by Lora Edwards
Delphine jumped at the sudden voice inside her head, knowing there must be another of her kind near as they were the only ones who could speak inside her head.
She looked down at the last step to find a mermaid sitting there, happy as could be, as if she was sunning herself on a rock. Her skin had a slight blue tinge, her hair so blonde it was almost white.
“Hello, cousin. I would be honored to come swim in your home,” Delphine said, divesting herself of her clothing. Shivering one last time, she dived into the icy water, the fire of the change distracting her from the bitter cold of the sea.
A splash and the mermaid swam beside her, leading her down into the depths. Stopping at the entrance of a cave, she turned to make sure Delphine was following before she swam inside. Delphine paused for a moment. Not all of her cousins were friendly, and these Norse mermaids were an unknown.
The mermaid turned and frowned. “Come, cousin. We wish you no harm.” Delphine felt the sincerity of her words, and with a flick of her purple tail, she followed deeper into the cave.
Delphine could feel the water become slightly warmer as they swam back into the cave system. Finally it opened up to reveal a mermaid pod. Their homes were carved from the rough hewn rock, and Delphine smiled as three toddlers swam by, stopping suddenly to stare at the newcomer.
“Lady is pretty,” the oldest one thought into her head.
Delphine inclined her head and thought back, “Thank you child.”
She heard the children giggle in her head as they swam off to continue their adventures.
Delphine continued to follow the mermaid until they reached another large cavern, the home of the Norse king of the merfolk.
Delphine swam in place and bowed her head to the leader. “I am Delphine, Princess of the Sirens of the isle. It is an honor to meet you.”
She left her head bowed in deference until she heard a deep voice in her mind. “Raise your head, Princess Delphine.”
She did so and took in the merman in front of her. He had the torso of a fit man with the large broad shoulders and long white flowing hair of a Viking warrior. He held in his right hand the trident of his station, and his icy blue eyes took her in, from the top of her head to the bottom of her fins.
“What brings you to our waters, Siren of the isle,” he asked.
“The princess of Kvenland is to be married today and she is a good friend of mine. She and her fiancé came to my rescue along with a shifter, saving me from a man who wanted revenge on my people.”
“Did you have your revenge on this man,” he asked, quirking one eyebrow.
“He met his end by his own hand, but there are still those who helped him with his nefarious plan, and I seek revenge on them,” Delphine said, her tone hardening.
“I admire your determination, Siren of the isle. My people are warriors, and I recognize the cold revenge in your heart. If you need anything of the Norse merfolk, we will be glad to help you to mete out justice for your people.”
Delphine nodded once more. “I must return to the surface as the time for the ceremony draws near.”
“You are welcome to swim in our waters whenever the need arises.” He nodded at her once more in dismissal. Delphine turned and swam hard for the surface. She had no sense of time in the water and the sun shining down was much brighter than it had been when she’d entered. She needed to return soon.
Delphine slipped onto the stone step and willed the change to hurry, the fiery pain slitting her tail into legs.
When the transformation was complete, she slipped into her clothes, shoved her feet into her boots, and wrapped her fur cloak tight then hurried up the steps and back into the castle.
Chapter 2
“Delphine,” Flynn called out. He had been knocking at her door for several minutes with no response. He had been nominated to escort her to Ovidia’s suite of rooms, where the ladies were dressing for the wedding. Ovidia had followed in Teagan’s footsteps, combining some of the traditions of the modern wedding ceremony with the ancient handfasting of the Norse people. That morning he had learned she would wear a modern wedding dress. She’d also elected to have attendants, but the ceremony would be the traditional Norse ceremony. He wasn’t sure why they had thought it necessary to tell him these details. He was one of Erik’s groomsmen, but he just needed to be told who to escort down the aisle and where he needed to stand.
Where could she be? Could she have possibly already started making her way to Ovidia’s suite? No, that was not possible; he would have seen her.
