Atlantis: The King’s Return

Book One

D. K. Combs

Copyright © 2017 D.K. Combs

All rights reserved.

Cover Designed by “Covers by Combs”

Formatted by “Covers by Combs”

Edited by Rose Marie of “Merciless Editor”

COPYRIGHT: This story, "Atlantis: The King's Return" including all chapters, prologues/epilogues and associated content (i.e fanfics, teasers and content within blogs, social networks and eReaders) is copyrighted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights are reserved by the owner and creator of this work (D.K. Combs) and any unauthorized copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law.

Punishments include but are not limited to:

A fine of up to $150,000 for each work infringed.

Infringer pays for all attorney's fees and court costs.

The Court can issue an injunction to stop the infringing acts.

The Court can impound the illegal works.

The infringer can go to jail.

Acknowledgments

I’m going to make this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who made this possible—my editor. My mom. My dog. My cat. My little demon spawn for sometimes not being so demonic. And, sometimes, my husband… Yeah. Thank you for being crazy influences that drove me re-vamp and publish this book.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Also by D. K. Combs

About the Author

“Going on this cruise will be good for you! It might be a couple’s thing, and I’d go with you if I could, but I have so much work to catch up on.”

“I can’t go on a cruise by myself, Ray. I’d look pathetic.”

“No you won’t. Listen, Mari, I know some people on the cruise that you can hang out with. Don’t worry about having fun—you will, trust me. It’ll be a good break from all this stress.”

“This really isn’t a good idea…”

“Of course it is. I really would go with you, sweetie, if I wasn’t so busy.”

As Mari stared out at the bright blue waves that broke against the ship’s hull, she wanted to strangle Ray. Oh, she’d tried refusing, fighting back, playing seasick—she’d even tried to feign drowning in the hotel’s pool where they’d been staying. Yet nothing had worked. She’d begged and pleaded all the way to the giant cruise ship’s loading deck, but her words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Damn him,” she muttered, shielding her eyes against the bright sun. God, she’d never been in a place so bright and…well, blinding. As an Oregon resident, she was used to tall trees and long rains.

She heard a couple giggling behind her, and she stopped herself from turning around and telling them to get a room. It was only her first hour on the cruise—they’d left shore not even fifteen minutes ago—and on her way to the rail she’d found five couples making out. Two of the said couples she’d noted had their hands in places that they shouldn’t have been. And she’d heard…sounds; horrible, terrible sounds coming from one of the rooms on her way up.

What had Ray been thinking?

This was supposed to be an anniversary present—and he’d sent her here alone! Three years together, and the asshole had sent her on a couple’s cruise by herself.

Because of “work.” The very night before the cruise was set to leave, he got the call from his boss. His excuse for her going alone? He’d already bought the tickets. At least one of them had to go.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she gazed at the crashing, splitting waves. Salty air enveloped her like a damp embrace, catching her off guard.

As the sensation traveled through her body, the waves slowly began to blur.

Her stomach heaved.

Oh god. She pushed herself away from the rail, feeling as if her throat was doing a workout while she struggled to keep the bile down.

Really bad idea.

She stumbled to the side, barely catching herself, and looked up in embarrassment at the couple watching her like she’d lost her head.

“Are you okay?” the bubbly blonde asked, hanging off her man’s arm as if she’d been sewn to it. The guy didn’t bother looking her way; he was too busy necking his girl.

This isn’t even a couple’s cruise, she thought. It’s more like a live-porno.

Her head reeled, and she rushed to her cabin, not giving them another glance. Thankfully, no one was cluttering the lower halls of the ship. Ray had gotten a room on the lower level of the ship, and she didn’t know whether to be grateful or furious at him.

She didn’t have much time to contemplate what she should feel before the slow rocking of the ship sent her running to the bathroom. She threw open the toilet seat.

She’d been offered a drink—which she had graciously accepted—when she first came aboard the ship. Now that drink came up with a rush. Whatever they’d given her, it’d had alcohol in it. Great—just great. The serving staff onboard had poisoned her on the couple’s cruise ship that she’d gone on by herself.

Maybe they’d noticed and had taken pity on her, deciding it would be better to put her out of her misery.

As her stomach rolled again, she thought, Sorry, guys. I’m going to need a couple more beers before I’m drunk enough to be happy on this godforsaken cruise.

Mari sat up weakly, pushing her hair back. Who’d have known she wasn’t a sea person?

The room pitched to the side and she toppled over again, this time barely making it to the toilet. God damn it, if she had to put up with two more weeks of this, she was going to kill herself. Maybe when they hit Mexico, the captain wouldn’t mind if she ditched the rest of the cruise and took a plane home…

She pushed her hair behind her ear, nodding to herself and standing up on legs that shook like a baby lamb’s. Yeah, she was definitely hitching a ride across the border the second they docked on land.

Mari splashed water on her face and hobbled into her cabin, searching for a toothbrush through her mess of toiletries. She hadn’t forgotten a single detail. Nothing sucked more than being stuck at sea with no tampons, mascara, or lotion. At least, that’s what she assumed. This was her first time on a cruise, so she’d made sure to pack…everything.

She found it at the bottom of the bag on top of her laptop, along with her toothpaste. “Thank god,” she muttered, rushing to the bathroom.

Three minutes later, she was digging out her laptop and turning on her phone. She hadn’t told Ray, but she’d subscribed to the Wi-Fi hotspot her cell phone company offered. Even with the extra cost of roaming, she wasn’t going to go a whole month without Wi-Fi. Especially if she would be stuck on a rocking ship.

The butterflies in her stomach returned with a vengeance. Whelp, that meant it was time for her to climb into bed. There was no possible way she was going to enjoy her time on deck. What with the horny couples and the blinding sun—it was going to be impossible to find any enjoyment.

She logged onto the computer. Maybe she could email Ray so much that she’d annoy him to death and convince him to buy her a flight home or get on the cruise with her—even though she’d much prefer going home.

Still, the thought of making Ray go through the same torture was honestly one of the most appealing things she could imagine.

She waited patiently while Gmail loaded on her screen.

Then she frowned.

Twenty emails?

The hell?

This was her and Ray’s shared email. They both had one for work, but this was used for when their family wanted to connect or when they signed up for coupon offers. She’d checked her email just before leaving, and it was only an hour later. The coupon guys had already sent their stuff, so what was…?

She clicked on the most recent one she saw.

Ill b ovr later bby. I cant w8 to feel ur big co—

Mari tore her eyes off the screen. Gagged. Froze. Stopped breathing.

Who the hell was messaging her? Or was this even meant for her? It couldn’t have been, which meant it was for Ray, who was obviously messaging back…but would Ray do something like that?

No. No, he wouldn’t. Ray wouldn’t do that to her.

Her heart hammering, Mari clicked on the previous email; it showed the reply—his reply. No …this couldn’t be. Someone had hacked their email. Ray wouldn’t do this to her, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be dumb enough to use their personal one while he was at it…

Tears built up in her eyes as she read through all of them. All of the dirty, nasty, terrible emails. Why couldn’t they have just…just texted each other? It would have made more sense than for her to find out like this.

Near blind with emotion and tears, she read that the woman’s phone had died and this was the only email she’d remembered. And Ray… Ray hadn’t even cared. He’d said that “the bitch was out of town and it didn’t matter.”

Her stomach heaved, but not because of the sea rocking the ship back and forth.

There had to be something wrong. Something seriously wrong. He couldn’t be doing this to her. They’d been together for three years, dated since post-college, and now...this?

She picked up her cell, her hands shaking and tears falling down her cheeks. It was hard to see the buttons, but she eventually dialed him and listened to the tone. He had better answer her… Panic lodged a thick ball of tears in her throat.

Sending her on a couple’s cruise, alone, just so he could screw around with some other bitch? Someone named Bailey? Her chest tightened to the point of being unable to breathe. God, he’d actually done this to her … he’d actually done this to her.

“Please leave a message after the beep. Beep.”

A loud, echoing groan sounded through the corridors of the boat before she had a chance to open her mouth to speak.

Crunch.

Crunch? What kind of boat crunched—?

Water seeped through under her doorway.

She dropped the phone.

Terror gave her the strength to run to the door. She yanked it open, causing a gush of water to flow past her legs and into her room, nearly a foot high.

Holy shit.

The ship was sinking.

Mari forgot about her phone, the emails, and her cheating boyfriend. Stark terror held her immobile as she took in the scene before her.

Water rose rapidly to the level of her legs, sloshing up her front and soaking her. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, trying to clear her vision. The ship was sinking. She had only seconds to react, and her instincts told her to climb up to the ship’s deck. If she stayed down here, she’d drown.

The water weighed down her clothes, making it harder for her to move. She stripped off her capris, thankful for the bikini bottoms she’d thrown on earlier.

Still, trying to trudge through the water was like trying to make lead float. The effort had her panting despite the coolness of the water, and she struggled to get out of her cabin, the rushing water forcing her back and frustrating her.

She took a deep breath.

Mari ducked under the water, out of the current. When she was finally able to make it through the door, her arms had weakened. Exhausted, she waded slowly through the water.

She didn’t see anyone else in the narrow hallway that connected the cabins—she didn’t stop to look for anyone, either. The water kept rushing in, fast enough that if she didn’t hurry, she’d end up as food for the bottom feeders.

Mari stood on her tiptoes and rose high enough to the ceiling to breathe through a small pocket of air. She gasped and then looked around her. The hall had been narrow but tall, and now the entirety of it was submerged with water, aside from this two-foot air pocket.

She peered down the hall, through the water, and she saw the elevator that led to the main level—yeah, good luck with that.

Luckily, there was a door to an emergency stairway beside the elevator, which had to be her way out. The door was open, revealing steps that led to the deck. The water climbed higher, mimicking her rising panic. With every minute that passed, the water rose higher. A small part of her wondered how this was happening so fast, but the urgency of the situation was greater than her curiosity.

Mari, pushing aside her panic, took another breath and ducked under the salty water’s surface, swimming her way to the door. She was determined not to die; her stomach tried to rebel with heavy, bile-filled heaves. Things were finally looking up.

And then the LED lighting above flickered for just a second before a thunderous boom resonated through the ship. The water shifted around her, and the lights gave one last flash before dying out.

Despite her fear, she knew she needed to keep going. But it wasn’t easy; she was now completely blind, unable to see even her own two hands as she plowed through the all-consuming darkness.

Oh, god, she thought. How the hell was she supposed to see the door? Better yet, how would she find the small pocket of air left to breathe through? Feeling hysteria taking over, she reached her arms out around her, trying to get a sense of where she was, and perhaps reconstruct the image in her mind through memory. She felt around, closing her eyes as the salt water riddled her with a stinging sensation. Her hands trailed over the smooth, metallic wall, until her fingers found a small crevice.

Blindly, Mari swam forward. After a few terrifying strokes, she collided with something—something metal. A wall?

Touching anything was better than dying, which would likely be her fate if she couldn’t get the hell out of this flooded hallway! She felt lightheaded. Deep in her soul, Mari knew that she only had a couple of seconds before the lack of oxygen killed her.

She felt around for the air pocket she’d discovered before. Finding it, she pushed off her feet and up towards the ceiling. It was smaller than last time; now, she had to practically kiss the ceiling to steal her final breath of air. She needed to get out of there—now.

Knowing this would be her last chance of survival, she took her final plunge into the watery depths, feeling around for the exit. Unable to see, her sense of direction was compromised. For all she knew, she could be heading in the opposite direction of the door.

Then she found it—or the lack of something. As she slid her palm along the wall, she noticed a gap, just large enough to slip through, which meant…

Yes! She’d found the exit. Kicking her feet desperately, thanking every single mystical being out there, Mari swam arm-by-arm up the staircase, her lungs begging her for oxygen. She wondered if she’d make it. The pain became so great that she moaned, despite wasting the last bits of precious air that still remained in her oxygen-starved lungs. One row after the other, she clawed her way to survival, until finally, she emerged from the water.

The moment her head rose above the water, she sucked in a lungful of air. Shouting voices were everywhere. Alarms were blaring and the groaning that she’d heard in her cabin was so loud that her ears began to pound. The bile rising in her throat was a sharp reminder that she was still in the freezing water and still in danger.

She shook herself out of her stupor. Everything was dangerous—not just the water. The thought spurred her into action.

Mari didn’t believe for a second that she was going to die. Despite the fact that her arms were weak, and she felt on the verge of collapsing back under the water, the fear kept her motivated. Like an ominous ghost, the determination kept her afloat. She had to make it out of this—if only to kill Ray.

She screamed as a pair of rough hands grabbed her shoulders.

“Come on. We’re loading the rafts!” shouted a man.

She was hauled out of the water and dragged onto the deck before being passed to another pair of hands. The world spun around her; everything was happening too fast for her to keep up with.

Flashlight beams shone around the corridor. The ship groaned again, this time louder, and she heard the distinct sound of water rushing in from somewhere behind her. One of the men holding the flashlights shouted and pointed over her shoulder. The last thing she saw in the man’s eyes was a resigned look of certainty.

The certainty that they were going to die.

All of them.

Her blood chilled in her veins, though not because of the cold water.

A shove to her back propelled her forward into what seemed like millions of arms. Someone wrapped a life jacket around her and then guided her to the other end of the ship, which was slightly more elevated and the only place the water had yet to reach. Mari looked around her; people were being loaded into rafts.

She tried to remain calm. Her mind was blank, as numb as the rest of her body. Were ships supposed to sink this fast? And how many hadn’t made it? Mari recalled that most of the passengers had been below deck unpacking and settling in... already, so many were lost.

The deck was in pieces: floorboards were split in half, bodies were crushed under rafters, and suitcases were floating in the pool of water that was gathering at the center of the ship. Large chunks of metal sunk beneath the surface of the water. Couples were choosing to go down together rather than part, and from all around her, she heard the endless serenade of prayers.

“Someone, get him! Please, we can’t just leave him there!” Mari looked in the direction of the voice.

The blonde. She was fighting against men who held her back, tears raining down her stark white face. Mari’s chest tightened at the sight. The agony in the woman’s eyes … she’d never forget it.

The man behind the blonde grabbed hold of her, dragging her away from danger. As he passed Mari, he paused a moment and ordered her to get moving. She followed his command like a zombie. There was no use trying to escape the catastrophe, not when the sailors gave up on themselves.

“Buckle that up,” the man growled, trying to keep his hold on the hysterical blonde in his arms. Mari numbly buckled her jacket like an obedient child.

The ship jerked to the side, and Mari lost her footing. The abrupt movement caused her head to slam into the deck. Water poured around her, choking her.

Mari gagged. Salt water wasn’t the best beverage, she thought, dazed and blinking sluggishly.

The world…slowed. Paused.

Blackness slowly replaced her vision. Limbs turned numb.

Consciousness…left.

The first thing she came aware of was the sound of lapping waves. They came slowly yet forcefully, bringing cool air with their arrival. She winced, lethargically opening her eyes and sniffing. Was that right?

Yeah. Cool, salty air.

She sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over her face… and coming away with pebbles. What the hell…? Mari wiped her hands off slowly, awareness settling in. Around her, the air was damp and thick; misty. Something she’d never seen or felt before.

Her feet were submerged in water, but the rest of her was on land. Cold, rocky land. Dark, rocky land. The blue dimness in the cave was unsettling yet ethereal. Sand and large boulders surrounded her. Above her, the ceiling of the cave swooped in a jagged dome, stalactites dripping so low that she could touch them. She reached for one cautiously, dazed.

Mari touched the shimmering cone with fascination. The substance that came away with her hand was waxy, covering her fingers with a silky sheen. A drop from the build-up hit the floor and joined the growing pile beside her. That small droplet had her eyes actually adjusting to where she was, reality kicking in.

Where the hell was she?

Mari looked around, stunned.

There wasn’t any light source, yet somehow the cave was bright, alive with an aqua glow. Wonder filled her, then confusion. It was so beautiful, like her own closed off escape, but…how had she gotten here?

Her eyes widened.

She was dead–she had to be.

But how–

The ship. The ship had sunk.

Her hand flew to her mouth with a gasp, eyes stinging painfully. She really was dead. The people on that boat…the blonde… everyone. Gone.

Her chest tightened, emotion clogging her throat. The blonde, her boyfriend, the men who had worked so hard to save them...there was no way anyone could have survived that.

Mari had never been on a boat, let alone a cruise. Her first time on board, and it had sunk. There’s no way this could be heaven! While it was magical and surreal in the underwater cave, there weren’t any clouds or men dressed in white robes coming to greet her.

Was this…hell?

Mari sat there in silence, thoughts running around her head like the gray matter was on steroids.

All she felt was remorse over what had happened and confusion for where she was. Was she going to be stuck in this dank cave for the rest of eternity, or was it like the waiting room of heaven? She squinted around, standing up. Grains of sand fell off her body and tumbled to the ground, the only sound besides the lapping waves.

She looked at the glowing pool of ocean again. There wasn’t any way to leave unless she swam under the water and eventually found an exit. But, judging by how dark the water was, she’d have to hold her breath for a lot longer than she could.

I’m dead, she thought. I can hold my breath and fly and sprout wings. Escaping a cave shouldn’t be a problem. After all, what could kill her if she were already dead?

Mari barely realized how strange it was that she felt perfectly fine for having died. The sound of tumbling water pulled her attention to the beach again.

Greedy little fingers formed within the waves, clutching onto the sand and then receding back with reluctance. It was such a soothing sight that all of her doubts fled. Calm washed over her like a misty breeze, and she smiled.

Being dead wasn’t so bad, Mari decided, if she could stay here. She took tentative steps toward the water, dipping her foot into the bright blue depths. She shivered from the cold, but walked further in nonetheless.

Thump.

The sound broke her concentration and her head snapped to the side.

What the hell had that been?

You’re dead, Mari. You shouldn’t say hell anymore. She shushed herself, peering closer over her shoulder. Probably just the echo of…what?

There hadn’t been anything falling to make an echo—that she had seen at least.

Mari stepped out of the water, curiosity urging her to venture into the cave. The water could wait–she had an eternity with it, after all.

Still, the lull was hard to resist. It was like someone had tied her foot to the shore and she had no desire to cut the string. Feeling like something was pulling her back to the water, Mari ignored the calling and strode with caution into the depths of the cave.

It was a lot deeper than she’d expected, almost bigger than her two-story house. The farther she went, the higher the ceiling was, and the darker it grew. If only she had a flashlight…

Shouldn’t she be able to see in the dark, though? Really, you’d think that the higher powers that be would have enough insight to give her night vision if she was going to be living in a dark cave for the rest of eternity.

“Apparently not,” she mumbled. Mari took another step forward, then squealed, yanking her foot back. “Ow, ow, ow! What the hel—heck!” She jumped on one foot, cradling her other, as pain shot into her sole and then up her leg. She whimpered, peered at the injury.

A small spot of blood pooled at the bottom of her foot. She wiped it away quickly, sniveling at the small throbbing in her foot.

Wait.

She was dead. So why is she bleeding? And why did it hurt so much?

Mari looked passed her foot, at what she’d stepped on.

Tiny little bones…

A fish skeleton. Her eyes widened.

Okaaaay. So there was some other creature inhabiting the cave as well? She gingerly picked it up, holding it towards the glow from behind her. Going by the size of the skeleton, it wasn’t a small thing either.

Mari should be scared. She should be terrified. She should be running and screaming and begging God to come and get her. She should not be going farther into the cave, like she was at that moment. She ignored the pulsing in her foot, some unknown force propelling her forward. A soothing sensation coursed through her body, nearly overtaking all of her senses and replacing them with the idea that it was okay to be this dazed, that it was okay to venture into the darkness.

Mari didn’t fight it, couldn’t have if she wanted to. The rational part of her mind was telling her that something was wrong, that she shouldn’t be lulled into the secure bubble that was wrapping around her.

