My biggest regret is not telling them sooner.
Sloshing sounds rush toward me, and water sprinkles my face. I’m too weak to look up, though, my body ready for the final embrace.
“Thelsa!” Neo screams my name, but it sounds distant. “Thelsa, wake up.”
“Don’t leave us. You can’t leave us now.” Harun’s familiar hands lift me to cradle me against his strong chest one last time.
“Please, please fight.” Kaveth, the quietest of all of them with his feelings, pleads to me.
I want to respond, but my mouth feels glued shut, unable to form any words. My mind shuts down.
The last words I hear are each of them telling me they love me.
With my mind at peace, I finally rest.
10
“Thelsa.” A damp cloth touches my lips. “You need to drink something, my love. Please, just a little.”
Groggy, I part my lips, and cold drops of water hit my tongue.
“That’s it, keep drinking.” The voice drifts away. “Kaveth, get me another cloth, she’s coming around.”
My throat works convulsively, parched in a way I’ve never experienced before. When the water dries up, a plaintive whimper escapes my lips, only to be followed by a sigh of relief when a new cloth takes its place.
Light fingers stroke my neck. “Can you open your eyes, Thelsa?”
The voice sounds deadened to my ears, but I recognize it as Neo. I struggle to crack open my eyelids, then flinch away from the light.
“Dim the lantern,” Neo commands.
My fingers flex on soft material, and a large, warm hand covers mine with a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, we have you.”
I crack my eyes again and make out Neo’s hazy figure holding the cloth to my lips. When I shift my head, Harun sits on my other side, his fingers linked with mine. I blink to clear the fog from my eyes, but everything remains dim, almost washed out. Kaveth moves to stand over Neo’s shoulder, his usually vibrant hair dull in the lantern light.
Uneasy, I lift a trembling hand to push the wet cloth aside. “Where—” My voice cracks, and I try again, “Where am I?”
Harun’s gives my hand another squeeze. “You’re in Neo’s house. Safe.”
“No.” I shake my head and attempt to sit up. “The sea. I need to return—”
“Easy there. You’re okay.” Harun’s gentle hands help support my shoulders, while Neo pushes a pillow behind my back.
None of them will meet my eyes, now.
A heavy quilt covers my lap, and when I glance down, I discover an unfamiliar nightgown. Far less fine than my usual dress. Panic rips through me, the air freezing in my lungs. Where is my nereid dress?
Wild-eyed, I glance around the all too human room, which shows signs I’ve been here for longer than a few hours. A basket of linens sits off to one side, ready to be used, and a book rests face down on the nightstand, its pages spread open to hold the reader’s place. I drag in a shuddering breath and realize the sourness of sweat comes from my own body. Nereids don’t sweat.
All at once, I remember the fire, the Great Fountain, and dying.
I died for the men I love.
At least, my immortal side did. I lift a hand to my hair and pull forward the black locks. When I hold them to my face, hints of inky blue catch the lantern light, the only proof left of my time as a nereid.
Neo’s whisper breaks the silence. “We tried to take you back to the sea.”
“We didn’t mean for this—” Kaveth’s voice breaks, and he clears his throat. “We didn’t want you to sacrifice so much for us.”
My chest tightens at the despair on their faces, and I reach out blindly for Neo’s or Kaveth’s hands, finding Neo’s. Fear sends tremors through my body, but I can’t let them think this is their fault. That my immortality was ripped from me when I planned to give it up for them regardless.
“This is not how I would have chosen to come to you.” I lick my dry lips and push aside the shock of their chapped roughness against my tongue. “But I did hope that we would be exchanging vows of love soon. Vows of marriage.”
Surprise widens their eyes, and I release Neo’s and Harun’s hands, suddenly unsure.
I reach for my wrist, for the ribbon with the three stones. “Is that not what this meant? Did you not wish to marry?”
Kaveth shoves Neo aside and dives forward to catch my hand, lifting it to his lips. “It is exactly what that meant, but we never would have asked you to give up your immortality. We would have built a house by the sea to be near you even when you had to return to the water’s embrace.”
A laugh catches in my throat. “And you would have been satisfied with that?”
The three nod in unison.
“But what of family?” I look at each of them in turn. “What about babies?”
Even in the dim light, Neo’s blush shines bright. “We could have adopted, if you wanted children.”
My heart swells with pride and love for these three men who put so much thought and consideration into what a future with me as a nereid would be like. That they were willing to sacrifice so much for me makes the loss of my immortality easier to bear.
Then my gaze returns to the bracelet they gave me, and I remember the belts I planned to gift to them. Did they get caught in the fire? As a mortal, I’ll never be able to return to the place at the bottom of the sea floor where I found that beautiful coral.
“I meant to return your gifts with one of my own.” My hand trembles in Kaveth’s. “I’ll have to find something new to give you now.”
“Do you mean the belts?” Neo leaps to his feet and runs from the room, then returns with the three woven belts held in his hand. “We found these while we were cleaning up the mess left from the fire. We thought they might have been yours.”
