 and enjoying every stroke.

She rolled back her head. Her dark pearled nipples stroked his chest.

He sucked on the exposed flesh, seeking to bring her to greater heights. 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…

Suddenly, something thumped in the living room.

Zara stiffened.

Elan disentangled them and rose to full alert.

The world would not give them peace. His wish was foolish.

She scrambled off the bed after him.

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. They’d returned because they wanted something, and when they wanted something of hers or Milly’s, they took it.

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.

The 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 footsteps announced he was going upstairs, and his weight creaked the old floorboards as he thoroughly examined every room for intruders.

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe it was a coincidence her parents had returned now. Her father had lots of old friends and former 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. “Can you not close up this human house to become impenetrable, like my undersea castle?”

“Unfortunately no,” she told him. “Human houses aren’t biological. Close the windows and make sure everything’s locked.”

“I will rest on the couch tonight.”

“Good idea. I’ll sleep on the bathroom floor next to Zain.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “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. “Milly will be home any minute so 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 as best she could.

They were locking the final window when Milly’s car parked in her usual spot. Her headlights flashed, which was unusual, and she suddenly honked furiously and repeatedly without regard for the neighbors.

Zara’s heart thudded with fear.

She unlocked the back door and ran out in her flip-flops, Elan in only shorts 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.

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. “When you honked, he was right…”

The front door hung open.

Elan raced across the front gravel.

A car engine revved on the main road. Tires squealed. A car fishtailed away, its headlights 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 leaned 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 in the darkness to see 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.”

Zara 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, smoky rubber oiled the night.

Milly stared at Zara. “That would have been your 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 chose a random direction and gunned the speed. Around a corner, distant taillights flashed. They were far ahead of them 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 minute 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 passenger’s 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 was a faster runner.

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 of the dock 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 seawater, stunning at first, pooled in her lungs. It was a heavy, cold, crushing weight. On her back, slits opened to the chill, transforming her air-breathing lungs into water-breathing gills. The temperature warmed and changed texture 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 with their own inner glow, their soul lights emitting small notes like the chime of a xylophone. She couldn’t sense human or mer soul lights, but she could see them in fish. Maybe it was a more advanced skill, like making her fins. She didn’t know.

The fish tinkled as they munched plankton, which glimmered like stardust sprinkled into layers on the ocean current “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 songs, and beneath them, the ground sloped 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 two 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 instinctively that she needed to save Zain.

The yacht motor growled with unnatural, mechanical screeches. Its 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 underwater. Rather than using her mouth, her words vibrated deep inside her chest, and they weren’t exactly words, either. She heard his communication in the same unused cavity located somewhere beneath her heart.

“There’s a ladder,” she recalled. “On the left side.”

He veered to that side and 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 that 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 for its deployment, the anchor was being hauled up.

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 bar 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.

Elan really was an indomitable warrior.

She choked out the seawater and sucked in gasps of air. Fully shifting back to human form was rough. It always felt 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 high in the air.

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.”

“Boost me.”

“Zara.” He held her tight against his warm body. “You will be alone.”

She chattered. “I know.”

“We must find another way.”

“They could be hurting Zain.” She gripped Elan, terrified of facing her parents, but more terrified of not facing them. “Boost me onto the deck.”

He gripped the anchor chain in one hand. “You are powerful. A warrior. You will fight them and win.”

She forced herself to believe him. “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 overboard but missed; it had scratched the deck and dented the railing. A loose black tarpaulin flapped off a 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 must save Zain. Her parents could not win.

Behind her, Elan grunted. Something scraped the bow, thudding just below the deck. 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.

Sickness churned in her belly, her fear 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 as she crawled forward.

Conversation on the sun deck made her freeze.

This was only her second time on her parents’ boat but suppressed memories spilled forth.

Stink from the empty wine bottles flung at her little head. Throbbing pain and stinging cuts. Boozy laughter.

Zara took a deep breath.

She was here for Zain. Not her childhood self. Zain.

Zara forced herself to 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 liquor bottle rested in one loose hand. Her mother faced him, her back to Zara. She rested Zain against her hip.

He stared up at his grandmother silently.

“I found him in a bathtub.” Her mother smoothed Zain’s bunny-print 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 with us.”

“Don’t get attached.” Her father swigged the dark liquid and coughed. “You 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. She was an adult.

Her mother pinched Zain’s bare human feet. “How do you propose I make them into fins?”

A nasty smile curved his ugly mouth. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

No. This ended now.

Zara stepped out from behind the cabin. “Give me back my son.”

Her parents jumped, 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, while her 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 vessel.”

Anxiety sliced into her belly.

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 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, a mother, and a bride, the wrong word from her father made her feel like a helpless little girl again.

Zain mirrored her emotions and started crying.

Her mother bounced him. “Hush, Zara. You’re upsetting him.”

Powerlessness rose in her chest and threatened to overwhelm her. 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 true.

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’s 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.”

Fierce burning anger replaced the shakiness.

In her mother’s arms, Zain quieted as well.

“I owe you nothing,” she said to the wretched, self-interested narcissists that were her parents. “The Sea Opal was never yours. And neither is my son. Give him back to me now and never come near us again.”

“Rude.” Her mother tutted at Zara. “He’s ours too. Being ungrateful makes you ugly, Zara.”

“You can’t deny us a relationship.” Her father tickled Zain’s unsmiling cheek. “We’re perfect grandparents.”

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.

“You’re horrible in every way.” Zara’s calm persisted. “Criminals. Kidnappers. Bullies. Human traffickers.”

Her father snorted as if she’d made the funniest claims.

She persisted. “You’re already wanted for your last crimes. When the police catch you, you’re going away.”

“You lied.” Her mother flushed hotly. “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 as the island grew smaller behind him.

How far were they going? What had happened to Elan? Were the police coming at all?

Zara’s frustration resurfaced. “If you’re so innocent, go tell the police!”

“Why should I?” Her father dismissed her. “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. Zara 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 continued. “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!”

“You’re wrong.” He left the wheel and took hulking steps toward her. “Dead wrong.”

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 body overboard.

Zara hit the back railing. The white froth of the propeller churned the water.

Her father advanced on her. “There’s an easy way and a hard way off this boat, Zara.”

She curled her hands around the railing. “Not without my son.”

“Have it your way.”

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 she still shook. “You’re never getting out of jail again.”

He thumped the bottle on one palm, the remaining liquid splashing inside the bottle. “I should’ve done this the night your mother brought your ugly face home from the hospital.”

Fear slid through her like a knife.

She backed into the railing. Her shoulder hit the top of the ladder.

Her father raised his arm and charged.

Elan surged over the railing behind her and smashed his fist into her father’s face.

Her father flew sideways. His rum bottle bounced on the deck.