She’d never been an adventurous child, even though she had grown up with four older brothers. If she could count all the times that she’d gone skydiving, rocking climbing, and hiking with them, she’d be able to fit the number on one hand.

If there was anyone telling them not to do something, it was her. She was the only one out of her whole family that was against putting people in danger. Her mother, her father – they’d passed on their active lifestyles to their sons, but not Mari.

Mari was the chicken. The wimp. She’d chosen the easy way out for life and had become a teacher, while her family had taken up more physical life styles, choosing to be architects and excavators. Even Ray had been a safe choice.

God. Ray.

The burst of anger she felt overcame the calmness she had been feeling.

How could she not have seen the bastard behind the mask? They’d gone to school together; she should have known he would do something like this, should have at least seen it coming.

They’d both been going to college for teaching degrees. Mari for math, and Ray for engineering. She remembered the rumors about him, but she’d been naïve, a college student looking for a good time. People changed, she told her friends whenever they critiqued the two of them. Ray had changed. He treated her like a princess. He loved her. He was faithful.

But hadn’t he been just like that to Emily? She knew the stories. He’d been with Emily Jensen since high school, had gone to Homecoming together as king and queen, and they’d been inseparable. Up until college. They’d gone to separate colleges, but had decided to stay together… Right up to the end of the first semester, when Emily had caught him cheating after a surprise visit.

By the time Ray and Mari had met, the scandal had died down and Ray had begun his all-famous charm. He’d wooed her, taken her places, shown her off to his friends, and respected her like she’d wanted. After one year together and during Christmas break, he’d taken her to meet his parents.

They’d decided to wait till they were done with school to be “officially” together, and Mari remembered the feeling of exhilaration she’d felt when Ray had come up to her on the day of Graduation.

Soon after, they’d gotten an apartment, were substituting in the same school district, and were falling even deeper in love.

Bile rose in her throat.

She’d been the one falling for him, not him for her. How long had he been cheating on her? A couple weeks? Months? Years?

The thought numbed her heart. She’d never expected this from Ray, never thought it would happen to her —

Thump.

The sound came from the left. The painful thoughts fled, and she realized that her cheeks...were wet. From tears. She quickly wiped them away; she wasn’t going to cry over Ray. She wouldn’t give him that power, even if he never knew he had it.

Maybe she’d haunt him.

That is, if whatever reigning power ever let her out of this creepy waiting room.

She went in the direction of the sound, the darkness creeping around her until she could barely see. How far back did this place even go? She’d only been walking for a couple minutes, and it felt like an eternity.

Even though it was completely dark, she pushed herself forward. She couldn’t die again, so assuming whatever it was that was back there attacked her, it would hopefully pass right through her. She’d seen tons of movies where that happened.

“Hello?” she called out tentatively.

Just because she was dead, didn’t mean she was stupid. At least she was giving the creature some kind of warning that a ghost was in its cave.

Thump.

No reply. Not even a groan. Just that low, steady “thump.”

It sounded like it could have been from a wing. She’d once watched a documentary on how birds flew, and the close-up of the bird had also enhanced the sound. The way the birds wing had pushed from the ground had emitted a strong “thump,” kind of like the one she was hearing now.

So there was some kind of bird in the underwater cave? Her eyes rolled. Okay. Because that made so much sense.

Mari reached out, using the senses she could. If she couldn’t see, at least she had her hands. And her nose…

She inhaled deeply — then coughed. Alright, bad idea. Whatever was back there, it smelled like really bad fish. Breathing through her mouth, she continued moving through the cave, hands extended, hoping she touched something soon — and not sharp teeth ready to chew her arm off.

Thump.

It was closer now. When she heard the sound, her hand brushed against something. Something hard, wet — but rough, just like the ground. She’d found the wall of the cave, at least.

Feeling her way through the cave was a lot easier than blindly walking through it. She felt lower, close to the ground, and made sure she lifted her feet and then set them down slower. Getting another skeleton stuck in her foot wasn’t on her list of priorities.

Something caught her attention in the corner of her eye. Light. As she watched, a small, dim light began to form in the center of the room. It was like a tiny orb, just floating there, contrasting way too much against the darkness. Her eyes adjusted, but the glare was still there.

It grew, moving closer to her. Mari backed away sharply, then screamed.

Something wet and slimy wrapped around her wrist.

Then it started to drag her forward.

“Let go of me!” she screeched, tearing her hand away and holding it to her chest. Terror raced through her.

The light grew until it was the size of her head, illuminating the cave. She saw the droplets of water falling from the ceiling and finally caught a glimpse of her surroundings. The nearest thing to her was the moss that was growing up the walls in intricate designs.

She stared in wonder, forgetting the fear as suddenly as it had struck. Never in her life had she seen something so mesmerizing, so magical. Lining the center of the moss were luminescent veins, glowing brighter than the orb of light was. The colors shone in every spectrum, so vibrant it was as if the air around the moss was shuddering.

What. The holy. Hell.

Mari brushed her hand over the moss. The colorful substance came away like glitter. It fell to the ground with a flutter and her mouth dropped open—

Slimy appendages wrapped around her wrist again and the spell was broken. Panic shot through her and she jerked against the hold, but it held fast, dragging her forward.

She screamed and kicked and fought, but nothing she did made the thing loosen. The glow followed behind them with a bounce, like it was happy.

“Come…”

All of the blood drained from her face.

Had something just spoken to her?

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. God was some sort of mutant freak, wasn’t he? Some fairytale for humanity that lured in the souls to this damp hell and then ate their souls with fish as an entrée.

“I swear to — to Satan! I’ll kill you before you have a chance to suck my soul!”

“Come to me…”

She shook her head emphatically, struggling against the hold. “Get off of me, damn it!”

“Calm…Come. With me…”

Real, tangible fear made Mari react the way she did, otherwise she never would have done it in the first place. If her brothers could see her now, being dragged by some slobbery servant of God, kicking and screaming, they would have been ashamed.

Just for that very reason alone, she couldn’t stop what happened next.

She burst into tears.

Large, bubbling, all-consuming tears. “I don’t want to die again,” she sobbed, still fighting. “I still have to haunt Ray and I just—I can’t—Please don’t suck my soul —“

“I’m not going to suck your soul.”

Mari sniffled, the tears falling down her cheeks like she was a faucet, so consumed with distraught and fear that she didn’t notice she was being spoken to by an actual voice, and not one with a ghostly cadence. “Please, please don’t —“

“I’m really not going to suck your soul… Breathe.”

She did as she was told — then finally realized what was happening.

A voice. A human voice. A dark, deep, entrancing human voice was talking to her.

The second she realized what was happening, that small orb illuminated into a full-blown light, spreading rays onto every single thing—and being.

Mari wiped her cheeks, looking around for the source of the voice.

Thump.

She snapped around.

With the light of the orb, she saw everything — and what was laying against the cave wall.

Mari froze. Gasped. Then did what any rational person would do—she screamed.

“No. Just no. You aren’t…what? No. There is no way that you’re just… It’s impossible. This is some weird-ass heaven waiting room. Or, you know what? I bet I’m not even dead! I’m probably in some friggin’ reality show and they’re trying to see when I crack and I think I might have just now and this can’t be happening—“

Swirling, ocean blue eyes stared at her as she ranted, and Mari really did feel like she’d lost her lid. There was no other explanation. The cruise, the cheating, the sinking—it had all been a ruse by some messed up TV show, and now they were throwing another shock her way.

Mari didn’t believe she was dead anymore. They didn’t have large men with tails in heaven; it just wasn’t heard of. No, whatever the hell was happening right now? It wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. She refused to believe that it was.

She nervously laughed, flicking her hair away from her face. “Alright, bud. You can take off the tail. I’m going insane, so wherever you’re hiding the cameras, you can take them out. No need to record this, really.”

The guy on the ground frowned at her. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and near hysterical. “Because I really, really think you do! C’mon, get up. Don’t just sit there, show me where the cameras are.”

He exhaled, just sitting there with that damn tail thumping against the ground rhythmically. It moved like it had a mind of its own, flowing against the ground like a solid form of water. There was no way to describe what it looked like—the costume artists had done an amazing job, she thought wildly, her chest pumping with panic.

She vaguely noticed the orb of light settle on the guy’s shoulder and the way he reached up to touch it like a…like a pet. His hand disappeared into the orb, and the light around them throbbed excitedly.

Her eyes could barely believe what she was seeing.

“Seriously, get up. Please just…take off—take off that damn tail and get me out of here!”

“I can’t take off the tail,” he said. She closed her eyes at the dark sound of his voice, at the anxiety he was causing her.

“Do you want me to help you? I can do that. If you get me out of here, I can definitely do that for you.” Mari started to move forward, wondering how she was going to begin getting that thing off of him when her hands were shaking so much. She pushed her hair behind her ear again, trying to breathe through the tightness in her chest.

Her hands were just about to touch the long, sweeping tail when it jerked away from her. Actually, it really didn’t jerk. It flowed, like a filmy piece of material would when billowing in the wind.

It curled defensively around his body, and she watched with her jaw dropped as he arranged himself so that he was sitting on his knees. As he moved, she noticed several things.

First, the back of the tail seemed to be peeling. The scales, which were pressed tightly together on the top of his tail, were flaking and they looked cracked, dried, like they had been rubbing against something rough. Which, she surmised as she looked at the ground, they had been.

Second, the effort it took him move. Either the tail was incredibly heavy, which she wouldn’t have doubted, or he was incredibly weak. She wouldn’t have doubted that either. He lurched forward, barely catching himself, and that was when she saw his shoulders.

They, too, were peeling. It wasn’t scales, though. Chunks of skin looked like they’d been ripped off and then left there, not completely stripped away. Her stomach lurched at the sight of open flesh and exposed muscle, and her shaking hand covering her mouth. God, how much must that hurt…

He must have noticed her reaction because he immediately straightened, even though the tightening of his lips showed how much it hurt him to do so.

“Oh my…God. Are you alright?” she asked thinly, taking a step forward. Suddenly, the TV show was taking a turn for the worst. What kind of show would air so much gore and blood? She hesitantly stepped forward, even as he moved back as much as he could.

Trying to get away from her?

“I’m fine, just…stay away from me.” The guy stared at her, an odd light showing in his eyes. She froze. So fake mer-guy was hostile? Mari bit her lip, watching him.

The ball of light shot forward, flittering around in front of her. She jerked back, shocked.

“Akrina, leave it,” he commanded with what strength he had. She could hear in his voice how weak he was, and her heart tightened for him. The orb moved back to his shoulder, then he trained his eyes on her.

She met his stare, at a complete and utter loss for words. He obviously wasn’t going to help her. She suspected that he couldn’t.

“How did you get here?” he demanded. His tail flexed behind him, drawing her attention.

“I… I don’t know. How did you get here?” At her question, the orb began to jump around. He touched it and the thing calmed.

“I’m asking the questions here, mortal. Answer me honestly. How did you get here?” The sudden strength took her back. His shoulders, despite the obvious pain he was in, straightened with authority and he stared at her as if he were her superior.

She frowned. “Mortal? Okay—I already said I don’t know how I got here. Now answer me a question, yeah? Where are the cameras?” If he could point them out to her, she’d believe she wasn’t going insane. First she was dead, now she was on a TV show—and seeing the state of his well being, she was beginning to doubt that either of those were the answer to her situation.

“I don’t know what a camera is,” he said indifferently. “You must know how you came upon me. Did she bring you here?”

“’She’?” Mari mimicked, growing more confused with each word. He didn’t know what a friggin’ camera was? Liar. What a liar. Mari closed her eyes, taking a calming breath. “I don’t know who ‘she’ is, but the last thing I remember before waking up on that shore over there was my cruise sinking.”

He digested the information with a calculating look in his eye, then adjusted himself. Even from where she stood a couple feet away from him, she heard the soft grunt of pain come from him when his back collided with the cave wall.

Her heart went out to him.

Why? she asked herself. Why did she care at all? This guy was an actor, he’d been trained for this type of thing. He couldn’t be in any real pain, because that would mean she was either dead and this was real, or this was… just real.

It couldn’t be, though.

Guys with tails, glowing balls of light, and underwater caves were not real, never had been. In the type of stories her mother used to read her, they were, but here? Hell no.

“Okay, seriously, this is getting old. Just take off the damn tail and help me get out of here. Neither of us need this, okay? I have an ex-boyfriend to kill and I can’t waste all of my time answering stupid questions.”

“My questions are not stupid, woman. They could very well mean life or death for you. However you came here, you need to leave. If, in fact, she did not bring you here, then you need to leave immediately or you can kiss the surface—and your life—goodbye.”

The urgency in his voice had her heart jumping. “Who the hell is this ‘she?!’ Why can’t you just make them come and get us or something? You have a mic on you, right? Just… Just call them already!”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” he growled, running a hand through black hair in an act of hopelessness. The locks were long enough that they brushed against his jaw, and as he pushed them back, she saw a single streak of royal blue threading through his hair.

“Do you want to be stuck here for forever?” the guy asked, his voice holding a sense of foreboding.

She shook her head. “I just want to leave…” A small whisper in her mind told her that this was feeling way too real to be a dream or reality show, and that leaving wasn’t going to be simple.

“Then go, damnit! Go back the way you came and don’t come back.” His command was brutal, angry. A flash of bitterness entered his eyes, before he was waving the orb of light at her. “Go, Akrina. Lead her back.”

It flitted towards her, resting near her shoulder. That slimy sensation of someone wrapping their fingers around her wrist came back, and she cursed, jerking. “Don’t touch me,” she growled, ripping her wrist away.

“Take her back,” the guy ordered over her refusal, his voice containing all the authority of a king. The hands wrapped around her wrist again, dragging her.

“Stop it!” she cried out, trying to fight it. “Stop—What happens when I go back? What about you?” Mari pulled against the tug, fear coursing through her. Could she even leave without him? Why was he trying to get rid of her so badly? Why didn’t he just take off the damn tail and lead her away himself, or at least try to leave with her?

“I have to stay here. You, however, need to go. Get away from me, and get back to the surface. Hurry, before she comes and finds you here.” He stopped speaking to her, whispering to himself, “I don’t want to know what she will do to me if she sees you…”

At that, she dug her heels into the ground and forced the orb to stop pulling her away from him. “If you don’t let go of me,” she threatened, barely believing she was talking to a bundle of light, “this will be the last time you shine.”

The grip on her abruptly dropped, and she rushed back to the man on the ground.

“What’s your name?” she demanded, her thoughts rushing. Just to save herself a sliver of sanity, she was going to pretend this was a dream. If it wasn’t a dream, then so be it—but she was sure as hell going to act like it was, or she’d lose her mind.

He sharply pulled away from her. “I can’t—“

“God damnit, just tell me your name,” she insisted, trying to keep the shout out of her voice.

“It’s…Ambrose,” he whispered, as if he’d forgotten his own name and just remembered it.

She paused. Stared at him. Then breathed out slowly, reaching to touch his hip, the place where the scales met flesh.

“All right, Ambrose. Here’s what we’re going to do. This tail is going to slide off of you, and then we’re going to get to the shore before ‘she’ finds us. Then you’re going to do a cool TV-guy trick and we’ll be on land, with hundreds of people clapping and saying, ‘You just got jipped!’ or something stupid like that. Understand?”

While she spoke, she noticed the way his eyes watched her lips, as if he were reading them. She stopped talking and his eyes flickered to hers. “Are you deaf?”

He shook his head. “Ah…no, I’m not deaf. My ears are just not as…enhanced, as they are underwater.” She bit her lip, hating how believable he was.

She decided to play along. It would help distract them both from what she was doing. “Why aren’t you in water?” She touched his hip again, trying to find a flap of material that would reveal the beginning of the suit. As her fingers smoothed over the skin, she couldn’t for the life of her find the end—or beginning.

A deep exhalation feathered over the top of her head and she looked up again—

And was struck by the intensity of his gaze. He pointedly looked between her and her hand, and she slowly removed it. “Why?” she asked again, taking the hint. She took her hand away and knelt in front of him, unable to stop her gaze from traveling over his tail.

Like the moss, there were veins filled with glowing light traveling in intricate designs. The length of it was as long as she was, and the fin of the tail was…like a cloud. It was close enough that she could feel the moisture around it, and close enough for her to see that it wasn’t actually a cloud, but a very filmy, thin fin. The whole of it was a soft blue, almost turquoise, but the ends were shriveled, as if it were dried out.

The rest of the tail was turquoise as well, but a darker shade. It led to a nicely curved butt, and then to lean hips that were connected to an amazing torso. He was, quite possibly, the largest man she’d ever seen in her life. Compared to her brothers, and even WWE wrestlers that she’d seen on TV because of them, that was saying something.

She bet that if he stood to his full height, he’d be near seven foot— and completely filled out. His arms were the size of her thighs, shoulders as wide as a doorway, and hands as big as basketballs. Despite his size, as she sat next to him and ran her hands all over him like some horny freak—which she totally wasn’t—Mari didn’t feel an ounce of fear.

How could she, when the whole time he had been pushing her away and telling her to leave for her own safety?—Even as he sat there, obviously in pain. Her heart turned over, and she nearly forgot that this was all a dream. The look in his eyes, while direct and strong when he’d tried pushing her away, was filled with defeat. Like someone had stripped him of all hope.

If she was leaving at all, it wasn’t going to be without him. Whoever this ‘she’ was, well… She could kiss Mari’s dainty ass. Her mama had raised her better than to leave an injured man behind, and she wasn’t going to shame her family—even if it were a dream.

“Well?” she asked. “Why aren’t you in the water?”

He shut his eyes, and for a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer her. A couple seconds later, he flicked one of them open and grated, “Do you really think I can move anywhere without making my condition worse?”

She frowned. He had a point. “What if…I tried carrying you?” The second the suggestion was out of her mouth, she realized how foolish she’d sounded. Carrying a three hundred pound man through a dark cave—sure, that sounded plausible. About as plausible as a unicorn shooting out of her head.

Mari looked around her, trying to find something that would make it easier for him to escape.

His hand touched her shoulder, making her whip around to meet his eyes. “What?”

“I can’t leave here, mortal. If she sees that I’m gone, there will be hell to pay for both of us. I can’t put that upon you,” he whispered, taking his hand back. The sorrow in his eyes stilled her. The fact that he was willing to let her go without saving himself made this moment feel…sad. Dangerous. Panicked.

“I’ll be fine. This is all a dream, so nothing can really happen to me,” she said, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice.

He smiled sadly, inching away from her again. “If this were a dream, wouldn’t you just stay here until you woke? You know this is not what you want it to be. If you want to live, you need to escape—and soon.”

The orb jumped between them, bouncing. Were they talking to each other?

Ambrose met her eyes as it skittered away, and she saw the stark fear there. Not for himself, she suspected—but for her. The way his shoulders were stooped, the way he refused to let her near him, was all she needed to know to understand that he didn’t care about himself anymore.

She gently touched his shoulder, flinching when he did. God, whatever had been done to him… Mari stared into his eyes, forcing the thoughts away. “I’m not leaving you here to be eaten by the female fish monster. All right? We’ll find a way for you to get to the water.”

“I’m not leaving here,” he said, moving out of her grasp. “Just go.”

Mari sighed and plopped her ass right next to his. “This is a dream. So I’m going to sit here until I have my way and you cooperate with me. If ‘she’ comes, then whatever. I’ll wake up soon, remember?”

As his eyes widened and met hers, she grinned mentally at herself. Reverse logic had always worked with her brothers, so of course it would with Ambrose.

His churning blue eyes morphed into stark blackness. “Fine. You die here. When she sees you, your screams will be the last thing you know.”

A chill worked its way down her back, accompanying the disbelief. All right, so it hadn’t worked the way she’d thought it would and he was just going to back off.

Great.

Just great.

