by Kelly Risser
****
That night, when the children were in their beds, Sera found the nerve to ask Stephen about his feelings. They were sitting near a blazing fire, Stephen reading the paper, and Sera knitting a blanket. Her mother taught her to knit, and she found that when her fingers were busy, her mind could relax.
She put her needles to the side and took a deep breath. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Stephen peered at her over the top of the paper. “You may always ask me anything.”
“Do you love me?” she asked, watching his expression closely.
His eyes clouded, and he frowned slightly. “You are my mate.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you love me.”
“We are bonded for life. You are the mother of my children. Love is a silly human emotion. What does it have to do with us?”
“Everything!” she cried. How did he not understand? Was he so cold that he didn’t feel? Crossing the room, she knelt before him and placed her hand on his knee. Boldly, she looked into his eyes and asked, “Have you ever been in love?”
A nerve ticked in his cheek. His eyes drilled into hers before he sighed and looked away. “Why are you asking me this, Sera? Does it have to do with that human you found?”
She gasped and fell back, knocking his newspaper to the floor in the process. “You know? How do you know?” Her face burned with embarrassment and anger. There was only one way he knew. Despite her belief that he finally let her go on her morning swims alone, he had guards spying on her all this time. “You’ve had me followed.”
He didn’t even deny it. “For your safety, my dear. I lost my parents when I was ten. Do you think I would risk your life so foolishly?”
Their union was not built on love, and apparently, it lacked trust as well. “You could’ve told me,” Sera muttered and stood, straightening her skirt, not meeting his eyes. She returned to her chair and her knitting. If she didn’t busy her fingers with her craft, she might just slap the infuriating jerk.
“Tell me about this human. What lies has he spun?”
“He has not lied,” she said. “Until a few days ago, he didn’t even have his memories. But you must know that. Which of your men has been trailing me?”
Stephen waved her question away. “Does it really matter, Sera? Why have you taken an interest in this human? You know they are dangerous.”
“He’s not dangerous.” She knit faster and bit her lip. This conversation had gone in a direction she wasn’t prepared for, and her mind swam. Stephen knew about Boyd. How much did he know? Did he know she had kissed him? Did he know what they talked about?
“Their lives are short and insignificant.” His voice was filled with scorn. “There is nothing there for you. You cannot be with a human. You will lose your powers, and you’ll certainly lose your family.”
“Is that a threat?” she asked, keenly aware of what he didn’t say. He didn’t tell her he loved her. He didn’t say he would lose her or she would lose him. Perhaps they’d already lost each other years ago.
“It’s the truth,” Stephen said. Now his voice was level and commanding. “Choose what you will, Sera. You are an adult. I cannot and will not stop you, but over my dead body will you take our children. It is not your choice to take away their powers.”
His face flushed in his rage, but when he finished speaking, all emotion disappeared as though he wore a mask. “Excuse me,” he said and stood. “I need some fresh air.”
He left the room without another word. When the door clicked closed, Sera lost it. Her body was wracked with sobs. What was she doing? She hadn’t made any decisions, but it felt like they were being made for her. On one hand, she understood what Stephen said. She would never, could never, take away her children’s powers. It was their birthright to be Selkies. If they chose to give it up one day, then that was their choice. Not hers. Never hers.
On the other hand, his words were so cold. He clearly surmised she had growing feelings for Boyd, but he wouldn’t fight for her. The message was clear; she could go whenever she wanted as long as she went alone.
Rain pounded on the stone walls of the castle, drilling into Sera’s already pained head. She’d gotten very little sleep the night before, and Stephen never came to bed. She didn’t know where he chose to sleep, but there were numerous empty guest rooms in the castle. Her heart ached, and she wondered if his did, too. If he felt betrayed by her interest in Boyd, he didn’t show it. The only emotions he showed were a concern for their children and indignation that she would question his decision making.
After dressing, she went to the living room first and picked up Stephen’s discarded newspaper. Out of curiosity, she checked the date. It was July 2, 1946. Boyd had missed his birthday after all.
Placing the paper in the knapsack, she added a clean outfit—Boyd was slightly taller than Stephen, but otherwise, they were close to the same size—a razor, comb, scissors, and soap. Then she went to the kitchen to add the food and water. There was little left of the treats from the other day, but she found some of the small cake bites that looked like packages. Humans celebrated birthdays with cake. Boyd would appreciate that, she thought. With a start, she remembered they also gave gifts. She didn’t have much besides her sea glass collection and several of her completed knitting projects. One of the blankets was various shades of blue like the ocean. She also picked one of her favorite pieces of sea glass and placed it all in the now-bulging bag, hoping he would enjoy her surprises.
This time, she transported right from the castle. With any luck, the guards weren’t looking for her yet. Maybe Stephen told them to stay away. Perhaps he was done protecting her, not that she needed his protection.
She landed in the pouring rain, and within seconds, her hair and shirt were drenched. With a slight yelp, she ran as quickly as she could to the cave and ducked in. Boyd, looking perfectly dry and comfortable, laughed in amusement.
