She stared at him, then, her jaw working. Tears filled her eyes as she slowly shook her head. “She is no more—” her voice broke and a tiny sob escaped her throat. “She is with the gods now.”
Sareck felt the air leave him as if he’d been sliced through the chest. Goddess, no . . . the babe was dead?
“So, leave me in peace,” she said, agony and venom twisting in her voice. “Or your head will join your prince’s.”
She turned her back on him then, nudging Sareck so that he would lean on her as she began to help him up to the hut.
They hobbled across the field and his mind churned, his stomach twisted. She was here, with him once more. She returned. But so much pain. So much death . . . it wasn’t right. He’d never met the babe, but he felt he’d known her. And he’d yearned to see her. To protect her.
The agony that Alya suffered had to be so much worse than his . . . it was unbearable. He recalled that weight. Sareck wanted to comfort her, to tell her how sorry he was. But his throat was too crowded with sorrow, he couldn’t form the words to speak.
As they came to the yard he managed a whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
“Let’s just get you inside,” she said, her voice steady now. Emotionless.
It unsettled him.
They stepped into the hut, walking to the center before she paused and checked to be sure he was steady. Muninn tittered happily from his perch on the back of the chair near the pallet, as if he were thrilled to see them.
Alya moved to shut the door.
As soon as it clicked shut she turned with a loud sigh of relief. “Goddess above!” she said. “What a sight! The most magnificent thing I’ve ever witnessed—his head rolling right down the beach.” She laughed, astonishment clear in her features. “I can hardly believe you did it.”
But she was empty of sorrow.
“Alya,” he said, his gut growing heavy. “What happened?”
“You’ve freed me, my wondrous Sareck!” She lifted her hands into the air in elation.
“But Alya, what of—”
“And the look on his face,” she continued, her eyes widening even more, another breath of joy emerging. “He never saw it coming, the stupid ass.” She squealed gleefully.
He couldn’t watch her smile. He couldn’t witness the heartless display. It was too much. “The babe, Alya!” he shouted. “How could you? What’ve you done?”
She went still, her mouth opened, clearly stunned by his rage. “Sareck, I—”
Muninn’s screech pierced the air.
Joined by a smaller cry.
Sareck turned, holding his breath. Listening to the miraculous sound.
Tucked in the furs on the pallet, half-hidden, was a tiny life. Muninn perched above, guarding.
“Oh, Sareck,” she said, watching his face slacken. “Did you think I spoke true?” She went to him, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek in comfort. “Forgive me, I thought you would sense the lie.” She tucked her arm through his and looked over to the child. “I was afraid Doran would come, that he would hear her cry. So, I hid her here, where I knew she’d not be sensed by him. Where she’d be safe near your hearth, guarded by your dark goddess.”
“She’s alive,” he said, feeling breathless. The sight of her . . . the fragile beauty . . . he could only stare in amazement. He was afraid to move closer.
The tiny whimpers came again, and a plump fist beat at the air.
Alya went to the babe then, crawling onto the pallet to nestling in beside her. A new light seemed to fill her features as she smiled down at her daughter. “She’s strong as anything. A true daughter.”
Sareck’s chest ached at the sight. Everything in him soared and broke all at once.
“I’m still not sure of a name. I wanted your thoughts.” She turned her smile to him. “She’s a strong soul, don’t you think?”
He nodded. He limped a little closer.
“She won’t bite, silly man.” She giggled. “Well, she may, but she has no teeth.”
“I don’t want to hurt her. She’s so tiny.”
“Only for a short while.” She held out her hand, motioning for him closer. “Come, lay with us. You need rest.”
He wanted more than anything to be near them. But he hesitated. Terrified.
“Where will you go now?” he asked quietly, his heart aching.
She blinked up at him. “Go?”
“Now that the prince is dead, the threat is gone. The child is well. Won’t you find a home with your own kind?” She didn’t belong with him. She didn’t need him. Why would she wish to stay?
“Sareck . . .” she said, sorrow threading into her voice. “I am home.”
His gaze met hers. “What?”
“This is where I want to be. Here. With you.”
He could scarce believe his ears. It felt as if his aching body would float off the floor, he was so elated.
“Now, come settle in with us.” She waved him closer. “You’re a mess.”
He moved to the pallet, obeying, laying on his side, the babe now between them. His muscles sighed with relief as he settled into the furs. Every bone hurt, and yet he’d never felt so whole.
“I did have a name I was considering,” she said, “But I was worried it might upset you.”
“Me?” What did it matter what he thought?
Her voice turned quiet, hesitant. “I heard you say a name one night in your sleep.”
He gave her a questioning look.
“Breanna,” she whispered, as if she knew how the sound of the name might hurt him. “I feel we should name her Breanna.”
