Saved by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 9)

by Starla Night

“But you said the problem was energy, right?” Pia asked. “You have to increase your energy?”

  “That’s the main part of it, yeah.”

  “Yoga,” Erin said. “Wake up, mat out, music on. Twenty minutes later, you’ll be sweaty and feel amazing.”

  “Or karaoke,” Charisma said. “You always had so much energy belting out Shania Twain at two thirty in the morning. Of course, you were plastered.”

  “And here I am fresh out of yoga mats and alcohol.”

  “Drunk yoga,” Pia said, and they all giggled.

  Hearing them laugh and chat made her so lonely. This was a paradise, but things had been awkward with Lotar, and her shield was as weak as her healing.

  What was her special talent?

  “Perhaps you have equal affinity for all three powers,” Dannika had suggested after their third mediocre session together underwater. “Something doesn’t stand out to you because you are well-rounded.”

  “So instead of excelling at one thing, I suck at all three?”

  Dannika had laughed. “Try increasing your resonance with Lotar. His confidence will help you increase your power and develop your true potential.”

  “And by ‘increase my resonance,’ you mean…”

  Dannika had grinned and patted her pregnant belly. “You know what I mean.”

  Right.

  So if she had any chance of hunting him down, she would.

  Months had gone by since she’d left her apartment, but it felt like only a couple of days. And with him close by, a sense of coziness filled her, like snuggling under the sheets together while the rain pattered on the window and they spent a lazy weekend inside.

  But now?

  Well, now she was second-guessing spending another couple of months underwater with the man who wouldn’t give her a second look.

  It was extra obvious in comparison to how Ciran treated Dannika.

  Ciran’s gaze followed Dannika everywhere. He stayed close and materialized at her side the moment she looked for him like he was reading her mind or something. He treasured her.

  And while Hazel didn’t want to be smothered, Lotar was a lone wolf.

  Maybe she’d gotten spoiled by the first part of the journey when they’d constantly been together.

  Or maybe he was thinking about everything that had gone wrong and decided not to take her on the next leg.

  “Hey,” Pia broke through the giggles and into her thoughts. “Have you tried theater exercises? I could teach you a couple.”

  “Are those the weird mouth things you do sometimes?”

  “Professional speakers use those,” Charisma said.

  “Before my husband presents at a sales meeting, he puts Metallica’s fastest, hardest album in his earbuds and dances around the executive suite,” Erin said. “He did it as a junior right out of college and it stuck as a lucky charm. Everyone loves dancing around when no one’s watching.”

  “Like singing power ballads in the shower,” Pia said.

  “Ooh! We should have sent you a power ballads album!” Erin gasped. “It’s not too late. Here, I’ll look up… What’s the theme from Rocky?”

  “‘The Final Countdown,’” Charisma said.

  “I don’t think that’s it,” Erin said.

  “No, no, it’s just a power ballad. Also ‘More than a Feeling’ by Boston, ‘It’s Raining Men,’ ‘I Will Survive’—”

  “Oh, yes, I love that one,” Pia said.

  “‘My Heart Will Go On,’” Charisma continued.

  “Is that really a power ballad?” Erin asked.

  “Anything Celine Dion is a power ballad,” Charisma said.

  Erin and Charisma debated whether it counted while Pia sang the main refrain.

  “The Moulin Rouge song,” Charisma said.

  “Ooh, totally,” Erin said.

  “I did get your package, though.” Hazel crinkled the cheesy puffed rice wrapper next to the phone. “I ate so much. The island residents also thank you for your generosity. We’re supposed to leave tomorrow, and I don’t think it’d last until the Azores.”

  “We can send you another package,” Pia said. “We’ll send it early so it’ll be there.”

  “I got the non-food item.” Hazel tapped the cardboard package of condoms against the phone. “Ribbed for her pleasure?”

  The women burst out laughing.

  “I was pregnant on a six-hour cruise, and I do not recommend it,” Erin said. “We’re thinking of you.”