“I’m glad you find my discomfort funny,” she grumbled, feeling cranky from her talk with Stephen the night before. It wasn’t fair to take it out on Boyd. Then again, he was the main reason they fought in the first place.
“I’m sorry.” He patted the spot next to him. “Come have a seat.”
She sat next to him, feeling the heat that came off his body. He was certainly warm, even if she wasn’t. You big dummy, a little voice in her head whispered. You’re a Selkie. Dry yourself off and change. With a snort of frustration, she ran her hands through her hair, drying them with her magic. She envisioned her wet T-shirt becoming a long-sleeve knit top.
Boyd watched her with interest. “Wow. That’s really cool. You didn’t even show any skin.” He winked, and she blushed. “Not that I would have minded.”
She opened the bag and pulled out the paper, handing it to him. “Here. This is yesterday’s.” He took the paper and glanced at it eagerly. As he did, she added, “Today is July third, so you did miss your birthday.”
“That’s okay,” he said absentmindedly, reading the newspaper header out loud, “The Los Angeles Tribune.” His eyes were transfixed on the page as he skimmed through the stories and flipped through the pages. “I never read this one, you see. I’m from San Francisco.”
He looked up with widened eyes, and a smile broke across his face. Whooping with excitement, he leaned over and kissed Sera enthusiastically. “I’m from San Francisco. I remembered!”
Her heart raced from his quick kiss, even though she knew he was no longer thinking about it. His eyes were distant. She watched as he searched his mind, filling those missing puzzle pieces with the new information.
Sera had never been to San Francisco. She really knew nothing about it. What she did know was that she could take him home now. He was probably ready to go. After all, who wanted to stay on a small, deserted island any longer than they had to?
“Thank you,” he said finally. “For bringing me this gift. It’s wonderful to know I have a home.”
; “You’re welcome.” She tried to smile but it faltered. Keep it together, she scolded herself, reaching into the bag to pull out his present. “I do have a real gift for you, though.”
“For me?” His brows rose. “Why?”
“For your birthday, silly.” She watched as he opened the afghan, running his hand along the knitting.
“This is beautiful,” he said. His green eyes drilled into hers. “Did you make it?”
She nodded and held out her hand. “I have another gift for you.” Uncurling her fingers, she revealed the large piece of sea glass in a deep green. “The color reminds me of your eyes,” she blurted, and her face flamed. What a stupid thing to say.
“Thank you,” he said softly, taking the smooth glass from her hand, and her skin tingled from his touch. “You didn’t have to do this. You’ve done so much already.”
“I wanted to,” she said. “I have treats, too.”
She pulled out the little cakes and offered them to him. He selected one, but instead of placing it in his own mouth, he held it to her lips. “Go ahead. Take a bite.”
Nibbling on the corner, she took a small bite and licked her lips. The cake was chocolate raspberry, and even though it was a few days old, it was still delicious. He popped the rest of it in his mouth.
“Do you want another?” she asked.
“Not now, thank you.”
How many times had he thanked her already? He was being overly polite. Although she sat right next to him, he maintained a careful distance, which was unlike his usual behavior. Of course, the last time she saw him, they discussed her children. That probably had something—or everything—to do with it.
In their silence, she listened to the rain. It hadn’t let up since she woke this morning. Coming down in solid sheets, it beat against the ground angrily, reminding her of Stephen’s words from the night before. Unable to help it, her eyes filled with tears and overflowed. Next to her, Boyd made a soft noise and wiped the wetness off her cheek with the back of his hand. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Was it something I said?”
“It’s not you,” she managed to choke out before burying her face in her arms. As she leaned forward, curled over her bent knees, Boyd rubbed her back and made soothing noises. When she didn’t calm, he pulled her gently toward him until she collapsed against his side, her face buried in his shirt.
“Care to talk about it?” he asked a few minutes later, handing her an old shirt to dry her eyes.
The shirt smelled like Boyd—salt, sweat, and man. It comforted her the same way that he did. “I’m not happy,” she said finally.
“Is it something I did?” he asked.
She managed to laugh, although her throat felt closed from all the tears she shed. “Why do you keep thinking it’s you? No, I had an argument with my mate yesterday.”
“Did you tell him about me?” Boyd didn’t sound upset or worried.
“He already knew about you,” she said and straightened. It was easier to think when she wasn’t touching him and listening to his steady heartbeat. “The argument had to do with me.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his hands on his pants and busied himself poking through the knapsack. Taking a drink of water, he looked straight ahead and asked, “Would it be easier if you took me home? Now that I know where I live—”
She wasn’t expecting him to say that. He wanted to leave? Then again, who could blame him? This might be a decent spot to rest and heal, but it was no paradise for a healthy adult. It would be boring and lonely. Still, she couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Do you want me to take you home?” He fiddled with the canteen cap, but he didn’t speak. “Boyd?”