She flicked her hair away from her face, climbing on her knees and facing him. “Ambrose, come on…you can’t stay here, not if you’re being abused.” There was no doubt that he wasn’t. The marks on his back were not from the cave wall, that was for sure.

His gaze hardened to the point of being stony. “What happens to me does not matter. If you want to witness a nightmare, be my guest. But it will be the last thing you see.”

She stared at him in silence, unable to think of something to say back.

Mari didn’t have a chance to respond. A second later the room began to glow red, a dark, terrifying blood red. The hardness in Ambrose’s eyes left, replaced with terror.

“Go,” he hissed, shoving her. She fell to her side, catching herself on her palms. She ignored the stinging, staring at him helplessly. Leaving him was out of the question…

The room filled with the red haze, a mist suddenly surrounding the area that they sat on.

“Get to the water,” he shouted at her, eyes flashing with pure, helpless fury.

Mari took one last look at him before the slimy hand sensation forced her back to the shore.

She didn’t fight it this time.

Ambrose could only pray to Atlantis that the woman was trying to escape while she had time, or at the very least trying to hide. It was a useless hope, but he couldn’t help it. He knew all too well how much pain would come from trying to hide from Ceto. There was nowhere in the cave that she hadn’t searched, memorized, and blocked off.

Her pet was not allowed to hide, let alone try to escape. Even if he wanted to, it was impossible. He couldn’t make it through the cave without tearing what was left of his tail off. The ground was too rough for him to crawl across, and she’d made it impossible for him to use his legs unless she gave him the permission.

How, he had no clue. All he knew was that the mortal woman had better get out of there soon, or she’d be sentenced to the same fate as him…or worse. Ceto was incredibly jealous, and always had been.

Learning that there was a mortal woman—a gorgeous mortal woman—in his cave, trying to help him escape? There was no “best case scenario” for that. He kicked out his tail gingerly, hissing in pain as it scraped against the ground before settling into the same position as it had been when she’d left.

The mist rose in the air, swirling around, slow at first. The speed kicked up, and he watched with dread as it turned into a full blown mini-tornado right before his eyes.

Rubble joined the whirling wind, and he shielded his face against the stray pieces that came at him. She loved her show, and loved giving out pain with it. When the wind died down, his fear for the mortal had grown to the point that his hands were shaking. Ceto stood in front of him with her hands seductively placed on her hips.

She walked forward with her hips moving in over-drive. He swore that if she weren’t immortal, she’d have blown out several sets of them by now.

“Oh, my dear pet. How are you this eve? Feeling well?”

He hated to admit it, but he relied on her to count his time there. She would come back with an allusion to the time of day, and that was all he had to go by. So far, from what he could tell, Ambrose had been in the cave for over two thousand years.

In the exact same spot.

With the exact same meals every day.

And the same torment every night.

Sweet Atlantis, that mortal better be long-gone…

Ceto reached behind her back, pulling out a strip of salmon meat. His stomach rolled at the site—he was hungry as hell, but the same meal every single day, for two thousand years… Ambrose pressed his lips together and met her stare straight on.

“I asked you a question,” she snarled, hand snapping out and grasping his jaw. Her nails dug into his skin, and he knew blood was beading around the perfectly polished talons. Her sweet breath fanned over his face.

Once, before he had been taken captive, he’d loved her scent. He’d loved her strength. He’d loved the fire in her eyes…until he’d realized that it wasn’t passionate fire. It had been embers born of hate and bitterness; her need for power dominating their friendship.

“I’m feeling well,” he grated, not daring to break free of her hold. She’d make his punishment worse, and any other night he wouldn’t have cared. But now he had the mortal woman watching them from the shadows, and what she would see would already be gruesome enough. No need to add onto the damage that was already planned for tonight.

Ceto waved the piece of fish in his face, swaying her hips, and kneeling above him. The v-neck dress she wore was a dark, blood red, clinging to every curve and crevice. Her cleavage swayed in front of his face, her try at tempting him.

No desire sparked. No attraction flared. Nothing.

Even the tumbling black hair that surrounded her angular face was undesirable—and Ambrose had always loved tumbling hair.

Her eyes burned with malice, and she reached out, slapping him across the face. His head snapped to the side. He cracked his jaw, absorbing the shock. Nothing new.

“Sit up, you filthy bastard,” she purred. The sudden calm washing over her gave him reason to be wary.

He did as he was told, bracing himself on his elbows and leaning forward—until the flash of blonde from behind Ceto caught his eye. He tried to keep the alarm out of his expression.

Damn it, he’d told the woman to leave! Couldn’t she follow one simple order? He was risking his life for her, though against his will, and she was just going to test the waters of how well she could play cat and mouse with them? He snarled, catching the attention of Ceto again.

“Someone is feisty tonight.” She slinked forward, letting her leg slip through the slit that ran up the center of her dress—if it could even be called that. The strip of clothing wrapped around her body, and that was all there was to it. “Are you hungry?” she asked, taking a nibble of the salmon in front of him.

What he wouldn’t give to shove that whole thing down thing down her throat and watch her choke on it…

If only he had the strength.

Ambrose had, at one point. Of course, Ceto had stripped him of it all. Thousands of years, and she still had the same hold on him that she’d had the day he’d been sentenced to exile.

“Yes,” he murmured, going along with her little game, if only for the sake of the mortal. Keep Ceto busy, and maybe the woman had a chance of being unnoticed. At the second flash of blonde, though, he wanted to growl and shout at her to stay hidden.

His heart pounded as Ceto came closer, the beating group of arteries slamming against his ribs, cutting off his breath. If anything happened to the blonde, he didn’t know what he’d do. An innocent mortal, caught in a two-thousand-year-old game between a goddess and an exiled Atlantean. Exactly what he needed to spice up his life—not.

Ceto smiled, taking his jaw in her hand again, smoothing her fingers over the marks she’d just left. “Of course you are, my poor darling.” She forced his mouth open with her fingers, tearing off a piece of salmon with her teeth and then pressed her lips to his, giving him only a bite of the salmon.

His throat muscles worked overtime on trying to hold down the bile that rose in his throat as his gag reflex triggered. It was always the same. Every time he had to be fed, he was fed by mouth. And, as if that didn’t get her off enough, she nicked his lip with a sharp fang, taking a sip of his blood.

Ambrose looked to the ceiling, praying that common sense had kicked the mortal in the head and sent her back to the shore, away from Ceto.

His breath caught. A sharp, tingling pain shot down his spine, robbing him of every sense except the agony that was building in his hips. Through the pain and transformation, he realized what was happening.

Ceto was giving him his legs, if only for a moment. How many years had it been since he’d felt the pleasure-pain that he was in now? Exhilaration coursed through him— right before her hand landed on his cock. Disgust rolled through him in waves, replacing the excitement.

Akrina buzzed at his side, whispering, “Bitch die. She drown. Then Human help escape, yes.”

He exhaled, willing it to leave his side. The Akrina dimmed with displeasure before buzzing away. The remainder of its light filled the room, the only reason he could see Ceto.

Her black hair fell around them like a shield, and he thanked Atlantis that the mortal had some sort of blockage from what was happening. His relief was cut short, however, when one of Ceto’s hands pressed against his chest and the other curled around his flaccid length, demanding he rise for the rare occasion. It was a clear sign as to what she expected from him. It rarely happened, maybe every couple hundred years, but she would give him his legs after teasing him for a long period of time, thinking that he’d be grateful.

Rarely would she lower herself to let him in her body, but the occasion came up. And what a perfect time to do it—right when the damn mortal was ogling them. He felt her eyes, felt the silvery orbs burning into them. He felt her horror, disgust, and shame at what was happening to him.

Hating himself, wishing he could either die or kill Ceto, he slid down the straps of her dress, exposing first her bare shoulders, and then the rock-hard mounds that were as fake as the hair extensions she had wore—he wouldn’t have known what they were if she hadn’t begun to brag about the human advances.

Her hand tightened painfully around him, drawing a ragged groan of pain from his chest.

“Oh, yes,” she purred, throwing the piece of salmon to the side and immersing herself in Ambrose’s hands as he forced them to move and keep down the bile at the same time. “I want not just your hands, but your mouth… Touch me, my king. Touch me and make me feel—“

A rattle shook the cave, freezing both of them. The mortal, several feet away, gasped—Ceto’s eyes flicked in that direction, right as another boom rocked around them. Ceto focused on him again and the passion-filled gaze turned to one of hate.

His body sagged with relief.

She opened her mouth to speak, but another rattle throughout the cave silenced her. Ceto’s eyes flared with fury at the disruption.

“I’ll be back,” she hissed, sliding her hand down his chest, nails slicing into his flesh, before disappearing with a whiff of mist.

And leaving him with legs.

Holy Atlantis…

The second the mist died off, the mortal shot forward, her chest pumping and eyes frantic. “You….legs. You have legs—and that—that bitch,” she snarled, fire bursting in her eyes. She came forward, kneeling beside him.

He watched the slide of her hair as it fell passed her shoulder, around her face. Ceto had left him with legs. With a chance to escape without killing himself.

The akrina zipped beside him, jittering like it was on coral. “Bitch gone. Legs now. Leave with Human!”

“Yes,” he murmured, trailing his eyes over the mortal’s enraged features…and seeing the concern there.

Concern that no one had ever given him, concern that he’d never deserved. This mortal woman had witnessed only a slice of what Ceto did to him. What would she think if she knew the rest?

His body shuddered, reality sinking in. Ceto had left him with legs, and he could rely on the human to get to the water. “Help me up—please.” He wasn’t going to order her around, not when her eyes were beginning to redden with unshed tears.

He blanched. “I said please. You wanted to get out of here, correct? We can do that now—I just need some help getting to my feet. It’s been…”—almost four hundred years?—“a while since I’ve been on two legs.”

The mortal continued to stare at him, tears lining her silvery eyes, and his heart began to pound. “We don’t have time,” he said, beginning to struggle to his knees. Sweet Atlantis, they ached like nothing ever had before. His kind were used to prolonged absences of their human qualities, but this was bordering on over-doing it, especially with how weak he already was.

Which was why Ceto had probably thought it was safe to leave him with legs. He was too weak to walk on his own—even now, he could feel his legs start to shake from the effort. In a couple of hours, his system would kick in and he would be perfectly fine. But, in just that same amount of time, Ceto would be back and it would be too late to leave.

“Here, slide your arm around my shoulder.” The mortal moved into action, kneeling on his left side. He brought his arm up, hating how hard it was to even lift that. Shame made the shaking worse, but he forced it down.

Leaving was his main concern, and getting the mortal to help him was proving to be damaging enough. Was she disgusted at having to touch him?

“I’m going to stand up, and you’re going to brace yourself against the wall.”

He nodded, his jaw brushing against the softness of her hair. His eyes briefly closed at the sensation.

Human contact. Gentle contact, helping. How long had it been since someone had helped him? Choking on emotion, he allowed the mortal to aid him, doing as she said and placing his arm against the wall, leaning back from her only for a second.

It was then that he noticed what she was wearing. Before, he’d been too focused on the fact that there was a living, breathing soul in his cave after thousands of years, and the fact that she hadn’t listened to him when he’d told her to leave.

Sweet Atlantis, she was wearing less than what his kind did. At least with them the scale-covering wrapped around their waists and breasts. Whatever the mortal was wearing, it barely did that.

The thin, black scraps of material stretched over tan skin, her breasts barely fitting into them. Ambrose couldn’t help the way he noticed their size, how lush they looked, or how…filling they appeared, how supple. The string of material laced its way down her back, a small black triangle covering the juncture of her thighs. Her legs were long and toned with fine muscle; her waist was tiny, delicate, just as her arms, neck, and shoulders were. All in all, she was completely woman and wasn’t hiding that.

He swallowed hard, forcing the desire away.

He currently had no trousers or tail, and therefore no protection against her gaze. If she saw a certain thing rising to the occasion, she’d drop him like a rock and leave him. The thought instantly stilled any hard-on he might have had.

She stood, a unique scent wafting from her. It nearly cost him a trip, but he recovered. The mortal…was quiet. Strange. Her earlier enthusiasm was absent as she got him to his feet, but he didn’t dare comment on it.

He was bent to half his height when she was standing straight, and it would have been laughable if the moment had permitted it. He took a breath, nerves jacking up like someone had hooked him up to a sting-ray.

So close to being free. So close to leaving. But what of the mortal? He vaguely remembered the entrance to the cave, and it was completely submerged in water.

Ambrose gazed at her, breathing heavily, trying to make his muscles catch up with what was happening. She wouldn’t be able to make it out of the cave without an air supply, and he had no way to give her one.

An idea struck him—a dangerous one.

Her voice, when it broke into his thoughts, was soothing. He suspected it was such without her trying. The way she moved, the set of her eyes—she was the epitome of a gentle-woman, except for her weird talk of cameras and TV, whatever those were.

And, of course, her disobedience. The thought had his lips thinning, but he wouldn’t dwell on such thoughts. Not right now, at least.

“Can you walk?” she asked, her voice washing over him like a cool wave.

“…yes,” he said hesitantly.

Silver eyes snapped to his. “Are you sure? It will only take longer to leave if I have to help you to your feet again because you lied to me.”

“I don’t lie,” he grated, anger flashing through him.

She stared at him for a moment longer, before nodding shortly. “Good. Then let’s go. If you need to, we can walk along the wall so you can lean against it.”

His shoulder throbbed in protest and he shook his head. “No, take the most direct path. The sooner I get to the water, the better.” And the sooner we can take care of your oxygen problem…

“All right,” she said tentatively, beginning to walk. His legs shook with the effort that it took to keep up, and he was grateful that her shoulder offered the strength it did. He hated himself for having to rely on a female mortal—to any man of his kind, it would have been the ultimate shame.

But he had no choice, and this woman was his only way to escape—and he, her only chance at survival.

Ceto would be back soon. The Gods only called on her for fleeting missions, so all he could do was pray that they had enough time to transform, leave, and then get far away enough that they had an advantage point over her.

He almost smiled at the turn his thoughts were taking. Two thousand years in a cave hadn’t taken away his warrior skills, and for that he was grateful.

Moments later, though it felt like ages, they were nearing the water. His akrina was bumbling beside them like a mad-thing, light pulsing excitedly and brighter than it had ever been before.

“We’re almost there,” she said quietly, her voice showing the strain he was putting on her. Guilt flared in his chest, tightening his airway. What if she didn’t receive him when they got to the shore?

Ambrose was not going to leave the woman here, no matter what. If he had to force her, he would. Doing that would be better than leaving her to Ceto’s wrath. Ambrose was worried, though. She was weak from helping him, and she needed as much strength as she could get for what he was going to do.

“I can make it from here,” he said, retracting his arm. Honestly, strength was coming back to him in waves, a lot quicker than he had anticipated.

She studied him, skeptical.

“I can,” he insisted.

She grasped his hand. “Fine, but I’m not letting you go completely.”

Ambrose should have pulled away, should have felt that shiver of disgust that he normally did whenever Ceto touched him, but he didn’t.

The mortal’s hand was soft, welcoming, with no intent to hurt him. Her nails weren’t claw-like, weren’t digging into his skin, and her mouth…wasn’t sneering. Or smirking. It was set in hard lines, but he could still see the softness of it.

She wasn’t a hateful person, he thought, heart thudding in his chest. She was a mortal woman, helping a monster like him escape a cave.

“Carefully,” she warned, tugging him along gently. “The ground is filled with fish skeletons.” The mortal gave him a pointed look.

His cheeks darkened. “Ceto’s doing, not mine.”

“Mhmmm…Sure.” She smiled at him, lessening the embarrassment.

He stopped, staring at her.

“What? Are you okay?”

How could he tell her that she shouldn’t be so nice to him? That he didn’t deserve her kindness? His jaw tightened.

He couldn’t, or she wouldn’t help him. And he was not going to stay with Ceto any longer.

“I’m fine. I need to get to the water, though.”

“Oh, right. C’mon. We’re really close, just turn the corner with me… There you go,” she said coaxingly. He felt his knees knock, and not because of how hard it was to walk.

Her voice was so gentle…

They rounded the corner, and for the first time in two thousand years he saw water. He saw salvation. He saw the exit to the hell-hole he’d been living in for most of his life. And he knew then, without a doubt, that he would not ever come back. The second his feet touched the water, he was free. Ceto had kept him in the far reaches of the cave just for that reason—and he would kill her with his bare hands the second she tried to force him back.

His chest filled with something that felt like…hope. Dropping the soft hand that had guided him, Ambrose stalked to the water, power rushing through him as the salty air hit his nose and washed over his body.

This was his home. This was where he belonged.

The ocean. The only welcoming body he’d ever met.

Ambrose paused. Inhaled. Turned to look at the mortal. Then took his first step into the water.

Oh, fuck—

A screamed ripped from his throat, fire shooting through his veins. He fell into the water, and he vaguely sensed the mortal crying out, rushing to his side.

“Ambrose!” she gasped.

He barely noticed. Something touched his shoulder, turned him over. The water invaded his senses, overtaking him. It surrounded him, completed him, ravaged him in ways he’d never felt before.

His muscles convulsed, and before he knew it—

Thump. Whoosh.

“Ambrose?”

He opened one eye, meeting the mortals terrified gaze.

“Your…your tail. It’s back,” she said, voice dripping with remorse.

Joy spread through him. The ocean greedily stroked its way up his fin, to his hips. For the first time in thousands of years, there was no pain. There was no fear or aching. Everything felt perfect.

And all because of the mortal…

He rolled onto his arms, grabbing her wrists. She was kneeling in front of him, right off the shore, her supple breasts pressing together right in front of his face.

Ambrose couldn’t help the smirk, nor could he help dragging her forward. This was his element, and he hadn’t felt this strong in…forever. The powers that Ceto had stolen from him were returned through his connection with the ocean.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” she asked.

He pulled her in so close that he could see the vein thumping in her throat, could see the way she swallowed thickly, and could smell her strange scent.

“Mortal,” he murmured, sliding his hands up her arms. Whatever possessed him to touch her, he wanted to thank. His stomach was not revolting at the action, which was good, because he had to touch her for what he was about to do.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice but a wisp of air, worry laced through it.

“Tell me your name.” He willed the akrina to dim, making it float around Mari in a soothing, compelling motion.

Her lashes fluttered with confusion. Such long, dark lashes, sweeping over lightly freckled cheeks. He almost smiled.

“Marisabel, but I go by Mari…”

‘Of the beautiful sea,’ he thought, suddenly having no qualms over what he was about to do. Her name and its meaning was proof enough that Fate was pushing them to escape, and this was the only way to do it.

“Well, beautiful Mari, I think it’s time that we leave this place, no?”

She blinked, seeming to snap herself out of a stupor. “Yeah… Yeah, it is… Your tail is glowing really bright, did you know that?”

He did, but he didn’t say so.

Instead, he pushed his hand behind her neck, threading his fingers into the thick blonde locks and dragging her face next to his. “Take a deep breath, Marisabel, and close your eyes.”

She did as he said, following blindly. Her lashes swept over her cheek bones, and he slowly pulled her closer, his shoulders coiling, muscles bunching, getting ready for the attack.

As a burst of light shot from behind him, he jerked Mari into the water, wrapping her in his arms, propelling them into the deeper part of the exit. She didn’t say a thing, her head falling back limply, body sliding against his.

Swallowing, expecting some form of revulsion to shake him, he pushed his hand into her hair again, tilting her head upwards. As his breath feathered over her lips, he felt nothing except predatory completion.

Her lips parted on their own accord, and he closed his eyes.

His mouth covered hers with a groan, and the water around them began to bubble, frothing and foaming. The salty water heated, stinging his skin. As he pressed his open mouth to hers, her tongue met his—

And a tiny part of his soul, the smallest of slivers, left his body with a sigh…and entered Marisabel’s.

Still pressing his mouth to hers, he submerged them under the surface of the ocean…and didn’t pull back until he felt the change begin.

