Stolen by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 4)

by Starla Night

  Zara would never have turned against her old allies. Not even to save her own life. She would have fought to the death. He was the failure.

  A silence fell.

  Finally, Zara spoke. “I assume your people also threatened Zain.”

  “Yes. If I did not go to war, I could no longer see him.”

  “No visitation? I would have expected something worse.”

  He tilted his head. “What could be worse?”

  “That if you refused, he would suffer.”

  “Suffer? You mean an injury?” Horror filled him. He recoiled. “Of course not! No warrior would ever harm a young fry.”

  She frowned.

  “This threat was a brutal punishment,” he assured her.

  The cruelty had shocked all the warriors. Even the elders. But no one had protested.

  Not aloud.

  They’d gathered at the edge of Dragao Azul’s territory and, instead of singing battle songs for success in warfare, they’d hummed the requiem for sending a fallen warrior on his final journey into the blacknight sea.

  They knew his king had sent him off to die.

  Zara studied him pensively.

  “I went to kill Kadir and Soren,” he repeated, because she seemed confused.

  “I get it.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t blame you.”

  “You do not?”

  “I wanted to kill Kadir for his pointless preaching. I certainly would have killed Soren the night he forced me to the surface.”

  Her words tingled against his chest like a balm. She didn’t hate him. Yet.

  He ruthlessly crushed his hope. “I led the army, as ordered, but not whole-heartedly. So, not only did I betray my allies. I also failed in my duties as a warrior, a mer, and a male.”

  “Shocking,” she said dryly.

  “It was dishonorable and unkind. Most warriors were dissenters, like myself, forcefully conscripted.”

  The All-Council orders broke the first rules of honorable combat — to treat every warrior like a brother demanding respect — and this was yet another knife into Elan’s soul.

  “That sounds hard for you.” Zara eased her weight from one foot to the other. “When’s the part about the queens?”

  His deepest shame.

  “One day, on reconnaissance, I saw Soren’s bride.”

  “He got a bride?” Zara’s brows leaped for her forehead. “Him?”

  Elan had felt the same. Only his had been tainted with bitter shock and rage.

  Certainly Soren deserved a bride. Once, Elan had wished for the imposing male’s happiness. But to see him enjoying the closeness Elan couldn’t slammed his grief at losing Zara full force, turning his vision cloudy and twisting his self-loathing to blind fury.

  “I attacked recklessly. It is,” he sucked in a deep breath, confessing the worst moment, “the least honorable act I have committed in my whole life. His bride could have been injured or killed.”

  “But?”

  “But she used her queen power to push me back. She shielded herself and Soren from my attack.”

  Zara raised one skeptical brow.

  “If she had not done this, I would have committed an unforgivable act,” he finished.

  “But you didn’t. Nothing happened.”

  “I attacked—”

  “Yes, you blindly attacked Soren while his queen was nearby and she repelled you. So nothing happened.”

  She understood nothing. “I broke all rules of honor, warfare, and the code of the mer.” He explained slowly as to a newborn young fry. “I attacked a warrior in the presence of his bride.”

  “Yes. Honor. Sorry, my mistake, I forgot the point.” She rubbed her brow. “And so the other times you attacked also failed?”

  “Only because the queens used their powers to—”

  “They prevented it?”

  “—prevent it, yes.” How strange. He’d expected Zara’s judgment to hurt, but confessing lightened the weight crushing his soul. “During the final battle, I escaped to Dragao Azul.”

  Abandoning warriors in battle also broke multiple rules, but by then, Elan had felt he had no honor left.

  “And you were welcomed back as a hero,” she guessed dryly.

  “I preferred my enemies — and allies — to believe I had died in the battle. I snuck into Dragao Azul for the sole purpose of bringing Zain to you. And I was caught, but the supervising warriors pitied me and allowed us to escape.”

  “They let you go?”

  “We all felt the injustice. The All-Council is supposed to ensure treaties are upheld. Yet they broke nearly all treaties in their attack on Atlantis.”

  Dragooning Elan at trident-point was only one example.

  Sacrificing honor to enforce the ancient covenant was like breaking an arm to distract from the pain of a scratched fin. Zara never seemed surprised at such hypocrisy, but the mer were rightly shocked.

  “Now you know,” he said. “Everything.”

  Her gaze narrowed slightly. “Hmm. I just have a few questions.”

  “Ask.”

  Details about the battles, Elan’s role in the attacks, and small issues of no importance filled her mind. Like, did Atlantis have a Life Tree like Dragao Azul? Did he actually see the queens with transformed fins? Had he led any attacks or fled at the first moment?

  After his final answer, the silence, in the absence of the rain and wind, felt absolute. Now Elan’s fate would be decided.

  And she was studying him with … well, with unhappiness. And consternation. As though she wanted to hate him, but didn’t feel justified. The only thing more important to Zara than protecting others was justice. Even though he had described a clear picture of how wrong he had acted, she did not revile him.

  Finally, he asked. “You do not hate me?”

  Her lips squinched to one side. “No.”

  Shock jolted him. Was it possible? He moved forward, reaching for her, needing the proof in her touch, her pliant body in his arms.

