Shattered by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 8)

by Starla Night

  “That’s why I have to be strong for the both of us.”

  “Dannika—”

  “I’ll see you on the beach.” She closed the door on him and rested her back against the warm wood.

  Last time, after days of fighting her unexpected attraction to the two-tone warrior, she’d finally sat him down and formally rejected him. He’d taken it hard, refusing her offer to meet any other matches, and stormed to the docks. Instead of the relief she’d expected to feel, her heart had come loose in her chest and felt strangely bereft. Almost…well, not devastated, but she’d spent the next two weeks fighting back tears when she misplaced a paperclip.

  And now he was back.

  She peeked out the window.

  Ciran stared at the closed door. His jaw flexed. He was not angry this time. Not bitter.

  No.

  The emotion reflected in those fierce eyes was determination.

  Uh-oh.

  He tipped his head as if to say that this round had gone to her, but he was far from beaten. He turned on a heel and strode decisively down the beach path to his warriors.

  She rested her head on the wood and let out a huge sigh, then rotated the small silver wedding band on her ring finger.

  Just because she had a feeling didn’t mean she had to act on it.

  Dannika had fielded interest from plenty of good, kind men. Had she acted? No. Because she’d already met her soul mate. Met and married him.

  Everyone deserved that bliss.

  Ciran would just have to move on to a better woman. One who made his face light up with happiness.

  Dannika had to keep him at arm’s length until he got it.

  He’d get over his infatuation.

  Any minute now.

  Chapter Two

  Dannika could not deny her soul’s desire forever.

  Ciran stormed down the white stone path, through scrubby brush, and descended to the pink sand beach. Energy pulsed in his veins. Excitement flushed his pores.

  He had given up on her once.

  You’re a sweet warrior, Ciran, but I just can’t return your feelings. I’m sorry. You’ll soon understand. She’d rejected him kindly, and he’d believed that she could sense more in their souls than he could.

  But her glowing reaction to him just now had confirmed the truth.

  She was his bride.

  He would never give up on her again.

  His second-in-command, Lotar, waited in the clear, sandy shallows. His iridescent gray tattoos glistened with droplets of seawater, and his dark hair slicked back against his skull. He wore red Bermuda shorts, tight against his trim body.

  The other warriors clustered behind him, nude and waist-deep in the gently rolling waves.

  “Where is Dannika?” Gailen asked.

  “Dressing.” Ciran nodded at the pile of sand-strewn shorts and shirts. “Wear the human coverings.”

  They slogged to the beach and obeyed. Gailen struggled with the unusual fastenings, and the other warriors helped him.

  “Does this mean we will make the dating profile videos for Dannika?” Gailen asked. “Or will she go with you to Atlantis now?”

  “You will make the video.”

  “Will she share it with mainland brides?” Tial, a smaller warrior with large eyes and evergreen tattoos, asked. “Will there be time?”

  “She will share it.”

  “When is she leaving as your bride?” Nilun demanded.

  Ciran hesitated.

  Lotar met his gaze. He was a silent, introspective warrior with excellent instincts, but given the choice, he preferred to swim alone. He’d led this unit of warriors to Bermuda without complaint, but anticipated releasing his responsibilities.

  “She has not accepted my claim,” Ciran said finally.

  Lotar tipped his head in silent relief.

  The other warriors stared at Ciran.

  “Why not?” Tial asked. “When she saw you, she glowed brighter than the sun.”

  “Her soul was blinding,” Gailen agreed.

  “Is she frightened?” Nilun asked, his sharp tone and gestures turning even the simplest question into an urgent query. “Does she think you will fail to protect her? Does she not know you are a second lieutenant, and you would die before she came to harm?”

  Ah.

  Nilun’s high opinion of him soothed Ciran’s taut brow like a balm. He rolled his shoulders, trying to release muscles that carried too much tension. “Dannika does not have unworthy thoughts. She will fulfill her promises to the mer before she allows any personal consideration to intrude.”