  “I appreciate the thought,” Hazel said, especially since she’d been off the pill this entire journey. “You know I can’t take it underwater.”

  “Using them all in one night might be a lot, but Owen and I have faith in you,” Pia said.

  “Owen?” Hazel had enjoyed a couple of girls’ nights, and they’d never had a boy there before. “Owen’s there?”

  “Hi,” Owen said from a distance.

  “It was his idea to send you the care package,” Erin said. “And since Pia broke up with guitar bro, she needs another admirer.”

  “Haha, you guys,” Pia said flatly. “I don’t always have a boyfriend.”

  “Right, now you have a friend who’s a boy,” Erin said.

  They teased her, and Hazel could picture herself there, in the trendy apartment that she’d wanted so much, in the old New York of her dreams.

  In the reality before her, the dinner assistants gathered at the firepit.

  “All right, well, I’m on tropical dinner duty,” Hazel said. “Although having just eaten an entire bag of cheesy puffs, I’m not sure I have it in me.”

  “You have a strenuous night tonight.” Erin laughed, and they all hooted.

  She hung up and tapped the condoms box against her thigh.

  Hazel didn’t have to know every single thought that went through Lotar’s head.

  But she did have to know where things stood.

  Awkward or not, she had to get her answers tonight.

  Hazel’s eyes weighed on Lotar from down the table.

  He focused on Second Lieutenant Ciran. “Do you still insist I must take a bride on the All-Cities Gyre?”

  “Insist? This mission is fully under your authority.” The experienced warrior forced the responsibility back onto Lotar. “King Kadir has agreed. You are the one completing the All-Cities Gyre, so you alone must evaluate the danger and decide to continue with Hazel or not.”

  His heart thudded. His fingers flexed for his daggers. Undirected electricity churned in his guts. “Travel is dangerous. Hazel has no defenses. Her strongest power is healing.”

  “So is Queen Elyssa’s, and yet she travels often with King Kadir, and fearlessly.”

  “Not at first.”

  “Nothing is easy at first. For humans or the mer.”

  He closed his eyes. “You have no advice?”

  “You should have rested this week.” Second Lieutenant Ciran laced his fingers. “I once left my soul mate behind. Enemies overwhelmed the island, took our young fry, and imprisoned us to be executed. I would not advise it.”

  Lotar nodded, although obviously, he had no young fry nor any island to protect.

  “Tomorrow you will have an escort back to Lusca. We rotate warriors so all have a chance on the surface. They can also escort Hazel back to the surface if you decide it is too dangerous to continue with her to Newas.”

  “What about the announcements from Syrenka?”

  “Syrenka is assisting the All-Council. Why? I do not know. But you have something the All-Council does not.”

  “Which is?”

  “A queen.”

  Down the table, Hazel had finally turned away from Lotar and talked to the other queens. She passed a box filled with gifts. Queen Meg’s eyes lit up, and she tore a wrapper concealing two long candy sticks. The others made friendly comments about the contents of the box. Hazel laughed and, after another comment, laughed even harder.

  He couldn’t leave her here. She was so vital.

  An
d someday, she might grow to hate him.

  No.

  Second Lieutenant Ciran knew his skills and did not hate him.

  Maybe Hazel would not.

  But if she did…

  If he allowed himself to tell her everything and she turned against him…

  No. He could not survive it.

  He finally said the real problem to his mentor. “She is a distraction.”

  “She surprised you during the stealth lesson, but in the future, you will prepare for the soul mate connection.”

  No, that wasn’t it. “In me, she causes distraction. Weakness. I do not think. My training stops.” He made a scratching gesture over his heart. “I am at war.”

  Second Lieutenant Ciran smiled. “The weakness is the realization that you are no longer strongest within. For warriors such as us, who have left home cities and fathers behind to join Atlantis, this realization is especially hard. When you embrace that which you are fighting, it will no longer be a distraction. It will be your strength.”