His eyes locked on hers. “I can’t very well stay here forever, can I?” His words were neutral, but his face gave him away. Through his raw expression, she saw a wave of emotions and knew he felt as strongly about her as she did about him. He turned away and blew out a breath before adding, “Is it crazy that I don’t want to leave you? I know I own no claim to you, and yet—”
His voice trailed off as he leaned his head against the cave wall and closed his eyes. Sera raised his hand and kissed the back of it, causing his eyes to fly open and stare at her in surprise. She gave him a sad smile. “That’s where you’re wrong. You have already claimed my heart.”
He shook his head vehemently at her words. “You can’t say that. You can’t mean that. You have a family. I won’t wreck your home.”
“Even if it’s a home where I’m not happy?”
He frowned at her words. “What about your children? Don’t they make you happy?”
Pain pierced her heart. He was right. Her children did make her happy, but it was a different kind of happiness. And in a few years, the boys would be grown and independent. Tyrese was still very young, but she adored Stephen. And he would care for her. She felt better about that after seeing them together yesterday. “They do,” she said quietly.
“I’m not trying to drive you away.” He scooted closer and covered their joined hands with his other one, rubbing his thumb over her skin. “But I don’t want you to make a rash decision because of me.”
She glanced up at him through her eyelashes. “Is that what you think this is? A rash decision?”
Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “What happens if you come with me, Sera?” She bit her lip, thinking up a lie. “Answer me honestly,” he added as if he could read her mind.
“If I chose to live with humans, I would eventually become a human. I would lose my magic.”
“You would give all this up? Leave your children with their father?” His questions held no judgement.
“I would give up my magic,” she said. “And, I would have to leave my children. I refuse to make that choice for them.”
“Would you be able to see them again?” he asked.
Her eyes filled with tears again, and she covered her mouth with her hand. In her mind, she saw the twins’ dark, mischievous eyes, and Tyrese’s curls and sweet smile. “No,” she whispered as her heart broke.
“I’m not worth that,” he said and squeezed her hand. “You’re giving up too much.”
“By you saying that, you prove you’re worth it.” She brushed long strands off his forehead so she could see his eyes. Even in the dim light of the cave, their green color was brilliant.
He continued, “Even if we fall in love, over time, you would grow to resent me. I would be the man who took you away from your children.”
“No,” she said. “Never. At any rate, I haven’t made a decision yet.”
He didn’t argue with her again, just continued to move his thumb in a slow circle against her skin. The rain had lessened while they were talking. A quick glance at the cave entrance told her that while it was wet outside, it was no longer drizzling. “Come on. I brought scissors to cut your hair and a razor so you can shave.”
He let go of her hand, ran his fingers through his long, bushy hair, and tugged the scraggly beard. “Not a fan of facial hair?”
“I prefer a clean-shaven face,” she said lightly, taking the razor, comb, and scissors from the bag. They found an area with a flat boulder where he could sit. She combed the knots out and did the best she could to cut his hair. “What did you do in San Francisco?”
“I’m a police officer,” he said.
“Like a guard,” she said. She’d read about the police department in Stephen’s newspapers on occasion.
“Kind of.” She gently pushed on his head, and he bent down so she could cut the back. “We enforce the laws to keep people safe. I was good at my job. Hopefully, I still have it.”
“What did you do for fun?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I had a group of friends. We hung out, mostly went sailing. I remember what happened. The day I ended up in the ocean, we were out in Tom’s sailboat. Everyone had too many drinks. The wind picked up, and as we were trying to tighten the sails, one pulled loose, cracked the back of my head, and knocked me in
the water.”
“Why didn’t your friends pull you out?” Sera asked.
“They were drunk and worried about the storm. By the time they realized I was overboard, they were probably long gone from the spot where I fell in.” He shrugged. “Thank God for a pretty Selkie woman who was out for her morning swim.”
She tapped his shoulder with her comb and laughed. “You are lucky.”
“Don’t I know it!” He turned and grinned at her. She brushed the hair off his shoulders and tried not to notice how well built he was, his muscles firm and smooth under his cotton T-shirt. She paused in her efforts when he covered her hand and caught her eye. “Thank you. I can’t say it enough. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead by now.”
“You’re welcome,” she said in a quiet voice. How much had her life changed in that one decision?
With the haircut done, he used a puddle of rainwater to lather up with soap and another puddle as a mirror. The unbroken, reflective surface worked well. First, he cut most of the length off his face, and then used the razor on the rest. She watched his reflection in fascination. She’d never seen a man shave off such a thick beard. Selkie men, for the most part, preferred to keep clean-shaven faces. When it looked like he was almost done, she passed him a towel over his shoulder.
“Thanks,” he said and ran it over his face. “It feels good to get cleaned up. I almost feel civil again.”
She wasn’t prepared when he turned and smiled at her. He was stunning. The shave revealed a square jawline and made his lips appear fuller than they had before. She realized she had never seen his face bare. When she found him in the ocean, he already had a few days’ growth.
He mistook her stare and reached up to rub his face. “Did I miss a spot?”
“No,” she said. Take your eyes off him, her mind ordered, but she found she couldn’t obey.