by Zoe Chant
“I want you as my mate,” she’d said last night, her soft fingertips silencing his protests. “And I’ve seen both sides to you now—Finn, and the Master Shark. You can’t rip yourself in two, pretending one half doesn’t exist. And I wouldn’t want you to. I can be happy anywhere, as long as I’m with you.”
He feared that would not be true. But she was as single-minded as a shark on a blood trail. The best he’d been able to do was to convince her to let him take her on a short visit to Atlantis. Today, he would show her what her life would truly be like if she joined him under the waves.
Then they would return to Shifting Sands. And she would make her final decision.
“Stop looking like your dog died,” Martha said, zipping up the wetsuit. “Or your goldfish, or whatever it is you people keep as pets. Do you have pets in Atlantis?”
“No. Martha, you don’t yet understand how different-“
“Nope, and I don’t intend to wait one further moment to find out.” Clumsy in her flippers, she waddled over, reaching up to pull at his arm. “Stop fretting, Finn. It’ll be fine.”
He let her draw him down for a kiss, but he couldn’t stop his hands from clenching into fists. More than he ever had before in his life, he hated what he was.
I am weak, weak to allow her to make this sacrifice. Oath-brother, you would be ashamed of me.
He should be the one giving up everything for her. After all, his own oath-brother, the Pearl Emperor, had left the ocean for the sake of his human mate. At the time, Finn had come close to hating him for being able to abandon the Pearl Throne—abandon him—so easily.
Forgive me, oath-brother. I understand now. I would do exactly the same, if she asked.
But she hadn’t.
She knew that there was no place for a shark in her warm, joyful pack. Yet they were true mates, unable to be parted. Since he could not join her world, she would sentence herself to his.
And he was too weak to stop her.
“It will be fine,” she repeated, breaking away from the kiss at last. Despite her words, a little crease of worry marked her brow. “Now, are you absolutely certain I don’t need scuba gear?”
He took her hand, turning it palm-up. “All you need is this.”
“Oh, Finn, it’s beautiful.” Martha held the hinged, filigree locket up to the light, admiring the pattern of curling waves worked into the gold. “This may sound silly, but…is it magic?”
“No. It is just a container.” Fighting down sudden nerves, he held out his hand again. “This is magic.”
Martha’s eyes widened at the sight of the pearl in his palm. He was, he secretly had to admit, rather pleased with the way it had turned out. It was an unusual silvery gray, like storm clouds, with flashes of blue-green iridescence where it caught the light.
“That’s never a real pearl, is it?” Martha’s finger hovered over the shining surface, as if she was scared to touch it. “It’s enormous!”
“I would have liked to make it bigger.” He eyed it critically, searching once again for any hint of a flaw. It had to be perfect, if he was to entrust his mate to its magic. “But I ran out of time.”
Martha’s startled gaze jerked up. “You made it? How?”
In answer, he put his other hand on top of the pearl, hiding it from sight. Closing his eyes, he rolled it one last time between his palms.
The hidden fire of thermal vents, where the very water burns. The taste of sulfur in his gills. Tiny, glowing creatures who would never know the sun, going about their private, secret lives on the dark sea floor. Unconcerned by his vast silent form soaring through their sky.
Martha gasped as he opened both hands and eyes again. The pearl glowed for a second with the memory he’d wrapped around it, before it faded into the shining surface.
“That’s what you were fiddling with the other day!” she exclaimed. “In bed, the morning after the dance. You were making this pearl?”
He nodded, taking the golden locket from her and opening it. “The sea dragons lay claim to many arts. But this one they stole from my people. We are not adept with words. We make our thoughts into pearls instead. They can have great power, depending on what is put into them.”
She watched as he fastened the pearl into the locket. “And what did you put in this one?”
“The dreams of a shark.” Carefully, he fastened it around her slender neck. “To teach your body what mine already knows.”
Her hand flew to the locket. “I’m going to shift into a shark?”
Her evident dismay cut him to his heart…though he could not blame her for it. If he was a coyote, he would not want to turn into a shark either.
“No,” he said, his voice roughening. “That is beyond my art, and I would not do it even if I could. But it should at least allow you to breathe underwater.”
Martha still looked worried, but her back straightened. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s test it out.”
She marched into the surf without another word, dignified as a queen for all her ridiculous, clumsy flippers.
Oh, my mate, my fearless coyote. I am not worthy of your courage.
Nonetheless, he followed, keeping close to her side as she swam out into the bay. Though he had made many pearls for many purposes over his long life, he had never before made one like this. He found himself holding his own breath as she ducked under the waves.
She came up laughing, her silver-streaked hair sleek as a seal, eyes shining. She had to splutter up seawater before she could speak. “Oh my Lord, that’s amazing!”
He let out his breath, his racing heart subsiding at her evident delight. “It pleases you?”
She threw herself at him in answer, wrapping arms and legs around his torso. In the water, they were the same height; she could kiss him freely, without him having to stoop down to her. He tasted sea and salt on her lips as she claimed him with fierce, unrestrained joy.
“Come on,” she said, releasing him at last. “Show me your world.”