  Was that true?

  Hazel stood abruptly. “Well, I’m going to have to skip Survivor night because I don’t care what else happens, but I am using this Lush body wash before I get back into the ocean for another three months.”

  The other women clapped for her.

  She stared at Lotar for one long, hard moment.

  A strong feeling hooked him.

  Come.

  He had to follow her now, or he’d regret it.

  Perhaps this was his chance for clarity.

  He rose, bid his mentor farewell, and followed Hazel into the island’s interior.

  Eighteen

  Hazel led Lotar up the path toward the island’s outdoor shower.

  His body warred with itself.

  He wanted to take her. Claim her. He craved her touch. This week, he had endured because he had not allowed himself near her.

  Following her into the interior—alone—and fantasizing about drawing her back into his arms brought up forceful images of what he craved.

  But he must not.

  Hence the war.

  Just as Second Lieutenant Ciran had said.

  She stopped at the screen and removed her clothing, unveiling her gorgeous body, so different in the air.

  His cock flexed against the fabric of the shorts.

  He stopped

  She hooked a finger. “Coming?”

  Come.

  He removed the fabric and left the clothing with hers. Down the steps, she diverted the water of the stream into a shower over her and stood on the wood slats. Her hands sluiced the foaming liquid over her body. She was gorgeous, female, all he wanted, all he would ever want. He drank her in with his eyes, memorized her with his soul. And all he wanted to do was bring her to his body, part her legs, and hoist her onto his hard cock. Take her while she moaned his name in pleasure. Unite their bodies for all time.

  But even though his cock yearned to cross the distance, his feet remained firmly planted.

  She beckoned to him.

  Come.

  He must not.

  Hazel set aside the bottle of liquid soap on a rock and faced him. Glorious, female. Beautiful.

  Determined. “What’s wrong?”

  She deserved to know the truth. Here. Where she could separate from him easily.

  Stay silent.

  His body felt like it was being cracked in half. The chitin fractured as he revealed the one thing no mer should ever say to his bride. “I cannot become a father.”

  Lotar looked at Hazel like his world was ending.

  I cannot become a father.

  Three different urges pulled at her.

  Shock, then anger. Why hadn’t he told her before? They could have worked through it together instead of avoiding each other.

  Most powerfully, she needed to comfort and reassure him. The world wasn’t really ending.

  It’s okay. We can adopt.

  Who knew that the mer suffered infertility?

  Her cousin on her dad’s side had gone through a whole journey, and in the end had fostered to adopt an entire sibling set.

  They could…

  No.

  Warriors only got hard in the presence of their soul mates. Hazel was his. As demonstrated by his constant and gratifying reaction to her. When she’d stepped under the shower, she’d kind of been wondering if he’d changed his mind about wanting to be with her, but when he descended the steps with a hard-on that could be seen from space, well, it made her feel even sweeter than the brown sugar scrub.

  And nobody gave warriors physicals. If he’d been injured as a child, the magical Life Tree should have healed him by now.

  He didn’t say he was incapable.

  He said, “I cannot become a father.”

  Huh.

  And so instead of leaping into the fray, making a ton of assumptions and driving her fragile, conflicted warrior away, Hazel made her most Dannika-like response ever. “Oh? You can’t?”

  He shook his head.

  She allowed herself a step forward. The pleasantly cool shower bounced off her shoulders and sprayed his chest. “Can you tell me a little more about that?”

  “I am…” His lips pressed together, and he glared at the rock wall behind her, his shoulders hunched as he relived something. “Not fit to raise young fry.”

  She took another step. “Not fit?”

  “I have no patience. Bad temperament. No protective instinct.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “You will curse me. Someday. When I fail my young fry as I failed my father.”

  “You won’t do that.”

  “I already left you. In danger.” His eyes squinted with self-recrimination. “Twice.”

  Answers poured into her mind.

  You saved me.

