The Sea King

by C. L. Wilson

  “Oh, but I am being serious, Gabriella.” Letting every last vestige of humor fall away, he regarded her with sober, unswerving intent. “I have never been more serious about anything in my life. Tell me, is this fear that you will do some irreparable harm should I be injured or slain the last obstacle standing in the way of your marrying me?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You love me. You have admitted it. If I can prove to you that you need never fear losing control over your magic, regardless of your emotional state, would you finally agree to be my liana? Will you claim me as your mate?”

  “The question is moot. There’s no way for you prove such a thing.”

  “Answer the question anyway.”

  She scowled, then huffed. “Fine. Yes. If you could prove I that I will never lose control and hurt innocents—which you can’t!—then I would marry you.”

  “And claim me as your mate.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And claim you as my mate.”

  “Good. I will hold you to that.” He strode for the door and reached for the latch.

  “Dilys!” Gabriella’s strangled cry stopped him before he could throw the door open. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To prove beyond any doubt that you are no threat to me or to anyone if you do not specifically choose to be.”

  “For the gods’ sake, put some clothes on before you go out there!”

  Considering the quantity and volume of the screams he’d wrung from her over the last fourteen hours, there wasn’t a Calbernan or Winterman on this ship—or any of the ships in at least a five-mile radius, for that matter—who didn’t know exactly what the two of them had been doing or how often they’d been doing it. His nudity wouldn’t exactly be a shock to anyone. But it mattered to her, so he paused long enough to grab a shuma and knot it about his waist.

  “Better?” he asked, and he waited for her stiff, pink-cheeked nod before he flung open the cabin door.

  “Kame!” he shouted to the Calbernans on the sterncastle. His first mate, who was standing at the Kracken’s wheel, turned around at his call. “Call the men. You and Kuota come here and lay hands on me. Then have the others form up behind you until we’re all linked.”

  Soon every sailor aboard the Kracken had lined up to form a living web, all linked hand to skin. All linked, ultimately, to Dilys. He turned back to Gabriella and motioned for her to come to him. She did, reluctantly, and when she drew near, he took her hands and pressed them to his chest. “Good. Now, I want you to share with me again as you shared your grief over your sisters. Give me everything you possibly can.”

  “Dilys . . .” Gabriella was starting to see where he was going with this, but after what had nearly happened yesterday, she was squeamish about the idea of rousing anything even close to that much of her power again. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He leveled a hard look on her. “You promised that if I could prove to you once and for all that you can love me without putting anyone in danger, you would marry me and claim me as your mate.”

  “Yes, but I never meant I’d put us all at risk again to prove it. I won’t.” Dilys stared at her long enough to make her squirm, but she didn’t back down. “I won’t do it, Dilys. I’m not going to endanger us all by summoning the full force of my magic. I won’t.” She crossed her arms and tried to ignore the disappointment in his eyes.

  “I see,” he said at last. “Very well.” He turned towards the bridge. “Helmsman, set a course for Konumarr.”

  “Tey, moa Myerielua.” The helmsman began barking orders, and the ship that had been sailing towards Calberna set a more northerly course.

  Gabriella scowled at Dilys. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Taking you home to Wintercraig, of course. As I told you yesterday, I promised Queen Khamsin I would bring her sisters home. Now that our search has ended, I’m honor bound to deliver you safely back into her care.”

  “I can’t go back! I’m too much of a danger to anyone I love. You know that!”

  “I’m sorry, moa haleah. It cannot be helped. You refuse to wed me because you fear your power, but you refuse to allow me to demonstrate that such fears are groundless. Right now, you are a subject of the King and Queen of Wintercraig, and I have no authority to refuse your sovereign’s command to your return to your homeland. Had you agreed to wed me, on the other hand, our marriage would make you a daughter of House Merimydion and a subject of the Myerial. In such a case, were you to command me not to return you to the bosom of your oulani family, I would be breaking no vows or treaties by acceding to my wife’s desires. Alas . . . you are not my wife, nor a citizen of Calberna, so . . .” He let his voice trail off and shrugged.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling me you’re shipping me back to Wintercraig—where you know I’ll be a danger to my family!—unless I marry you? That’s blackmail!”