Kai, Servant of the King, and Shepherd of Souls, picked up the water-resistant, leather-bound book and watched as the pages floated open. The ink, magically protected by the powers he contained, glistened. The inscription was delicate and elegant, the words of thousands of years spaced on the waving pages.

The words of kings, knights, and law. All contained in the book.

Stringing from the back of it, the Soul of the Sea undulated behind it, connected to the stone perch that it was bound to. It would forever connect the Book of the Sea to the pillar; should anything happen to it… A shiver slid down his back. Well, he wouldn’t think about that.

His eyes traveled along the walls and entrance, making sure no guards were peeking in on what he was doing.

The marble room was closed-off from the public, the temple created in honor of the Gods and the Book of Souls. It was as big as the throne room, but filled with jewels and gold, adorned with teal and silver curtains in honor of the God that had begun the Book. The ocean floor was covered with white marble plating and lined with teal inscriptions that spoke of the Ancient Warriors, the first of the Atlanteans. At mid-day, the sun shone the brightest through the diamond dome that was in the center of the ceiling.

It was a dazzling sight, one that he was surrounded with at that moment, but it did not take away the urgency or anticipation he was feeling.

“Arigslo magnacia.” He murmured the ancient words, awakening the Book, air bubbles wrapping around the it like a lover’s caress. It thrummed in his hands, light pouring from the pages. His arms heated from the strength of it, but he ignored it. The task at hand was too important to worry about such small things.

A rift had occurred somewhere. He’d felt the change only moments ago when sitting beside his Lord and Lady. It was a chilling feeling, one he had not experienced in ages.

The King had understood and given him leave. Now Kai stood there, above the Book of Souls, and he could only pray that it contained the answers he sought. The sensation had been one of pure menace, a threat to the sea that he recognized all too clearly.

Whatever had caused it, however, was another matter.

The pages flipped open, back and forth, pushing through the water with a speed that showed its worry. Many thought that the Book of Souls was just that…a book. A book given to them by a stranger, a book that held the fables of old and the lies of knights.

He knew differently.

The Atlantean Gods had graced his people with this book in the hopes of keeping a repeat of The Destruction from happening. They’d placed inside of it the greatest known tales of the Atlanteans and their law. They’d given their new king direction, and the Royal Family was once again restored to its true power.

Only he knew the truth, a curse that he had lived with since the beginning of time.

The pages continued to flip, reading what he felt and trying to find an answer, when he saw something that chilled him to his very soul. Never before had this occurred, not even when The Destruction had befallen them.

Black streams and blood-red splotches were surrounding the Soul of the Sea, orbiting the thread like a galaxy of threats and discord. Panic assailed him, a fear unlike any he had ever felt before causing his chest to seize and his lungs to freeze.

“No,” he whispered, shock ridding him of rational thought. “This…this cannot be. Not now, not when things are so prosperous.”

But alas, the proof was in front of him. The Soul of the Sea was blackening right before his eyes, and he had no clue—

The pages stopped flipping.

In the dim aquatic glow of the spacious room that honored the book, the pages that it had spread open to were blinding. He could barely believe what he was seeing, but as he registered the words and their meanings, the danger was prominent.

And…good. Desired.

Kai could not comprehend why he felt this way, but as the story began to unfold before his eyes, the tale of a deceived king whose life was stolen from him by the jealousy of one woman…the redemption at the end of the tale was patent.

The Book floated out of his hands. Projecting the story as clear as if he were there, he saw what was to come, and saw that the Sea was not in danger…but someone just as important was.

The sole heir, the First Ruler, and the man who had caused so much destruction and pain, that he’d been shunned by the very people he had sought to protect.

He was pressed against a strange cave wall, shoulders shredded and once-finely trimmed hair falling around his face in thick, unkempt waves. The desolation in his eyes was heart wrenching, and Kai suddenly felt a need to attack something, anything. By one look into his soul, Kai knew his past, his future, and his present.

He had not deserved this punishment, or any of the things that had been done to him. His instinct to protect his people had thrown him to the darkest pits of the sea, so far back that before this sudden rift, he had been untraceable… But then, Kai was like the rest of them.

He’d shunned the man, not knowing the why or how, only understanding that he had cost them their home and their kingdom and countless lives. Shame rocked him through and through. In the mid-years of his life, the Shepherd powers had been weak, and he hadn’t been able to tell the truth from lies; he hadn’t been able to tell the mistaken from the understood.

Because of their ignorance, this man had been tortured…and still held the blame of thousands on his shoulders when it was not his guilt to bare.

Kai’s eyes narrowed as the image transformed, and long, flowing blonde hair penetrated his view, overtaking the scene and morphing it into something that not even Kai could have predicted with his years of knowledge.

Astonishment held him frozen.

The Sea was most definitely not in any danger.

As the vision progressed, he knew for a fact that change was coming, and it was coming fast. He only had to worry about the state of the man that sat on the Atlantean throne at this moment, and all would be well, in place. Kai would feel guilt at his disloyal thoughts to the man who had become his friend, but he was the Shepherd. It was his duty, and always had been, to carry out the will of the Sea.

If this was what it wanted from him, then he was loathe to deny it. All would be ready for their arrival.

That is, if the couple survived the bleak storm that was coming their way.

The Book of Souls had reason to be scared; he just prayed to the gods that they took mercy on the poor couple who had a dangerous journey ahead of them.

Ambrose inhaled sharply as he pulled back from the soft, pliant lips, eyes wide and body thrumming. She was limp in his arms, head lolling back, hair floating around her face in a golden halo.

She convulsed in his arms, eyes popping wide open as she looked through him, their gaze completely glazed over. His hands wrapped around her shoulders as they jerked; it was nearly impossible to keep her in his arms, but he couldn’t let her go. If he broke the connection with her, he knew the transformation would halt right then, killing her.

Her lips parted and she gasped, sucking in gulping breaths and then coughing right after. She cried out through her garble. Ambrose listened helplessly, barely able to watch what was happening to her, knowing that he had been the one to cause her pain.

Just like everyone else you’ve ever met, this mortal is no different, his mind whispered.

She screamed in his ear, taking his breath away. Gods, the pain—the utter agony—that he heard.

Shame flowed through him just as surely as a sliver of his soul was flowing through her. The change was beginning and the force of the shuddering was enough to nearly pitch her out of his arms. Ambrose shot forward, clenching her against him and beginning to realize that maybe this had been a horrible idea.

Ambrose stared down at her, instincts kicking in that he had believed long dead.

Protect. Hide and protect.

He had to get them to safety, and soon. If any sort of danger came upon them, he wouldn’t be able to do a thing without killing her.

“Please!” she gasped, her hands snapping around his neck, nails spearing his shoulders. He grunted as they dug into already torn flesh, but he couldn’t blame her. He deserved every ounce of pain for what he had done to her.

“Shh, just let it come,” he cooed, quickly swimming through the water. The beginning was almost complete. She was close to growing her fin and he had to find a place where she could safely complete the transformation. Thousands of years later, he still remembered the myths of the ancients, and he knew that this was only the beginning of a painful end.

Because Ambrose had planted a piece of his own soul inside her, he now felt the pull of the transformation coming from him, drawing on his strength. The burning sensation that was climbing up his fin, through his tail, was enough to tell him that she was beginning to transform. He had no clue how long it would take for the fin to fully form, but he knew it wouldn’t be too long.

Grasping her shoulders and adjusting her so that her legs were over his arm and her face was buried in his neck, he grimaced as her hands once again clawed down his shoulders.

You deserve it. You’ll always deserve it.

Ambrose ignored the taunting whisper, focusing on what he had to do now. It was hard, with her fingers digging into exposed muscle, but he managed to clear his mind.

Shelter. Had to find it soon.

As he swam through the water, it seemed like they’d traveled over miles of coral, but in truth it was only a couple hundred yards. Soon enough, Ceto would realize they were gone and—hopefully, by that time they would have found shelter and he’d have regained some of his strength—which even now, he could feel growing inside of him.

Ambrose grinned, reveling in the thrill of power that had been absent for so long.

Now that they were out of the cave, he felt the ocean reviving him, purifying him. Even with the mortal Mari drawing on his own Atlantean strength to complete her change, he felt the rush.

The adrenaline.

The control.

The all-consuming revival that he hadn’t felt in thousands of years. Emotion sealed his throat shut. Ambrose hadn’t been this close to freedom in all his life. With the pressure of his people, the Destruction, and then being exiled…

This was heaven...until Mari screamed, her legs jerking in his arm. He smoothed his hand down her back, trying to find some way to calm her through the transformation while scanning the garden of coral—

There! Only a couple yards away from them was a patch of black, a hole in the coral: the perfect coverage for them to wait out in. The woman in his arms screeched again, the sound ripping through the water as nothing ever had before.

His heart turned over as he forced himself to swim faster. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tracing her twisted features with his eyes before jerking forward and plunging them into the hole. He swam with his tail pointing toward the ground, tentatively searching for the floor. Several feet down, his tail brushed against a patch of sand.

“Akrina,” he called out. Ambrose only had to wait a second before the thing popped up with a pulse of light. “There you are,” he said, making sure to add a little bit of relief to his voice for the sake of the akrina.

“Sealed cave. Bitch not there. Human and king safe.”

“I’m proud of you.” It glowed brightly with happiness, just like he’d wanted. “Will you morph and find us something to eat? Some fruit, if you can find it. I don’t want her to wake up on an empty stomach.”

His only companion for two thousand years bounced in front of him, as loyal as any creature he’d ever met before. “Bring peaches. Love peaches. Akrinos stay.”

Ambrose smiled with encouragement. “Good. Now go, and hurry back.”

The akrina split into two orbs of light, the original flouncing off while the miniature version stayed in place beside him. He touched it gently, urging it to brighten. Unlike its counterpart, akrina, the miniature light that she’d left behind was not advanced enough to speak. Encouragement and touch activated the akrinos.

It glowed and illuminated the hole.

Thick walls made of coral surrounded them, the hole long-ago settled. Starfish were the only living things in the there, sticking to the floor and walls. One of them settled right beside him, close enough that one of its tube feet reached out and latched onto him. He tightened his arms around Mari, curling his tail under his hips and floating to the ground, moving inches away from it.

The mortal withered, her body so stiff that it wouldn’t comply with his position. “Just…kill me,” she groaned. The pain was so intense that her lips peeled back from her teeth, lines stretching over her face.

Ambrose had never felt like such a bastard in all his life. The pain he had forced on her was so great that she wished death, and he was not man enough to grace her with that demand. He closed his eyes against her pain.

“Ambrose,” she growled. Her claw-like nails dug into his shoulders again and his lips tightened.

“I’m sorry, Marisabel, but I cannot. And won’t. Just accept the change and it will hurt so much less…” It was the truth. The more she struggled, the more his powers had to work to complete the transformation, and the more they had to ravage her body to get the job done. He slid a hand down her back, willing soothing heat to spread from his palm into her body, doing what he could to soothe the pain.

For a second, all he heard from her was the ragged sound of her breathing, and all he felt from her were the convulsions of her body.

“What did you do to me?” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“I saved you,” he said simply, hiding his emotions. He would not add to her distress by expressing his own. The akrinos buzzed beside him, vying for attention, but he shied away from it. Mari needed his attention more than the akrinos.

The thing flashed him in the face as a sign of retaliation, and then settled upon Mari’s chest. She jerked in his arms, eyes widening with fear.

“It will not hurt you,” he murmured, smoothing her hair back with a trembling hand. “Just quiet down and be still. The change will begin soon…”

And it did. Seconds later, a scream ripped from her throat and her back arched to the point of nearly snapping in half. Her face was flushed to a near purple, her knuckles were white, and her legs…disappeared. No longer were her feet kicking through the water, instead laying there limply as the transformation progressed.

He watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as a web-like covering wrapped around her delicate feet, the lacy substance binding her feet together so strongly that Mari had no chance of ripping. The pain-ridden scream turned to one of panic and hysteria, and Ambrose closed his eyes, wishing he could do something, anything.

But he couldn’t. Not while this was happening.

Mari struggled in his arms, trying to break free as she screamed and cried, but he wouldn’t let her go. The webbing curled over her calves and thighs, spreading over every square inch of her flesh and invading, burrowing in deep. Blood sprung from the pores of her pale skin, seeping out of the webbing and then mixing into the water as red tendrils.

The sight was almost too gruesome to watch, but he did. If anything should go wrong during the transformation, it would be all his fault for not supervising and healing her. The sound of snapping bones carried through the water with lightning quick speed, his inhuman ears catching it at an abnormally high squeal.

His teeth ground together..

Mari cried out again. Her arms waved around wildly, the web covering beginning to attack her forearms with vigor. Blood sprung from the pores on her arms, just as it had with her legs, which were now enfolded in the slimy wrap.

He watched with mute horror as it began to take over in parts that he hadn’t planned on. Ambrose didn’t have scale covering on his arms, and neither did Ceto. The only Atlantean he had ever known to have forearm braces was his mother, and she was long-dead.

“Sweet Atlantis,” he murmured, reaching out and sliding his hand over her forearm.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, her face contorting with pain. He yanked his hand away, blanching.

“Mari, I’m so sorry… So, so sorry…”

“Just make it stop!” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck forcefully, right before yanking them away as her eyes flared open. The sensitivity in her arms must be agonizing, he thought numbly, helpless.

“I can’t, I’m sorry…. Please, be quiet. It will end soon enough, much quicker if you don’t make so much sound. Mari, listen to me—I’m only trying to help!” She struggled in his arms, fighting against him with every bit of strength she had.

“I don’t want your help,” she snarled through clenched teeth, slamming her head back into his arm as she shuddered once more. He felt something rub against fin, and moved it out of the way—until he realized what it was.

Mari’s tail.

A golden, luminescent tail that was shimmering in the darkness of the hole. He gasped, looking between Mari’s flushed face and the large, golden expanse of fin that was flapping frantically against his, like it had a mind of his own and didn’t know what to do.

He froze. Groaned. “Don’t…touch me there, Mari. Bad idea, really bad idea.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you fish-freak!” she screamed, face mimicking that of a woman giving birth. Even from years without witnessing a birthing, he could remember all too well the screams of the pregnant women—and Mari sounded like she was going through the same experience as them.

He didn’t point out to her that she was now a “fish-freak,” too. Ambrose stayed silent and held onto her, adjusting her so that their fins were no longer rubbing against each other. As he moved her around, his hand slipped down her spine and trailed over her bottom—and he felt them.

The scales.

Willing the akrinos close—it had buzzed away when she’d started screaming—Ambrose gazed at the tail and froze.

Gold. Pure, shimmering gold. Whereas his tail was turquoise with the royal coloring, Mari’s was the color of…the gods. He had only met one group of beings with golden scales, and they had been the one to exile him after The Destruction.

The Gods. They knew that he had escaped, and they were punishing him in the form of Mari. But how? He shoved her out of his arms, watching her tumble to the sandy ground. She whimpered, struggling to her hands.

“What are you?” he asked, his voice rumbling. The akrinos zipped behind him, out of the path of his fury.

She was silent. Laying there, panting, her body shuddering from what she had just gone through, Ambrose felt a wrath he had never felt before. Even with all of the shit that had been done to him during his lifetime, nothing topped what he felt right now.

Being exiled, tortured by Ceto, losing his powers? None of that could compare to what he felt. The gods had sent Mari to free him—only to trick him and…what? What had been the point of sending her?

Was she going to bring him back to his kingdom so he could be tortured for returning after being exiled? Was she there to seduce him and finally kill him? Ceto had learned soon on that she could not kill him. Even as a goddess, she had never been able to take his life.

Though she had tried. Years and years of trying had proved that he was, in every sense of the word, immortal. Cut him into pieces? They grew back. Chop his tail off? It grew back. Take any part of his body, and it grew back.

And now, there was Mari, whose golden tail was proof that the gods were out to get him. This strange woman had helped him escape, and now she was going to…do what, exactly?

Her pained eyes met him from across the short distance, terror embedded in their silver depths. “What did you do to me?” she gasped, wrapping her arms around herself as the scale covering continued to invade very part of her skin that had bled. The scales seemed to flip up from underneath her skin, like the set of dominos that Ceto had once brought to him years ago when she hadn’t been so cruel.

“Didn’t you plan on this?” he snarled, yanking his fin away from her when she reached out to him, her eyes showing the torment she was feeling. A moan bubbled out of her throat.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean… Please, Ambrose, whatever you did to me”—her voice cracked and she gasped for breath—“make it stop.”

His mouth lifted into a sneer, even as his chest began to fill with sorrow. He could sense the pounding of her heart, and didn’t know whether to attribute it to the fact that she was possibly lying to him, or just going through the agonizing transformation.

Her eyes reddened and she lifted a hand to her cheeks, as if searching for tears.

She choked on a sob and covered her face. “It hurts. Take it away…”

If she really were with the gods, she would not be feeling this. They contained the powers to heal at will, and it took an enormous amount of damage to make them feel pain like she was.

Ambrose crept forward, reaching out a hand, eyes narrowed. Mari had shown real concern for him in the cave, had stayed when Ceto had appeared, and had helped him to the water. It might all be an act—she could have easily taken Ceto if the goddess had spotted her, if Mari really were of the gods—but he sensed that Mari was true at heart, more than any person he had met before.

She grasped his hand, breathing a sigh of relief before her body seized up, her shoulders bunching behind her and as a heart-wrenching whimper burst from her throat.

“What did you mean?” she asked, her voice thin, the life completely drained out of her.

In front of him, her full-blown, golden-scale tail waved in front of him, gently weaving through the water even as her upper body convulsed.

“Nothing, Mari. Just breathe…”

“In the water?” she asked, right before her eyes popped open wide. A crazed look entered her eye right before her face puffed up.

“What are you doing?” He frowned, debating whether he should reach out and touch her cheeks. Ambrose had no clue why, but he liked how she felt, how she didn’t scorn his touch—unlike Ceto, who hated him so much that she had to be the one to start the sex. If he ever touched her when it wasn’t warranted, there was hell to pay.

With Mari, though… Even when she was in pain, she accepted him. He tightened his hand around hers and she looked at him with frantic eyes, cheeks still puffy.

She pointed at her throat, wiggling around until she was sitting on her ass. Apparently, the pain was forgotten and she was…trying to draw a picture with her hands? His frowned deepened. “Marisabel. I don’t know what you’re trying to show me…”

Frustration had her face turning pink, or was that because she wasn’t breathing? Her cheeks expanded even bigger.

Ambrose started to pull away. “If you didn’t want me to touch you, you could have—“

“Drowning!” The word exploded from her mouth before she went back to being a puff-fish.

He stared at her. “Drowning? Marisabel, you cannot drown. You breathe water now, just inhale—“

Her head shook frantically, wisps of golden hair floating up behind her. The akrinos zigzagged its way around her, the light dimming and brightening repeatedly with its excitement.

Mari grasped his hand, and he startled—right before she shoved his hand over her mouth and blew water on it. Slowly, understanding dawned on him. The mortal thought that she was still an air-breather, and that she still needed oxygen.

Right then, for the first time in two thousand years, he burst out laughing. The sound was rough and shocked even himself, but he couldn’t stop the explosion. After so long, his first laugh was at a mortal, who was now an Atlantean, and who thought she was drowning.

Still laughing, he reached up and pressed both hands to her cheeks, pushing. The water blew out of her with a gust and she gasped, eyes stricken.

“I’m going to die if you don’t—wait…”

Realization entered her eyes right as he burst into deep, all-consuming guffaws again. “You can speak and breathe perfectly fine, mortal!” Ambrose grabbed at his stomach, the sensation so strange he didn’t know how else to react except laugh some more.

Mari stared at him, then opened her mouth. Sucked in water. Her face crinkled like she expected herself to cough, and when she didn’t, the surprise he saw in her eyes set another round of laughing for him.