  You protected me.

  Everyone makes mistakes.

  Or the more logical, You’ve never seen a mythical kraken before. How could you know that was the sign? You’ll do better next time.

  He was so used to being perfect that the slightest miscalculation set him adrift.

  Instead, she touched his elbows. The muscle flexed. Delicious. She ran her fingers lightly up to his chin and cupped his jaw on both sides, forcing him to fix his mesmerizing gray eyes on her. “Do you believe everything you’re told?”

  His lashes fluttered, but he did not fully blink. “No.”

  “Then forget the haters. They don’t love you.”

  His gaze turned inward.

  She tugged him back. “I’m your soul mate. Which means I know the truth. You’re the most patient, most protective, most…most…fittest warrior in the entire ocean. And anyone who tells you otherwise can answer to me.”

  His eyes flickered across her face as if he was studying her for the lie.

  But she was telling exactly the truth.

  With all she had.

  His gray brows lowered, and his gaze focused on her mouth. He finally accepted, even believed her.

  Good.

  Hazel licked her lips. “But just so you know, if you want to wait a while to have kids, I respect—”

  He closed the distance and covered her mouth in his kiss.

  Their mouths united, parted, melded. His tongue drove into hers, bobbing and questing, and his arms tangled her in his embrace. He drove her backward, under the spray of the cool stream, and it pattered like a rainstorm, a meeting place of land and water.

  Her breasts rubbed across his hard pectorals. Her nipples pearled. Delicious tension streaked to her center and awareness throbbed.

  She filled her hands with his rippled shoulders, back, tight buttocks. The hips she had gripped underwater without even thinking about it. The divot for the vee.

  His cock slid against her waist.

  She curled her fingers around the enticing base.

  He grunted in surprise and surged into her hand.

  That’s right. She knew how to do things that would make his toes curl.

>   His hands spanned her hips. He took a step forward, planting his foot against a boulder, and settled her onto his bent knee. She gripped his shoulders for balance. He dropped his head to her right breast, circled the areola, and flicked the nipple with his tongue.

  Pleasure blossomed, and the throbbing ache in her pussy increased. She scooted forward on his iron-hard thigh, and the slight roughness slicked by water and her lubrication eased the need, but his ongoing suckling and teasing pinches of her other nipple made her clench.

  She rubbed her slick fingers up and down his cock.

  He made an uncontrollable groan and released her nipple to chase her mouth, a predator fixed on his prey, biting and snapping, savage and sexy. She continued to stroke, harder and faster, and his groans turned to pants.

  If he thought this was good, he should see what she could do with her—

  He laid her back, balancing her partly on the rock, and lifted her pussy to his mouth.

  How—?

  His tongue laved her, exploding the ache into a desperate hunger, and each skillful stroke pulled her closer to the peak. So fast. Oh, God. And he looked so magnificent. Other guys made it into a big chore, but he devoured her, showing that infinite patience and groaning as if he were getting off on it as much as she was. She threaded her fingers with his as he sent her over the edge and she arched. Release whipped through her, tumbling her over and over like the riptide.

  And then he dragged her down his body, fitted his cock to her still-throbbing pussy, and surged in.

  A new explosion of desperate need coursed through her. She grabbed for him, for anything to hold on to, as he pounded his cock deep into her pussy, finding and chasing her deepest pleasure, pounding into her until she curled against him and arched in a full-body, kiss-the-stars, nobody-ever-experienced-this-much-rapture-from-just-sex release. She eventually floated back to Earth. He collapsed on top of her.

  The water of the river poured through the slats, misting them.

  The actual stars flickered overhead in the deep, dark sky.

  Could she have this every day? Yes, please? Gosh, they’d already wasted so much time.

  He rested at a funny angle, contorted so his head ended up on her chest, his ear over her heart. She brushed her fingers through his long, damp gray streaks. Lighter gray mixed with darker gray, white, and black, like the pelt of a fierce wolf.