Chapter 15
Martha had worried that her inner coyote would be panicked by the unnatural environment. She needn’t have feared. Her animal’s tail was wagging so hard, it made her own tailbone tingle.
Coyotes were tricksters at heart. And as far as her coyote was concerned, this was the greatest trick ever.
Chase those, her coyote urged as a brilliant shoal of tiny yellow fish swirled past. And those. And those!
Martha giggled at her animal’s enthusiasm, a stream of silver bubbles rising from her mouth. Succumbing to temptation, she flicked her flippered feet, propelling herself toward the nearest group of fish. They scattered at her approach, exploding in all directions like Fourth of July fireworks.
Better than pigeons! her coyote crowed. Oh, good mate, excellent mate, to lead us to such fine hunting grounds. Chase that one!
Martha firmly reined in her inner coyote before the fool animal had her panting after the poor fish like a dog chasing squirrels. She looked for Finn, and discovered him effortlessly keeping pace, a little above her. Though he was still in human form, he didn’t seem to be having any trouble breathing underwater either.
Did he make himself a pearl too?
She wanted to ask him, but only bubbles came out when she tried to speak. Catching his eye, she pointed at the locket he’d given her, then gestured at him in silent query.
He shook his head in answer, lifting his chin to show her the gills that had opened in his neck. His hands had become webbed, and his skin had taken on a steely cast, echoing his color in his full shark form. She’d heard of shifters who were able to do partial transformations, though she’d never seen one before.
Just as well he can. He’d beach himself if he shifted this close to shore.
But that meant that these sunlit, teeming waters weren’t where he truly belonged. Martha could have spent all day marveling at the jeweled fish—not to mention the crabs and urchins and other creatures she didn’t even have names for that were bumbling busily around the sea fl
oor—but they weren’t what she’d come here to see.
She wanted to know his true home.
She kicked her feet, heading farther out to sea. She wasn’t normally a strong swimmer, but now she soared through the water as easily as a bird through the sky. The saltwater tasted pure and sweet in her mouth, as natural as air. She was weightless. Free.
If this is what it’s like to be a shark, I don’t know how he can stand to come up onto land.
She’d been expecting the rippling sands of the sea floor to slowly drop away, but instead the transition from shallows to deep sea was sharp as a cliff. She hesitated at the edge of the drop-off, peering down. All she could see below was a murky, blue-green void, fading into blackness.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself—but Finn caught her hand before she could push out into that terrifying emptiness. Wait, he mouthed.
He dove into the abyss, barely seeming to need to move a muscle to propel himself through the water. Even though she knew he was perfectly safe, she couldn’t help her heart skipping a beat as he disappeared into the dark. More than ever, she wished that they were fully mated, so that they could speak mind-to-mind.
A shockwave of displaced water shook the sea, tumbling her head over heels. By the time she’d righted herself, his iron-gray form was rising back out of the depths.
Even though she’d seen him before, she still caught her breath in awe. He’d been big enough viewed from above, from the safety of the boat. Now that she was actually in the water with him, he seemed to fill the entire sea.
She had to dog-paddle madly to hold her position as he swept past, the currents from his passage tugging at her limbs. His mouth was barely open, but she could still have walked straight between those serried teeth without having to duck her head. If he opened his jaw fully, he could swallow the whole world.
He circled round, slowing as he returned, though he never quite came to a complete stop. He’d warned her that his type of shark needed to keep swimming in order to breathe. This time as he came past, she’d recovered enough presence of mind to swim out to him as they’d agreed.
She caught hold of his towering dorsal fin. Now she understood why he’d insisted she wear diving gloves—his hide was coarse as diamond-grit sandpaper. If she’d been bare-handed, just the slightest brush would have taken the skin off her palms.
Feeling rather like a tick hitching a ride on a bull, she nestled down against his back. She patted him to signal that she was ready.
The great muscles flexed underneath her. Even though she’d been braced for it, she still nearly fell clear off his back as he swept forward. She tightened her grip, water streaming through her hair.
Good Lord, he was powerful. From the slow sweeps of his tail, he was barely making an effort, yet his massive form cut through the water with dizzying speed.
She squinted her eyes against the current rushing past. Already, she could barely see the glimmering surface overhead. Deep blue engulfed them. Every stroke of his fins carried her further and further away from everything she’d ever known.
She breathed deeply, water flowing through her mouth, and tried to calm her racing heart. She pressed against his rough back, drawing comfort from his vast strength. She was with her mate. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
This was where she was meant to be.
He slowed a little, his great head questing from side to side as if sniffing out a scent-trail. Maybe it was the shark-pearl he’d made for her, but Martha could have sworn that she too could taste a difference in the water. A hint of a hidden current; a cold, foreign thread.
I will take you through a Sea Gate, he’d told her. There is an ancient one here, so old that no one knows which Emperor or Empress first created it. It will take us to Atlantis.
A thrill went through her at the prospect of more magic. She strained her eyes, looking for—well, in truth, she wasn’t quite sure what. A big stone portal, maybe, or a glowing underwater whirlpool.
Instead, the Sea Gate turned out to be much less dramatic than she’d expected. Curving his body, Finn propelled them through a patch of water that looked no different from any other bit. Except then—they were somewhere else.