Zara collapsed against the railing, gripping the scratchy metal to stay upright.

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.

The two men 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 staggered back to the bow, panic driving her.

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 I will drop his son!”

Powerless, helpless, sick darkness pooled in Zara’s stomach. Evil held all the cards. She held none.

But…

“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 her crazy eyes. “Do it.”

“What?” Her mother curled her lip in fury. “I’m warning you. Don’t be stupid!”

Zara crossed her arms. “You’re the stupid one. Go ahead and throw my son in the water. He’s a baby mer.”

Her mother frowned.

Zara walked to the control panel and cut the throttle then stepped back “Now we just wait for the police.”

Her mother seethed. “You were never wanted! Ugly, stupid, weak stain on our lives. I wish you would just die!”

Zara didn’t even feel the pain of those words anymore. She finally saw her mother as a weak and powerless old woman.

But Zain was tired and scared and he started crying.

Zara’s fury crackled. She stalked to her mother.

Her mother twisted to hold the crying baby even farther over the side of the yacht. “Stop right there—”

“Give me my son or I’ll push you both overboard. He’s immune to drowning.” She glared at her mother with her full force. “How about you?”

She sagged. “You’re a monster.”

Zara pulled her son out of her mother’s lax arms. “Thank goodness. Because then I’m that much farther away from being related to you.”

Her mother stared at Zara like she didn’t know her.

She didn’t.

Zara had fought her and won.

Her son’s little arms tightened around her neck. Zara rocked her baby gently, soaking his bunny-print onesie against her freezing, wet clothes. Blanket, she needed a blanket. But despite the wet and cold, baby Zain didn’t let go.

Elan dragged her father through the obstacle course of the corridor and dumped him 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 good and ready.”

“You owe us. For everything. We gave you that 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 was to 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 police ship 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 her parents.

Milly met them back at the dock, worried stiff and badly frightened.

Her mother screamed at Milly as well for being ungrateful. Milly turned bright red. The polícia 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. Zara curled up in her bed, Zain passed out against her chest, and Elan curved protectively over both of them. They slept together as a family.

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 called her mother’s bluff and won.

A new stirring of power moved within her.

If she could win against her parents, maybe she could win against anything.

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 practice. Our swim to save Zain was not stealthy.”

Cold dropped into her belly. “You think your warriors are here? They might have overheard?”

“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 had caused a tectonic shift in her attitude. She suddenly believed his words again, and she dedicated herself to capturing her power.

She started every morning and ended every night with one hundred foot exercises, trying to make her stubby human feet unfold into rippling mer fins. She went to a new freshwater lagoon on the island every afternoon. After a 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.

Also every night, instead of feeling more healed by their closeness, Elan stayed awake afterward with her nestled against his side and stared at the ceiling.

He thought he had prepared himself for the day she must meet the warriors and drive them off, but the more she trained herself, the more real and imminent the moment felt.

And he was terrified.

Zara’s soul was so bright she lit the darkness with her glow. She ought to have transformed her fins already. What was holding her back? Until she could transform her fins and use her powers, she was vulnerable. And if she was vulnerable, she was in danger.

Elan feared meeting the warriors too soon and losing 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, and she settled back to sleep, but his body tensed up in waves. He wanted to hold her like a limpet to a rock. Anchor her here, to this bed, to this hour, where it was safe.

He wasn’t the only one feeling anxiety. The following day, Zara sat at the lakeside endlessly flexing her human toes while her beautiful hair dried in the sun. Zain played in the muck. Vibrant green water reflected the hilly landscape and gray, cloud-skiffed sky.

“I think the natural pools at Varadouro are walled off.” She switched feet. “The hypersaline water is separated from the ocean by volcanic cliffs.”

“No going near the ocean,” he growled. “Not until you can make your fins.”

“Maybe salt water will trigger my fins.”

“Then pour salt in a bathtub.”

“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 at her quietly playing son.

In addition to practicing her fins and arguing with Border and Immigration, Zara also listened to harbor reports shared by Vaw Vaw’s uncles. Each island was the size of an oceanic region and yet strangers to whom they owed nothing called the uncles to pass on messages. Humans on another island might have seen mer warriors. The early morning sun had partially blinded the observers’ eyes, but the lumpy shadows had floated, suspiciously human-shaped, before disappearing beneath the waves.

“Surfacing around here is a pretty big risk,” Zara mentioned to Elan later that night over a dish full of spiced sausages and stewed greens. Zain rested on her lap carefully eating cooled shreds of spicy pork and mashed vegetables. “Lots of humans scuba dive in these waters. 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.”

“We will avoid the shore and eliminate our risk.”

She nodded, relaxed, but Elan’s muscles twitched, urging him to action. He must defend Zara and protect Zain, but on land, he couldn’t see his enemy. He didn’t know which way to move or how to attack. The danger was hidden behind a great cloud of swirling sand and he was caught in the blind center.

Someday, perhaps, the mer population would grow as numerous as the humans, but only if Zara protected their family from the All-Council. Atlantis was a growing beacon of hope with their brides and young fry. His family would be another. Tiny pinpricks of light against an ocean of darkness. If his and Zara’s family died, then the dream of a human-mer partnership died as well…

Time was running out. He could feel danger gathering around them like storm clouds.

Zara was discouraged 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. Float until your faith returns.”

She rubbed her face. “It’s been almost two weeks.”

He pulled her off the log and into the marshy water. “Swim.”

She rose reluctantly. Her slumped shoulders declared defeat. “Maybe it’s me. I’m not like those other queens. They didn’t spend a year running away.”

“Their power is within you.”

“But maybe it’s not.”

“It is. We will discover it together. Come.”

Zara sighed and trudged into the lake, then submerged and shifted to gills. Elan took her hand, meshing her human fingers to his webbed mer hand. Together, 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 on the shoreline as they pulled their human clothes on. “Are you sure I can’t channel this power first, then make my fins later?”

“Yes, I think it must go in the correct order.” He dried Zain and put on the diaper. Although he was not as nimble fastening it as Zara, he was becoming an expert at the sticky tabs. “All the queens had fins.”

“All three of them.” She frowned and flexed her fingers. “It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m doing it. 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, then shrugged and sighed. “Maybe I’m fooling myself and 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.”

“You must not doubt yourself.”

“I know, I know. It’s hard, though. I’m trying with everything I’ve got! What do I need to do to shake things loose?”

He thought about it during the short hike across the primordial forest to the road, where Milly picked them up in her sedan.

Perhaps the ocean tides had more impact than he realized. Similarities 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.

Over breakfast the next day, they planned their ocean swim like a military exercise. Zara wanted to try the hyper saline spa pools at Varadouro. Elan disagreed.

“The reef where I surfaced has a good area for practice.” On her kitchen table, using seasoning jars and napkins, he modeled the familiar coral landscape. “There is also 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. Humans 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 drive us?”

