Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

  It’s been ten years since Caspian left the sea to make his way in the human world. Better that than lose his soul a little more each day to the princess who considers him nothing more than a feckless friend. But when she comes to him for help, he finds he is still helplessly under her spell.

  This time, he vows, he’ll weave a spell of his own.

  Prologue

  “It is mine now. Everything is mine.”

  The attack came with no warning, no hint of impending danger.

  A burst of blinding white light shot from the gray-scaled fingertips, black claws guiding the spell toward its target.

  Aria dove down, beneath the opening of the coral structure from where she had watched the carnage of Timarra unfold. Her mother, captured, demanded she hide, like a coward. She had to preserve her place as heir, survive to bring her kingdom and people back from this ruthless attack.

  Coral exploded above her, raining debris down through the water faster than she could navigate to avoid it. Sharp bits and pieces knocked into her back and arms. A large chunk smacked her on the back of the head, and sparks erupted in her line of vision. Or maybe that was the residual flash from the spell.

  Whatever it was, it left her vulnerable for a split moment. A split moment and Dima had her in her sights.

  The witch appeared in front of Aria, long black hair coiling and spreading around her face like pet eels. Her black eyes glinted with malice, her smile filled with terrible mischief. The scales on her forehead and cheeks caught the flickering reflection of the moonlight that reached them below the water’s surface.

  “Sweet little princess, what shall I do with you?”

  Aria darted away. Seaweed cinched around her tail and halted her with a sharp tug. The sea witch’s magic sent strands of kelp to restrain her wrists as the creature herself swam slow circles around Aria.

  “You may have outsmarted that octopus and human wizard duo, but me?” The witch laughed, released a ripple of bubbles from her lips. The gills along her neck flexed. The humor ended so suddenly the scales along Aria’s tail and those that painted her arms tingled in warning. Dima snaked around to come in front of Aria again, this time so close Aria leaned away from her. The kelp bindings tugged her back in place.

  “No, no, no.” The witch drew one pointed nail along Aria’s jaw. “I’ve got a use for you. Something that will benefit us both. See? I’m in need of someone who escaped me long ago. Someone with whom we both have a mutual acquaintance. Return him to me, and I’ll set your mother and sisters free. I’ll cease my destruction upon this kingdom.”

  “I’ve bargained with a trickster before. It’s no bargain at all.”

  “One way or another, you will do my bidding, little princess. The future of your family is entirely up to your willingness to agree.”

  To prove her point, she swirled one long-fingered hand, creating a churn of water that flashed with colors and light. Aria got her first glimpse of her family, trapped within a cage of kelp. Sharks circled the cage, snapping at the random arm of greenery that fluttered in the undersea currents.

  “All I have to do is send a single spell and that cage comes down. Those boys are starving, and merpeople are a delicacy they don’t often have the chance to indulge in.” The witch cut a hand through the projection and instantly formed another image. Only this time, it wasn’t a vision. The ringlet glowed with power, throbbing slowly, like it had a heartbeat of its own. “What will it be, princess?”

  The importance of her family’s well-being was ingrained in her. There wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do for them, for her mother, after the near-destruction she had caused only a decade earlier through her own recklessness.

  Slowly, she drew her attention from the golden circle to meet the ashen eyes of the sea witch disguised as a mermaid.

  “What are your terms?”

  A pointy-toothed smile crept over the witch’s scaly lips. “Smart girl.” Dima flicked her fingers and the unbroken golden band separated at an invisible closure. “You have experience in the human world, and that experience will serve you well in fulfilling my terms.”

  One of the kelp bindings forced Aria’s arm out. The more she resisted the motion, the tighter the binding wound around her until her fingers tingled from the lack of circulation. The treacherous weed forced her wrist into the open ring.

  “You have seven days, princess. Seven days to bring him back to me.”

  “Who?”

  Even as she asked the question, dread filled her belly. There weren’t many merpeople she knew who possessed magic. They were as rare as kingdoms in the vast ocean. She knew who it had to be.