His muscles tensed, bracing for the pain he always felt at her memory. But when it came, it didn’t smother him as it usually did. Looking in Alya’s eyes, feeling the presence of the tiny life, hearing the small breaths . . . his gaze moved to study the child. A fragile life, plump fists resting above her head, pink cheeks, and her slowly blinking eyes . . . blue as a summer sky. She was so new. So alive, so real.
“I’m sorry,” Alya said. She reached out, taking his hand. “We can think of another.” She couldn’t know his past, who the woman was that carried that name, how much a part of him she’d been, how strong and vital she’d been. A woman to reckon with.
But he could tell the story. He could.
He would. And then perhaps he could choose to live.
For the first time in his life. He could truly live.
“I think that’s a proper name. Breanne. A woman to reckon with.” He met Alya eyes, weaving his fingers through hers. “Like her mother.”
The raven tittered out its approval.
Sinking Hearts: A Royal Tail series, book 1
LA Fox
Sinking Hearts
When Nerissa is kidnapped on her birthday by sexy gods, she's not sure it's a punishment. But with family and friends pulling her in different directions, and a brand new mermaid tail to call her own, can she finally follow her destiny? Or is she just royally screwed?
Sinking Hearts © 2020 LA Fox
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Chapter 1
Okay, so I was obviously hallucinating. You don't just see a veritable God walk half naked from the ocean. Not when y
ou're minding your own business, strolling down a secluded beach at midnight.
Let alone two of the buggers.
I've walked my share of beaches, and no, this hadn't happened before. Unfortunately.
I dug my fingernails into my palm and made a fist.
Ouch. Yep, I was definitely awake and not imagining two sexy men. One who looked like Thor and the other like that Witcher dude. And, did I mention almost naked? Just a small, piece of material covering all that was holy.
Wow.
I halted on my nightly excursion and my bare feet sank slightly into the soft sand. My small house overlooked the water. This was a normal night for me. Even if I was twenty one years old today. Yay me. It helped me think and process. Not that I went into the sea. No, siree. I kept my arse on dry land at all costs.
I watched as they walked out of the ocean, water cascading down their bodies in lickable rivulets. It was like that scene in the Bond movie where that actor, I forget his name, walks out of the sea with those dinky shorts on, making all the women drool.
Except there was only me to revel in their yumminess.
I wanted to faint from the prettiness in front of me. I wanted to drop down to my knees and thank the Gods for the ability to have multiple orgasms.
I quivered. Actually quivered. Who even does that nowadays? Next I'd probably swoon— I cut off the start of my naughty thoughts. While I'd been distracted, they'd walked right up to me and stopped, giving me the once over as I'd done to them moments before.
Good God, my knickers just about dropped to my ankles. I was under a spell and I didn't want to come to my senses.
"My name is Kai," the one with the silver hair said. His voice was deep, soft and sexy, and he looked dangerous with amber eyes and a scar snaking across his chest. I could barely wrench my gaze away as the other man introduced himself.
"My name is Dylan." Blondy was sexy as hell with those laughter lines, gorgeous green eyes, and a smattering of hair descending into no man's land, right under his loin cloth.
Loin cloth? It was September, so not really cold in the good old United Kingdom, but not quite the weather to be dipping your nuts in icy water. Curious.
"Okay. Erm, good to meet you. I'm Nerissa." I didn't want to be impolite to these people.
They both bowed their heads slightly. Was I being pranked or something? I discreetly looked around to see if I noticed any cameras or dudes pretending to be rocks. Nothing.
I glanced back at them, my body temperature going up a degree or ten. They looked scrummy.
"We are here to bring you home, Princess Nerissa."
And that was the proverbial bucket of cold water over my head. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to figure out my next move.
"Okay, people," I said at last. "Funny stuff. If you follow that road up there"—I pointed back towards where I'd come from—"for about five minutes, you'll find the pub. Happy drinking."
Dylan's beautiful face wrinkled in confusion as I saw Kai's lips twitch. Yeah, they had to be drunk. Urgh.
Disappointment made my feet heavy. It was time to head on home. I started to turn around and leave the strangers, peeking just a little more to make sure every last detail was remembered.
"I don't understand. We are here for you", Dylan said at last.
I stopped mid turn and stared at him again. Saliva seemed hard to come by as I swallowed down a jolt of desire.
"Seriously, I've had a really crappy birthday today. My best friend didn't turn up when he said he would, and now I get to argue with drunk guys who look like they're straight out of a Marvel franchise. Leave me alone."
It was somewhere in my mini rant that I realised these two might not actually be drunk, but in fact be psychos.
My slow-arse brain finally summoned a fraction of the blood pooling desire in between my legs. They'd been walking out of the cold sea at night. They were dressed in loin cloths. And they were way too gorgeous to be around this part of the world.
"We need to leave. We're here to take you back." Their words hung heavy in the warmish night as my brain caught up.
Good grief, they were serial killers.