Zara checked the wall clock. “She’s leaving for a morning class soon.”

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 seats while she drove them to the beach. Her soul light had been much darkened recently. It had dimmed shortly before her parents’ attack and remained at a lowered level ever since. She seemed to feel guilty for the kidnapping. Every time she looked at Zara or Zain, she dimmed even further.

But Milly did not express her guilt aloud, and Zara seemed distracted and did not ask. Of course, she could not see Milly’s soul light. Perhaps Elan would mention it to her after they returned from this excursion. He needed all of his focus on the swim.

While driving, Milly told Zara about someone she’d met online.

“A friend of Lucy, the first queen,” Milly said. “She sent me an info packet about their support group. I went to print it out the night the police called about the locksmith. The packet is supposed to have more information about your powers. You can read it if you don’t make your fins today.”

“I’ll make them.” Zara rubbed her fists on her denim shorts. “I can feel it.”

“Okay, well, good luck.”

Milly parked, and they all got out. She waved to Elan and wiggled her fingers at Zain.

Zain smiled back at her and made a “goo” sound.

Milly giggled.

Elan’s heart squeezed. His son was finally opening up. Instead of being silent and frozen with fear, he was becoming comfortable with the routine of his new family.

He must protect them. Zain and Zara. The responsibility was solely his.

Elan must not fail. Zain wiggled. Elan had tightened his grip unconsciously. He loosened.

Milly drove away. He moved to a more private section of the crowded public beach and Zara took Zain. Elan 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 scout carefully.”

Baby Zain struggled to get free, stretching his arms out urgently for 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. “They will never expose themselves, not even to get Zain. If I see any signs of warriors, I will return at once.”

She hugged Zain. “Be careful.”

Elan abruptly removed his towel, handed it to Zara, 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 must be out hunting.

Prickling danger crawled up the back of his neck.

No signs of a war party. The mer he’d heard the last time he’d swum here could have moved on to any island in the archipelago. Maybe they were the ones who’d been seen far away.

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 waves. A beautiful smile lit his small, chubby face.

Elan’s 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 were carved around her eyes. “Is it safe?”

He took Zain. “Can you make your fins here, in the shallows?”

She balanced against Elan in the knee-high surf and rotated her ankles. He kept Zain above water despite the baby’s protests.

Eventually, she gave up. “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. “The day you surfaced was the first time I got so close to the ocean since I was kicked out of Dragao Azul. Coming here again is more nerve-wracking than I thought it would be.”

“Were you not grateful to be back at the surface?”

She snorted. “No.”

“Warriors are told our brides do not truly wish to stay with us because they would miss the air world too much. You missed it a little when you were with me.”

“I missed Milly.”

“Then, you were grateful to return.”

She looked at him strangely. “I was worried sick about you and Zain. If your people, who supposedly ‘treasured’ their city’s brides, would drag me through the ocean so brutally that I nearly bled to death, then what were they doing to you two? Or so I thought.”

Wait. “They returned you while you were bleeding? In the open water?”

“The whole way,” she said matter-of-factly. “Making a woman exercise hard immediately after giving birth is usually bad for her health.”

A dangerous blackness opened in his belly. His fingers flexed for his trident. “They did not let you rest? They did not stop to heal you?”

“Nope. They dragged me to the land and made me stagger out of the water. I was so light-headed I nearly passed out. I got liters of blood at the hospital.”

The blackness pulsed and swirled. “They told me no harm had come to you. That you had walked away grateful to be back in the air world.”

“Well, you know what that means, don’t you?”

He didn’t know what that meant. Nothing made any sense anymore. “No.”

“They lied.”

The truth struck him like a lightning strike.

He’d ached for her, missing her severely in those early days, but his aches had been tempered with gratitude. He’d thought that at least she had been conveyed safely back to her people.

“I believed them,” he said, and his voice broke.

Her features softened and she touched his arm. “You’re trusting.”

“I am stupid.” He looked down at his scarred hands. The scarred lines had started to knit together, his advanced healing activated by being in the loving presence of his soul mate. The fractures of his tattoos straightened and aligned. “I never thought my warriors, my elders, would do such a thing to a bride…”

“Well, they erased my name from their records, so was I really a bride…?”

He choked. “Yes.”

She took a breath and let it out, then rested her palm against his. “Anyway, I was hoping my nervousness would go away, but it’s taking a while. Probably the memories are dimming my soul or something. We can try at the lake again.”

He flexed his fingers to trap her hand.

They had both been treated horrendously by his people. No wonder she feared the water and couldn’t make her fins. He wanted to go back in time and shake his naïve self. The one who’d been sure that, even if the worst happened, his people would still treasure Zara and respect her as a bride.

He’d been wrong on every level.

Any loyalty he’d ever felt to his city or his people died.

He pressed her fingers to his lips, repeating the words he’d spoken the first day. “You are my home. I need no one and nothing but you.”

Her gaze caught on his, held steady. Her soul flared with light and tears glimmered in her eyes. “I do love you, you know.”

He felt the same way.

He loved her. And he loved Zain. They were the two halves of his heart. Losing either one would be fatal.

He forced aside his fears. “Come. Swim with me. 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 dove with Zain.

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.

The sandy shallows obscured their family from the depths and also hid them from any observers. 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 will 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 catch up. Will you catch him?”

Elan flicked his fins and easily herded his disgruntled son inland.

She swam near Zain. The surface shimmered overhead and the volcanic sand puffed softly with the ocean tides. Zara smiled at him. Her soul light flared.

“Do you feel it?” he rumbled, vibrating in his chest. “Your power.”

Her flare dimmed. 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. Zara drifted over the vibrant reef, delved her fingers into the black sand with Zain, and paddled after the free-floating parrot fish and loose rock coral.

Elan kept them close to the shore and attuned all his senses out.

At the rock formation, they turned around to swim back to their starting location.

She drifted close to him, vibrating softly, “Is everything okay?”

“That is my question for you. Any progress?”

She flexed her unforgiving toes. “No. 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.”

“Keep trying.”

Zain gurgled.

Suddenly, the cave guardian jetted across the sand toward them. It made a burbling squeaking noise.

He focused outward.

Was something chasing the cave guardian?

“Elan? Oh, it’s the octopus.” Her welcoming tone sharpened. “Something’s chasing him.”

“Shore. Now.”

Behind the cave guardian flew the shadows of warriors. Tridents raised, they flew at Elan’s family 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 with fear. She turned and kicked helplessly toward shore, moving much too slowly on her human feet. “Zain? Zain!”

Their son had drifted up the shoreline so Elan was no longer between him and the incoming warriors.

Curse it.

He kicked sideways, putting himself in front of Zara’s teeth-grindingly slow pace.