  The ring—manacle, she realized—snapped shut. The metal seared her skin as pain ripped through her, agonizing, soul-splitting pain as her bones and skin were forced into a transformation. Scales tore from her flesh. Her tail split down the middle, muscle and tissue shredding apart only to weave and form the very limbs she’d learned to despise.

  The witch watched her forced transformation with an evil gleam in her soulless eyes. Her tongue flicked out to lick thin lips. Was she enjoying Aria’s agony?

  The gills along her neck shrank until Aria found herself choking from lack of water, then choking from too much water when new lungs demanded air. Panic swelled in her gut.

  She stared, wide-eyed and puffy-cheeked, at the witch.

  “The Forgotten Prince. Return him to me by sunset of the seventh day and your family will be free.”

  The witch flicked her hand. The kelp bindings released Aria.

  She clawed at the water with unwebbed fingers, clumsily pulling herself toward the glow of moonlight that rippled over the surface of the sea. Her legs, weak and shaky from both pain and discord, kicked her upward. A deep burn spread through her chest. That burn reached her eyes and crept into her head.

  Air. She needed air. Surface air.

  Just as she thought she would give in to the urge to suck in a breath—watery or not—her head broke the surface. She coughed and gasped and gulped in lungful after lungful of salty air, dimly felt the gentle spray from the waves coat her tongue. Tipping her head back, she spread her arms out, letting the gentle rhythm of the water hold up her aching body as her lungs recovered.

  Dear gods, what had she agreed to?

  Would she truly give one person over to save her family?

  “Caspian.”

  His name left a bittersweet taste on her tongue. Memories tumbled around her mind, memories she’d thought long since shut out of her head and her life. Ever since her heart led her astray and nearly brought war down on her people, she’d learned to leave him where he belonged.

  In the past.

  Well, there was no better time to confront the past than the present.

  Aria twisted in the water and tested the strength in her legs. Weak, yes, but this wasn’t the first time she’d worn something other than her tail. The last time she had legs, she’d mooned over a ruthless human prince. She’d learned to run for her life on these same two legs.

  She caught the glittering lights of the coastline and began the long swim to shore. With any luck, it would be late enough that the docks would be empty.

  If not, she’d have to pray her stealth was good enough to skate around the guards who would just as quickly spear her through the heart as misplaced love had.

  Chapter 1

  Ledgers and more ledgers.

  Night and day.

  Jotting down inventory lists from his ships. Making mental notes of whenever he felt one of the merfolk cross the invisible barrier he had erected around the village. His paranoia had receded over the last decade, but his guard never dropped.

  Two nights ago, that barrier hummed with warning. A creature of the sea had trekked ashore, and now roamed somewhere through the village streets. He hadn’t felt the hum of that creature returning to the water, nor had the tingle along the back of his neck ceased since that night. Sleepless nights.

  A hesitant rap on the door drew hi
s shoulders taut, but he continued to scribble inventory down. “Come in.”

  The heavy wooden door opened on creaking hinges. He sensed the essence of his right-hand man, Brack, inch into the office. “Sir? I don’t mean to disturb you.”

  He didn’t lift his eyes. “If it’s one of the women from the brothel, I’m not interested in entertainment tonight.”

  The silence that ensued finally drew his attention from his writings and to the balding man nervously playing with a tweed cap between his hands. “It’s not one of the women, sir. I-I mean, she’s a woman, but not one of those women.” His wary gaze darted over his shoulder then back. “She said to tell you, ‘A siren’s voice and a generous heart.’ I’m not sure…”

  Caspian straightened in his chair, Brack’s quiet mumble fading on the words he remembered from so long ago. From a time before turbulent emotions and seas.

  “Sir?”

  He blinked and pressed up to his feet. “Send her in.”

  Brack nodded once and disappeared. Caspian tucked his pen in the spine of the ledger and closed the thick book as the door opened once again, this time allowing a cloak-clad figure to enter his dimly lit office. He caught Brack’s shadow as the man closed the door, leaving Caspian alone to face a ghost from the past.