  “I prefer to think of it as negotiating from a position of strength.” Behind him, a number of Calbernans and even a handful of traitorous Wintermen suddenly started coughing or scratching their noses and looking up at the sky to hide their smiles.

  She whirled on Commander Friis, who was standing a few feet away on the quarterdeck, working hard to conceal his amusement. “Are you just going to stand there and let him blackmail me?”

  Friis stood at attention. “Forgive me, Princess, but . . . ah . . . given the events of the last twenty-four hours . . . I . . . er . . . well, I”—he coughed into his fist—“I think the king and queen would prefer to see the two of you married as quickly as possible.” His gaze strayed to a point beneath her throat. His cheeks and tips of his ears went pink and he glanced quickly away.

  She looked down to see her robe gaping open to her navel. Blushing furiously, she jerked the edges of the robe together and tightened the sash with a yank.

  She spun back towards Dilys, ready to blister his ears with a few hot words, only to find that he had come up behind her, blocking her from the view of his crew. She craned her head back to glare up at his great, hulking height, expecting more smug arrogance, but the teasing laughter had left his face, and his eyes gleamed with a soft, sympathetic light.

  “It’s all right, Gabriella,” he murmured. One large hand slid around her neck, and his thumb gently traced the line of her jaw. “Trust me. It really is going to be fine. You won’t hurt anyone. I promise.”

  Her chin started to tremble and she had to look away quickly.

  “All right,” she mumbled when she had herself under control. “All right. I’ll give it a try.”

  He kissed her again, tenderly, and pulled her out onto the deck. “Kuota, Kame.” He waited for the two Calbernans to lay their hands upon him, then he pressed Summer’s palms to his chest. “Now, moa kiri, rouse your gifts.”

  Since yesterday’s excitement had started with the news of her sisters’ deaths, she let her mind tentatively turn to that for a trigger, but to her surprise, nothing happened. Oh, she still felt the pain of their loss and tears came to her eyes almost instantly, but the rush of grief-fired fury never came. Her magic remained quiescent.

  She frowned in confusion. “Nothing’s happening. I’m thinking of my sisters, but nothing’s happening.” A look flashed across Dilys’s face: satisfaction. “Did you do this?”

  “Tey. You gave me your pain. I gave you back love. You should be able to mourn them now without fear of accidentally unleashing your magic.”

  He appeared so matter-of-fact, as if he hadn’t just given her one of the most incredible gifts imaginable. All her life, she’d held herself back, held her heart back, afraid to love for fear of what loss would make her do.

  “My gods,” she whispered. “You did it.”

  “What I did isn’t a blanket cure,” he said. “It only works for the one emotional path. Pick a different pain, and your power will rise as it always has. For the purposes of this demonstration, that’s what I need you to do. Think of whatever you fear most.”

/>   She didn’t even need to hunt for a fear. It came of its own volition. The thought of Dilys dying.

  And just that quick, her power came roaring up, fresh and furious, ready to destroy anyone who even thought to harm him.

  “Good,” Dilys bit out, his voice gravelly. “Now, give it to me. All of it. Hold nothing back.”

  Two minutes ago, she would never have dreamed of releasing her power without restraint, but she was finally beginning to believe him when he told her not to fear hurting him with her magic. With only the slightest hesitation, she unleashed the torrent inside her.

  Dilys’s body stiffened as if electrified and his eyes flared a bright golden white. Behind him, an instant later, Kame and Kuota did the same, then the six Calbernans behind them, then the next line and the next. Her power chained through them, filling each one, then spilling over to the next.

  By the time her power reached the last dozen men, she was having to forcibly push energy out to them.

  “There, you see?” Dilys pulled her hands from his chest and kissed her fingertips. “Problem solved.” Behind him, his entire crew was regarding her with a dazed wonder that bordered on reverence.