  “Can she not do that as your bride?” Gailen asked.

  “She can.”

  “Then…”

  The distant cawing of sea birds sounded lonely on the rustling wind.

  Tial’s already large eyes grew wider. He asked softly, “Are you okay?”

  Of course Ciran was not okay.

  He’d surfaced to claim his soul mate, and she denied him. All the warriors had surfaced for the same reason. His failure shook the very foundation of Atlantis.

  Long ago, mer and humans had lived in harmony, but a mysterious Great Catastrophe had plunged the two races into war. The mer had retreated to the undersea world and faded into human legend.

  But then their females had died out, and their race had faced extinction.

  The ruling All-Council had forged an ancient covenant with human brides on sacred islands who promised to keep the mer’s secret. Each bride would descend, give birth to a young fry—always male—and then return to her island community. In that way, the undersea world once more thrived.

  But in recent generations, the sacred islands had emptied and modernized. Few brides remained; fewer young fry were born. The mer once more faced extinction.

  Then, a new voice arose. Kadir urged the warriors to break the ancient covenant, reveal their existence to humans, and seek mainland brides. Across the ocean, rebels had joined his ranks, and Kadir had founded a new city in the wreckage of the ancient Atlantis.

  Ciran was one of the first warriors to join his rebellion. He was one of the first warriors to seek a mainland bride.

  And he was one of the first warriors to fail.

  What barrier prevented Dannika from accepting his claim?

  The obvious answer was that she did not value herself. She sacrificed her safety, her happiness, her future for others. That was too much. She needed a warrior to protect, honor, and treasure her.

  That warrior was Ciran.

  But there was something else. Something deeper she refused to share. He sensed the barrier, submerged beneath her easy rejections, perhaps hiding even from her own consciousness.

  Eventually, he would dismantle her easy rejections and then, together, they would face her real objection.

  In the meantime, he needed to explain her refusal in a way his impulsive, loyal, too-helpful warriors could understand.

  “I will not ask Dannika to be less honorable than she is. She must meld modern dating with the sacred bride ceremonies. When warriors can find their brides without her intervention, then she and I will, of course, descend and marry before the Atlantis Life Tree.”

  Another long silence followed.

  “Perhaps she is not the only one who is too honorable,” one of his warriors muttered.

  Ciran crossed his arms. “Who said that?”

  They shuffled uncomfortably.

  Gailen finally spoke to ease the tension. “You are from Undine, so you can devise a strategy to meld these systems for Dannika.”

  “I am from Atlantis now.”

  “Ah, yes…But she knows you were from Undine, right?”

  “We have not discussed my origin.”

  “Forget this human dating. I have the answer.” Nilun jabbed his finger at the pink coral sand. “Willing brides come to this beach, here. They drink the elixir and enter the ocean. Warriors swim among them as a predator swims among prey. Then, when a warrior finds the bride who resonates with his
soul, he cuts her from the rest of the humans, and it is done. She is his. There are no surface words or meaningless delays. She must accept our claim, no choice, and we descend directly to Atlantis.”

  “That is not the human way.” Lotar’s voice was soft but incisive.

  “The human way takes too long. Why so much conversation and argument? And even the brightest humans cannot see soul lights as the mer do.”

  “It is strange.” Gailen squinted at the path to the human sleeping areas. “Why must Second Lieutenant Ciran, a serious and honorable warrior, labor to convince Dannika of his worth when Zoan, a much lesser warrior, easily convinced his bride to accept his claim?”

  “Are you talking about me again?” Zoan called from the top of the beach.

  “When am I not?” Gailen saluted the jolly warrior striding down the white stone path. His thumbs did not align properly, so he could never make the proper form. “Where is your bride? Did she escape you already?”

  “Do not insult Zoan!” Nilun quested for the daggers that were not on his bare biceps and thighs, and then clenched his fists. “He is a warrior a hundred times your worth.”