“Delphine, I’m coming in,” he said in a loud voice before he pushed the door open. He looked around the chamber. Delphine’s bridesmaid dress was laid out over a chair, but there was no sign of her. He walked across the room to the adjoining bathroom. It appeared she had gathered up things for the wedding, but she was nowhere to be found. He paused and heard the faint sound of singing.
Delphine could be seen through the wavy glass of the shower, her song of joy mesmerizing him. Flynn shook his head and yelled, “Delphine!”
The singing immediately stopped.
“Flynn, what are you doing in here,” she demanded.
“Ovidia sent me to fetch you. It’s time to start preparing for the ceremony. I knocked several times, and when you didn’t answer, I let myself in. I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said, a wry grin on his face.
“It’s fine. I took a dip in the cove and met the Norse mermaids. The water was frigid so I jumped in the shower to warm up.”
Flynn nodded. “I’ll wait for you in the hall. Just come out when you’re ready.”
Delphine waited until she heard the door to her bedroom close then turned off the water and quickly toweled off. She slipped on her warm robe and hurried into her room to slip on jeans and a soft sweater. She bundled up her long wet hair in a messy bun, draped her dress over her arm, grabbed a small bag, and met Flynn in the hallway.
He was so very handsome in his true form. They had first met when she had been captured by a man bent on destroying supernaturals, and Flynn had been in the guise of the pirate Blackbeard. Flynn was a shifter who could turn himself into almost anything, but she preferred his natural form. He was a handsome man, tall and rugged with hair the color of driftwood and green eyes with specks of amber floating in them like little stars. She had enjoyed watching the play of muscles in his Blackbeard form as he performed tasks on the ship after her rescue, and she had been pleasantly surprised to find that his physique was not an affectation of Blackbeard but all his own.
“Ready,” he asked as she slipped out the door. She smiled her consent and they walked in companionable silence down the hall to the suite of rooms Ovidia commanded while at home.
Reaching the door, Delphine turned to thank Flynn for fetching her and found him standing closer than she’d expected.
“Thanks for escorting me.” She suddenly felt shy.
“You are most welcome, my lady.” He gave her a courtly bow with a wink that made her giggle like a much younger girl. As she turned to go into the room, he stopped her. “Delphine.” His voice took on a husky note.
“Yes.”
“Someday I wish to see you in your Siren form,” he said before quickly walking away.
Delphine just stood gawking after him.
“Fish girl! I can hear you out there. Quit gawking at Flynn and get your fins in here!” Ovidia shouted from the other side of the door.
Delphine pushed open the door, hands on hips, and stopped to give Ovidia a playful glare as she entered the land of female splendor.
The air was rich with the smell of heather and wolfsbane. The delicate yet hardy flowers were set about the rooms in little vases, their scent mixing with candy-coated aromas of the paints and powders women favored.
Ovidia sat like a queen in a low-back chair as another tall blonde woman—her sister, Eydis—patiently curled the massive straight blonde hair that flowed down Ovidia’s back. Her makeup was light allowing her natural beau
ty shine through. Ovidia glowed with happiness as she laughed with her sister, mother, Teagan, and Seraphim, Teagan’s mother. The scene gave Delphine a tug. She hoped one day she would be surrounded by her mother, sisters, and friends old and new when she pledged herself to her mate. She hadn’t found him yet, but she was still young by Siren standards.
Flynn flitted through her mind briefly but she batted the thought away. This day was all about Ovidia.
“Vid, you are stunning.” Teagan’s voice was suffused with tears she would not let fall. After all, she had just gotten her makeup done—no need to ruin it.
Delphine stood next to Teagan, and she had to agree—Ovidia looked fantastic. It was as if the best parts of both sides of her nature were on display. Her hair had been styled loosely, a riot of curls tumbling down her back, and her tiara of large round sapphires surrounded by small diamonds twinkled amid her flowing locks. Her dress was a sophisticated snow white fit-and-flare with lace appliques and bead detailing that winked in the light. Her sword, her mark as a Valkyrie, once again morphed as it had at Teagan’s wedding. A bridal bouquet comprising a mix of heather, wolfsbane, and cream roses appeared at the base of her shimmering crystal sword in a spectacular display. She looked like a warrior queen, stunning and powerful. Delphine felt tears well up in her eyes.