  After a lifetime of clinging to her fear, so certain the happiness she longed for most could never be hers, it was hard to accept that she might actually be able to love, like any other person. “It seems promising, I’ll grant you that, but I won’t have a whole ship full of Calbernans following me around the rest of my life to stop me from killing innocent people whenever my emotions get the best of me.”

  “Ono. But you will always have me, and I will see to that you have a personal guard, chosen from the strongest among us, the ones who can help you the most. You can claim the happiness you hunger for. You can love with your whole heart, without fear.”

  She stared at him, and the yearning rose in her heart. Could it really be that simple?

  “Believe it, Gabriella,” Dilys told her. “Believe in me. I am the mate born to stand at your side.”

  Her fingers traced the outline of his mouth. The lips that had teased her, courted her, challenged, and defied her; enchanted, seduced and ultimately cast aside every objection, doubt, and fear, until all that remained was need and certainty.

  In the end, the decision was really no decision at all. It was simply a truth she could no longer keep denying. That he was hers, and she was his. Always.

  “I do believe in you, moa akua.” And softly, for their ears alone, she Spoke the Name that had imprinted itself upon her soul. Then louder, in a clear, ringing voice that carried the length and breadth of the ship, Gabriella said, “I claim thee, Dilys Merimydion. I claim thee as mine own. For thou art mine before all others, as I am thine.”

  A name he had never known but now recognized with every cell of his being suffused Dilys’s mind. He Spoke that Name in a reverent whisper, binding her soul’s resonance to his own, then raised his voice to say, “And I claim thee, Gabriella Aretta Rosadora Liliana Elaine Coruscate. For I am thine, before all others. As thou art mine.”

  There were no words to describe the feeling that settled over him. It was like opening his eyes and finding all the stars of the universe suddenly there, within his reach, and realizing that nothing was impossible, that he had just become part of a divine and greater whole. He was Calbernan. He’d never truly been alone. But until now, he’d never truly been complete, either. And in that single, perfect moment of communion, he understood the true face of joy, which for him could only come at Gabriella’s side.

  He closed his eyes and fell to his knees as Dilys, son of Alysaldria, became Dilys, mate of Gabriella. Tears tracked warm trails down his cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away. Some things deserved the shedding of salt.

  “Dilys, my brother.” Kame reached over Dilys’s back to hand him an unsheathed dagger.

  The sharing of blood and salt was purely ceremonial, Dilys realized as he dragged the sharp edge of Kame’s blade over his palm. He could not be more bound to Gabriella than he already was. She had Spoken his Name, and he had Spoken hers, and now every part of them, body and soul, belonged to each other.

  Still, it was tradition. Blood and salt to seal the bond.

  He rose on shaky legs and offered his liana the knife, holding out his hand, palm up, to display its line of glistening scarlet. She sliced her own palm, and as he clasped their palms together, mingling the blood in their veins, he said, “Blood to blood and salt to salt, we are one, Gabriella Coruscate, bound before all, never to be divided.”

  “We are one, Dilys Merimydion” she agreed.

  And it was done. She was his liana, his wife and mate, in Name and blood and salt. And he was her akua, bound to her forever.

  His crew cheered loud and long, their eyes bright, their joy palpable. The Wintermen cheered as well, though it was clear they didn’t understand the full import of what had just taken place. To Dilys’s surprise, a bright-eyed Kame produced a fine white silk obah, heavily embroidered along the edges with golden tridents and red roses sprinkled amongst a sea of green vines and blue waves.

  “Ari and Ryll started working on it back in Konumarr,” Kame said as they helped him into the delicate garment. “They gave it to me before we set sail for the Green Sea. The men and I finished it up a few days ago. Thank Numahao it will finally get some use!” He grinned and slapped Dilys on the back. “Now, my prince, let us sail the ship softly while you go tend to your liana. Your mother will be wanting a sweet, golden-eyed Myerialanna!”

  The Calbernans roared with laughter and began singing songs about mating and making babies.

  “You can’t be serious,” Gabriella protested when Dilys ushered her back into the cabin and locked the door. “We just spent fourteen hours in bed.”

