Aria: A Reverse Fairy Tale Romance Series (The Happily Never After Series Book 3)

by Plum Pascal

  Now I understand the need for that vengeance. Now I’ve seen, firsthand, what humans are capable of—what they do to my kind. Now I understand.

  And now I’m going to do the only thing left to do—I’m returning the sea. Damn these humans and their barbarity! Doing so will ruin any chance we have of securing allies. I realize that. And I also realize Aunt Opeia will have my tailfin. But I need to be in the water, need to have some connection to my home. Land is dry. It’s painful and barbaric and humans are cruel.

  I hesitate when I reach the muddy path that leads down from the castle and into the city of Bridgeport. From here, all I need to do is run to the far end of the pier. Then I simply need to climb up the embankment of dirt that leans against the rock wall separating the city from the sea. Then I just launch myself off the edge of the wall and into the ocean.

  I can’t leap in human form. My half-form will only take me so far, but perhaps it will be enough. I begin stripping off layers of clothing which I generally can’t stand, dropping the finery to the ground. Itchy, confining stuff. I’m grateful to be rid of it.

  It’s a sweet ache, like stretching sore muscles, as I release my wings. Keeping them folded beneath my skin is like maintaining a clenched fist. It hurts after a time, but I’ve gotten used to the ache. I’ve not had an opportunity to reach shore for many, many years, and to unfurl them beneath the water would make them next to useless until they could dry.

  I let out a sigh, elation seeping into my veins despite the panic still churning my guts. It’s almost worth being sunburnt to have the opportunity to use my wings. If we can successfully overthrow Triton, perhaps Aunt Opeia can brew me a solution to make my wings repel moisture. What I wouldn’t give to ride a thermal into the night sky. Even in the evening, Bridgeport is muggy and pleasant. If only they weren’t murderers here.

  Poised on my tiptoes I stand, arms outstretched, wings pointed toward the sky, ready for flight. I’m about to launch myself off the side of the wall and toward the water when I hear footsteps. I spin, letting my wings fold modestly over my front. I still don’t understand why human men are obsessed with breasts, but Hook tells me to be careful. So I cover the damn things as someone sprints up the footpath after me. Maybe it’s Bastion. Or Hook... Can I stand to see either the captain now?

  The depressing answer is yes. I still want to see him, even if he’s a murderous flesh-eater. I’m more disgusted with myself than I am with Hook, knowing I want his mouth on mine and his cock inside me.

  But as the shape grows closer, I see it’s neither my friend nor my lover. It’s Prince Andric.

  “Stay back,” I warn him, flashing my teeth. These humans only seem to understand aggression, so I’ll give it to him. Failing that, I can use my song.

  Andric obediently slows, coming to a halt three yards away from me. He raises his hands in a pacifying gesture.

  “You’re angry,” he observes with some surprise.

  “Yes, I’m angry!” I yell back at him.

  “Why? Is it my father? He’s a bit obstinate but I can speak to him about…”

  My lip curls in disgust. He doesn’t even understand what he’s done wrong! “I’m not angry about your father!”

  “Then what are you angry about?” he asks and his eyes appear… kind?

  “The fish.”

  He stops speaking abruptly, his brow creasing. He looks more like his father with the mass of lines on his face. My dislike for him intensifies.

  “The fish?” he asks, clearly still confused.

  “You butchered them! Laid their carcasses out like it was an art form! The lobsters... Gods, and the clams? It’s...”

  I choke on my own disgust, acid stinging my throat. I’m in danger of bringing up the bread and cheese Hook fed us for breakfast.

  Realization dawns on the prince’s face, and remorse limps along behind it. “Oh. I didn’t think... I’m so sorry, Princess Arianwen. I didn’t know. We thought...”

  “Thought what?”

  “Fish eat other fish all the time, don’t they? We just assumed you were the same.”

  I flare my wings wide in agitation, forgetting momentarily that I need to keep them wrapped tightly around myself for modesty’s sake. I gesture broadly toward my body.

  “Do I look like a fish?”