Zara reached Zain and shooed him toward the beach and safety.

Elan braced in the deeper water.

But in his peripheral vision, hidden warriors shot across the shallows toward Zara and Zain. His stomach dropped. They had swum into 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 the trio of warriors who slashed at him with their much longer tridents. Scars marked the brow of one warrior. Another was young, just out of training. A third was bulky but fleet. They were not from Dragao Azul.

They had the advantage but he had been First Lieutenant. That position was given to the city’s best leader—and also the city’s best fighter.

He fought maniacally 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, their leader swam inland 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?” Elan 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 returned, his chest heaving to pull in water. “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 cornering an angry exile.

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. “The All-Council stole my young fry first! I returned him to his mother.”

“He has no mother.”

“That is obviously a lie. We all have a mother, Commander Haren. We were not born from the rocks and the sky.”

“All mer are born motherless.” Commander Haren repeated All-Council platitudes in a bored tone. “They are mothered by their city and by the Life Tree.”

The trio of warriors flexed, preparing themselves for another round.

Elan 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.”

Behind him, 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 capture 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 blood 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 shock and 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 the invisible glass 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 encircled Elan. He forced sandy seawater in and out of his gills. His shoulders shook with the fight. The 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, soothing their signs of discomfort. “And no one will. If you will drop your blades.”

Elan 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 learn to channel those unnatural 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’d trusted him, again, and he’d failed her, again.

And now, he begged for her life by saying the worst things he could think of.

“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. “You said I could 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. Bitterness and 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 to keep her safe. “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, Zara 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 surfaced alone, wounded from the seaweed rope burns on her wrists and ankles, into the worried arms of witnesses who had seen everything.

She went to the police station. They took her report. She went to Borders and Immigration. They closed Elan and Zain’s files. She went home.

There is nothing you can do.

How many times did she hear 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 the clock.

Five minutes. Not hours. Only 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 might 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 muscles jumped. She had to do something. The numbness wouldn’t come. Her brain wouldn’t shut down. And her body was ready. She was not wrecked with injury or blood loss or being told she was crazy. Not this time.

Everything was Elan’s fault.

He had encouraged her, pushed her, helped her face and defeat her parents. Power burned within her but she couldn’t unleash it. If she could, she would have transformed and helped. Saved Zain. Saved Elan.

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 the immigration agents, 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 was tinged with subtle disappointment.

“Maybe it’s for the best.” The agony stabbed deeper. Zara folded her arms trying to hold it in. “Our parents’ trial is coming up. I’ll be here to give testimony this time.”

“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 world 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 talk to someone. Lucy’s friend might know how you can make your fins.”

“So what if I can? I’m helpless whenever Elan’s people attack. I freeze up and become useless.”

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 never thought I would ever do. And then you rescued me.”

“But I left you again.” Zara snorted. “Besides, if my college found out that a Social Justice major was too busy to notice her own sister being trafficked they 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 people. Everyone.

“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.

Milly’s lips trembled. “Okay? You have to fight. Or else…I did something terrible.”

“Oh?”

“It’s been eating me up inside. I think I have a new ulcer.” Pained eyes focused on Zara. “I was the one who contacted our parents.”

It didn’t make sense. “Why?”

“You were so worried about Zain and Elan, and 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?”

Zara’s stomach rolled. “You still 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’d escaped the country. If they did it, you could too. And she actually replied. With all these questions! I thought she was asking for details so she could help us come up with an escape plan.” Milly dropped her forehead on the manila. Her voice was muffled. “I told her everything she needed to kidnap Zain.”

It still didn’t make any sense. “Milly, why? You know what kind of people they are.”

“I’m the one they target.” Milly lifted her head. “I thought, if it’s you, they’d help.”

Zara pointed at the scar above her own eyebrow. “This is from where Dad threw a wine bottle with a broken neck at my head.”

Milly fixed on the scar as if she’d never seen it before. “I don’t remember that.”

“You were three. They considered you the ‘valuable’ one.”

“Really?”

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 went after them and brought them to justice. I can’t even see their pictures without feeling this horrible, dark, squeezing in the pit of my stomach.” Milly rested her hands on her stomach and then lifted her trembling fingers. “Look. Even thinking about them makes me start to shake.”

Zara felt a stillness come over her.

This was her fault. Once again, trying to crush down the bad memories and avoid them had made things worse for everyone.

But that wasn’t happening anymore.

“I’m sorry, Milly. I didn’t talk about the bad times. I thought I was protecting you, but that just made you think you were their only victim.”

“Even so, I drew them here.” Milly covered her face. “Because of that, you and Elan jumped in the water to save Zain. It revealed your location to the bad warriors. Everything’s my fault.”

“I disagree and I forgive you,” Zara said.

Milly’s mouth opened and closed. “What?”

“I think you made an honest mistake. I’ve made a lot of them, too. Before, I was trying to run away from everything, but I can’t anymore, so there’s only one thing left to do.”

“What?”

Zara curled her hands into fists. “Get really, really angry.”

Milly’s eyes widened.

Then, unexpectedly, she started to laugh. “Are you serious? Zara? That’s your big plan? Get mad?”

“Really mad,” Zara confirmed, feeling the waves of anger rising along with all the other emotions she was no longer trying to control or suppress. “Really uncontrollably furious.”

Milly’s tears mixed with her disbelieving mirth, an emotional reaction to releasing her guilt while trying to accept that Zara had instantly forgiven her, and Zara didn’t mind at all.

Trying to forget her painful memories hadn’t worked. Avoiding the bad feelings hadn’t worked either. So, she was going to welcome them to the max. She was going to feel devastated and furious and helpless and weak from the tips of her ears all the way to her toes.

“Ah, I don’t know, running away doesn’t seem that bad.” Milly wiped her cheeks with a sigh. “If you ran away a little faster, you could’ve gotten away with Zain to the shore.”

“I did get to the shore,” Zara said.

Milly blinked. She hadn’t been present for Zara’s reports. She’d only picked her up afterward. “You did? But I thought that was the safe zone. You were supposed to be safe as long as you made it to the shore.”

“I did make it to the shore. We were well above the water line, on dried sand even…”

Muscles burning, puking water, she’d stumbled out of the surf with her sobbing baby. Elan had promised the warriors would not chase her onto the land. They wouldn’t expose themselves to humans. Terror had fought exhaustion as she staggered with Zain to the high tide mark. Several people had crowded close, asking if she was okay. She’d pushed through them, her eyes focused on the parking lot, on the police, on the hills—

Terrified screams had erupted behind her. A seaweed net had slapped wetly over her, knocking her down. She clutched Zain and tried to rotate so she hit first, sheltering him from her weight and the sand.

A naked merman had walked through the shocked crowds and dragged her back into the ocean.