“Yes.” Elated, I free myself from Kaveth to take the belts, running my fingers over the coral disks. “Among the nereids, it’s custom to adorn ourselves with beautiful coral combs. Most like the red ones, as it stands out the brightest, but…”
“These look like the sea.” Harun’s fingers trace over the pebbled edges of one.
Loss catches in my throat. “Yes.”
“It’s fitting, that you wear something of the mountains, and we wear something of the sea.” Kaveth lifts one and circles it around his waist, smiling at the loop and hook I fashioned. “These are cleverly made. We’ll wear them with pride.”
The other two claim theirs and soon coral belts adorn all of their waists. For some reason, the act holds an unexpected level of intimacy, and blood creeps into my cheeks.
Still smiling, they settle around me on the bed, and Kaveth reclaims my hand. “Thank you for the thought you put into the gift.”
Harun caresses his. “It’s better than any wedding ring.”
When Neo and Kaveth nod in agreement, my lips part with surprise. “Are we married then? So fast?”
Kaveth’s thumb rubs over my knuckles. “We can marry formally once you’re feeling better. You’ve been asleep for almost a week. When you’re up for it, we can have a beach wedding, so your sisters can attend.”
My gaze drops to my lap. “I don’t know if they’ll care.”
“A few of them have asked about you.” When my focus shifts to him, his brow furrows in thought. “Iaera and Ligea?”
“They did?” Happiness lightens my heart, glad to know at least some of my sisters noticed my passing from the underwater palace.
“Yes.” Harun rubs the back of his neck. “And Charybdis threatened to drown us if we hurt you.”
I lift a hand to hide my grin at that, then my focus drops to the narrow bed I rest on, obviously meant for only one person. “Where will we live?”
Kaveth shares a glance with the other two. “We can still build that home close to the sea, if you’d like.”
Harun grins. “With room enough for all those babies.”
“I’d like that.” I shift my legs and marvel at how the blanket caresses my ski
n. I’ve never needed a blanket or warmer clothes before. So many new experiences await me. Await us. “I’d very much like children. Three at least.”
Kaveth’s hand tightens on mine before he presses his lips to my knuckles. “As many as you like.”
Harun lifts my other hand. “A dozen even.”
My laugh finally escapes, and I peer up at him. “A dozen?”
A blinding smile lights his face. “We’re young.”
Neo leans around Kaveth to place his hand on my leg. “We have an entire lifetime to build together.”
Epilogue
When we marry, a few of my sisters attend, though Cyanea stays away. Iaera pulls me aside after the ceremony to slip me my small treasure chest, which I’d thought lost to me for good. It now sits on the fireplace mantel in our new home, which resides at the edges of the dunes. At night, with the windows open, the crash of waves on the sand reach us easily, but the lure to return recedes as time passes.
Kaveth and I work together to complete the repairs on the water wagon, and I demand he teach me how to drive it so I can help out with the watchmen. In only a matter of weeks, it’s out for repair again, but by then, the town has a backup for emergencies.
We have our first child before the next summer festival, a fire-haired girl who stares at the world with sea-colored eyes. The entire town celebrates, and when we venture down to the water’s edge with her, my sisters’ song floats up from the waves.
Little Kathia claps and giggles with far too much awareness for a three-month-old, and the waves surge higher on the beach, leaving seashells in its wake to welcome her.
Kaveth stares down at the treasures. “You’re sure none of your gifts will pass to her?”
I snuggle into his side, our baby cradled in my arms. “I’ve never known a nereid who bore a child after becoming mortal. All I know is that my gifts have left me.”
Neo crouches and collects the shells into his palm. “We’ll add these to the treasure chest, for when she’s older.”
Harun turns to stare back at the town. “Perhaps we should venture to the mountains again and find some more topaz for our little princess.”
I turn to follow his gaze to where the gentle slopes of hills turn into mountains. In all of my long life, I never considered it a possibility to venture so far inland. “Yes, I think we should.”
Kathia reaches up and tugs a lock of my black hair, as if in silent agreement.
As my attention turns down to gaze at her porcelain skin and rosy cheeks, my heart swells with pride. Our child, born of land and sea, born of sacrifice and love. For a moment, the whisper of the sea fills my ears, and Kathia giggles with delight.
Magic still fills the world, and whatever I lost, I gained so much more return.
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About the Authors
LA Kirk
LA Kirk is a writer and editor. When not hard at work in front of her computer, her time is spent with her husband and two children, watching them play soccer, or chasing after the family puppy.
LA loves working with other authors to help build their stories and brands.
Read More from LA Kirk
www.LAKirk.com
Lyn Forester
Lyn Forester graduated with a Bachelor in English and an Associates in Graphic Design. She worked in the graphic design industry for ten years before deciding to pursue her other life long dream of becoming a writer. She grew up reading mostly fantasy books, though later in life found a love of urban fantasy and science fiction. She currently works from her home in Washington State where she squeezes in writing time around a busy schedule. When not working, she can be found experimenting with new recipes, reading, or playing video games and the occasional board game.
Read More from Lyn Forester
www.LynForester.com
My Soul To Keep
Jackie May
My Soul To Keep
Imagine accidentally selling your soul and ending up in the after life with three men all determined to cherish you for eternity.