“Oh, sweet Atlantis,” he chuckled, holding his stomach. “It hurts so good to watch you struggle.”

The surprise deflated like a popped blow-fish. Her eyes narrowed so quickly that he instantly stopped laughing and moved away from her.

“Struggle? All-fucking-right, you sadistic piece of salmon! I think I’m more than struggling right now. First off, I no longer think that this is a TV show. I think I actually died. If you’re God, and this is some sort of sick revenge for me threatening to haunt Ray? Then we have a problem. ‘Cause the God I know? He has a white beard and a robe. You don’t have a fucking robe.”

At least she isn’t crying anymore, he thought, even though he was beginning to think that he much preferred sobbing over angry hysteria.

She shoved a hand through her hair—then had to yank to get her hands out.

Her chest heaved a second before her eyes reddened.

Ambrose jumped up, grabbing her wrists and helping her untangle her hands. “There’s an oil we can get for your hair, do not worry.” He pulled her wrists to her lap, setting them there and studying her. Her irrational thought process was most likely swirling in her head as they sat there, which he was grateful for. Half of the things she talked about when she raged, Ambrose didn’t understand.

Her shoulders fell and the thumping of her tail slowed. The shimmering fin was curled up, as if it didn’t have the will to let its beauty flare in the dank hole that they were resting in.

“Did she find us?” she mumbled, head facing the ground.

“Ceto? No, she did not. But that doesn’t mean we should stop and assume we are safe. Are you tired?” he asked, brows lowering with concern. Her face was pale and her red eyes still hadn’t returned to their normal whiteness.

She shook her head. “The farther we get away from this place, the better.” Mari began to sit up, and Ambrose once again rushed to her side, taking her arm, forcing himself not to ask himself why he was being so touchy with her.

Damn, but did her arm feel smooth and delicate under his roughened palm…

Her head lifted and their eyes met. Ambrose froze. Maybe he should learn better restraint; obviously he’s repulsive to her…

The soft touch of her palm on his bicep made him flinch, before he realized that she wasn’t retaliating. With a breath of relief, he pushed up from the ground and dragged her with him, letting her lean into his chest when she needed to.

“Why do I feel so—“ Her question cut off so quickly, he would have thought she’d disappeared had she not been in his grasp. He glanced at her and paused, frowning.

“Are you alright?”

Her head slowly shook. “No, no I’m not alright. Ambrose. I have a tail. A friggin’ tail.”

He nodded. “Yes, you do. Didn’t you notice it before?” How could she not have? The thing glowed almost brighter than the akrinos.

“I was... I did,” she admitted, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Just hoped that it was a hallucination or something.”

He patted the scale brace on her arm. “No, it is not a hallucination. It’s very much real,” he said, swimming upward and urging her to follow him with his hand.

She slowly followed him. Ambrose forced himself to be patient. The mortal was as unused to her new appendage as a merbaby was, so he had to take it carefully. Overwhelming her with too much at once would make her easily worn out, and they didn’t have time for that.

He would have much more preferred to just let her stay there and rest, give her a moment to get accustomed to her tail, but they didn’t have that kind of time. They were barely a couple miles away from the cave and even though it didn’t feel like it, hours had passed. The sun was dimming and casting less light into the water than it had before, giving him reason to worry.

Sure, akrina was enough light to get them farther away, but she needed rest and when she was out, so was akrinos. If she suddenly decided she couldn’t go on anymore, then Ambrose and the mortal were in deep, dark trouble.

Ambrose was quickly gaining his strength back, but not at a fast enough rate to fight off the dangerous ocean creatures. The sharks, Sirens, Octopian, and Ceto were the biggest threats he could think of, and he knew that he wasn’t ready to take them on yet.

Thinking about the Octopians made him shudder. Dealing with the eight-legged Atlanteans, who could easily snap a mortal in half, was not something he looked forward to, especially not with Mari witnessing all of it...

He tightened his grip on her, dragging her behind him. When he felt her catching up with less help from him, his mouth kicked up in a half-smile and he glanced back. She was getting the hang of it perfectly—and way too seductively. Her tail was flowing behind her, shimmering like pure gold, and the fin was just as entrancing to watch. But her hips...that’s what caught his eye the most. She had a small waist, and perfectly proportioned chest. It only emphasized how womanly she moved, even when learning how to swim.

“Am I doing it right?” she asked, nervously biting her lip.

Ambrose forced himself to tear his eyes away from her body. “You’re doing wonderfully, Marisabel.”

He watched with fascination as her cheeks turned pink—and not from crying. A smile started to curl her bow-shaped lips. “Thank you...even though I’m definitely not okay being a fish.” She glared at him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, instantly feeling like he’d been kicked in the jaw. God, he’d ruined her life while she’d saved his. What kind of repayment was that?

“Well...We’ll figure it out.” The look in her eyes said she believed otherwise, and he almost started to apologize before she said, “And don’t call me Marisabel, I haven’t heard that name since I was ten and my mother found me dangling from the tree by my feet because my brothers thought they’d turn me into a literal bell, dangling from the tree. It was the worst April Fool’s prank ever.”

“April Fools prank?” He frowned. “I haven’t heard of this. Explain.”

“You know there are twelve months a year, right?”

Ambrose nodded his answer.

“Okay, well the first day of April is basically where everyone plays tricks on each other, doing things that would normally freak other people out and then telling them it was just a prank.” She shrugged, flipping her tail hard to boost her way closer to him.

She took his hand and it made his heart stop. After everything, she still touched him.

Ambrose glanced away from her, hiding the relief in his eyes. Why it mattered to him at all, he didn’t know.

“Anyways,” she murmured, her hip brushing against his as they swam, “Where are we going? Do you have any specific destination in mind?”

“Ah...no,” he said, running a hand over his jaw. Where was he going to take them?

He couldn’t take them to Atlantis, or anywhere close. It might have been thousands of years, his hair might reach his jaw, and the scars on his body had deformed him, but people would still recognize him, still try to kill him.

His lineage no longer mattered—his folly had been too great to redeem and the gods had abandoned him.

“That’s great,” she said dryly. He didn’t miss the sarcasm. “So we just swim away as much as we can and pray she doesn’t catch us?”

“For now? Yes. There are other places than Atlantis that we can seek shelter at. We just have to find them and pray that they still exist.”

“Atlantis?” she squeaked. “There’s actually an Atlantis? Oh my god. Oh my god. Heaven is friggin’ Atlantis?” By the time she got done waving her arms around her with her eyes going all wide and crazy, her voice was the pitch of a dolphin’s squeal and he made no qualm hiding his reaction.

Covering his ears, he said, “I realize this might be a shock, but please keep in mind that I have only heard one voice for two thousand straight years and her tone never reached above the pitch of barking seal.”

She stared at him, then quickly snapped out of her stupor. “There’s actually an Atlantis?” she asked again, this time whispering.

He dropped his hands. “Yes, there is.”

“And you lived there?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s real?”

“I believe I’ve already said this, but yes.”

“Oh my God.”

His eyes crossed. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yes! We have to go there!” she squealed, her tail starting to thump with excitement. He opened his mouth to warn her to calm down, but before he knew it, she was shooting past him and screaming her head off the whole way.

“Ambrose!” she screeched, looking backwards even though her tail was forcibly carrying her the other way.

Groaning, he followed after her. Figures that he’d be stuck with a permanently hyper mortal who couldn’t control her own damn tail.

“Coming,” he growled.

“I can’t stop this thing!” Of course she couldn’t.

“Sweet Atlantis. Maybe I should just let it carry her off?” The akrinos shot up from behind him, coming out of hiding. It bumped against his shoulder, basically telling him, “Fetch her, you fool!”

Ambrose ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right, of course.” He sighed. “If she swims too fast, she might get whiplash and, gods forbid, cry.” He snarled the last word before taking off after the runaway woman, already knowing that this was going to be a journey he’d never forget.

“Ambrose?”

He glanced at her fleetingly, still keeping his pace. The whole time they had been swimming, he had been unusually quiet. Well, not in the sense that him being talkative was normal, but his silence was unsettling. It made her want to say something, to get a conversation going, to learn.

After all, if her angel-form was a mermaid, she had to know the basics. Like what she could eat, if she could eat, where her legs went, and what the hell was going to happen with them now.

“Yes?”

She frowned at his answer. He said that word so much it seemed like it took up his vocabulary.

“What’s that thing you have? Akri—“ He held up a hand before she could butcher the name and she was grateful. Maybe she could get a conversation going with him and it wouldn’t be so awkward.

“Akrina,” he began, his informative voice somehow managing to make a shiver of something slide down her back. The orb of light in question jumped in front of them, bouncing around excitedly. She backed away from it as the memory of the slimy hand gripping her came to her. “It’s a companion that every Atlantean is graced with. It’s a gift from the gods, so that we are never truly alone, like the gods themselves are. They take the form of light so that even in the darkest reaches of the ocean, we have a light to guide us. Normally they come around when their master is just barely mature enough to handle one. I was lucky enough to get mine early.”

“You aren’t mature?” she asked, voice mild. The guy was too mature, if anything.

Ocean blue eyes landed on her squarely. “I wasn’t when I got sent to that cave. If it hadn’t been for my akrina, I would probably be insane right now.”

“Well, I already think you are insane so we must have different views,” she teased. “Why isn’t this one all grabby like the other one?”

Ambrose went back to looking straight ahead. “I sent akrina up to the surface to get something. This is her counterpart. It’s slowly growing and almost ready to be sent off to its master.” There was a sadness in his voice that had her smiling. The fact that he was going to miss the little thing was…heart-warming.

“How do they find their master? If you’re all the way out here, I don’t see how they can like, find anything.”

“They know. It’s instinctual. There’s never been an akrina to not find their master. Sooner or later, once the child reaches to a mature state of mind, the akrinos will leave us and become an akrina.”

Us. He’d said “us.” So he planned on keeping her? For some reason that she didn’t want to think too hard on, the relief had her weak in the knees—tail. Knee-tail? Mid-tail? She frowned, then shrugged.

Whatever. As long as she wasn’t left to the ocean where there were sharks and big ugly things that would gladly eat a fish like her, she was happy. It’s not like she had anywhere else to go—she was still sticking with the fact that she was dead.

A fish. She was a fish in the ocean—and she didn’t even know how it had happened.

“Ambrose?” she asked, sliding up next to him.

He looked at her with a raised eye brow.

“How did you do this to me?”

“Do what?” His brow lowered.

Mari waved a hand down her body, gesturing to her proudly waving tail. Her eyes caught on the shimmering length and it again managed to freak her out. How could anything so beautiful yet terrifying be attached to her body?

Realization dawned in his eyes. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah,” she said, pressing her lips. “Tell me how you did it and if it can be undone.”

Ambrose looked away from her, giving her all the answers she needed. “I gave you a part of myself. There isn’t a way to undo what has already been done. Every once in a while, you’ll have a period of…” he paused, cheeks darkening. “Need. We call it a females needing. It only comes every couple of months, but it’s a dangerous time for them. Your tail will turn into legs once again, and you’ll be forced to go onto land to stay safe.

“There’s a small reserved island that Atlantis protects just for that. It’s where we send our females when it happens. They normally bring a male with them for…companionship. Only when you’re experiencing your needing will you be required to stay on land.”

Mari glared at him. “So you’re saying I have to get shit-faced horny and that’s the only time I’ll get my legs back?”

He swallowed, rubbing a hand over his reddening jaw. “It’s more…more complicated than that, Mari. Ah, I think it would be best if we let a female explain this all to you, because I can’t—“

“I can go on land for a couple of hours before my legs come back, but they’ll only stay for days straight, without changing, when I’m horny,” she broke in, needing clarification.

“Please don’t say that word,” he said. His face had turned even redder, to the point of being a tanned tomato. “But…yes. That’s the gist of it. There are some other instances where they could potentially stay longer, but…I am not certain. Atlanteans never wanted to venture onto land.”

“Will it hurt to change back?” she asked, barely believing anything that was being said. On some level, it made sense, but she told herself it was her fishy side making her think that. It felt like someone had dropped her in the Twilight Zone and left her there.

“Nothing except a light tingle. The first transformation will be the only time it hurts to change.”

She nodded, then frowned. “In the cave, though. You looked like you were in a lot of pain…”

“It’s been two thousand years since I’ve been in water,” he reminded her, looking away as if the realization was too painful for him.

She stopped talking for a moment, thinking. That…was a long time. A very long time. More than any

Two thousand years with an abusive, sadistic bitch who needed to do something with her hair, and he was finally free of her. Mari, though? She was trapped in the ocean with an exiled merman.

And the sad thing was, the more time that went by, the more she started to believe that this was all real. As real as she was, as real as her tail felt and looked. Mari wasn’t dead, she wasn’t in any sort of TV show with a messed up sense of humor, and she wasn’t going insane.

This, she realized as she gazed at Ambrose, was all real.

Panic seized her, right before she jerked away from him. She couldn’t stand being near him. This was his fault. He’d changed her, he’d ruined her, and now he was going to drag her around the ocean with him until she died—

Oh god. What if she didn’t die? He was more than two thousand years old—did that mean she was sentenced to an eternity in the ocean with him? This giant, obviously powerful merman who had a demented bitch after him? This…compassionate, silent man who had been alone for so many years?

The anxiety left her in a rush, leaving her deflated. Ambrose was compassionate and kind and gentle. He couldn’t help what had been done to him, and he’d only changed her to save her life. But he had given her some useful information…

Like her legs.

What if she lived in a beach house, near the ocean? She could still see her family, still teach. Maybe only tutoring for short hours, but she could still do what she loved the most.

Mari couldn’t quit teaching. It was her job, her life. She couldn’t throw it all away just because a cruise had sunk and her life had changed forever. As the thought came to her, she knew that her rationality had left her— any sane person would have crashed and burned by now.

But the aspect of having a life…

Her family had money, she had more than enough funds in the bank, and now that her and Ray were done, he wouldn’t be mooching off of her. And her brothers would be more than fine with visiting her at a beach house; they’d been wanting to learn to surf for years.

Finally feeling a small spark of hope, she gazed at Ambrose as he swam ahead of her, about to tell him of her plan.

And then saw the state of his back.

Blood was trailing behind him, oozing from his back in thin, whispery strings. Her stomach heaved and she rushed forward, ignoring how much muscle she could see from underneath the skin that was torn away from his back.

“Ambrose! Your back! Oh my god, you’re bleeding so much. We need to stop, get this taken care of….shit, there’s so much,” she whispered, grabbing his arm.

He barely cast a glance at her, leading them over a small rift in the ground, and then swimming lower through the drop.“It’s fine, Mari. It’ll stop on its own and close. We need to keep moving.”

“No,” she said forcefully, putting a hand on his chest and making him still. She suspected he did it for her own sake; a man as big as Ambrose was could have easily forced his way past her. “This has to be cleaned up or it could get infected.”

He flashed a grin at her. Mari froze. A light entered his eyes and he looked almost…charming. She swallowed, pushing the thought out of her head. After Ray and what he had done, Mari wasn’t going to get involved with guys anymore…if she even could.

She stopped smiling.

Did fish have sex?

“The salt water is cleaning it out and we heal at very fast rates. Don’t worry about my back.” His deep, rumbling voice pulled her head out of the gutters.

A thought occurred to her. “Won’t the blood attract…sharks?” She shuddered, moving closer to him.

His head shook, and those amazingly blue eyes scanned the area. “No, it won’t. If anything, it’ll tell them to back off. Creatures of the ocean know who and what to eat, and I’m not on the menu.” Ambrose frowned. “However, I don’t know what they’ll think about you…”

She blinked. “What do you mean? I’m not shark bait, Ambrose,” she said sternly, poking a finger at his chest. “Don’t play any tricks on me!”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said, a light entering his eyes. Something told her that Ambrose had just lied to her—then she realized that he was trying to tease her. In a really mean, cruel way, but nonetheless, he was trying.

She smiled to herself. He still had the same sense of desolation surrounding him that he’d had in the cave, but he was making an effort to lighten things up. If anyone had told her that she’d be joking around with a mermaid at the bottom of the ocean a couple days ago, she would have snorted and called them insane.

But this was actually happening, and it didn’t feel fake at all.

Yeah.

Definitely real.

Shoving the thoughts that arose out of her head, Mari raised a brow at him. “Oh, yeah? I’m pretty sure the only reason you changed me was so you could have a running chance when the big sharkies attacked us.”

He held a hand to his chest—a large, thick hand against a really, sexy pectoral. Her mouth watered. “I’m offended, Mari. Maybe I wanted to throw you at the Octopian instead, since they are much more of a threat than sharks? They would relish sucking the life out of you.” Ambrose laughed shortly.

Mari hid her appalled shock. Okay, so he was really rusty on the funny aspect and awkward in an adorably gruesome way. Nice going on getting stuck with a deranged merman, Mari. Next thing you know he’s going to be shoving you into whirlpools as a prank.

“Octopian?” she asked. “I’ve never heard of them before.”

He shrugged. “Basically, they’re large Atlanteans with eight tentacles and their only source of food is us. Except they don’t really like the tail… Although they use it as a seasoning.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Ambrose shook his dark head. “I’m not. I hear they’ll leave the tail of an Atlantean out in the sun to dry off, shred it, and sprinkle it over their meals. I don’t know why they would do that because our tails are really high in fat, but,” he said nonchalantly, shrugging, “my mother always said, ‘Don’t flap it till you try it.’”

“That has got to be the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“How about you try going up shore and finding a cut off fishtail in the process of being ground?” he asked, giving her a look. “Now that is the most disgusting thing.”

Mari felt like vomiting while Ambrose only chuckled at her. “I’m kidding, Mari.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, though her stomach still rolled. Okay, that was good—

“They don’t bother to dry it out before they shave it.”

“Oh my god!” she burst out, rounding on him. Frustration through her hands in the air. “No more talking about shaving things that I now possess.”

He held up his hands in defense. “I’m just trying to tell…”

“No! I’m done!” Then she flapped away from him with short thumps against the water, huffing.

Ambrose followed behind her, and she could easily hear the laughing that he was trying to hide. She ignored it. If Ambrose was going to scare her like that and get away with it, he had another thing coming.

“They are real, you know,” he said from behind her. His voice was closer than she’d thought it was.

“I don’t care if they are or not,” she grumbled, casting him a dark look over her shoulder. Oh, yeah. He was really close. So close that she could now feel the tip of her fin brushing against the lower part of his tail. She quickly swam forward, putting distance between them.

“But you should. If one were to come after us right now, I don’t know if I would be strong enough to fight it off. At least not yet,” he said, his voice showing his…self-loathing? Mari bit her lip, but didn’t turn around.

“They’re like octopi?”

“No. They are much more dangerous and cunning. One of them...” He trailed off.

Mari looked behind her and was taken back. The pain on his face was so intense that her heart nearly broke in half.

“One of them what?” she asked softly.

“Nothing. They’re just one of the worst predators in the sea and if you ever stumbled into one of their lairs… You’d never make it out. Not in one piece, at least.”

She shivered. His face closed up completely, guarding her against any emotions he was feeling. Something had happened between him and an Octopian, and it hadn’t been pleasant. Did it have something to do with how he’d been exiled?

Because his guard was up, she could only guess.

“So…” she started, feeling like the queen of awkwardness. “How do we eat now? My stomach doesn’t take large amounts of sushi well.”

“Sushi?” Ambrose frowned. “I have akrina getting something for you now. It will take some time for you to adjust to everything, but we will help you.”

“I take it it’s not going to be Subway?” she asked herself lightly, sighing. That akrina thing freaked her out like no other thing had before, so the fact that it was getting her food was reason enough to worry. She’d probably take a bite out of it and come away with that slimy hand sticking out of her mouth.

Gross.