“He broke their rules,” Zara murmured, feeling the unfairness of it throbbing hotter. Instinctively she wanted to avoid it or think of something else, but she forced herself to feel the injustice hot in her chest. “Those warriors broke their own rules. They can’t get away with that.”

Milly watched her, worry mixed with hope. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What’s the support organization? The one for the first queen?” Zara pointed at the manilla folder. “She was driven out of her city, too, wasn’t she? I want to talk to her.”

“That’s great. I’m so grateful you feel that way.” Milly stood suddenly with a grimace of guilt. “I kind of texted them when you got up from your nap that now’s a good time to visit.”

Zara rose as well. “The first queen is here?”

“Her friend. I called a couple hours ago while you were at the police station, and she got on a plane right away. You can ask her your questions.” Milly opened the back door to reveal a friendly woman. “This is Mel.”

The woman on their back step, Mel, was a stranger, but she greeted Zara and Milly 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 his kind is recognized by the government.”

Milly snorted with amusement. Zara forced a smile.

“Her dad’s out of town this week. Our older three are at sleepovers and I couldn’t arrange last-minute sitting, but I thought this was too important, so here we are.”

“Thank you.” Zara fought to reconcile her conflicting emotions. “You have four children? I have one. It’s nice that you can be with your family.”

“It is. I hope you can say the same shortly.” Mel smiled tightly. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Zara 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 run an organization,” Zara said, trying to remember what Milly had told her when she’d been determined to avoid the mer world and anything related to it.

“Yes, and as part of that, I’m collecting the stories of past and present queens.” Mel held up a thick manila folder. “I think a lot more people are affected by our various governments’ indecision about how to treat mermen seeking asylum. You’re the most recent example. 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 help more willing women live their dreams as mermaid queens,” Mel corrected. “We want them 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.”

“They wouldn’t have left us alone,” she said, unable to dismiss the bitterness. “The problematic mer are worldwide.”

“It would have given you more time to get ready to fight.”

“I might never have been ready.”

Mel eyed her shrewdly. “Do you really believe that’s true?”

She’d felt the tingles…

Earlier today, in the middle of the attack—Zara forced herself to relive the chaotic emotions of it, the fear and weeping and helpless fury—she’d felt the tingling surge in her fingertips when the mer warrior had tried to stab Elan. At the last moment, his dagger had miraculously veered away and missed Elan’s heart.

That hadn’t had anything to do with her, though.

Had it?

“Why are you here?” Zara 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, which I hope to put in front of some very important representatives soon.”

“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 to help you.”

“Help me how? You can’t bring my family back up from Dragao Azul.”

“No. But I know someone who could bring you down to them.”

Zara straightened. “Me and what army?”

Mel grinned. “Well, I hope by the time we’re through here, you’ll be the army.”

Zara reluctantly consented to the interview. During the course of the recording, Mel asked a standard set of questions and follow-ups, but she also slipped in details from her past interviews.

One detail was that, in fact, many women had made their powers before developing their fins, including Lucy. There were no rules to the development of magical powers. So, Zara could already have hers even without her fins.

“But I couldn’t use a magical superpower and not know it,” Zara protested.

“Actually….” Mel flipped through her folder of past interviews. “One bride stopped a rock slide from crushing the city’s Life Tree, and another bride drove off a shark with what she described as ‘sparkling white sand.’ No one recognized either woman as doing anything special. They blamed currents, luck, or in the case of the shark, it was a ‘freak underwater sandstorm.’ But now, with our greater knowledge, we think they were undocumented uses of power.”

Then…she might have even used her own powers earlier today and not known it?

Worse than that, she’d possibly used her powers and everyone had said, to her face, that she hadn’t done anything.

Elan had insisted she had no powers. He’d done it to protect her, she knew, but he’d still believed his own words. He’d convinced the others.

He’d even convinced her.

Old anger kindled in her chest.

Her parents had called her stupid from a very young age. They’d poisoned her psyche since her vulnerable, impressionable childhood.

How dare these men hoodwink her?

As an adult?

She had allowed herself to be fooled. Elan too. He’d learned a “truth” — that she had to make her fins before she could get her powers—and repeated it blindly, assuming it was the only way. Just like their attackers believed the ancient covenant was the only way to live or raise a family. They were wrong.

“I also might have channeled my powers,” Zara said. “No, not ‘might have’. I did channel them. I saved my husband’s life and nobody even noticed.”

Mel smiled warmly. “Can you remember how you felt the moment the power flowed through you? You’ll need to create that feeling again.”

“Actually, yes.” Zara remembered exactly how she’d felt. “I got so angry that it flipped around to calm, if that makes any sense.”

“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to me so long as it makes sense to you.” Mel jotted down a note, checking the camera was still recording. “Have you felt that way before?”

In fact, she’d hit the same “distilled anger” when she’d stormed her parents’ yacht to save Zain. Helplessness had dissolved into a pure, white, cleansing fury.

“Yes.”

Mel’s smile broadened and shut off the recording. “When did you want to leave for Dragao Azul?”

The next events happened quickly, but Zara was used to that. Jumping on a plane in the middle of senior finals to save her sister, accepting a mysterious sea lord’s proposal during the first meeting, and storming an undersea city were her kind of crazy.

Mel had rented a van. She drove everyone down to the beach. Despite what had happened there 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.

The next time she was here on the surface, she would be with Zain and Elan.

Or else.

On the beach, a dark-haired man strolled with an uneven gate toward them. He wore a mauve dress shirt and classy trousers.

Mel unzipped a large duffel and offered her two magenta plastic scuba fins. “These were Lucy’s. I’m not sure about the fit. I’ve got her swim socks in here as well.”

Zara lifted the plastic skeptically. “Plastic? Really?”

“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 the intricate mauve tattoos swirling across his face. His mer tattoos were punctured with vicious, recent scars, like Elan’s but not at all healed. He should be taller, but an old injury forced him to hunch.

“This is Faier,” Mel said. “He’ll guide you to Dragao Azul.”

Faier 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.” Zara took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Wait. Let me get your social media statement.” Mel messed with her phone.

“Right now?”

“What do you want to say to the visitors on Lucy’s Facebook page? They’re mostly seeking information on the mer and their brides.” She pointed the phone at Zara. “Tell me about yourself, who you are, and what’s going on here.”

Oh. This was a good chance. “Can I make this a message to all the other brides?”

“Honey, you can make your message to anyone in the whole world.”

Zara stared directly into the tiny lens. “My name is Zara. I was a sacred bride in Dragao Azul. It was an accident that I was there. I went in the place of my sister, and I went willingly down to the city as his bride. But I did not agree to abandon my son. Neither did my husband.”

Milly and Faier listened intently. Violet played quietly in the black sand. The camera recorded every word.

“Today, warriors stole my husband and son away from me. They came onto 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 my family back.”