  “Stop.” She held up her hands. “Don’t be hasty. I’m still processing.”

  His arms dropped to his sides. Processing meant she had not decided. When she fully comprehended, then she would change.

  Her expression softened. “I understand you’re traumatized. But based just on what you’ve told me tonight, I don’t think you did anything really wrong.”

  The hope in him rekindled. He tried to snuff it. She hadn’t processed. She wasn’t certain. He had done many really wrong things since their last parting.

  “You asked me why I came here.” He swallowed and faced the truth. “Once, I offered you a noble castle in a well-established city and myself as an honorable warrior. Now, I have nothing. No castle, no city, no honor. I am an exile. I have nowhere to go.”

  “So you came to me,” she snorted.

  “Yes.”

  She sobered.

  “I have come to my end. My only desire was to bring you Zain. You will keep him safe where I failed. You have a power that can drive off an army. You must capture it for all our sakes.” He let out his final sigh. “This is as far as I go.”

  She frowned. “You talk like you’re about to die.”

  “The All-Council cannot allow a mer who has committed such betrayals, even an exile, to live. They will find me. And then, they will kill me.”

  Her mouth drew into a flat line.

  But he was not trying to manipulate her. He eased forward. Gently, softly stroking her taut arms. “Because of this truth, I want to spend my last hours with you.”

  She frowned. Processing again, still.

  He should not wish for too much. But still, he wished for all of her.

  In the bathroom, Zain made a lilting noise.

  Zara moved instantly to the doorway of the bathroom. Zain had rolled upright and looked at them, awake but sleepy. He lifted his hands and made the noise again. “Oo?”

  Zara started forward and then stopped and curled her hands into fists. She gestured at Elan.
“You go.”

  His heart ached. She was still afraid of hurting Zain with her ragged desire.

  Elan stepped forward, collected their son, and rocked Zain in his arms until the baby closed his eyes once more and collapsed over Elan’s shoulder. He resettled the baby in his cool, damp seaweed. Zain curled his fingers in ropes and sighed, encouraged back to sleep.

  At the doorway, Zara ducked away.

  His heart squeezed.

  She had finished her processing and would run from him now. His actions had sparked her hate. She would never have lead an army against Atlantis, not even—

  “I’m sorry.” She stopped and took his hand, teased her fingers around his. “I accused you of leaving me alone as if that were your choice. It was a long year apart for both of us.”

  His throat went dry. Elan nodded, afraid to speak. He didn’t want to break the spell.

  “You look exhausted.”

  He coughed. “I do not remember the last time I slept.”

  “Come here.” She tugged him to the wide couch, made him lie down, and spread a thin blanket over top. “Sleep. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  He did not know whether sleep would be possible. Alone, in a human room, could he escape the dark memories that had kept him awake in the sea?

  She sat on the edge of the couch and removed her sandals.

  He startled.

  She glanced over her shoulder and raised her brow. “Problem?”

  He shook his head violently.

  “Scoot back.”

  He shoved deep into the seam of the couch.

  She eased against him, her back to his chest, her cool, soft derriere pressing against his stiffening cock. Her voice smiled. “Still not satisfied?”

  “I am very satisfied.” He couldn’t help his body’s reaction. Her nearness calmed the raging in his chest and the self-loathing choking him with recriminations. She really did forgive him. His chest shuddered. His breath ran away. He could cry. “Very.”

  His thigh suctioned against hers. She stroked his hard muscle soothingly. “You haven’t slept in a long time, right?”

  He cleared the choke from his throat, but his answer was still ragged. “No.”

  “Sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  There would be another talk.

  Since the alternative was her never speaking to him again, he collapsed into exhaustion. He should have appreciated the soft, delicious form of his wife pressed up against him. How many more opportunities would he have? And after he’d promised himself so many times to savor her, too…

  Chapter Eleven

  Elan awoke alone. Late morning light warmed his couch. The house was empty.

  Had Zara reconsidered her feelings and slipped away? She was justified to fear such an honor-less, dark-souled male.

  He walked through the rooms, desperation and nerves building.

  His sense that they were not within the house was correct. Zara was outside sitting on the terracotta. Beside her, Zain wore another human outfit. This time, a brown onesie with two soft, rounded ears on a hood. Some kind of gentle, plush creature.

  She wore a fresh pair of beige long shorts with red bow ties, a fluffy red shirt that displayed the attractive mounds of her full breasts, and a wide-brimmed white hat.

  “You slept soundly,” she noted in greeting, her smile unguarded in the sun.

  Her smile struck him in the chest. Unguarded after the previous night? Then, something had changed.

  “You did not attempt to wake me?” he asked, focusing on anything but the throat-squeezing change. “You are becoming closer to Zain.”

  “He still cries when I pick him up. Milly brought him out here before she went to class. But he doesn’t mind if I sit close like this. I can even touch him.” She placed her palm on the small of his back. Zain’s soul light flared, matching hers. “So long as it’s not picking him up or hugging him.”

  His chest ached.

  “He is reacting to your soul light,” he said. “You are calm and bright now. But you become dark when you pick him up.”