  “Are you tired?”

  “Yes!”

  “Ah, well.” He tugged loose the sash of her robe and pushed the fabric from her shoulders. It slid down her body and puddled at her feet. His gaze swept over her sweetly curved body, and his body came roaring back to life, ready for a new adventure. He might just have spent the last fourteen hours engaged in a marathon of vigorous, passionate lovemaking with Gabriella, his adored, but he had yet to spend a single second making love to Gabriella, his wife.

  “You can just lie back, then, and let me do all the work.”

  Much, much later, Gabriella lay on the rumpled mess of Dilys’s bed, boneless, exhausted, and sated beyond all comprehension. Good gods, the man had no quit. He’d brought her to climax so many times, she’d lost count. Again and again and again, until she was a sobbing, screaming, mindless mess, clinging to him as the sensual firestorm laid waste to her. The pleasure had been so intense, so completely shattering, that even now, just the memory of it made her aching flesh ripple with tiny aftershocks.

  Dilys—her akua—lay sleeping beside her, one heavy arm flung across her waist. His iridescent blue ulumi were still glowing, albeit considerably more faintly than they’d been doing during the long, passionate hours of their lovemaking. She stroked fingers through the coils of his hair and marveled at how completely at peace she felt. He had done that. He had taken every fear, worry, and wound in her soul and laid them all to rest. Her father’s madness, her fear of her terrible gifts, the horror of what the Shark had done to her, the devastating grief of losing her sisters—all had lost the power to hurt her. Because Dilys had taken the rawness of her pain and given her back such infinite, unstinting love, there was no holding on to grief, or rage, or terror. He had made himself her haven in the storm—even when was the storm was her own fears and insecurities.

  He had freed her. Freed her to live. Freed her to love. Freed her to know what happiness truly felt like.

  For the first time in a long, long time, Summer looked into the future . . . and felt hope.

  She turned to press a kiss against his crown, breathing in the exotic, intoxicating fragrance of him. A smile played about her lips. After more than twenty-four hours of virtually nonstop sex, the pair of them should
smell rank as a stable of goats, but they had paused once or twice to bathe along the way. And making love with a Sealord in a body of water—even a small one—well, that had come with its own set of surprises. She squirmed, remembering how he’d taken control of the water, used it to stroke and tease every inch of her skin inside and out, brought her to multiple screaming orgasms without laying a single finger on her.

  Gods, how she loved what he did to her. She loved that almost as much as she loved him, and that was saying a lot.

  A sudden, loud pounding on the cabin door ripped her out of her happy reverie. She jumped, and Dilys came instantly awake, leaping out of the bed and landing on the balls of his feet, sword in hand. Where had the sword come from? She hadn’t even seen one within reach.

  “Dilys! It’s Ryll!” More insistent pounding. “Open up!”

  Gabriella sat up, dragging the sheets up to her chest as Dilys flung open the door. “Ryll?” Dilys asked. “What are you doing here? What’s happened?”

  “The Shark didn’t die in that explosion like we thought. He’s still alive, and he has Ari.”

  Chapter 26

  The Kracken sailed north towards the Olemas. Ryll’s Narwal and the rest of the western Varyan fleet sailed close on the Kracken’s stern. The captains of those ships had gathered in Dilys’s stateroom aboard the Kracken to discuss their option and come up with a plan to get Ari back and put an end to the Shark.

  That Nemuan and the Shark were one and the same was no longer a suspicion but a certainty, one he shared with Ryll and the other captains as he called the meeting to order. Not surprisingly, they were shocked and disbelieving at first, but when Dilys asked Gabriella to describe the Calbernan who’d held her captive aboard Mur Balat’s ship, her mention of the matte-black ulumi covering a good half of his body left Ryll and the other captains stunned but convinced.

  “I had my suspicions before the Kuinana,” Dilys admitted, “but I didn’t want to slur a Myerielua’s name without proof. I regret my reticence now. If I’d been more open . . . if I’d shared my suspicions . . . perhaps Ari would never have been captured.”