  “Well, no,” he starts but I don’t allow him to finish.

  I glare at him instead. “Even in my mermaid form, do I look like a guppy to you?”

  Andric’s head dips.

  “No, you don’t. You’re right, we should have asked you what you prefer to eat and what you don’t. If you were any other land-faring species, we would have thought to inquire but...” He chews on his lip. “You have to understand, Princess. It’s been so long since anyone has even seen a siren. Even those in the drowning coves have disappeared. Triton keeps all his people beneath the sea and away from us. We haven’t opened a dialogue with your people since before Triton reigned.”

  Some of my anger drains away. My father has reigned for... Gods, has it been a century now? More? He’s nearing middle age. So, yes, it has to have been about one century. Human lives are far more fleeting. My father has been on the throne since before Andric was alive. Possibly before his father was even born. Our alliances with the surface-dwellers have always been with the tacit understanding that we avoid each other. So it’s entirely possible he’s being honest.

  “You speak the truth?” I ask. “You’re not…” What was it Hook says? “Yankin’ my fin?”

  A tiny smile quirks Andric’s lips—a dimple pops in his right cheek, and it spills light into his eyes. It’s surprisingly attractive.

  “Well, at the moment, you don’t have any fins to yank,” he says with a little laugh but when he takes note of the fact that I’m still glaring at him, the laugh dies away. He nods instead. “Yes, I’m being honest, Princess,” he says as he faces me with eyes that seem honest enough. “We didn’t know the food would offend you and I am so sorry it did. I’ll speak to my father and I’ll ensure this never happens again.” He takes a breath. “You have my word.”

  A breeze picks up, ruffling my hair and feathers and tickling my skin, bringing my nipples to attention. I expect Andric’s eyes to drop to my chest, the way Hook’s do, but he keeps his gaze resolutely on my face. He doesn’t even appear to notice I’m wearing nothing. It’s much like standing with Bastion.

  When I say nothing, Andric steps a little closer and stoops to pick up my coat.

  “Would you mind coming back? I can and will have the cooks prepare some seaweed wraps and fruit, instead.”

  I’m troubled he won’t look at my naked body. Perhaps he doesn’t desire me? How am I to seal the pact with him if he doesn’t want to touch me? I step closer and run a hand along his chest. He clears his throat and appears wholly uncomfortable.

  “Do you find me unattractive?” I ask, worried such might be the case.

  His eyes go wide. “What?” he says and seems quite befuddled.

  “You haven’t looked at my breasts once,” I answer with a shrug. “Hook tells me human males find them pleasing?”

  “Yes, they do…”

  “Don’t you want to touch them? Or at least look at them?”

  “Well, I…” he swallows, looks down at the ground, and then brings his attention back to my face. “Yes.”

  I take one of his hands. It’s big and rough, much like Hook’s. I didn’t expect such. He’s a prince. What labor does he do that makes his hands coarse?

  I guide his hand to my breast, curling his fingers along the underside and pressing his thumb against my nipple. Andric makes a sound in the back of his throat that makes my body clench hard and an ache begins between my legs.

  Andric draws his hand away. My skin feels cold where he no longer touches it. My eyes prick strangely. “You don’t want to touch me?”

  He chuckles weakly. “Yes, of course I want to! You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Aria. But just because I can do a th
ing doesn’t mean I should.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He seems frustrated and runs a hand through his hair. “I could bring you to the ground right now and take you, and I know you’d let me, Princess.”

  “Please… call me Aria.”

  He nods. “You’ll do anything to secure the alliance—I understand that and I admire you for your resolve. But you don’t owe me your body, Aria. If you ever come to my bed, I want it to be because you want to—because you want to feel me inside you. Not because you feel duty-bound, owing to this agreement between us.” He sighs. “And I don’t want you ever to be afraid of me—afraid I might force myself on you.”

  “I’m not frightened of you.”

  Frightened of my father, yes. Of losing Hook, who I’ve become absurdly attached to, yes. Frightened of Bastion’s mood swings, and of losing Aunt Opeia, yes. But I’m not frightened of him.