  She scowled. Her light darkened.

  “There.” He pointed to Zain, who began to fuss and crawl away. “Your sadness and anger affects him.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” She rubbed her chest roughly as though trying to scrape her negative feelings away. “I missed the first year of his life. He doesn’t know me. And I’m the only one who upsets him.”

  “That is because he is closest to you.”

  She snorted. “He’s closest to you, obviously.”

  True as well. He and Zain had an unbreakable connection. But so did Zain and Zara. And it meant more because Zain hadn’t seen Zara since birth. The connection existed powerfully even after a year.

  But she couldn’t break the cycle. Zain’s apparent rejection hurt her heart, which then caused them both pain.

  Facing Zara head-on never worked. But approaching her sideways was a good option.

  “It is as your Vaw Vaw said,” he said softly, squatting beside the two of them and tucking a loose strand of silky hair behind her ear. “You are his important person.”

  Her light swelled with his touch.

  Zain lifted his upper body on his hands and looked up at his mother. She softened and stroked his back. He crawled toward her, his palms pushing and his fins paddling in the air, wiggling forward. She stroked his soft dark hair and fat cheeks.

  “It takes time,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “Ugh. I just want to be over this already.”

  “You can be together more naturally in the water. Your feelings will flow.”

  Her smile twisted to wry irritation. “You know what I think about the water.”

  Anger pushed him to stand abruptly. “Why?”

  She squinted up at him as though to ask, Really?

  “You must grow your power. You have never backed away from a fight, Zara.”

  “That was before. Now I’m smart.” She clenched her fists on her lap. “I don’t want to lose Zain again.”

  Not him. Zain.

  He was jealous of his son.

  The pettiness only made him angrier. “The best way to protect him is to capture your power. Go to the beach today. Now. Dive beneath the waves and grow your confidence. Then you can make your fins.”

  Her brows rose. “Which one of us isn’t listening?”

  Frustration gnawed on him.

  Last night she’d claimed not to hate him, and she’d slept beside him, giving him the comfort he most craved. He’d slept well for the first time in a year.

  But this morning impatience welled in his heart. Biting self-loathing, fearsome anxiety. Her refusal to go into the water was like a denial of his existence. She tolerated him as a human, rejected him as a mer.

  “Zain has never spent so long above the surface,” he snarled, reminding her that her own son was also a mer.

  “He’s never spent any time above the surface,” she returned, “so another few days won’t hurt.”

  “Zara.”

  “You said he’s half human. Humans don’t need the water.”

  “Do not ask him to deny half of his heritage.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Why not? You do it all the time.”

  Her accusation stabbed him.

  This judgment of traditions also denied him. Criticizing Zain’s raising denied him. Rejecting her power denied him.

  But he did not fight her. He waited.

  She rubbed her forehead. “Sorry. I know it’s not you.”

  A small bit of the impatience eased.

  “You, Zara, drank the elixir. You, too, are mer.”

  “Not according to your people.”

  “That is their error. Do not let them determine your destiny.”

  She frowned.

  “Did you not love swimming beneath the waves? Diving through unseen lands, dancing with incredible creatures?”

  The corners of her lips turned up. She sighed. “
Don’t quote my own words back at me.”

  “You shone so brightly then. You can do so again. When you deny this part of yourself, you shrink and your soul light darkens.”

  She nodded slowly. “I’m still feeling muddled. Blurred. Like, I can’t tell if I’m happy right now or terrified. All I know is I feel something, and that’s still a change.” She looked up at him with her dark brown eyes. “Can you give me time?”

  Impatience gnawed at him.

  He forced his nod.

  She folded her lips, stroked his cheek in thanks, and focused on Zain.

  He straightened. His limbs felt too loose and his chest wanted … something. She had agreed to consider going into the ocean and he wasn’t satisfied. No, in truth, he was more irritated than ever. He rubbed at the worrisome itch beneath his heart.

  What was wrong with him?

  He had confessed. Why was he not healed of these dark feelings? She had forgiven him. Unfathomable. So why wasn’t he already better?

  He pushed. “We will go to the beach.”

  “After Border and Immigration.” She rose. “Eat. It’s going to be a long day.”

  They attended the offices and filled out reams of paperwork. Despite her reluctance to claim her power, she did claim him as her husband.

  Something had changed.

  And even though she quickly exhibited signs of irritation and impatience in the waiting room and then in the offices, he felt increasingly settled. So long as he was with her, he could endure. And sitting was no problem.

  “How soon until we can get passports?” she asked the officers. “I want to take my husband and son to California as soon as possible.”

  “It is not so simple,” the agent replied. “If Portuguese citizenship is granted to this merman, what of others who arrive on our shores? They do not carry paperwork. How are we to know if another country has already claimed them? Do they have rights to our medical care or state benefits?”

  “Their medical care is the magical tree in their underwater village,” she said dryly. “The Life Tree? From which all the super valuable, healing Sea Opals come from? Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

  “Then what about voting?” The agent shook his head. “There are many questions. They must be answered thoroughly for all mermen who arise from the sea.”