“I don’t know what Subway is, but I can tell you she is retrieving fruit. She’s partial to it,” he said with a tender smile. The way he talked about the akrina reminded her of how her own father spoke of her.

“Mathematician genius,” he would boast. “She knew how to speak Spanish and French by the time she was five.” That was probably one of the things he bragged about most. While it was true that she was trilingual, having learned ASL specifically for her teaching career, there had been a lot of other things he’d been ecstatic about. Every good paper had gone on the fridge, and every lost tooth had a special picture in the picture book.

Listening to Ambrose talk about his akrina like it was his daughter caused an ache to settle in her chest. She hadn’t seen her parents in weeks, even though they’d planned on visiting before the cruise. They’d gotten caught up with a hurricane recovery team in Hawaii and hadn’t been able to make it.

Right then, she felt a slimy sensation tickle its way up her arm. She gasped, barely holding in her scream as she realized the akrina had come back.

“You need to teach this thing manners,” she growled, trying to force her heart to slow down. The thing was racing like a horse—or would the better term be sea horse?

“She knows plenty of them,” he said defensively as the smaller orb of light came out from somewhere behind him. She watched with her mouth pressed as the two things merged. “Akrina can’t help that she’s a little too friendly.”

“You mean creepy?” she asked. Ambrose held his hand out to the akrina and she gladly went to him. The second they touched, a pile of fruit tumbled from it.

Mari’s mouth dropped open. Peaches, mangos, and oranges were all beginning to float to the surface, deposited from the bottom of the circle of light.

She quickly grabbed a peach and a mango, looking at Ambrose. “How did she do that?”

“Do you have all that you need right now?” he asked, ignoring her question.

She nodded.

“Alright. Go ahead, akrina. Save them for later.”

All of the fruit stopped floating upward, instead being centered to the akrina. One by one, she absorbed each piece of fruit.

“I had no idea she could do that,” she said, taking a healthy bite out of the peach. Expecting to be flooded with salty water, all she tasted was sweetness. It slid down her throat effortlessly, probably the best tasting peach she had ever had in her life.

“She can do a lot of things,” he said, the pride entering his voice again.

Mari took another bite, relishing every single juicy drop that she got. “I’m not going to get one, am I? I mean, since I’m not really a mermaid or whatever you guys are called.”

“Truthfully, I don’t know if you will or not.”

God damn, she hoped she didn’t. Or at least, if she did, the thing didn’t have slimy arms that made her feel like someone was rubbing crushed worms over her skin.

Ambrose continued, his voice deep, lilting. “We are called Atlanteans, but the myths of us are more partial to calling us ‘mermaids’.” She heard the disgust and raised a brow.

“But I’m guessing you don’t like that?”

“Not at all. It’s so...weak. Girly. Atlanteans,” he said, chest buffing with pride, “are strong and dominating. People used to shake with fear whenever someone said our name; Octopians were weary of attacking us, and kings of other species would tread with care.”

She stared at him, silent. His thick black hair was flowing around his face, strong jaw set, and eyes gleaming with the remanence of the past. Things were so much more different now, she thought, not knowing if she should tell him. Atlantis was a myth in her world, and very few people believed in mermaids or anything other than humans and animals.

Mari could only imagine what would happen if people knew that mermaids were real. What would her parents do? Accept her, reject her? If her own grown-up daughter came home one day and suddenly told Mari that she was infected with fish juice and had a tail every couple of hours, how would she react?

Her parents’ love was unconditional, always had been. But Mari wasn’t...Mari. She didn’t have a boyfriend, she didn’t have feet—so what did she have now?

“What is wrong?”

Mari snapped back to reality, looking at Ambrose to find him staring at her with concern.

“Uh...nothing is wrong. Just thinking.”

“Of?”

“A fish of few words,” she muttered, before sighing. “What would I do if I wanted to go back to the surface? To teach still. I can’t just disappear,” she said. As they glided above the floor of the ocean, she swore she had seen that exact same bunch of coral before, with the exact same group of clown-fish...but then, everything looked the same.

It was beautiful, entrancing, but it all looked the same. Her eyes weren’t blurry like they had been when she’d been a “mortal,” as Ambrose called it. She could see with even better clarity than before, and every single inch of reef they’d covered had looked so much alike that every other yards she saw a repeat of what she had seen only minutes before.

She and Ambrose didn’t stop their pace just to talk. No, every time she wanted to take a second to breathe—suck down water, whatever—her hunk of merman would force her to keep going. They were in the open and he wanted them out of it.

“Mari,” he said slowly, making a turn like he had some sort of internal navigation. “You can’t go to the surface again...”

“Why, because of my tail?” she asked.

“What do you think would happen to you if your tail grew in front of the humans?” His eyes were hard and his jaw was clenched. Obviously this was not something he wanted to discuss.

“See, there’s the thing. I wouldn’t have to worry about turning into a fish because I would live right by the ocean. There are plenty of beach houses that are only yards away from the ocean. It wouldn’t be a problem,” she said hopefully, her tail starting to vibrate like it had earlier before she shot forward.

She grasped Ambrose’s arm to keep herself attached. His muscle jumped under her palm but she ignored it, holding tighter to him.

“It’s perfect. I can tutor right from the beach and still be safe there. Plus, you could stay with me!”

For the first time in what seemed like hours, Ambrose stopped them. Abruptly. Hard.

“Don’t talk like that, Mari,” he growled. His eyes flashed with a dangerous emotion that she couldn’t explain—didn’t want to explain.

Her head shook. “No, you don’t talk like that! There isn’t any reason why I can’t go back to the surface and carry on with my life. And it would be even better for you, because you’ll be by the water and you’ll have a start at something!”

This could be an amazing start for him—them. She could forget about the fish problem when she was teaching, and he could do whatever he wanted. He could start a life, meet people, get friends. She grinned at him, barely noticing her tail as it vibrated enough to shake her.

“Ambrose, this is perfect for you—”

“Mari. I said don’t. I can’t live on the surface and neither can you, so drop the subject. I’ll find somewhere for us to stay, away from Ceto. When you get used to your tail and know the rules of the sea, I’ll let you go on your own. Until then, keep this impossible thought of living on the land out of your mind.” His snarl was so violent, so loud, that the force had her flinching.

“I...”

He slashed a hand through the water, silencing her. “No. I won’t have it. Keep yourself quiet until we reach F-Inn.”

Ambrose turned around sharply, leaving her to tread there in silence. Ambrose had yelled at her? For wanting to give him a chance at a future? Her lips pressed tightly. Oh yeah. They were going to have to do something about that. Mari wasn’t going to be taking shit from any man—and that included men with tails.

But no matter how angry she was with him, or how much she wanted to rip his spine out through his tail and watch him float like a limp piece of seaweed to the ocean floor, Mari couldn’t get the image of how ungodly beautiful he had been when he’d rounded on her. She hadn’t felt fear, or thought for even a second he would hurt her. Ambrose was not that kind of man, no matter how little she knew him. He had risked his ass to save them, and that was all there was to it—he wouldn’t go back on that by physically hurting her.

The image of his eyes, ocean blue with streaks that looked like lightning flashing through them, was imprinted in her mind. Thick lashes, as black as night, surrounding the depths that burned into her... Damn, but the image made the water around her feel like it was heating up.

She pushed her hair behind her ear, swallowing. Her mother had once said, "If you get tingly when he's mad, tie him to your bed and don't let him go. I did the same to your father, and he's the man of my dreams..."

And staring at Ambrose as he stalked away from her, the akrina buzzing after him, a little voice in the back of her mind told her that her mama was definitely a wise woman.

“There are hotels underwater?” Mari asked, eyes widening as Ambrose forcibly dragged her behind him. She’d begun digging in her fins the second he’d told her to stay quiet and don’t look anyone in the eye.

That was warning enough for her to know that they shouldn’t even be going there.

“We are much like you, if not more advanced,” he said. Ambrose tugged on her arm gently, trying to coax her into moving on her own.

“All the more reason to leave! Don’t make me go in there—things have a tendency to break around me, haven’t you noticed?” Her voice rose to a higher pitch and she couldn’t stop it. She felt the blood drain from her face when a garbled shout came through the rickety door.

“It won’t break, Mari. All of our buildings are reinforced by the sea. Not even an Octopian could bring down this place.”

“Oh, well that’s reassuring,” she muttered, pulling against his hand. The akrina flittered in front of them and she felt the beginning of another hand, a wet one, wrap around her other arm. “Don’t touch me,” she growled.

Ambrose nodded and the sensation left her. “Let’s make a deal,” he said.

“A deal?” She didn’t bother to hide her cynicism. Another shout and then the sound of something thumping was heard and she felt lightheaded. Fights. Bar fights. This was like some underwater version of a rowdy western bar.

The door, from where she was, looked like it would fall apart any second. It was a dark brown, the edges rounded and with moss crawling over every inch. A small bundle was raised near the bottom and the closer she looked, she saw a line of little slug things crawling out of it.

Oh god.

Her diaphragm did a dance and she almost threw up the peach and mango she’d eaten earlier. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor a couple hundred miles away from this place,” she said, desperation tinging her voice.

Ambrose looked at her with sympathy, shaking his head. “No, we stay here.”

“Those….people. Things. There are things in there that will shred me to bits!”

He frowned at her. “We aren’t dealing with Octopians so your fear is invalid.”

Mari gaped at him. “It doesn’t matter if we are or aren’t! Do you hear the crashing coming from inside there?” Another thump came from inside there, right as the door began to rattle against the moss-covered stone building again.

The place was twice as big as her own house, with two stories and several busted out windows that only had a plank of wood as a sort of guard for privacy. Just like the door, gently flowing moss clung to the side of the building, weird rocky formations also managing to grow and stick to it. Several colonies of fish surrounded the stone building, like an evil sushi fortress barrier.

She swore some of the fish shot her the stink-eye. That only strengthened her resolve to not go into the rough-house place.

Ambrose stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, brows low and face lined with confusion. “I don’t understand why you cannot just do as I say,” he said, contrite.

Mari gaped at him. “I think anyone would have a problem going into a building that houses a constant bar-fight!” Something smashed from the inside and she winced. “You can’t seriously want me to go in there with you.”

“I seriously do,” he said, shaking his head as if clearing any other thought. The confusion drained out of his face, replaced by a disconcerting stern nature that had her backing away from him slowly.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yes.”

“No, Ambrose.”

He closed in on her, no matter how strong she kept her voice and no matter how far she backed away. “Sit. Stay. Roll-the-hell-over—“

His hand grabbed her arm with a gentle but firm grip. “Mari, it is not so bad. You’ve survived the transformation, you escaped from a psychotic goddess, and you haven’t chopped me into Octopian Bits like I’m sure you’ve wanted to for the past hour.”

Ambrose smiled, making her stomach do weird things. She swallowed nervously. “Each journey starts with the first step...even if it’s in the wrong direction at least your feet are moving and your brain is thinking. So far, you’ve done an amazing job of holding yourself together. I’m more than positive that you can do this small thing.”

Mari stared at him, then after a moment sighed. “Fine… But only because I’m tired. We do get to sleep here, right? Actually—do we even sleep at all?” If she couldn’t sleep anymore, they’d have a problem. A big, grouchy problem named Mari.

“We still sleep. As a newly-turned Atlantean, it’s actually imperative that you rest. I am so sorry that I had to drag you along without a second of recovery time,” he said, his voice lowering with his remorse, managing to wash over with a dark rush.

At just the small thought of being able to lay her head down and let her legs—tail—take a rest, the fight left her and her shoulders dropped. Yeah, there was only thing she wanted right now.

“Just…sleep. I want to sleep.” There. That sounded comprehensible enough.

Mari let Ambrose lead her to the sodden-looking door and made sure not to look at the demon-spawn fish.

“I’m not sure how this is going to go, but I can’t let you out of my sight…if anything happens, I want you to swim as far away from this place as you can,” Ambrose murmured against her temple, before pulling open the door.

They only got an inch in before the door slammed shut behind them and several eyes snapped to look at who had entered.

Instantly, everything stopped.

Every.

Single.

Thing.

Mari backed into Ambrose, barely stilling her gasp. About twenty or so men were standing around a table, playing some sort of game that had a small diamond involved.

It wasn’t the diamond that had her gasping, though.

Each man was a rougher, scarier version of Ambrose. They all had ink up their arms, they all had scars on their faces and bare chests, and they were all staring at them as if a ghost had walked in.

But of course, that changed within a second. Her heart thundered in her chest at the look of pure hate in their eyes...or was that death? It looked like death. Really painful death.

“Ambrose?” she whispered, hiding behind him.

“Don’t say anything.” His voice was barely audible to her.

The water shifted around them and her head snapped behind her. A hulking man with a fin—was that a shark fin?—sticking out of his back was shutting the door completely…blocking them from leaving.

Oh great. Just freaking great.

Mari was more than positive that they were going to die.

The big, bad, ugly guys were going to kill Ambrose and then tear her apart and she would never be able to strangle Ray with her bare hands

“Is this who I think it is?” one of the men growled. He had one eye and a scar that dragged down the side of his face. Almost all of the left side of his body was tattooed. His tail was black as night, completely opposite of hers and Ambrose’s.

“It can’t be,” another one muttered. She couldn’t see who had spoken, but as she looked around the room, she took a small moment to take in their surroundings. Just like the outside of the building, moss was gathering in the far corners of the room. The lighting—however the hell they managed to get it was beyond her—was dim and the room had a hazy look to it, like there was a smoker in the group. Except, smoking wasn’t possible underwater and to bring electricity into the equation…Her head hurt from trying to work it out.

Several feet away from them was the group of men, soggy wooden tables lined the wall with rusted steel chairs circling them. To the left of the main entrance was the traditional bar set-up. A high-top wrap-around counter with a lonely, thin bartender was there, several clear bottles of…something…in them sitting in front of him. Her face twisted with disgust as she struggled to identify whatever was in them. Some had green goo, others had black goo, and others had brown goo. Mari tore her eyes away from the nasty bottles and looked at the men again.

“He looks a little older…more ugly than before.”

Mari was so close to Ambrose that she could feel every reaction he had. So when his shoulders bunched up, tensing like an arrow ready to fly, she grabbed his fisted hand and tried to soothe him into calming down—until she realized what the ugly asshole—tailhole?—had said.

She frowned. “You aren’t ugly,” she whispered fiercely, poking his elbow. “Don’t listen to them.”

“I’m not,” he replied back softly. She tried to peer around his shoulder to get a look at his face, but he faced forward, not breaking his concentration.

“Are you sure—“

“Oh, and look at what we have here.” The same man who was missing an eye leered over her protector’s shoulder.

Mari tensed, her hand instantly wrapping around Ambrose’s arm, taking comfort in the bulging muscle that flexed under her palm. Hunky fish men weren’t such a bad thing, she told herself. Except if one was faced with twenty of them.

Now, that was a problem. Her heart rate kicked up another notch as the silence stretched on. Ambrose didn’t move from his spot in front of her, even though the eyeless man had made it clear that he wanted all the attention on her—she was hiding like a scared tuna from a fishing net behind Ambrose.

“A woman?” a foreign voice asked, sounding a little dumb. When he spoke, the vowels drooped, like he could barely talk. She peeked through Ambrose’s elbow, seeing who had spoken, and the whole scene in front of her.

Instantly, her heart tried to climb its way up her throat. Okay. So this really wasn’t good.

All of the mermen that she could see had out some sort of weapon. From a small dagger, to a full-blown spear, to some sort of arrow thing… and every single one was pointed at them.

“Ambrose,” she whispered, pressing flush against his back as the guy behind her moved in a little closer, enough that his tail brushed against her elbow. “I don’t want to die yet…”

“Will you look at that! She speaks!” The room burst into laughter—it sent a chill down her back. “So the Exiled One brings us a boon for staying here, is that it? A dumb little chit who foolishly followed you and has enough brain to form words.”

Luckily, the attention was focused on Ambrose. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was only getting angrier—his back was as rigid as a rock and the arm under her hand was unmoving.

“I have brought you something, but not the woman.” His voice was as steady as she’d ever heard it before, with a hint of something more, something…dangerous. She closed her eyes, wishing that they could be anywhere other than there. In a warm bed, with popcorn and a movie, grading papers and laughing at the students who had obviously cheated their way through the homework and tests… That was where she wanted to be.

Instead, she was there, in some sort of run down fish hotel. About to die. Lovely.

“Well now, that’s just too bad,” one of the men sneered, slinking his way up to Ambrose, daring to get close enough to peer behind him, at Mari.

Her stomach heaved. He was missing half an arm, the skin stretching over the broken off bone like thin paper. The guy was twice the size of Ambrose, and that was saying something.

“We won’t accept nuthin’ but the girl,” he said, a perverted gleam entering his eyes as they trailed over her scale-covered breasts and hips, then finally her tail—right before it left just as quickly. His face drained of color and he stumbled away from them.

“A God?” he asked faintly, shock lining every inch of his face. The room began to rumble with deep voices. “You bring a god to this place?”

Mari frowned. Were they talking about her?

“A god?”

“The Exiled One and a god?”

“Here?”

“No..!”

Around her, the voices of all the men rose, overlapping each other. She stood there with her arm twined with Ambrose’s, confusion coursing through her. They thought she was a god? And Ambrose hadn’t corrected them?

“Hey,” she whispered, pressing closer against him as the voices got louder. They were all debating with each other over something, and the roar was turning into a full-blown argument. “Maybe we should sneak out while they’re distracted. Why do they think I’m a god?”

Ambrose turned his head and looked down at her. His eyes were worried, but his face was set in hard lines. “Just…stay quiet Mari. If you let them think you’re a god, we can avoid a fight and hopefully have a place to stay. These men might even give their loyalty to you.”

“But I’m not a god!” she said, throwing her hands up. “And I really don’t want the loyalty of these…hooligans.”

A smile quirked his lips. “You’re starting to sound like me,” he murmured back, covering her hand with his. The action caused a shot of warmth to travel down her arm, leaving her almost breathless.

Funny. She didn’t feel so worried anymore.

“Don’t worry, Mari. Men have a tendency to worship those with a higher status, especially these ones. They may be rough, and they may cavort with Octopians on rare occasions, but they help those they admire.”

“Not a single one of those men admire me,” she replied, even as a blush tinged her cheeks. The way Ambrose had said that almost made it sound like he was one of those men.

“Oh, but they will. Just stay quiet and let me take care of this.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Won’t they wonder why the big, bad goddess isn’t taking a stand for herself?”

“No. They will think of you as cunning for watching the scene and not saying anything.” This time, he flashed her a full-blown smile and began to extract her from him.

“What scene…” The rest of what she said fell on deaf ears. Ambrose was too busy surging forward and grabbing the man closest to her by the arm, digging his hand into an open flesh wound.

A scream ripped the air, startling everyone into silence.

“Talk like that in front of her again, and you’ll wish you had never grown that tail,” Ambrose growled, causing shivers to run down her back. He wasn’t really going to start a fight on purpose, was he?

No. That would be dumb. Ambrose wasn’t dumb. He wouldn’t…

“Oy! You wanna take this somewhere else?” A man standing only several feet away from her snarled like a wild animal before the metallic ring of metal sliced through the air. After that, several other weapons were unsheathed, and the man without an eye came forward.

With a steely, narrow gaze, he ran his eye over Ambrose before looking at Mari.

“We’ll challenge you for ‘er.”

Mari started. “What?”

“Just be quiet,” Ambrose growled. He seemed to assess the man standing in front of him before releasing the grasp he’d had on the merman. The guy fell back, panting, face as red as a tomato.

Mari barely noticed, and really didn’t care. Ambrose had said so himself that he wasn’t strong enough to handle a fight, so why the hell was he doing this right now?

“If we win, we get to keep ‘er. If you win, ye’ get to stay here and we won’t lay a finger on her.” The man traced her body with his eye. She shivered, reaching for Ambrose again. She wouldn’t say anything, she really wouldn’t say anything—

“That’s fucking nasty.”