  Exasperated by his ignorance, perhaps. Not frightened.

  “But you are scared,” he insists, as if plucking the thoughts from my head, “of what’s coming and that’s why you’ve come here, seeking our favor. And your fear is natural. But it doesn’t mean we have to rush into anything.”

  “Then you’re rejecting our alliance?”

  He smiles patiently and then sidles closer to me, sinking down so he can dangle his long legs over the side of the wall. He shivers in the light breeze and I sink down as well, curling one wing around his shoulders. He traces one feather idly with a smile. I shiver. More warmth pools between my thighs. Human men and their propensity for touching. My wings are as sensitive as my hair. If he touches them too much, I might climax. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle?

  Thankfully, he drops his hand. I curl my wing around him to keep the wind off his face.

  “No, I’m not rejecting the alliance. I’m amending the terms. You and I can marry, if you still want that. But I’m not going to…”

  “To feck me?” I finish for him because he seems to have lost his words.

  He swallows again as a smile takes his expression. “Right.” Then he looks at me. “The word is ‘fuck’, Aria.”

  “But Hook says,” I start.

  He nods. “It’s the same word but his accent makes the pronunciation different.”

  “Oh,” I say and try the new word out on my tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  He chuckles and holds my chin up so we’re looking each other in the eyes again. “I’m not going to fuck you. Not until you want me to.”

  I raise an eyebrow, a spark of mischief kindling in me. I smirk at him. “And if I told you I wanted it here and now?”

  He blinks at me once, then laughs. “Tease.”

  I shrug easily. “Not a tease. A siren. It’s in my nature.”

  He hums thoughtfully and leans backward, brushing my wing again. It may not be teasing for long. His touches are driving me wild.

  I cup his face and press my lips very gently to his. Then, with all of my strength, I roll him beneath me, straddle his waist and kiss him harder. My skin tingles. My quim aches. I want him. But he doesn’t want me. Not here and now anyway. I wonder if he has another woman? Someone he loves? Maybe this agreement is as difficult on him as it is on me?

  I climb off him after a moment. “Thank you, Andric,” I murmur. “For being kind.”

  And then I saunter toward the castle, with the weighty feel of his stare on my back.

  ELEVEN

  ARIA

  Supper is a quiet affair, and Hook is conspicuously absent, though the rest of the party is seated around a long and rectangular table, the king sitting at one end and Andric sitting at the other. I sit beside Andric and Bastion, the latter who busily glares at the staff, even as he slurps seaweed and enjoys the novel fruits that grow on land. I’m partial to something called a mango, but Bastion seems to prefer a fruit known as an orange. At Andric’s prodding, we begin a conversation about our respective customs. The most inane details seem to fascinate him.

  I learn new things, as well—news about Morningstar and the efforts made to defeat him, thus far. I’m a bit awestruck when I learn the golden-haired woman, Kassidy, is Chosen. One of the chosen. And that another, named Neva, has also been discovered.

  At learning Kassidy is Chosen, I also realize how much I need her. “You have to come with us on our mission!” I say at once.

  Kassidy leans back in her chair and regards me skeptically. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you may be the only one who can lift the trident!” I insist.

  “The trident?” she repeats, clearly confused.

  “Yes! Poseidon’s trident!”

  “And what is that?”

  “The trident controls the sea. No one has been able to wield it since Poseidon sank into the sands and entered a death-like sleep a century ago.”

  “Then your father can’t wield it?” Kassidy asks.

  I shake my head. “No. The trident didn’t choose my father. My Aunt Opeia couldn’t wield it either, but she can at least maintain control of the sea if we can snatch my father’s scepter away. It won’t be completely effective, but it should keep the grotesquerie at bay.”

  “I still don’t understand why you think I should come along,” Kassidy replies, frowning.

  “You’re Chosen,” I answer with a shrug. The trident has to be wielded by someone of great power. I think you’re the only one who could possibly do it!”

  She lets out a pealing laugh, but I can hear a note of doubt behind it. “And if I’m able to free the trident, what then?”