Zara nodded. She was done.

Mel slowly lowered the camera. Her smile held hope tinged with sadness.

Zara understood Mel’s feelings. Mel, too, was a mother and a wife as well as an interviewer of sacred brides. “Honorable” warriors had caused so much pain and sadness. The ancient covenant continued to wreck lives. Now it forced Zara to go to battle.

“Stay strong.” Mel shook her hand. “Good luck.”

Zara nodded and turned to her sister.

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 some days.”

“We’ll watch for you,” Mel told him. “We’re holding the grand opening of the dating site until you return.”

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.

The warriors she was going to face had so much hostility. They were angry males who had wanted to kill her. For them, she represented the enemy in a holy war between their past and future.

Now, she entered their ring as a crusader.

Milly took Zara’s bunched clothes and hugged her one last time at the very edge of the shore. In Zara’s ear, her worry whispered. “Come back.”

Zara stroked her sister’s hair like she used to do long ago. Then, she waved at Mel and Violet on the beach, turned, and followed the already disappeared mer Faier into the ocean.

Zara might die a martyr.

But first, she would crusade.

Elan’s journey back to Dragao Azul took much longer than normal.

His bicep injury healed quickly, but he’d severely injured several warriors, and their trailed blood enticed 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. 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 Dragao Azul’s 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 were interconnected in concentric circles radiating out from the Life Tree. Connected at the roots, the city literally was its Life Tree. If Dragao Azul’s Life Tree died, all the castles would wilt to muck and the city itself would rot into oblivion.

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 was rooted. The noise of the ocean became muted and a holy stillness seeped into his veins.

Elan had saved Zara. Whatever punishment lay ahead—dishonor, dismemberment, death—Elan would suffer it willingly because she still 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’s 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 do you mean?”

The elders toward the Life Tree as though responding to a silent summons. The warriors followed. Elan, still bound, thrashed in place. 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 it securely to the deep seafloor. 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.

It was Dragao Azul’s king!

The foreign army forced the unarmed city warriors into a ring around their own Life Tree. Impassive, the invaders’ tridents were displayed in warning and they prepared to cut down dissenters.

One of the All-Council’s highest-ranked generals presided. It was a male Elan recognized with discomfort. General Iner.

General Iner sneered at Dragao Azul’s king and gestured at Commander Haren, who was 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 eyes.

“Silence, General Elan. You will call me Adviser Iner!” His bent trident jabbed the underside of Elan’s jaw.

“Adviser?” 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 with the city that spawned so many betrayers: Dragao Azul.”

Elan’s stomach turned.

Adviser Creo had judged Atlantis to be unworthy and had ordered its destruction. Kadir and Soren had both come from Dragao Azul. And Elan himself could now be considered a betrayer for having abandoned the armies.

“You act out of turn,” Elan insisted. “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 adviser. You are a general. Stop this now.”

“The All-Council would do it, but I am too busy to get stopped by formalities.” Iner motioned to a special group of his warriors. “Begin.”

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 Dragao Azul’s helpless warriors. “Respect our judgment and die!”

“No!” Elan thrashed against his bonds. 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.

At that time, General Iner had been worried. “We must offer them asylum,” General Iner had said, nobly and correctly.

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 had been one more bitter reason 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 had madly declared himself an adviser, passed judgment on their city, and now threatened to execute their Life Tree.

Iner swam back and forth in front of their king, ranting. “The All-Council 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 to lead our army. You knew 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 swam back and forth before the Life Tree.

Below, the execution squad fitted together a chain of serrated blades to saw the Life Tree stalk.

Elan struggled in his bolas.

“Stop,” Dosan whispered.

Elan bared his teeth, his vibrations near silent. “Dragao Azul is under attack.”

“The king will give his life to spare ours.”

“They will not stop with his life. 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,” Elan vibrated softly, chafing his wrists against the taut bolas, “but I will not allow Dragao Azul to die without a fight. I cannot let my son die without any fight.”

The others straightened, listening to him.

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. It was tacit support for 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, but our king refused to believe it. He did nothing to prepare.”

“Because he had no reason to,” 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 elders talked of it but the king would not listen. We are an example.”

“We would have avoided this trial if you did not return.” Dosan glowered at Elan. “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.”

Dosan, Uvim, and the others were not bound in bolas. None of the warriors of Dragao Azul were. They did not fight back because they were honor-bound by the word of their king.

The king would do anything to protect his warriors. Blindly, he hamstrung them at the moment they most needed to fight.

A new realization broke over him.

Was he really so different from the king?

Elan had ordered Zara not to fight. Not to even try. Was it really to keep her safe? Or was it because he was afraid of failing her again? He had bound her with an order to remain on the shore, powerless, while enemies made off with him and her son. Again.

He should’ve roared at her to fight. He should have insisted she develop her powers right then.

Because if the execution squad cut down the Life Tree, all the warriors of Dragao Azul would die, including Zain. Their son was in extreme danger and Elan had denied Zara the chance to protect him.

Release your fears, he’d told her. Embrace your 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.

Elan had feared his own failure more than he had respected his wife’s power.

Zara was a true warrior.

He was a betrayer.

“This city produces defective warriors.” 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. But who will uphold the law if an All-Council general is the violator?”

“I have the All-Council’s blessing,” Iner growled.

“Then the All-Council violates every rule of honorable warfare!”

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. “General…no. First Lieutenant Elan, it is your job to execute warriors who violate the laws.”

Elan waited 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 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.

Commander Haren 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, First Lieutenant. Save our young fry. You were always…honorable.”

“No,” Elan murmured. “I am 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. It was impossible to run. The darkness caught up and forced him to feel the truth deep inside his bones.

He was dishonorable.

And a dishonorable warrior disobeyed.

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, both at Elan’s volume and also because it was the first line of the familiar chant recited by 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 at 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.

The “honorable” First Lieutenant Elan would have obeyed his king’s orders without question. Fearful Elan would sacrifice the whole city, mer by mer, to protect his son.

But this 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. Elan’s 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 in, weapons out.

Elan brought his trident down and sliced through the king’s bonds. The king 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 as he turned to face the first attackers. “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 mindlessly after Faier.

He was lithe under the water. His extensive scars did seem to slow him down 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. She and Faier followed yipping pods of dolphins down to wailing blue whales. At the lower depths, Faier switched currents, and the deep “skies” filled with melodic, hundred-pound groupers, timorous swordfish, and arrogant tuna.

Once, Faier broke the silence to ask if she needed to rest.

She didn’t dare stop. “I can push on.”

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 animal 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. From such a great distance, any nuisances were easily avoided.

Faier focused on their journey. 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.”

“Elan was stabbed in the arm,” she vibrated soberly.

“I think it is more than one,” he vibrated in response.