Ovidia gave her a stern look. “Don’t even think about it, fish girl. I can’t take two of you sobbing. I want to look perfect walking down the aisle.” She said it with just enough arrogance in her voice to bring a smile to Delphine’s face.
“You are going to render Erik speechless,” Delphine said at the same time, and Teagan nodded in agreement.
“That’s the plan.” Ovidia winked at them, a feral smile sliding across her face.
The sound of feminine voices sprinkled with laughter sounded off the stone walls as the women walked down a series of long hallways, the clacking of their shoes and the swishing of their royal blue dresses loud in the cold silent hallways.
Delphine found herself hopelessly lost after following the twists and turns that led them deeper into the castle, and she was glad to be with the others.
Finally they stopped outside a plain wooden double door. The two halves were closed and men in black evening wear stood on either side.
“Daughter.” Ovidia’s father, Hakon, King of Kvenland, stood between the two men, looking impassive as always.
Ovidia’s smile disappeared, a solemn look replacing it as she stood taller. Despite her wedding finery, the warrior that lived inside her shone out of her eyes, and the sword in her hand glowed brightly.
“Are you ready to make this commitment? You realize that once you do, only death will be able to separate you, no matter what comes?”
Delphine frowned. Ovidia had explained the very severe Norse customs. Once married, a couple could not separate except upon the death of one or the other. Delphine had thought it could lead to some very unhappy marriages, possibly even untimely deaths.
“Yes, Father, I am aware, and I am ready to make this commitment,” Ovidia replied in a clear, even tone.
A small smile curved Hakon’s face. “I hope he will make you happy.”
In a rare show of affection, Ovidia grasped her father’s hand and smiled. “He will, Father” Another of her famous feral smiles slid across her lips. “If not, I will make him pay.”
Hakon patted Ovidia’s hand, “I am sure you will. I am very proud of the fierce warrior you have become, my daughter.”
Ovidia placed her arm through the crook of her father’s as they turned toward the tall wooden doors. Delphine, Teagan, and Eydis lined up in front of them. Hakon nodded to the two men then they reached out and opened the doors. A large cathedral was revealed, and the sheer size of it made Delphine gasp.
The chapel was cavernous with gilded soaring ceilings that seemed to never end. Polished wooden benches glowing with a warm, rich patina lined either side of the wide aisle. Delphine took it all in as she walked forward slowly. The walls were punctuated with gleaming stained glass windows depicting different gods and demigods of the Norse pantheon, all fighting, of course. The room was full to bursting with a mix of the terse Norse people, along with people she recognized from the institute. It was quite the eclectic gathering.
At the front of the chapel, Erik stood tall and straight, his face blank as he watched Delphine walk up the center aisle of the cavernous room. Next to him stood Bran, Flynn, and Armand, all looking devastatingly handsome in their black tuxes. Flynn gave her a small wink as she passed him to stand on her side of a commanding older gentleman at the head of the chapel. The man looked over at her and she felt a strange feeling pass through her body, as if his ice blue eyes looked into her very soul. He gave her a small nod along with a brief smile. She felt as if she had been judged and found to be adequate.
As Ovidia’s sister, Eydis, started her walk down the aisle, Delphine glanced behind them at a massive piece of stained glass that stretched across nearly the entire front of the chapel. It depicted a scene of a giant of a man with his white hair flowing behind him and a massive silver sword lifted high above his head as if preparing to strike down the enemies at his feet at any moment.
Delphine frowned. He looked familiar; she had seen him somewhere. She looked again at the gentleman standing at front of the room and her eyes widened as her mouth fell slightly ajar. He was the warrior depicted in the stained glass. Her mind worked furiously to place his name as Eydis and Teagan joined her.
Ovidia and her father stepped into the chapel doorway and a murmur went up from the assembled crowd as they stood for the ethereal bride. Delphine watched as Ovidia and Hakon slowly strolled between the rows. She watched Erik for any sign of pleasure or recognition but his face remained impassive, as did Ovidia’s, though she thought she detected a gleam in his eye as his bride walked closer.