“Mari!” Ambrose exclaimed, grabbing her outstretched hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” She covered her face with her hands as Ambrose wrapped an arm around her shoulder in a tight grip, silencing her.

Mari could feel the eyeless man looking at her. “Mayhap she is much more valuable than we thought…” He didn’t have a chance to finish.

Everything happened at once. Ambrose dropped her like a rock, shoving her back with his tail as the akrina wrapped its nasty-ass hand around her arm and the eyeless man, with two others, lunged at Ambrose.

The next moments were a blur. The men around her began to shout, urging on their guys, while Ambrose struggled under their weight. Panic spread through her like a wildfire. He wasn’t getting up or moving, but letting them beat on him like a punching bag.

It went on for minutes. She screamed and kicked, tried to get the damn akrina to let go of her, even went as far as crying, but it was to no avail. Her heart hammered in her chest, pain for Ambrose coursing through every vein in her body. Tears fell down her cheeks, or would have had they not joined the rest of the water around them.

“Ambrose, get the hell up! God damnit, just…get up,” she screamed, fighting against the hold that the akrina had on her. Her breath caught on a sob, the sound of punches and kicks and slicing flesh making her flinch as they fell into her ears with an unending resonance.

“Ambrose…” God, if she could only get away from the akrina. Her hands itched to kill something, to strangle the men that were hurting Ambrose. He shouldn’t have done this so soon; he’d said so himself that he didn’t have the strength.

Had he known this was going to happen?

Mari looked away sharply as one of the guys drove his fist into Ambrose’s temple. Oh my god…

The akrina took the hint, covering her eyes for her, blacking out everything completely. Whether it was because Ambrose had willed it to do that, or because akrina knew she couldn’t bear it, she didn’t know and didn’t care.

Seconds later, she felt the shift in the room.

Someone grunted—and not Ambrose.

Then the screaming started. Blood curdling, skin-raising screams that would haunt Mari for the rest of her life.

And it wasn’t from just three men. No, it was from everyone that was in the room except Mari. The screams surrounded her from every single point, the sounds of pain so loud her eardrums started to hammer.

Ambrose. He was doing this. She could sense it, feel it, hear it. He was showing them who was dominant like some wolf in a pack, and she was the deciding factor. He’d accepted the pain for her, made them feel like they were winning, and then rounded on them with a ferociousness she’d known he’d possessed.

Her eyes welled with tears just as the screams died down.

She waited for the moment when the akrina would release her. The blackness slowly receded and the akrina let her go completely. She instantly spotted Ambrose, standing in the center of a dozen or more limp bodies, with pieces of flesh slowly orbiting the room and blood following in their wake.

Mari almost started crying right then and there—but not because of the groaning men or the carnage that were laying on the floor at Ambrose’s fin.

She shot forward, throwing herself against his body. Mari was never going to forget the image of all those men on Ambrose, beating the holy hell out of him. Not ever in a million years would she forgive herself for starting this, either.

“Ambrose, I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…” She felt her eyes start to sting and she tightened her arms around his neck, not even noticing the way he was trying to pry her off of him while gasping for water. “I can’t believe… I’ll never not listen to you again—I’m so sorry…”

“Mari, stop it. I can’t breathe—” She immediately loosened her grip on him, but not completely. She had to make sure he was okay after what had happened, and he clearly wasn’t.

There was a cut going from his temple to his jaw and it was seeping blood, a black eye was already forming, and his lip was busted. She didn’t even want to see the state of his shoulders. Sobbing, she demanded, “Why would you let something like that happen?”

“It had to be done—Oh, sweet Atlantis. Not with the crying—“

“Why would you let them beat you fishless?”

“Mari, please don’t cry like that, I’m really not hurt and now we have a place to sleep tonight—“

“These bastards tried to kill you!”

Ungodly rage flared within her and she looked for the nearest thing to her—and thwacked it with her tail as hard as she could. It groaned, pleasing her. “You rat—fish bastard! If my brothers were here, they’d be cutting you into small pieces and sprinkling you over some noodles with Alfredo sauce, and where would you be now, huh? Cut up and in my god damn stomach! How about that?” She slammed her tail against another body near her, not even caring that she was probably making an army of enemies.

She paused, breathing heavily. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

It whimpered.

Pleased, she pushed her hair behind her ear and met Ambrose’s eyes, then blinked when she actually saw the rush of relief leave his body.

“Thank the gods that you aren’t crying anymore,” he mumbled, looking around the bodies. Not a single merman had been left standing. The tables were thrown against the wall, stools floating around them, and glass cups were wavering in the water like they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

“But…Why are you not crying over this? Aren’t women supposed to cry when something like this happens, and not…I don’t know, make it worse?

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re just like all the other men, aren’t you? Just because I’m a feminine fish, I can’t be happy about a little bit of much-needed carnage that doesn’t involve you dead at my feet! Well, let me tell you, my dear fishy Ambrose—I like violence!” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “And I like that you’re still alive enough for me to give you a good piece of my mind— If you ever pull a stunt like that again—” she growled. “I can guarantee you will have wanted to be among the bodies dead on the floor.”

He held up a hand, frowning. “None of them are dead, Mari.”

“I can fix that.”

He stared at her, then shook his head.

“So…for sure, you aren’t upset about this? Not scared of me?”

Mari snorted. “If anything, I think you should be scared of me, because the second I get you up in that bedroom—” I’m going to find out how long it takes to get shit-faced horny with a pair of legs to wrap around your waist.

“You’re going to what?” he asked, brows lowering over his eyes.

Bad Mari. Bad. Terribly bad. Horribly bad.

Still, the thought of actually carrying out with that image in her head…

God damnit. What the hell had gotten into her? Lusting after a merman after hours of meeting him? She had gone from horrified, to terrified, to crying, to angry, and to horny within the span of seconds. This wasn't like her at all—but the emotions were too strong for her to deny or fight. All she could do was go with what was happening.

The only reason she wasn’t about to admit herself into a mental ward was because the whole entire day has been totally FUBAR’d. First her boyfriend, the cruise, the goddess, turning into a fish, and then this? Too much for one girl to handle, way too much.

Which was why, right as alarm flashed over Ambrose’s face, she passed.

The hell.

Out.

Mari woke up to the most amazing sensation ever.

She couldn’t exactly place it, or even guess why she was feeling it, but she knew she never wanted it to stop. Small, heated tingles warmed her body from the inside out, making her sigh.

So lovely, so soothing.

She rolled onto her side, stretching with a smile on her face, blinking her eyes open—

Only to jerk with a soft gasp.

Sitting beside her—or more like slumping—was Ambrose. His head was on his crossed arms, which were resting on the side of the cot that she lay on. He was settled into an uncomfortable looking chair and he’d fallen asleep with lines of worry etched in his face.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she whispered, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder to wake him up. He looked so awkward laying there, and she could only imagine how bad his muscles would ache when he woke up.

Mari looked passed her sleeping guardian, taking in the room. It was small yet homey, completely at odds with the rest of the hotel that she’d seen. There was a small stand in the corner of the room with a weird creation of welded forks and spoons. At the opposite side of the room was a shelf with all sorts of seashells and under it, a dresser. It was see-through, but empty except an anchor in the bottom shelf.

Across the bed was an open window with stringy, pink vines that acted like a curtain—a terrible curtain. Outside of the window, she saw the evil little fish swimming around the room. They didn’t enter, which shocked her, but she wasn’t going to complain.

Instead of soggy-looking walls covered in moss, the room was built with glowing blue walls that mimicked a marble-type finish, something she had never seen before. It looked like it could have been transparent, but it was thick enough that she couldn’t see through to surrounding rooms. The floor, when she looked at it, was tiled with the same sort of material that made up the walls. It was so magical that she was overwhelmed.

The exquisite, breath-taking sensation ran through her body again, snapping her attention away from Ambrose and to her tail, where his was slowly brushing back and forth over hers. She shivered, eyes fluttering closed before she forced herself to keep them open.

She vaguely remembered his reaction the last time she’d had their tails together. “Don’t…touch me there, Mari. Bad idea, really bad idea.” She shivered, casting a glance at him. So it was the same for a male as a female to get turned on?

Mari wished she had a fan or ice cubes or something. Slowly slipping her tail out from under Ambrose’s, she shifted her weight so that she could lean on her elbows, studying him.

Ray had never been as handsome as Ambrose was now. Not even when they’d been in college. Mari, of course, had been too naïve to realize that Ray wasn’t all he was hyped up to be, but that didn’t matter now.

Mari was traveling with probably one of the hottest, nicest men she had ever met and she was now single. She had never been one to shy away from sex—even though the thought of having sex as a fish was somewhat confusing and a lot repulsing. But then, the way she’d felt when his tail had been brushing against hers…

Her eyes closed at the memory, wishing she hadn’t moved her tail away. It was pretty damn amazing. Nothing Ray had ever done to her had made her feel like that before, and Ambrose hadn’t even been meaning to do it.

Her eyes narrowed, an ache settling in her chest. Ray had never really tried to bring her pleasure, or make her feel anything other than a slight buzz. And while he had done nothing, she’d done everything to make him happy.

Or actually, nothing to make him happy. He liked it quick and short, and that was it. Out of all the years they were together, he never let her be creative in bed, never let her do anything other than the normal “hop on top and hump till you dump” routine he’d decided on using.

Her whole life, she realized, had become a routine. Because of him. Her—Them—Everything. They taught at the same school, worked the same schedule, corrected the same amount of papers, paid the same bills, and did things by the book—his book—so much that it had just become natural.

Mari had thought they were compatible. Her mother always talked about her relationship with Mari’s father as magical. There was nothing that was always the same, the passion hadn’t yet died out, and they still spent every moment together as if it were their first.

With Ray and her?

She leaned her cheek against her palm, staring at Ambrose. Ray had been so…dull. Predictable. Stable. Nothing like what she had thought she would find, like her mother and father had.

Mari had thought that that was the end, though. Graduating college, finding a steady job, and then getting together with Ray had been acceptable, because she had felt lucky enough to get even that. Her brothers had had so much going for them—brains, looks, personalities, professions. They were the prodigy children, and Mari was just the trilingual teacher with nothing else going for her.

Ray gave her no room to be excited. He gave her no room to be creative. He’d been “do this,” “do that,” and “be here” every single day of their life together. And now that he wasn’t hanging on her shoulders like some sort of “be serious” noose, she was finally able to express herself and be herself—and Ambrose didn’t mind; she wouldn’t have cared if he did.

Mari wasn’t going to let some fuck-up named Ray ruin the rest of her oceanic life. Although, she admitted, he might have helped her.

Without him, she never would have gone on the cruise. While it was by his own fault that he’d slipped up with the emails, she was almost glad it had happened. If it hadn’t, she would have been down there, staring at one of the sexiest, hottest men she had ever had the pleasure to, and the whole time she would be feeling guilty.

Mari sighed. Yeah, the way she had thought about him before passing out was enough to make a prostitute feel guilty.

Ambrose just had that “way” about him. He was silent, straight-forward, proper, hard and calculating when he needed to be, stern. Most of all…he was a man who actually cared. His worry, his concern, all of the respect he’d given her despite the situation they were in?

It was enough to make her heart pound and her stomach flutter—something that Ray had never been able to do for her.

“You’re awake.”

Mari snapped to attention at the deep, gravelly voice. Then blinked when she realized how close they were. His eyes were amazingly blue, circled with black waves and speckled with white.

“Ah, yeah. I am. And so are you.”

Her face started to heat, and she started to pull away from him, to get some distance. But as she moved, his hand came out and touched her arm, gently. As if he were almost too scared.

“I was worried about you,” he said. Then his eyes closed and he looked like he wanted to slap himself. She watched him, biting her lip. Ambrose tried again. “When you started to…you know…I didn’t know what to do, so I, ah…got us a room and—are you hungry? Akrina has a lot of fruit left over.”

She smiled. Ambrose, nervous? Mari laid her head back down on the cot, shaking her head. “No, I’m not hungry. Just tired.”

“Oh, then you should rest. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here…I was going to leave you alone but I sat down for a second and then I guess I fell asleep.” Ambrose scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “They only had one room available. I don’t trust them, either, so it’s best if we just stay together instead of give them a chance to…”

Mari touched his arm gently, silencing him. “Are you tired?” she asked, yawning.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, I am. And this cot is really uncomfortable—“

“I’ll go find you something—“

“Ambrose,” she said, laughing lightly. “Just lay down with me.”

“Lay down with you?” He blanched.

Mari nodded, then gave him puppy eyes. “It’s making my shoulder ache…”

“Ah, Mari, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, I can be back in two seconds with sea sponge padding and it’ll be a lot nicer than me laying down with you.” He pulled himself away from her hand.

“I doubt it,” she said, laughing lightly. Mari had no clue what had come over her, but she wanted to feel him next to her. She wanted to have his arms around her. She wanted some sort of comfort. She wanted…him.

“No, really, it’s fine—“ Mari sat up languidly, covering his mouth with her hand.

“Ambrose. Just stop talking.”

He stopped.

Mari grabbed him by his hand and he reluctantly followed her, awkwardly moving his body onto the cot next to hers, while trying his hardest to get as far away as he could from her. Mari didn’t pay any attention, instead dragging him closer to her and ignoring his quick denials.

The first thing she noticed was how warm he was. He was like a living, breathing, moving furnace. His body radiated heat in such an amazing way, all she wanted to do was get closer to him.

So she did.

“Mari, I don’t know if you should do that—“

Too late. By the time Mari was finally comfortable, his arm was under her head, his other one wrapped loosely around her waist, and her body was curled against his, cocooned there. And even though he was verbalizing that he didn’t want it, his body was telling her a completely different thing.

The way his arm was slowly drawing her tighter against him, the way his heart was pounding right by her ear, the way his breath left his chest in a rush… She smiled, hiding her face against his chest.

Even as tense and edgy as he was, she could feel how strong he was, how masculine he was. What would it be like to have him? she wondered. To take him right here and now. She had no clue how fish had sex, but she remembered him saying that she would have to get incredibly hot and bothered to get her legs back.

And likewise for him…

“You don’t have anyone…special, do you?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes. What if she made a move on a taken merman? Would Ursula come back to strike her revenge or something?

“Special as in how?” He avoided looking at her directly, choosing to looking around the room with eyes that didn’t look focused on anything.

She frowned, scooting up to make him look at her. “You know, like a wife, or girlfriend?”

“Oh.” His head shook, and he still didn’t look at her. “I don’t have one, and I never have.”

“Not ever?”

“No. Mari, I do not see why this is a topic you need to bring up right now. You should be sleeping after how much I’ve pushed you today—“

Maybe it was the stress that made her do it. Maybe it was how warm he was against her. Maybe it was the way his heart was pounding and the barely noticeable shake in his arms as he held her like he’d never touched something so precious in his life. Or maybe it was just how much she needed to feel a connection with someone after everything she’d been through.

Whatever it was that caused it, she knew she wasn’t ever going to regret it.

So with that thought in mind, Mari reached up, grabbed his face, dragged it down to hers, and pressed her lips to his.

Instantly, fire shot through her body. Like a wild, uncontrollable shot of energy to every nerve ending in her body. She knew this was what her mother felt with her father when they kissed, and knew this was something that would only happen with one person, one soul.

Ambrose didn’t react at first, but that didn’t stop her. She moved her lips over his, willing his mouth open, even as the tremors in his body became stronger. Her hands slid over his chest, to his shoulders, careful of his wounds. Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from kneading him, pushing herself on top of him.

If she had had two legs, she would have been straddling his waist. He was flat on his back, his hands now settled gently on her hips, and his mouth slowly began to follow hers.

A ragged groan left his throat, desire shooting through her body. Pinpricks shot down her spine and to her legs, like someone was poking her with a needle.

Mari barely noticed.

Ambrose tightened his hands on her hips before one of them came around the back of her neck, pressing her firmly against him, their kiss turning harder, heated. Tendrils of passion swirled their way through her body, shivers wracking her. Ambrose was slow yet forceful in the domination of her mouth, and before she knew it, her legs were wrapping around his waist…and his two separate knees were bending to cushion her bottom against the hard bulge that she could feel at the juncture of her thighs.

She moaned softly, threading her hands in his hair.

Ambrose jerked away from her, pulling back and breathing raggedly.

“No,” she whispered. “More… I need more of you.”

Her chest was pounding like a jack hammer as she stared into his eyes, begging him without any more words—she couldn’t have if she wanted to. There was no way for her to speak without crying for his touch. Her body was in overdrive, sensation after sensation shocking her nerve endings into something that felt like ravaging, desperate need.

“Mari…” She heard the reluctance in his voice, and something inside of her cried out with denial. She had to have him.

“Ambrose, please.” That was all she could manage, but apparently it was enough.

With a quick, fluid movement, Ambrose had Mari underneath him in less than a second, and only then did she realize they were completely naked, no barrier of scales or clothing between them, their legs twining together. She slid her hands down his shoulders, to his chest, just barely brushing her fingers over the tip of his arousal.

He growled, the dark sound resonating through the room. Mari watched with fascination as a dangerous cast came over his face.

Ambrose trailed his eyes over her body, taking his time as he drank up every inch of her skin. She whimpered, trying to urge his face back down to hers with her free hand.

“Just let me look at you,” he grated. “God, you’re so beautiful, so precious…”

Mari expected him to kiss her, expected him to give her what she was asking for.

Instead, he did something else.

He slid down her body, hands holding her still just at the underside of her breasts, right before he met her eyes….

And pressed his hot, wet mouth against her breast, taking her nipple and caressing it with his tongue.

Mari was dying.

There was no other way to explain how she felt. Someone had killed her and she was going to heaven. There was no way she couldn’t be. Pleasure was coursing through her, unending.

Ambrose. His mouth was so hot, so careful as he tasted her. One hand covered her breast, gently pinching her nipple, and the other was sliding over her body, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Every inch he touched, he left a hot trail behind, like someone had singed a path down her body.

He sucked hard, drawing a ragged moan from her lips. Her head fell back into the cot as the pleasure grew so intense that she couldn’t even keep her eyes open.

Mari wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but Ambrose had other things in mind. He gripped her knee, keeping her thighs parted, giving one long, last lick at her puckered breast before pulling back, staring at her with eyes to stormy it was as if she were looking into a hurricane.

“This isn’t a good idea.” His voice was nothing but a growl, and god did that get her going. Mari shook her head, grasping his shoulders and trying to drag him to her, desperate to feel his lips against hers.

“It’s a perfect idea. Just touch me, Ambrose. Or if you can’t do that, let me touch you.” If she had said that to Ray, he would have scoffed at her. But Ambrose… His eyes darkened to a stark onyx color that had a shiver racing over her whole body.

He didn’t reply to her suggestion, but he did let her guide him up so that they could look at each other levelly.

“I haven’t…been with anyone, in a while.” He said it so uncertainly that a short laugh left her.

“Of course you haven’t, you’ve been locked up in a cave with a disgusting excuse for a woman.” Then she sobered. Hands that had been roaming over his chest, desperate to touch him in any way she could, stilled. “You don’t want to do this because of her, don’t you?”

Her confidence with the situation started to deflate. Ambrose was hooked on the woman who had tortured him, or too damaged by what had happened.

She felt like kicking herself. How could she have done this to an abused man? He’d told her repeatedly that he didn’t want to, and there was obviously a reason, and she hadn’t thought deep enough into why.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“ Mari began pulling herself away from him, but he forced her to stop. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, Ambrose brought her as tightly as he could against him. She was so close that she could feel his heart beating under her ear.

“The moment you touched me, I forgot about her. The only reason I don’t think this is a good idea is because I don’t want one of the best things to happen to me in two thousand years to be a regret by the one who gave me such a small joy.” He refused to look at her as he spoke, his body still thrumming, a low note of fear entering his voice.

