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I have never belonged to the sea. It’s been mine, but I’ve never truly let it possess me. I am a creature of two worlds—land and sea, the wayside and the water.
I am not a gentle being. Any heart I possessed shriveled into a brown husk long ago.
He’s twenty-five, I believe, and she must be about the same age. By contrast, I’m an old man. Two hundred fucking years and counting. I’m so tired of existing. But miserable and weary as I am, I refuse to end myself, out of sheer spite to the entire world and its gods. I have to believe one day I will find my joy through revenge.
I’m not afraid of things that are different, or unknown. I want them, I welcome them. I break rules on purpose, as far as I dare.
I sensed an echo of myself in him. The Soul Echo that each of my sisters mentioned when they found their true mate.
This stretch of the ocean is home to a dark entity, a prominent figure in some of my father’s most dreadful tales. The foulest enemy of all civilized merfolk. The Sea Witch.
My father told us the Sea Witch tears apart the spirits of those who dare to bargain for favors from him. Listening to the haunted choir filling the void around me, I can believe it.
“Where do humans eliminate waste?” “You have a very small hole at the front for pissing, one at the back for shitting, and a slit in the middle for sex. Stop touching yourself.” “I’m curious.” “Then touch it later, when I’m not around. Gods.” He looks away.
“What is this for?” I touch it again. “It feels nice.” The Sea Witch glances my way again, and I notice a deep flush across his face. “For someone who knows the word ‘fuck,’ you know precious little about human anatomy.” “So teach me.” He rises on his tentacles with a strangled groan. “Gods, what have I gotten myself into?”
Mates don’t have to be perfect. But I do want mine to be kind.
Our bodies are pressed together, my rain-melted scrap of fabric against his wet shirt and pants. Pants that are once again stiffly, annoyingly prominent. “Whatever weapon you’re hiding under your pants, you should take it out,” I tell him. “It’s poking me.” His face freezes in an expression akin to horror. “I really don’t think you want me to take it out.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You don’t have to touch me, I can find someone else to dance with.” “My reaction is not your fault or your responsibility,” he growls. “And no one else is going to touch you tonight, do you understand?”
“If I have to sit behind you on the horse, I might fall asleep and topple off,” I say ruefully. “Can’t I ride in front?” Another choked laugh from him, and he blurts out, as if he can’t hold the words in, “If we do that, I’m going to come in my pants against your pretty ass. Is that what you want?”
“I won’t give your voice back, because you might not be able to keep from screaming, and we can’t risk discovery. But someday I will make you scream until the sea itself trembles.”
“I may be young, and occasionally foolish, but from what I’ve seen, even a man of centuries may be a fool.” I tighten my hold on his chin, drawing his face down to mine. His breath bursts warm over my lips. “Kiss me, fool.”
“I never want to stop doing this with you,” rumbles the Sea Witch against my pussy. “I’ll stay here forever if you’ll let me.”
I want Kerrin to know that I never loved him. Because I didn’t know what love was until— Until I crouched by the wall and imagined life without the Sea Witch.
I love him because I can’t help it. Because in the Sea Witch, I hear the deepest echo of my own soul.
“Go and get him,” she says at last. “But come back alive, do you understand?” “Why do you care?” I hold her gaze. “I’m the monster who overthrew your father. And you haven’t yet asked me what I did to him.” “It doesn’t matter. If you had to—to kill him, because of what he did to Prella—I—I understand.” “You understand?” I choke on the words. “You understand? How can you say that? How can it not matter, Averil? You begged me to spare him!” “Yes, yes, I did—and I don’t want him dead, and I hope you spared him, but—and maybe this makes me a monster of the worst kind but—whether you killed him or
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“You let go of the trident to shield me,” I say. “Why?” His voice, deeper than ever, dark and beautiful. “You are worth more to me than the trident.” “No,” I whisper through a sob, through a smile. “Yes.” He leans in, his hand cupping my cheek. “I fucking love you, too.”
“I love you.” He kisses me frantically, each press of his lips more fervent. “I love you beyond reason, Averil. I want you. I need you to say you’ll be with me forever, my darling, my—” And then he breathes one shining word against my mouth. “Mate.”
“Perhaps when you love someone so much and cherish the best of them so deeply, it’s natural to wonder why they love you back.
A child does not owe a parent the gift of peace after years of lies and pain.