  “I do not know if I am one hundred times the worth of Gailen.” Zoan’s shirt buttoned improperly, and his dark hair stuck up askew as if a loving bride had ruffled it. He lifted his hands and wiggled his thumbs. “Perhaps just two thumbs’ worth.”

  Nilun frowned.

  Gailen gave him a wry grin. “She did run away from you, then?”

  “To gather her family. They are having something called an ‘engagement party’ and she is buying a dress. But her family will come here later. Perhaps one of her three sisters is a match for you.”

  The warriors straightened.

  “Brides should come to us.” Nilun flexed his arms. “Mine will know I am a capable warrior, and although I am not a second lieutenant, she will not hesitate to accept my claim.”

  Everyone looked at Ciran and then swiftly away.

  Zoan’s gaze followed. “You have found your bride?”

  “It is Dannika,” Gailen answered for Ciran, chatty as usual. “She glows brighter than the sun in his presence but refuses his claim. Answer me this, Zoan. Why should a bright female deny an honorable warrior like Ciran when another easily accepts a warrior like you?”

  “I know.” Zoan tapped his forehead. “Second Lieutenant Ciran, did you show her your size?”

  The warriors hooted.

  A mer hardened only when his bride teased him seductively, which usually happened in the privacy of his castle, so despite constant nudity, the warriors rarely saw each other aroused. But, apparently, arousal size held some importance to humans. It had become a topic of recent discussion.

  “My bride became quite excited,” Zoan continued. “We talked for hours about large houses, metal cars, and engagement dresses. Perhaps Dannika has a problem with your size?”

  The other warriors burst out laughing at his daring.

  Ciran lifted a brow. “My size?”

  “Of your mating gemstone.” Zoan’s face betrayed no hint of the comedy he’d set up. “Of course.”

  Mm-hm. Sure.

  Ciran let out a long, harassed sigh and shook his head.

  His warriors almost fell down with hysteria. Even Lotar, who never smiled, rubbed his lips.

  Ciran let them laugh. Zoan’s light-hearted question distracted from his very real problem.

  And anyway, Zoan’s teasing illuminated the strength of Atlantis.

  Their warriors came from so many cities that misunderstandings happened every day. King Kadir listened to the lowest-ranked warriors, accepted being wrong, and solicited their experience to change his rulings. His officers did the same. These moments of camaraderie formed the connections that bound the warriors together into a cohesive unit that Ciran was proud to lead.

  When their laughter subsided, Ciran divided the warriors into patrols, automatically systematizing their work according to their preferences and talents. Some shucked their human clothing to sweep the reef. Others looked for hidden dangers threatening their small, isolated beach.

  Zoan lingered nearby.

  Ciran saluted him. “Congratulations on claiming your bride. May your castle overflow with young fry.”

  Zoan saluted back. Then, he glanced around as if to check that no one was listening, and sidled closer to Ciran. “Is Dannika your bride? Truly? She is a bright female like Queen Aya. It can be difficult to sense which warrior makes her shine brightest.”

  A hot shard embedded in Ciran’s chest. “It is me.”

  “Then how can she reject you? It must pain her as much as it pains you.”

  “She has a long-standing tolerance to her own suffering.”

  “That cannot be healthy.”

  Ciran tipped his head. Zoan’s easy acceptance made the shard fade to a throb. “But her responsibilities at MerMatch overpower her soul’s desire.” For now.

  “Really?” Zoan gave a rare frown. “Is that what she says?”

  “Yes.” Ciran changed the subject before Zoan got too close to his own conclusion. “I have a unit ready to escort your bride to Atlantis.”

  “My bride wishes to remain on Bermuda and acclimate slowly to the mer life.”

  “How slowly?”

  “A month, a year. Perhaps five years.”

  “You would leave Atlantis for five years?”

  Zoan shrugged. “The time is up to my bride.”

  He rotated to face Zoan head-on. “Atlantis is always under attack. The All-Council plots to destroy our city. Will you avoid your duty to your fellow warriors? To your king?”

  “King Kadir does not mind.”

  “You just found your bride. How can he know?”