Zara had no choice but to trust Faier. His unshakable calm made him easy to trust. Not once had he questioned her plans or tried to talk her out of her quest.

“Are you from Dragao Azul?” she asked, kicking to follow him into the new current. “I don’t remember you. Not that I met all the warriors. I was locked inside Elan’s castle most of the time. Although he did occasionally sneak me out.”

“I am from Atlantis.”

“Did you ever meet Elan?” she asked casually.

“I tried to kill him several times.”

So he knew. “Thank you for helping us.”

He glanced back. His dark eyes focused on her. “I am helping you.”

“Why?”

“I know the pain of faithfully serving a city and then being forced to leave.” He kicked out of rhythm. “Honors stripped and dreams crushed even though you did nothing wrong.”

“Yes,” she vibrated fiercely. “That’s it exactly.”

“I will lead you to your city.” Faier faced forward again. His chest vibrations floated back to her clearly. “But you must demand justice.”

He led her to the outer edges of Dragao Azul’s territory. The ocean seemed quiet. The bare rocky sea bottom gave way to vibrant coral forests and dense sea life.

In the distance, gigantic green castles floated like big balloons around the brilliantly glowing center. The city Life Tree was like a mighty oak that had shed its leaves, its bare branches dripping with sparkling pearlescent Sea Opals. Thought to cure 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. 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 surrounds the city.”

“Where?”

He pointed.

Small dots moved like ants in the infinite distance. But there were a large number, and they buzzed the city like flies over rotting meat.

“Uh-oh,” she vibrated.

“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 of the army flew forward. Their tridents formed a bristling lattice of metal like a barricade. “Halt!”

Faier stopped. “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. This army was twice or three times the population of Dragao Azul. They had the hard, hungry look of brutal warriors who could raze the city at the slightest provocation.

Idly, she noted they were all naked. Even the leader had a giant, lax cock swirled with two-tone tattoos in gunmetal gray and subtle purple orchid. Faier was the same, but somehow, she couldn’t really focus on that fact. As soon as she’d hit the waves and converted over to “mer” sight, she couldn’t be bothered to care about it.

This army certainly didn’t pay any attention to her bits. She might as well be wrapped head-to-toe in a shapeless curtain. And that was just fine with her.

“I am Commander Faro, second unit, assigned to the All-Council.” The leader 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 were instantly silenced.

He raised a proud countenance. “You are mistaken. The traitor and his young fry belong here. Return the bride to the surface where she belongs or we will do it for you.”

Faier twisted his grip on his trident. “You must not touch another warrior’s bride.”

Commander Faro did the same. “We obey the rules, rebel scum.”

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 stupid rules, not mine.”

Commander Faro’s gaze flicked to her. “What?”

“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. 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. And Commander Haren commended my accomplishment!”

“You will be dealt with later.” 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. “Yet 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 to pass.

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.”

The trio obeyed.

To Faier, Commander Faro 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, Elan’s castle, 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 attacks.

But this wasn’t a double-cross. The trio of army warriors guiding them looked at each other and darted toward the commotion, forgetting their guard duties and leaving her far behind.

Zara hurried, swishing the magenta fins, her nerves tightening.

Faier grimly stayed by her side.

She kicked around the innermost castle into a scene of chaos.

Their bruised, bloodied king 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 and ending with, “Dragao Azul! Dragao Azul! Dragao Azul!”

Go Elan.

Bare-handed warriors ringing the Life Tree began fighting their well-armed captors.

“Someone shut him up!” An irritated leader-type warrior shouted. That must be General Iner. “Execute the king. Destroy the Life Tree!”

She started to swim toward him.

“Wait.” Faier held out his trident to stop her.

Two warriors tumbled right in front of her, slashing the water and snarling.

Faier dropped his trident. “Now, go.”

“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 murmured. 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 gave Elan his blades.

Elan rested the trident on his knee and strapped on his weapons. “Where did you find these?”

“The reef octopus collected them.”

Warriors circled them, 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.

There, on the outer rim of the brewing fight, was Zain. He was being held by the commander.

Elan 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 holding 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.

The 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’s not allowed.

The Life Tree was innocent. Injustice burned in Zara’s chest with a sharp, clear light. Her hands tingled. She directed her anger in a calm force.

A white sandstorm engulfed the warriors holding 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 pointed at her and 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 her 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 with dark sapphire tattoos taunted his enemies loudly, while 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 males would not be enough to fight the waves of foreign warriors massing.

“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.

The entire city, elders and trainees alike, was united, at last, in the battle for their city.

Zara’s soul light shone with the same brilliant resonance as the Life Tree. She focused on its protection. They focused on hers.

Elan turned back to the fight with Commander Haren. His supporting warriors fell back under Elan’s trident. Commander Haren quickly bound Zain with a bola and settled into the fight.

Zain’s bitter howls distracted Elan, as did his fears for Zara. Distraction gave him a disadvantage and 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 commander’s 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 dagger 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.

The commander 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 its rebellion.”

“My warriors died at the Battle for Atlantis because of your betrayal!” Commander Haren snarled.

“I regret that. But the world has changed, Commander. You cannot hold a handful of sand against a tsunami. If the All-Council continues this doomed campaign, how many more cities will you turn against you?”

“You will all die!”

“We have a queen. Our city will thrive. You lost today.”

The commander swore at him.

Behind Elan, Dragao Azul warriors 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 to him, ignoring Elan. “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 until every one of you is broken, 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 her 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? The connection I share with 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 are wrong. 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. He embraces modern brides. 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 at 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 alone to raise our young fries.”

Iner sneered. “That is something you will not experience.”

“Why? Because I will stab myself in my big, bright heart? Once, I would have obeyed you.” 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 and flew at Iner.

Iner stopped smiling.

“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 defeat, 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 stronger than before.

The scarred Atlantean, Faier, remained with them to re-establish 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 “launching 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 can send a warning, do so.”

“There will be consequences,” Faier said to Elan softly. “Your king did not listen to the warning but others might. 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 exile. She endured their reunion stiffly but did not snatch Zain back.

“Thank you for protecting my queen,” Elan told Faier gruffly. Considering Elan’s dishonorable attempts to hurt the Atlantis 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 a male with such scars?

Zara had fallen in love with Elan after a single meeting. They had 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, the 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 in sneaking Zain out of Dragao Azul, the army would have been upon him and the city might have been quickly wiped out. Instead, Iner delayed the city’s punishment until he could assemble 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. We need all the bodies we can get.”

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 vibrated, 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 want us to take the middle current. We will confirm it with him once he has healed.”

Barely pacified, the elders moved off.