  Plastering on a smooth grin, he leisurely rounded his desk. “Well, well. If it isn’t the last person I’d expect to find walking the docks.” He came to the front of his desk and leaned back against it, crossing his ankles. The woman had yet to lift that silly hood from her face, but the familiar salty scent of the ocean clung to her, threatening to return him to a time…a place… “You still have a bounty on your head in this part of the world. So, what brings you searching my wharf for a ‘mindless fool’?”

  Parting words.

  Only ten years ago, rage and disgust and hurt sharpened those two words into a verbal blade that left a scar on him. One that, gauging by the edge he heard in his own voice, remained all-too raw.

  The woman beneath the oversized cloak finally lifted the fabric from her head. He had prepared himself for the sucker punch he knew seeing her again would deliver.

  It delivered, but not in the way he was expecting.

  Caspian tucked a hand under his arm and tapped a finger on his bottom lip as he scrutinized his long-lost friend. Aria had certainly seen better days. Her deep red hair hung in limp tangles around a sallow gray face. Purple tinged her lips and the vibrant life in her green eyes appeared to have been snuffed behind a dull evergreen.

  She looked nothing like the rebel mermaid he’d once known.

  “It’s been a while, Casp.” The length of felt covered Aria’s hands, but he noted the way they twisted in constant motion beneath the fabric. “I was looking for you.”

  Caspian snickered, settling his mask of laid-back cockiness firmly in place. He’d built himself a reputation in this village. He wasn’t about to let Aria be privy to anything to the contrary. In one easy motion, he pushed off his desk and crossed the small space between them. The closer he came, the stronger the scent of ocean, beach, and seaweed. And illness. Merfolk weren’t accustomed to nurturing a human form. He’d expect this from any other merperson, but not Aria. Not after her short stint as a human.

  Shoving the near-instinctive concern for her aside, he circled her slowly. “What could possibly bring you to these docks? Surely you don’t seek to stoke an old flame. He’s since married and I believe his wife has given him three boys.”

  He dared touch her hair, his connection airy and almost imperceptible. A flitter of magic fled his fingertips, weaving into the poorly kept strands. The princess of the sea had no clue of the danger she could find herself in on land. Tracking Aria, as much as he hated to have any connection to her, would ensure her safety. At least until he found out why she’d paid him a visit.

  A decade later and you still care enough, no matter what she did to you.

  “I heard you’ve made quite a life for yourself on land. And a name. But”—she turned only enough to catch sight of him over her right shoulder—“your place is not here. You’re a prince.”

  Caspian laughed and swung out his arms. “A prince indeed! A prince of the docks.” He stepped back and dipped into a deep bow. “Welcome to my land, princess. I know it fails to meet the grandeur of your underwater kingdom, but this is my world. My piece of it, in any case.” Straightening up, he leaned close to Aria, taking a short breath of her scent as he noted the hollowness of her eyes. The woman needed a meal, or a dozen. “And no one can tell me what to do here.”

  Aria let out an exasperated sigh. “Still the same carefree spirit you’ve always been, I see.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly, circling her small frame once more before taking up his lazy stance against the front of his desk. “Why would I change, princess? I rather enjoy who I am and would change for no one. Unlike some.”

  He leveled a hard glower at her as he crossed his arms over his chest, softening the edge of his words only with a tilt of his lips. Her sickly pale cheeks managed to conjure some semblance of a blush at his shameless dig. “I’m certain you didn’t seek me out to reminisce about our lost friendship. So, why do you seek my attention?”

  At least she had the decency to lower her eyes beneath his inquiry, which didn’t bode well for the reason behind her presence. He doubted she had forgotten the results of showing her true form to the now king of these lands, and the consequences of her actions.

  “There is upheaval underwater and your presence is requested.”

  Caspian narrowed his eyes, rapping his fingers against his forearm. He hadn’t acquired the title Forgotten Prince through chance. After his parents died and their kingdom was destroyed, he escaped to a life as an average merperson living peacefully under Queen Taelyss’s rule.