  “Then you would rule the ocean,” I say, not really understanding the question. Isn’t it obvious?

  “Rule the ocean as in… live in the ocean?” she repeats, frowning.

  “Yes, of course,” I answer.

  She shakes her head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a merperson. Besides, I know my final battle takes place on land, not beneath the sea.”

  I’m flummoxed. Doesn’t she understand how important this is? That in order to defeat Morningstar, she needs an open sea to easily transport troops and cargo?

  Bastion leaps to my defense, setting his orange aside at last. “You would only have to remain in the sea long enough to establish order, Lady Kassidy. Lady Cassiopeia and Princess Aria will see to the rest.”

  Kassidy exchanges pointed glances with her retinue. The three hulking males sit as close to her as they can manage, and each one of them has a hand on her somewhere. Leith is the tallest, I think, and I still marvel over his looks which strike me as a walking contradiction. With hair as gray as shale, it seems he should be much older. But his face belongs to a man in his prime. His eyes are bright but his shoulders stoop a little, even when he’s happy, as though weighed down by his title.

  Nash has a similar cast to his features, though with an edge of hard cynicism that is absent in either of the others’ faces. I’ve never seen a bear in person before, so I cannot say how fearsome they are, but I do sense his power. It’s close to the surface, like the magma running through Aunt Opeia’s caves. It’s the type of power that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to burst forth at any minute.

  Sorren is the outlier. If I hadn’t been told, I wouldn’t believe he shares blood with the other two. He’s as pale as Andric, with eyes as blue and bleak as a winter sky. His hair is brown and he intimidates me the most of the bunch. Even in the short time I’ve known him, he’s shown himself to be sharp in both mind and tongue. I think, of the three, he will be the most vicious if crossed.

  Not that I plan on crossing him. No, I need him. I need all of them. If we’re going to defeat Morningstar, we need strong and able men such as the three of them. And we need Kassidy the most.

  “What do you think?” Kassidy asks, eyes flitting from each handsome face, seeking confirmation.

  “I think we’ll have to chance it,” Leith says soberly. “Andric is right. We can’t afford to lose the tides. So, we’ll take the fight to Triton.”

  I’
m thrilled.

  “We?” Kassidy echoes. “You can’t mean…”

  Nash snorts. “Yes, we fucking can and do mean to go with you! We almost lost you in Grimm, you thieving little minx. We’re not going to risk letting a kraken eat you!”

  I smile faintly and don’t mention that any kraken would be unlikely to go for prey so small. Humans have so many bones and such little meat. It would simply thrash her and release her corpse, most likely.

  Sorren nods. “If you go, Kassidy, we all go.”

  “We welcome any help you’re willing to give,” I interject. “And we do need soldiers. You’re our best bet of seizing power from Triton. Even if Triton’s defeated and killed, my stepmother or half-sisters could wield the scepter and we’d be in no better a position. Promise me you will at least try?”

  Kassidy stares down at her plate for a few seconds, contemplating, before her gaze shifts to the window. Like most things on land, it’s rather small and cramped. I doubt I could fit my human body in the gap without having to fold in on myself. But it allows in a pleasant sea breeze.

  Outside, silvery moonlight traces the waves. They’re deceptively placid tonight. I know at least two kraken roam the waters, and possibly more if Opeia’s magic hasn’t held.

  “We need the sea,” Kassidy repeats, almost to herself. Then she turns back to face me. I really do smile this time, because determination glints in those sparkling green eyes, as hard as flint.

  “All right. I’m in. Who else is coming with me?”

  “Thank you,” I start before I’m interrupted.

  “I am,” Andric says, jumping into the conversation at last. He’s mostly stared at me through dinner, watching me with the oddest expression on his face. I can’t fathom what he’s thinking, but I’m too uncomfortable to ask in front of the other guests.

  For all I know, he’s angry with me for trying to cement our alliance earlier. Perhaps he longs for another love and I overstepped my bounds? Who can say? Humans are so difficult to puzzle out, their reactions and sensibilities strange.