Zara and Zain remained near the king. 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. “You must 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 intention of 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. My life is 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 you’re 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 her I’d be there this time. Also, I need to update the other brides about what happened. They need to know that if they were pushed out of their cities, 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 for now,” she told the king. “I’m going to protect the Life Tree and this city because it’s 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 her rules for the king on 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 retained authority. “I understand.”

“Good.” She 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 told the king. “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 his equal.

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’d come to her. She needed to make things clear to him.

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. Her son 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. So, to say she had trust issues was putting it mildly.

Apparently Dragao Azul had to rebuild. It had been under hostile rule the entire time Elan had been on the surface with her. Elan acted as first lieutenant without showing any of the resentment that Zara would have felt—that she continued to feel—as he 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.”

The last of the warriors nodded at Dosan. “Understood!”

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 serve with honor.”

Elan noted his reaction. “Then, 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 that had dragged her to the surface a year ago. Unlike bitter, argumentative Soren, these two had completed the task looking green the whole time, like they felt as sick as she did, and wanted to throw up.

She still hated them, but since they’d been the first warriors to rally to her side during the recent fight, she felt capable of forgiving them.

Probably.

“I am not worthy to replace you,” Dosan vibrated. “The king had promoted a trainee to First Lieutenant, but that young male has been missing since the army arrived. We are worried for him.”

Both Dosan and Uvim clenched a fist over their hearts.

Elan mirrored the gesture. “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.”

“Remind him it is possible to make a dire mistake and, despite having lost all honor, to still serve the city. I have done so. I am, in fact, currently doing so. It is harder to fight after a defeat, and even harder when the defeat is in your own heart.”

Dosan nodded as if Elan had spoken straight to his own feelings. 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 gaped. “You do not comprehend your insult.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t comprehend, bub. Elan told you to ask Dosan. As First Lieutenant, you owe him the respect of at least listening to what he’s said.”

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. However offended they felt now, they were about to get offended a whole lot more by her, she could almost guarantee it.

“Thank you,” Elan vibrated softly.

“Oh, good.” She kicked to his side. “You’re not angry?”

“I was punished 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. They had to hurt. But he squeezed her back as if only her touch mattered.

Elan placed his palm on the curved outer wall. His castle entrance unfurled like a portal into the long tunnel. The aquamarine-tinted green walls led into a grand courtyard.

Mer castles were 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 of the main courtyard, 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 made her stomach grumble.

“This garden has been neglected.” Worry lined Elan’s eyes. “Many crops must be harvested.”

“After everything that happened today, are you seriously worried about gardening?” she asked.

“Well…” He twisted his lips thoughtfully. “It is an important consideration…”

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 rumbled again.

She 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.

She and this octopus had been solitary companions while Elan had been out on duty. No more! Those days of house arrest 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 ordered Zain, 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 enjoy a moment of peace.

And it was peaceful. The courtyard was immense, 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, it was filled with inescapable 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 this over with.

She set aside her unfinished meal and faced him with the truth he must hear. “You betrayed me.”

Zara’s accusation, You betrayed me, echoed over the courtyard. It felt harsh to her, but it was her true feeling, and she needed to say it no matter how much it hurt.

Elan didn’t even blink. “I apologize.”

“You…Wait. What?”

“I am deeply sorry, and I will endeavor not to do so again.”

He really apologized. Huh.

Zara struggled for the correct response. “I expected more resistance.”

“Near the surface, I told you that you had no power. That was a lie. I intended to save your life, but discouraging you 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. “I understand why you said it, but how are you so sure it won’t happen again?”

He set aside his meal and floated closer. Knitting their fingers together, he stroked her knuckles with the sensuous, flat side of his thumb. “Zara, you know the power is in you.”

She shivered with awareness. “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. If we’d driven off the warriors by the surface, what would have become of Dragao Azul?”

He made a noncommittal noise.

“You apologized,” she continued. “Which, by the way, is more than anybody else has done, 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?”

She stroked his rough cheek. “Well, you also said I’m you’re home and the only one you need, so that goes a long way.”

“You are.”

“And, there is one other thing. Just a sec.”

She checked on Zain, who had gone suspiciously quiet. He was 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. It could seal itself to prevent anyone from entering.

The night of Zain’s birth, they hadn’t prepared correctly. Distracted by the nervous excitement of the event, Elan had accidentally left the castle open and allowed the unwelcome warriors t swim right inside. 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 a 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 innermost 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?” She rested her feet on the shapeless floor, soft and silky beneath her bare toes. “Yes.”

“Despite my betrayals?”

Oh.

Dark lines creased around his eyes, but they were not the same 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’d lived through hell and no longer feared it. He was changed but whole, cautious of her good will 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 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 her 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. They fit together like a key 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 desperate, 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. Her husband 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 grew, 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 like glittering confetti. She cried out.

He shuddered his release.

In perfect sync, they orgasmed together, finally finding wholeness between their worlds linked as one.

Zara collapsed and rested her cheek on his broad shoulder. Elan trembled in the powerful aftermath.

Their city was liberated. Their family was reunited. Their union affirmed their love.

She stroked his upper back.

He tensed and squeezed her, still recovering his equilibrium. They had both nearly lost everything today, but they had the rest of their lives to become strong.

“I know we decided not to move Zain out of the courtyard,” she finally vibrated, gruff, deep in her chest. “But I want him to sleep with us.”

Elan 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.”

Elan eased apart and flew her to the courtyard. Lush greenery shimmered with new life in the walls and floors. It was as though the castle itself surrounded them with energy and 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 my king,” Elan murmured sleepily. “And the Life Tree.”

“Your king did love Zain. Although his actions to me were wrong, he treated Zain well.”

“You saved the city.”

“It is my 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 didn’t 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 overpowering 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 would they beat back the real monsters of the world.

She allowed a rueful smile. “Now you should be more afraid than ever.”

He cocked a 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 do not hope. I know. The world is changing. Not just Atlantis, not just Dragao Azul. The other cities and the humans and us mer, too.”

Simply by existing, their small family proved it was possible for love to overcome anything. 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 or both. 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 sitting on the dais of the Life Tree with Zain. He struggled to understand what she was doing and if she needed help.

She rolled mating gemstones into a small pile. Zain pushed the pile over, and the stones rolled across the others 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 his 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. Seeing it made Uvim’s 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 was still healing from the dark bruises around its numerous cuts, and they 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 swam 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 track of some units of the All-Council army. They could be lurking nearby, waiting for their chance to attack.”

“Zara can handle any 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 fulfillment 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 a 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’d 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. Not because 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 reconnect 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 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 would return? They would not destroy Dragao Azul but 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 at that time, but I hope you are not leaving us now because of my 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 meant to. 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. He had caused her pain personally when he’d been ordered to take her to the surface. Queen Zara did not have to forgive them because he would never truly forgive himself. It was no excuse that he'd thought he had no choice.

“You’ve already apologized,” she reminded Dosan. “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…