My heartbeat kicked up a notch at the notion. I stepped backwards, once, twice, then carried on moving slightly quicker. Could I make it back to my house before they caught and killed me? Good God, no. I was officially a goner. I definitely should have gone to the gym more.
I smiled, awkwardly. "Sure you are. Let me just get my things--"
"You won't need belongings where we're taking you, my princess."
And that, my friends, was this girl’s cue to run.
Now if you've ever run on sand, you know it's an art-form.
One you needed to be fit for. And no-one could ever call me that. My boobs were way too plentiful not to give me black eyes the moment I even thought of quickening my pace.
So, in what seemed like moments, I'd been caught up with, and one was lifting me like I weighed bugger all.
"Yee…" A sound was wrenched out of my mouth as he pulled me close to his still damp--and very hard--chest. Kai. I glanced down to look at that scar. I wanted to taste it.
Oh, shoot me. What in the hell good was I in a crisis situation?
I needed to take back control. I was being held by a stranger, with another one looking on like it was a peep show and he was waiting for a go. I truly wanted to ignore the little voice in my head saying--nay shouting--that Kai's body felt bloody perfect and to follow him into the pits of hell if he asked. Same for Dylan. But this was not reality.
Not my reality at all.
Dylan stepped closer to us. "It's a matter of life and death that you come with us now, Princess--"
"The name's Nerissa, not princess." Irritation began to bubble for some reason.
I was in no position to get pissed. But I kinda liked the way arguing felt with these men. Did that make me a wanton freak? Probably. But there was something about these two that made me want to push buttons. Like they'd never had to see someone like me before. Where did that thought come from.
"Nerissa." Dylan smiled. And up close, that was truly devastating to the equilibrium. I was glad I was tucked comfortably in Kai's arms—not that I was oblivious to the way his body felt against my own. Nope. I was well and truly lust overloaded.
I wriggled then, remembering where I was. God damnit, I keep getting distracted. Kai's arms didn't budge. I tried again, this time thrashing more. But no matter how hard I thrust against him, I wasn't being let down.
"Put me down, you big shit." I pushed against his chest and totally didn't notice the way that ugly scar felt so soft against my fingers.
He bent his head closer to me, his mouth a lick away from mine. I stopped moving. Stopped breathing.
"I like the way you move against me, Rissa." His tone was velvety sweet.
And yes, if I'd been on my feet, I'd have swooned. We exchanged a look for a long moment. I was pretty sure he could have made me succumb to anything, given a bit more time.
In what felt like a split second, the mood had changed completely. Both men looked at the ocean.
"We need to move, now."
We went from standing to sprinting towards the sea, and it took me precious time for my sex addled brain to catch up with this new situation.
"No!" I screamed as water splashed up over me after he'd waded into the waves. I grasped him tighter, practically clawing at his skin.
"I can't swim--" I was cut off as Kai pulled me under the water and I spluttered my remaining air.
I was of my small bag floating away on the waves, as I struggled to breathe.
I closed my eyes, knowing I was falling and wished for it to be over quickly.
I was going to die a horrible death, I was horny, and I'd left half a bottle of wine in the fridge, too.
Well, wasn't this a shitty day?
Chapter 2
There were better things to wake up to, I'm sure, but right now my mind was a blank. A table laden with food s
tood in front of me. And I was famished, if my noisy belly was to be believed.
I blinked a few times, not quite understanding my whereabouts. Then I caught sight of them.
My unsteady eyes must be unfocused, I thought, because why would there be a king and queen standing in front of me
And they were smiling.
I smiled back, pretty sure my lips were so dry they were stuck to my teeth.
I probably looked like a smiling shark--
Shark. Water. The smile faded and I blinked, very much waking up and sobering to my current situation. I remembered everything. The two men, the water, going deeper until I could no longer breathe.
"I'm dead." My voice sounded strangely melodic and echoey and I finally took a good look at my surroundings.
Was this heaven? There was lots of gold, and colour, and luxurious furnishings. And something about all this was very familiar. I searched my brain but came up with nothing.
I felt like I was in one of those Housewives of, reality shows.
If I looked closer, the queen and king were probably botoxed to hell.
I did. And no, they looked perfect.
In their late fifties, maybe. Both had gorgeous tans. The king had black hair and was very handsome. The queen had red hair, a similar colour and style to my own. Beautiful, of course.
I sat up and my head swam.
I looked up once more at the people watching me as carefully as I was probably watching them.
"No, you're not dead."
Had I said that out-loud? Heat flooded my face, and given that I had a mass of red hair, I was now probably the colour of sun-ripened tomatoes.
"Where am I?"
"You're home, my love."
I rubbed amy ear. The water was probably affecting me. My brain was working too slow.
Again, I looked around, momentarily distracted by a scrumptious looking muffin.
Would it matter if I was dead? I didn't know. My life was pretty crappy before this. Maybe this was a blessing. Sort of.
Mermaidia: A Limited Edition Anthology Page 64