  The only person he’d confided his past to was the very woman who shunned him. The same one who stood before him, requesting his return to the sea.

  He huffed. “Not likely. Sorry. My responsibilities here are great.”

  Aria twisted her hands beneath the cloak more furtively. A familiar expression crossed her face, tight-lipped and nostrils flaring. The stubborn princess crested a wave of emotion before the pitiful human form drowned it again.

  “It’s my mother. And sisters.”

  Well, that was a joke.

  Caspian waved a hand carelessly and moved back to his chair, and the daunting ledger he really needed to attend to. “Little princes, your mother is a goddess. There’s little to nothing that can pose a threat to her.”

  “The witch…”

  His head shot up and he froze, his body caught in a partially crouched position. His ass hadn’t reached his cushioned seat when those two words spilled from her lips with haunting speed and cold resonance.

  Aria continued to fidget, a characteristic that seemed as much beyond her awareness as the impact of the damaging words that could so thoughtlessly fall from her mouth. The grey tint of her skin paled until he worried she might pass out on his office floor.

  “She has my mother and my sisters. They need your help.”

  He managed a grunt before forcing his body to relax, to sit. “Dima has nothing but ill intent, and I won’t return to the waters to feed her ego while she destroys innocents. My apologies, princess. This is one battle I will not entertain.”

  Aria rushed to his desk as he threw open the ledger he had been working on before her unexpected interruption. She snatched the pen he picked up and braced herself on locked arms over his ledger. Without missing a beat, he opened his drawer and retrieved another pen, earning a frustrated growl from his unwanted visitor.

  “I don’t ever recall you being selfish. Foolish, perhaps, but never selfish. You are a prince. That comes with responsibilities that are not here, in this warehouse on these human docks, Casp.”

  Caspian spared her a short glance before lifting one of her balled fists off his ledger and placing it on his desk beside the tome. Her accusations made him bristle,
her barbed tongue a threat to his carefully woven control.

  Despite the heat of his blood, he managed a rakish smile, winked, and began scribbling in the journal.

  “Ahh, we change over years, princess. Perhaps I am foolish. And selfish. Raucous. Careless.” He tapped the length of the pen against his chin. “Oh, right, not careless. Carefree. But while we’re throwing insults, I don’t ever recall you to be a woman to barter one person for another. Yet here you are.”

  He caught her furious gaze and watched the short-lived fire in her eyes snuff out beneath a veil of shame. His smile stretched, though it felt brittle. “And as you may have forgotten, my title was lost many years ago, along with my parents and my kingdom and my people. I have no responsibilities to a royal position I don’t possess and, honestly, have no interest in reinstating.”

  “Bastard!”

  Caspian chuckled, the cool edge of the sound wiping the last of her fury away. He sat back in his chair and lifted his hands, palms up. “Now that is a title I adore.” He cocked his head to the side and lowered his hands to flatten them on his desk. “Especially after a romp in a woman’s warm bed.”

  Aria’s eyes widened and her white lips parted on a gasp. He had never spoken to her so crudely. She shoved herself off the desk, tossed the pen down, and stormed to the door. Caspian laughed at her back. Laughed until the door slammed shut, rattling the single window in its pane.

  Alone, his laughter ceased instantly. He sank down in his chair and pinched his forehead, the ache growing behind his eyes triggered by the sting of guilt. He really didn’t need to dig his point in with that last comment, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when he finally had the upper hand after so long. Seeing Aria after all these years sparked that old flame, and the bitterness she sowed with her caustic words as she ended their friendship.

  Ten years since he’d left the haven of Queen Taelyss’s kingdom that fateful night, and traipsed onto forbidden soil.

  He’d drowned himself in work, building his fortune, building his name and reputation, both with businessmen and lovely ladies. He’d earned the reckless King Jethro’s respect after salvaging a royal ship that had been damaged in a wicked storm. Apparently, the cargo was worth more than the lives lost to the sea.