Martha gasped at the suddenly ice-cold sea. These weren’t the gentle, tropical waters of the Caribbean, but the chill depths of the northern Atlantic. She shivered in her wetsuit, instinctively hunkering close to Finn’s back, although in truth he was no warmer than the water.
Then she looked down, and forgot all about being cold.
Atlantis gleamed below them. Pearl-white towers rose from the seven tiers of the city, glittering with lights like sunken stars. A golden palace crowned the very tip of the underwater mountain, bright as fire in the dark water. Shimmering bubbles of air enclosed some buildings, but most were left open to the sea.
It was something out of a fairytale. Just like he was.
Finn had gone still beneath her, as if he was trying to judge her reaction. She pressed her body against his back, spreading her arms as wide as she could.
Thank you. Thank you for showing me your home. For letting me in.
Even though she could only span a tiny fraction of his vast form, she knew he’d recognized the hug from the way his taut muscles relaxed. He started swimming down toward the city, his body undulating in slow, easy movements.
Good mate, excellent mate. Her coyote pranced in circles, eager as a pup. So much to see, so much to sniff! We will run and hunt and dig. And when the pack gathers to chew stories like bones under the moon, this is the one that they will beg us to tell, over and over again.
Her animal’s insatiable curiosity made her smile…but even as she did, a shiver of unease twitched her shoulders. Her coyote thought this was all some grand adventure. A story to tell their grandpups. Her animal didn’t yet realize that this was going to be their new home.
New home? Her coyote twitched an ear, as if bothered by a fly. Nonsense. Our pack is not here.
Our mate is here, Martha pointed out to her beast.
Of course he is. Because we are here. Her coyote yawned, utterly certain of itself. And when we go home, he will come with us. Good mate, strong mate. He will help protect our cubs.
Martha shook her head, knowing better than to try to argue with her stubborn animal. No matter what her beast thought, Arizona was no place for a shark, while a coyote could make itself comfortable just about anywhere.
And her kids were grown-ass adults, as Nita so often reminded her. It was about time she learned to back off a little. She’d still be able to go visit them. This was no different to retiring to Florida or wherever. Just…a little farther off.
If you have to work so hard to convince yourself you’re doing the right thing, Manuel had told her on more than one occasion, you probably aren’t.
Martha squelched the ghostly whisper in her memory. She was doing the right thing. Now that she’d seen Atlantis, she was sure of it. How could she ever ask Finn to leave all this shining wonder for the dull, everyday world above the water?
Holding tight to his back, she let her mate carry her home.
By the time they finally made it back to the resort, Martha’s legs felt made of lead. She stumbled up the sloping beach, every step a huge effort after the weightless freedom of the sea. But the physical exhaustion of her body was nothing compared to her overwhelmed mind. Her head was so stuffed full of marvels, it was a wonder pearls weren’t leaking out of her ears.
The coral-paved streets and intricate mosaics, the underwater gardens and the elegant, shell-white towers…it all blended together in her memory like a dream. And the people, the people! The beauties of the city were nothing compared to the splendor of its inhabitants.
Towering sea dragons with jewel-toned hair, their language more like singing than speech. Quick, fluid seal shifters, so graceful it was a joy just to watch them walk down the street. Orcas and dolphins, walruses and whales…more types of shifter than she’d ever imagined existed.
&n
bsp; She’d even met the Pearl Empress—an astonishingly tall, breathtakingly beautiful young woman with calm, sea-blue eyes. Martha hadn’t needed the crown on her head or the retinue of knights attending her to know that this was a person of power. Yet the Empress—the ruler of the whole sea!—had smiled at her, taking her hands in her own.
“I hope you will be very happy here.” Bizarrely, she’d had a soft Scottish accent, totally unlike the alien tones of every other sea dragon she’d heard that day. “If there’s anything I can do to make you feel at home, tell me. I too know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Atlantis.”
Then the Empress had actually winked at her, lowering her voice. “I can assure you, I’ve at least improved the food down here.”
Martha had been too tongue-tied to do more than stammer out a few incoherent words in response. The grandeur, the magic, the glittering sea dragons swimming through the city in their native forms…it was all too overwhelming.
Now she felt like she needed to sit in a darkened room for a week, just to process everything she’d seen. Even her coyote was exhausted, lying belly-up and panting at the bottom of her soul.
“Martha.” Finn touched her shoulder, and before she knew what was happening she found herself scooped up in his arms. “I am sorry. We should not have stayed so long.”
“It’s all right.” She leaned gratefully against his broad shoulder. “There was just so much to see. And I still don’t think I saw a tenth of it.”
“There is plenty of time to see the rest.” He fell silent for a moment, carrying her up the beach. “If…you are still certain.”
She kissed his neck, tasting the saltwater on his skin. “I still want to be with you, if that’s what you mean. And Atlantis is marvelous. Thank you.”
Though having seen the place, she had no idea what she was going to do there all day. Apart from just gape at everything like a country bumpkin.
We’ll figure it out. She snuggled closer into her mate’s neck, wrapped in the security of his strong arms. We’ll be together. Everything will be fine, as long as we’re together.