All Kinsey wants is a steady relationship with a decent man who will love her and treat her right. It seems an impossible goal. After getting dumped via a Post-it note, she’s fed up with her love life and ready to swear off men forever. While drowning in her sorrows at the local bar, Kinsey accidentally sells her soul for a forever relationship and ends up in the Netherworld with the three lords of the afterlife.
1
I wish I were a lesbian. Seriously. If I knew how to make myself swing that way, I would so be batting for my own team by now. Men suck. Especially the men I know. Especially the ones I date. My one talent in life seems to be falling for the biggest, douchiest losers the world has to offer. “And yet, Kinsey,” I lecture myself, “you keep dating them.”
I stare at the crumpled Post-it note I stuck to the counter of the bar. It’s two words long. I’m sorry. That’s it. No explanation, just I’m sorry. “Sorry, my ass.”
I kick back my fourth shot of vodka. I’m well on my way to being truly smashed for only the second time in my life, but I don’t care. That damn yellow paper is taunting me. I’m sorry. “I’m officially swearing off men forever.”
“Well, now, that would be a shame,” a smooth, baritone voice says. “A beautiful woman like yourself?”
I roll my eyes at the man who has just taken the stool beside mine at the bar. Of course he’s one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen. Because the universe hasn’t mocked me enough today. Seriously, the man is gorgeous. Thick brunet hair, short on the sides, a little longer on the top and styled to perfection. Golden hazel eyes fanned with thick, dark lashes. Nice, full lips. Smooth olive skin. Soft features. I can’t tell what nationality he is, but if I had to guess, I’d say Egyptian or something exotic like that.
He smiles at me, and it’s like the sun has just burst out from behind dark clouds. It makes me want to punch him in the face. “You, sir,” I say, and yes, I’m now slurring my words a little, “can go find someone else to hit on. I’m not interested. I know your type.”
The man’s eyes dance with amusement. “And what type is that, exactly?”
I snort. “Confident. Sexy. Flirty.” The man’s smile grows, and he sits up just a little bit straighter. I shake my head at him. “You’re trouble. Lots and lots of trouble.”
The man chuckles and lifts his hand to the bartender. “Two waters, please.”
When the bartender hands over two bottles of water, my new friend opens one and slides it in front of me. He waits for me to take a sip, then says, “What if I’m the good kind of trouble?”
“Buddy, you could be the best kind, and it wouldn’t matter. I’m done with trouble. You know what trouble gets you?” I snatch the Post-it note off the counter and stick it to the tip of his nose. “This.”
The handsome stranger pulls the paper off his face, reads it, and cocks an eyebrow at me. I point to the note and laugh bitterly. “He was just like you. Handsome, charming… He swept me off my feet within the first five minutes of meeting me. I gave him ten months of my life. Ten months. We’d been living together for six of those months. And what do I have to show for it? A damn Post-it note.”
The man’s eyebrows climb his forehead. He holds up the crumbled paper and blinks at it as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “This is how he broke up with you?”
“Yup.” I take a huge swig of my water, wishing it were another shot of alcohol. “He kissed me good-bye before work this morning, said I love you, and then packed up his shit and left. I came home to a half-empty apartment and that little gem”—I point to the sticky note still in the man’s hand—“stuck to the refrigerator.”
The man winces. He balls up the note and drops it on the bar between us. “Ouch.”
I snort. “Ouch is right.” Downing the rest of my water, I turn to fully face the man on the stool beside me. “I thought he was the one, you know? He seemed perfect. I should have known…”
>
“Why is that?”
I laugh bitterly. “I haven’t had the best track record with men. I’ve got a list of exes a mile long. All of them cocky, self-centered bastards. You’d think I’d learn my lesson. I thought I finally had a winner with Justin. I thought I’d finally found a decent man.”
“I’m sure you’ll find one eventually.”
I turn around on my stool to look around the bar. Leaning my elbows back on the counter, I do a sweep of the room and sigh. “I’m almost thirty. I’m ready to settle down, grow some roots, and start building a family, but all I ever seem to find is douche bags.” I shake my head, pushing away the dream that seems so unattainable. “I think right now I’d sell my soul for the chance to be in a real relationship with a decent man who would treat me well and love me. The forever kind of relationship, you know?”
The man beside me doesn’t respond, so I slide my gaze back to him. He’s watching me with the most intense expression I’ve ever seen. “Do you really mean that?” he asks. “Would you really trade your soul for a forever relationship?”
This guy is oddly serious, considering we’re talking about selling my soul to the devil. I laugh once and shrug. “If it keeps me from ever getting another Post-it note breakup? Why not?”
“Are you willing to shake on it?” The man holds a hand out to me. His face is still friendly, but somehow guarded now, too.
“Shake on what?”
He leans in close, and I get a whiff of a subtle, sweet-smelling cologne that makes me shiver. “I could give you what you want,” he says in a low voice. He touches me for the first time, running a single fingertip down my arm, raising goose bumps all over my skin. “Your soul, in exchange for a relationship with a man who would cherish you for eternity.”
Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection Page 148