As they reached the front of the room, Ovidia and Hakon sank to their knees in front of the older gentleman. They bowed their heads, showing the white-haired giant extreme deference.
“Rise, my children.” The man’s voice boomed and echoed throughout the chapel.
Ovidia and her father stood, keeping their heads bowed respectfully.
The identity of the white-haired giant dawned on Delphine at that moment: Odin the god of the Norse people. She was attending a wedding officiated by a Norse god. She smiled to herself, thinking her life at the institute would certainly never be dull.
“Ovidia, my child, you may raise your eyes and look upon my countenance.” The booming voice echoed throughout the chapel. Ovidia lifted her violet eyes and stared into the ice blue of Odin’s. “I have bestowed upon you extra gifts. Those gifts have at times been a burden, but you have carried them well and without complaint, as is expected of a child of Odin. You have made me proud in your endeavors, showing the spirit of a true berserker warrior. It is my honor to bind you to another of my honored warriors.”
Ovidia bowed low and whispered, “Thank you my lord and creator,” in the Norse language, then Erik moved to stand next to Ovidia, his head bowed.
“Erik Rabec, you have traveled a long road to the fate that stands before you. I have thrown test after test at you and you have succeeded masterfully. I needed to be sure you were worthy of the creature I created, a strong Norse woman touched by myself as a child and given extra gifts and burdens. She was in need of a strong mate, and you have proven yourself worthy to spend your life with my special child.”
“Thank you my lord and creator,” Erik whispered in the language of the Norse people.
From his belt, Odin produced a small knife that glowed with blue fire. He reached for Ovidia’s hand and cut a line across her palm. Blood welled from the cut, but she did not flinch or show any emotion, not reacting to the pain at all. Odin repeated the gesture with Erik then placed their palms together, allowing their blood to mix. He pulled out a cerulean blue length of satin then wrapped it around their clasped hands, and a bright blue glow began to emanate from the pl
ace where their hands were bound together.
“What Odin has placed together may no man tear asunder. I now decree that Erik Rabec and Ovidia Valkyrie be bound in this life. May they meet in Valhalla to fight side by side for eternity.” Odin smiled down on the now married couple.
“All hail Odin,” the crowd intoned.
He gave one more piercing look to Ovidia and Erik. The larger-than-life gentleman began to slowly fade away, and Delphine watched in fascination. She jumped as she heard a strong booming voice inside her own mind.
“You are not of my people, though there are those of your kind who do reside in my realm. You would do well to meet them in their world before returning to yours. They have powers you will need when the time is right. You are bound to the water by your need to change. Warriors need not have such weaknesses, as enemies will exploit them. I give you two gifts, daughter of the sea: the gift of choice and the gift of healing. Use them well. You have the heart of a warrior, lady of the sea—remember that when the time is right.” The voice slowly faded away and as it did, Delphine felt a small prick of pain on her left wrist.
She looked down, thinking a pearl pin from her bouquet had stuck her. Where the pain had been, a small tattoo appeared on her creamy skin: an intricately drawn amethyst mermaid with her teeth bared and a trident in her hand, raised to the heavens. Delphine smiled. It was a gift from a god, and he had blessed her.
She pulled herself from her own thoughts to see a much more relaxed Ovidia and Erik complete the human wedding ceremony they had planned, this part officiated by Armand. She watched as Erik slid a sapphire and diamond engagement ring with two sapphire eternity bands onto Ovidia’s finger. She returned the favor with a wide platinum band carved with intricate designs of interlaced swords and vines. Sapphires and diamonds to match Ovidia’s ring sparkled in the hilts of the swords.
The two had decided to forgo the traditional kiss in order not to offend the other Norse people who were not accepting of public displays of affection. Erik swung her up in his arms and carried her down the aisle in accordance with Nordic tradition to the raucous roar of approval of all the guests, Nordic and institute alike.