  “Dannika called the mid-Atlantic platform last night. They conveyed the message down their electrical wires into the city. It is so convenient, this human communication, is it not? Much faster than echo points and ocean currents.”

  Then it was true, and Ciran had made an improper assumption. “I overstepped. Forgive me.”

  Zoan choked. “Do my ears lie? Did a second lieutenant actually admit his mistake?”

  “I can repeat myself.”

  “No, no. We live in age of wonders.” Zoan sobered. “I must get used to trusting my ears. We rely on souls to convey feelings. If I have learned one thing from watching the queens at the Atlantis Life Tree, it is that they value their words more highly than warriors do.”

  Hmm.

  When Dannika talked, he only heard her disvaluing herself. Another bride would be better than her. Another bride would be more capable.

  Had he missed something? What else did she reveal?

  Gailen sloshed up to Zoan and threw an arm around the warrior’s shoulders. “Listen to this expert. He has had a bride for one day. Now, he knows everything about brides.”

  Zoan lifted his nose. “I already knew everything. My bride simply affirms my expertise.”

  “Expertise? How did you find such an innocent female?”

  Zoan elbowed him. “Good luck finding one who dislikes thumbs.”

  Gailen tripped Zoan over his knee and doused him in the shallows. Zoan splashed, thrashed, and then grappled Gailen. He toppled in after. The warriors wrestled good naturedly under the waves.

  Lotar looked over at them, alert to break up the altercation, then saw Ciran and hesitated.

  Nilun shouted and raced across the beach.

  Ciran stepped in front of Nilun. “Control yourself.”

  “Control myself?” The hot-headed warrior gestured at the shallow-water wrestlers. “Gailen attacked Zoan!”

  “Use your eyes. Are those warriors angry?”

  “They are fighting!”

  “Are they?”

  “Yes!”

  “Nilun.” Ciran pushed him back on his heels, forcing him up onto the wet sand. “If you cannot sense the difference between a friendly test of strength and a bloody duel, you will never rise in the ranks.”

&nbs
p; His chin jerked back and he stood ramrod straight. Rage contracted his features, but he quickly controlled it.

  “I know you can observe your surroundings,” Ciran said. “You are an excellent patroller and swift to defend your friends. Take a deep breath.”

  He inhaled through gritted teeth.

  “Tell me how you know it is a friendly test of strength.”

  “I do not,” he snarled.

  “Then tell me how I know. What signs do I see? Recite them.”

  The warrior glared at the wrestlers just like a recalcitrant trainee, even though he was a fully grown adult, but by degrees, his shoulders lowered and his brows lifted. “They do not seek their weapons. And Zoan did not crush Gailen as he could have.”

  Nilun shared a few more observations. Gailen and Zoan stopped wrestling on their own and clambered out, sopping wet from the surf, clapping each other on the back.

  “Practice honing these observations,” Ciran ordered. “Stop, observe, and then act.”

  Nilun frowned. “If I hesitate, someone could get hurt.”

  “If you do not hesitate, you will make a mistake.”

  “But—”

  “A mistake will hurt an innocent warrior. Do not let your fierce loyalty become your greatest flaw.”

  He lowered his gaze, nodded, and at Ciran’s order, returned to his patrol.

  Ciran mentally shuffled patrols to schedule Nilun with any warrior except Gailen. He needed a long time to cool.

  Across the sand, Lotar nodded at Ciran in silent respect. The grim set of his gray-tattooed jaw conveyed just how much he had not wanted to lead these warriors alone.

  At least one warrior was glad that Ciran had not already united with Dannika.

  He did not think he was unobservant. But if Zoan was right, he must hone his observations of Dannika or he would rush to the wrong conclusion like Nilun.

  She would reveal her secrets, and he would overcome every barrier until they united.

  The future of Atlantis depended on it.

  Chapter Three

  Ciran just had to realize he was wrong.

  Dannika slipped into a lavender caftan dress with an aqua scroll pattern down the front and along the split sleeves, then examined herself in the mirror.