Mari lifted her hand, touching his jaw, her lips tipping in a smile.

She couldn’t think of anything to say to that. No amount of words could explain the way he made her feel, or how relieved she was that he wasn’t thinking of the other bitch.

Instead of trying to form some sort of reply, she threaded her hands in his hair and pressed their lips together.

In an instant, the desire wrapped around them both, binding them together. Ambrose pushed her back into the bed, one of his hands sliding down the side of her body, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her. She shuddered, kissing him hard, licking along his bottom lip.

He immediately opened his mouth, accepting her, and then she lost all of the control. He took over completely, dominating the kiss, her body, her pleasure. Everything she felt was dictated by what he allowed, and no shit was given from Mari.

Moaning into his mouth, she dragged her hands down his neck, his chest, all the way to where the start of his arousal began. But before she could touch him, he grabbed her hands, taking them away and pinning them above her head.

She whimpered into his mouth, and he pulled back, growling.

“I need to be gentle…”

“No,” she said, her voice a whisper of breath. “Do what you need to, do whatever. I don’t care—just take me.”

His eyes widened before a flush darkened his cheeks, an intent gleam entering his eyes. He flashed an almost evil smile at her, causing shudders to run down her body.

Ambrose, she realized through her dazed state, was completely in his element. God, before he’d been locked up, he must have been a playboy. That look in his eye was making her wet in places that hadn’t wet before. His hands were like magic on her body, and all they were doing was touching her—and not even in the places that she wanted to be touched the most.

She grasped his hand, placing it on her breast and arching into it. “Need to feel you,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss her way up his throat, to his jaw. She nipped him roughly, unable to help the desire that was pushing her to act like this.

If this had been Ray, he would have stopped her right there. Too adventurous, he would say. Way too much for them.

Ambrose groaned, and a thrill rushed through her when she realized he wasn’t going to tell her to stop. She continued her way along his jaw, and when she came to his ear, she lightly nipped him there.

He groaned roughly. “Sweet Atlantis,” he growled, voice rumbling over her like crashing waves of desire. She shivered, curling as close against him as she could. The feel of his body was enough to drive her crazy; what would happen when he finally touched her?

His hand was rough as he kneaded her breast, but she didn’t care.

“Mari, I’m sorry—I can’t wait, I can’t do this the right way. It’s been so—long, need to have you now. So sorry,” he groaned before roughly kissing her on the lips and then settling between her thighs.

At this point, Mari didn’t care. She was far too gone with passion to even think about anything else. Opening her legs for him, she moved her hands under his so that their fingers were intertwined. If this was happening too fast, Mari didn’t care. She couldn’t. She was finally having a real man in her bed, finally being with someone who cared about their partner. She was finally able to be free with herself and this feeling of exhilaration was enough to have her moaning his name, urging him on.

As rushed as he claimed to be, he took his sweet-ass time working her into a heat.

Slowly, almost as if he were scared, he lightly touched her damp heat, dragging a moan from her throat. The fire…it was almost painful, and he wasn’t doing anything to help. Mari pushed her hips against his hand, demanding with her eyes and body that he take care of it. She’d never been this close to the brink, and it was addicting; she couldn’t get enough of it, of him.

Another moan bubbled up her throat, his hand lightly cupping her before he—

Oh god. His thick, hot finger lightly tested her entrance before dipping in.

The sounds of her cries were enough to get him hard as a rock, and if that didn’t help at all, then the clenching of her tight heat. He wasn’t even an inch in and her body was greedily asking for more.

Sweet Atlantis, this was a heaven he had dreamed of. And Mari was giving it to him.

Grasping her knee and drawing it wide, he lowered until he was eye level with her hips, spreading soft, slow kisses over her thighs and stomach. She mewled, arching under his mouth, and a shot of pleasure coursed through him. She was like liquid passion underneath him, her hands sliding into his hair and urging him lower, to the point where he wanted to taste most.

Her sweet scent wafted through the water, intoxicating him, making a hunger like nothing he’d ever felt before wash over him like a tidal wave. It was the most amazing scent he’d ever smelled before in his life, completely feminine and completely Mari, and completely his—at least for right now. And that was all he needed, all he could hope for. That a woman as strong and as beautiful as Mari was even letting herself open to him, letting him hear her sweet cries as she surrendered to him, was more than he had ever hoped for.

Ambrose reached up, lightly pinching her nipple. He loved the way her back arched into his hand when he touched her there, and loved how she gasped. It was...addicting.

As he rolled the soft piece of flesh between his thumb and forefinger, he bent down, brushing his nose against her mound.

God, he was shaking like a merguy at his first time with a woman. Which, technically, it was. All of the other women he had been with before Mari had been flings, something to amuse his playboy persona. He’d been carefree with his body. He loved the sounds a woman made. He loved the way he could make her fall a part. It was how he had lived...until meeting Ceto.

He forced the thought out of his mind, not wanting to ruin this once-in-a-lifetime moment with Mari.

Mari whimpered, the sound like a calling to the need that was rising even sharper inside of him. Unable to hold back, he gave her nipple one last gentle tug before grabbing her thigh with one hand, and then immersed himself in her heat.

Immediately, he was surrounded with…beauty. There was no way to describe it.

Mari, doing exactly the right thing to turn the passion up a notch, screamed. “Ambrose. God damn it, yes.” Her voice was throaty with desire, one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard in his life, spurring him on.

Dragging his tongue with slow, sweet torture up her slit, reveling in her moans and the way her body tensed before releasing on an exhale. He did it again, and she tensed.

“Oh—“

Ambrose closed his eyes, blocking out everything except how she tasted. He used one of his hands to gently probe her, sliding his finger in slowly and then drawing back the same time he took another lap at her.

She jerked against his mouth, crying out again. It was muffled this time, like she was covering her mouth, and he frowned.

Ambrose pulled back and saw that she was in fact covering her mouth. “I want to hear every single sound you make, so don’t you dare try to be quiet.” Her eyes flared wide, and she slowly lowered her hand. He saw the spark of lust in her eyes, saw how her eyes heated, and smiled.

“Good girl,” he growled, dipping his head again.

He was so focused on tasting her, having her in his mouth, that he didn’t notice she was pushing at his shoulders until she whispered his name frantically—without the tone of desire that it had previously held.

“No,” he snarled, gripping her thighs tightly as she struggled to push him back. “Have to have you.”

“Ambrose, someone is at the door!” she whispered fiercely, shoving at him harder. His eyes flicked to hers, the haze of desire clouding his vision way too much—

And then he heard it.

Someone was pounding at the door like they were trying to break into the room with force. Snarling, he gave Mari a dark, heated look before surging to his feet, body thrumming with enough adrenaline to take out an army.

“This isn’t over,” he said, watching as she nodded, her eyes still dark with desire. The beast that was raging in him began to recede. He still felt the all-consuming need to have her, take her, but if there was a threat to her…Ambrose would take care of that first.

He yanked open the door, about to rip someone’s head off, when he saw who was standing at the door.

“Ah—Ki—Sir,” the man with one eye, Carlayo, stuttered, trying to look past his shoulder at Mari. Ambrose couldn’t stop the low growl that came out of his chest as he moved to block the man’s vision. No one was allowed to see Mari like that. Even if she had graced Ambrose with her body, no man was worthy enough.

“Ambrose. Just call me Ambrose. What do you want?” It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t form a real sentence—no, it was all Mari’s.

Carlayo looked back at Ambrose, noticing his state of undress. Unease filtered through the man’s face, but Ambrose couldn't care less. The sooner he got back to Mari, the better.

“Ceto was here,” he said, backing away from Ambrose.

Instantly, he snapped to attention. “Ceto? You’re certain?”

Carlayo nodded. “One of my men gave you a cloaking spell the second we saw her coming. We sent on her way but she left us with a message…”

Ambrose could hear Mari moving around behind him, most likely trying to hear what they were saying. He cast her a glance before stepping out of the room, completely naked, and closing the door behind him. Not like he cared—merman were naked till the day they died, no matter the scales or lack thereof.

“What was it?” Sweet Atlantis, he could only imagine. Ceto was terrifying when she wanted to be—which was all the time. There was no wonder why the man who had almost killed him was scared beyond his wits.

Carlayo’s eyes scanned the hall way quickly, making sure no one was listening. Then he leaned in close, whispering it so softly he could barely be heard.

Ambrose paled.

In the brightly lit cave with blue and pink shells lining the wall in swirling patters, Ceto brushed her hair over her shoulder, tilting her head to the side.

Ahh, perfect. No make-up line and her eyeliner wasn’t running. No one wanted to look like trash when they were about to meet the “king” of Atlantis. Except, Ceto never wanted to look like crap. Too many opportunities to suck another helpless mortal into her grasp, and without her little mask and a dib-dab there, no little human would come to her.

She pouted at herself in the mirror, running her hands through her hair. Oh yes, she looked just fine.

The blonde wig was a little scratchy, but that didn’t bother her. Not when the reward was going to be so great. Her dear little pet was going to pay, and in the worst of ways.

She rose from her shell-lined chair languidly, still viewing herself in the mirror. Her hips were full and when she walked, they swayed like a current going back and forth. The long, flowing dress that clung to her every curve like a second skin was exactly what she needed to attract the attention she wanted.

The light blue folds fell down her back in waves, the corset cupping her chest to emphasize the size of her breasts. Ceto cupped them, testing their weight. So beautiful, she thought, a smile tilting her lips.

Yes, it was definitely time to begin the destruction.

Grabbing the shears off the dresser, Ceto took one last, loving look at the dress before cutting through the corset in a long gash over her midsection. The thin material split regretfully, part of the flap folding.

Next her legs.

She lifted her leg onto the stool, holding out the silky expanse of clothing, considering her next course of action. The shears wouldn’t do for this—she liked to switch up her routine, of course. It would look much better with…a knife.

Her lips lifted into a crimson smile and she reached for a knife off of the drawer. She liked to keep all of her essentials in one place. Cluttered next to the shears that she set down were golden coins, diamond blades she’d made with her own hands, and nails. She loved nails.

Not like the fake kind that you glued to your fingers—oh, she did love those, too—but the kind that she could drive into someone’s body and lick the blood from. She made sure she kept them in top shape—rusty nails were unpleasant on her taste buds.

Ceto gripped the handle of the knife tightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder so that it wouldn’t get in her way. The knife made a precise cut as it sliced through the silk. She heard nothing but the slow tear of the silk in the room, and it brought her peace.

She loved planning and getting into character. It’s what had given her all the riches that she had now. Her little cave was flowing with treasures, all taken from helpless mortals who didn’t have the brains to recognize a predator when they saw one.

And Ceto was a predator. She took pride in it. She loved controlling the game, loved having that control. Her eyes narrowed as the she started another tear in her gown. Ambrose had stolen her control, ripped it right out of her perfectly manicured hands.

She had only herself to blame, though. The stupid Council had called a meeting together right as she was getting into the mood and she had assumed he would be too weak to make it through the cave by himself.

Not even a half-hour had she been gone, and he managed to escape. How? she asked herself, her snarl ripping through the air as the silk followed course. The delicate material floated to the ground, almost completely shredded.

How had that bastard managed to free himself? After not having his legs, and no water, he shouldn’t have been able to make it three feet before collapsing. And that damn akrina of his only had one power in that cave. She’d blocked off any of it’s abilities the second she’d put him in there, so unless it had managed to get stronger over time, in a cave where it could do nothing but shine light?

No. It was impossible.

The very fact that Ambrose had escaped her clutches had also seemed impossible. His eyes flashed in her mind, and a shiver ran down her back. They were so dangerous, filled with so much power.

Power that belonged to her. It was hers. And now that he was gone? Where would she get it from? His pain and his abuse was her sole source of energy to keep going. He’d escaped and she had nothing…except revenge.

She had plenty of that planned for him.

Ceto stood to her full height, twirling into a circle and then bending over at her waist, eyeing her make-up. Light brown eyeliner was stroked perfectly along her lower lid, with thick mascara making her eyes look wide and almost frantic. Her eyebrows were arched with a shade that was close to her natural hair color, and she looked permanently worried, innocent, and beautiful. The blonde wig that framed her face also added to her disguise.

The King was so stupid it was almost amazing. For years, his prosperity had come to him by luck, slowly dwindling marginally each century. It was expected, though.

The man in the big chair was too new, too stupid to know this, but Ceto did. Without the rightful heir to the throne, Atlantis was doomed. His power, his energy, was what kept the large, underwater city from dying out completely. Less and less, babies were being born. More and more, there were “accidents” and citizens died.

Ceto didn’t claim responsibility to this, although she liked to think she had a part in it because she had kept Ambrose away for so long. He was still close enough to trickle what was left of his power when she took from him, but what he supplied them was so much less than what they needed that it harmed them rather than helped them.

She sighed, then frowned and peered closer into the full length mirror.

Something was missing.

Ceto didn’t look anything like an Atlantean who had just been ravaged, raped, and beaten. She could form a glamour for the bruises, but with Ambrose gone, she possessed barely any of her former powers. She felt the heat build in her hands, so much smaller than it used to be.

Pressing her hands to her jaw, neck, leg, and cleavage, she examined herself in the mirror once again.

Still not good enough.

Her eyes ran over the dresser top, looking for anything that might help. Something just wasn’t…there—

The diamond blade. The only thing strong enough to slice through her skin and cause actual blood to form.

A greedy, salacious smile lifted her lips as she picked it up, twirling the sparkling blade in her hands. Oh yes, this was perfect.

She held up her arm, staring at herself in the mirror. Ceto had never gone so far to exact revenge, but it was needed.

Dragging the blade over the inside of her wrist, her teeth grit at the pain. It shot up her arm, attacking her right at the core. Dear sweet fu—

Ceto almost passed out from the first round of pain. But she, like many others, knew that it was the first hit that was the worst. She kept her knees from buckling by locking them, watching in the mirror as the blood welled. When it was flowing freely, she dragged the open wound over the dress, smearing it around.

It still wasn’t enough.

Taking the dagger in both hands, she tried to stop the shaking that was starting up in her arms. If this was what it took to get her story across, then this she was going to do it—Ambrose was going to pay, no matter what.

That thought was the only reason she even thought about what she was going to do next.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Ceto let her head fall back, the blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. Holy shit she couldn’t believe she was actually going to—

Ceto screamed in pain as she forced her shaking hands to slice at the exposed skin of her midsection. Immediately, blood flowed down the front of her dress, washing over her feet like she’d stepped into a bloodbath. When she couldn’t scream anymore, her jaw clenched so hard her teeth began to crack.

Fuck.

Just fuck.

Tears burned her eyes as the pain began to ebb. If this didn’t take care of Ambrose completely, then she was going to strangle him with her bare hands. Maybe killing her himself would be better than watching him die over the pain of his family.

It sounded much more appealing, she admitted, heaving a sigh. Another rush of blood sluiced from her stomach, splattering the dress completely from her waist down.

Even though she was gasping, trying not to cry, and in pain, Ceto couldn’t help but smile. Ambrose was going to regret ever leaving her. And once Ambrose walked into the kings courtyard, she would be in the side-lines, watching, relishing every single roar that came from his throat as he watched the last of his family disappear right before his eyes.

He would have no clue, of course. Her dear, sweet Ambrose wouldn’t know what was happening. He wanted to think he was going to have a warm and welcoming family reunion after being exiled? Well, she thought as her lips curled. That was all on him.

The pain was so great that it was dull, which was fine with her.

Ceto set the blade down, wiping her hands on her neck and jaw, then rubbing her arms. Now that she was coated with blood, it was time to get the show on—

Crack. The loud burst of lightening right next to her had her jumping with a short scream. Then she realized what it meant.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. Of course. It just figures that right when she was about to take care of business the damn gods would—

Crack.

“Oh, for crab’s sake, I’m coming!” Ceto shouted, looking down at herself. If they asked, how was she going to explain? She kicked the thing nearest to her out of frustration, wishing she could take the chair and shove it up each of their asses at one time.

Crack.

“Fuck you,” she muttered, before releasing the glamour on the bruises and following the call.

It took two seconds to travel there. The air blew around her like she was standing in front of a fan, her eyes seeing only black. Shivers wracked her body at the cool air that wrapped around before she was thrown into an all black room.

Black marble. Black curtains. Black candles and black fire. Everything was black except the people standing in the room and the giant, blood-red symbol that was etched into the center of the circular room and the matching pedestals that were just on the outer edge of the ancient markings.

“What are you doing now, Ceto?” one of the ancient gods asked. She looked up at C’Xarion, shrugging.

“None of yours. Now, what do you want? I have a date that I need to make.”

“Dressed like that? Please tell me you aren’t going after one of the cast members of The Walking Dead again. We know how this worked out last time,” C’Xarion’s brother, X’Zaree said.

Ceto shrugged again. The brother’s voices were emotionless, and they always would be. If it had been from any other person in the room, she would have taken it personally. But, seeing as they were unable to feel anything other than rationality, it didn’t matter what they said to her as long as they weren’t zapping her ass into outer space.

“You look…What is that new term the mortals have come up with? Hatchet? Artificial?” D’Marci, one of two females, looked at her sister in question. Their immaculate faces were clear of confusion and emotion, just as their voices.

“I believe the correct term is ‘ratchet’.” Ceto’s heart stopped.

It had been years since she had heard, or even seen the face to match the voice. Her eyes closed as she worked to school her features. Slowly turning around, she met the eyes of Maxroy.

There were few people that could affect her. There were very few people that could make her regret things. And right now, standing in front of her, was probably the only person that could make her actually feel.

His dark, intoxicating eyes were tender as they met hers. “You look like you’re going to a party I wouldn’t mind seeing; not ratchet.” He cast an admonishing glance at the two female gods who sat there with their perfectly arched brows.

Maxroy must have come in right behind her, because she hadn’t noticed his arrival. She was about to open her mouth when another figure stepped up from behind him.

His wife.

Her throat closed up.

“Thank you,” she said, barely able to choke the words out. The small, petite woman standing beside him gave her a gentle smile as she slipped her arm through her husband’s.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Ceto. Although,” she said in that soft, lilting voice she was known for, lips pursing, “I think you should have splattered some blood on your forehead. It would have finished the effect off perfectly.”

Ceto wanted to hate the woman. She really wanted to tear her to pieces and throw her into the darkest pit of the sea and watch her slowly die.

But even she knew she was lying to herself. Aixya was one of the nicest, most kind hearted females that Ceto had ever met in her entire existence. To hate her would be like hating a puppy. And while Ceto hated many things, she didn’t hate puppies.

Aixya’s hair curled around her face in soft, red locks, emphasizing her large bright eyes and the kindness that constantly shone in them. Compared to the tall, dark man that was her husband, their looks were complete opposites while their personalities were completely similar.

Just staring at them made her want to puke.

Just staring at Maxroy made her want to cry.

She swallowed thickly, nodding at them both. “It’s lovely to see you again, Aixya. And thank you for the tip, I will keep it in mind.”

“Oh, no problem at all. This must be some important meeting, right? I mean, it’s not every day that we’re all called together like this,” the innocent woman murmured, looking around the room.

Slowly, more and more people were popping up, all over the room. They went to their respective groups, conversing in quiet voices, waiting till everyone who was invited arrived.

“It must be,” Ceto said evenly, forcing herself to look away from the couple. Maxroy had put his arm around his wife’s shoulders with such ease that it made her heart pound. They were perfect together. They always had been, even when Ceto had first met Maxroy. So happy and just…perfect.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Maxroy commented, his voice washing over her. Ceto had to close her eyes to not feel the pain that she felt creeping up on her.

All she could manage was a nod.

“So,” he said, “what are you dressed up like that for?”

Ceto froze. He just had to ask that question, didn’t he? “Nothing. It’s a thing I’m trying to start.” She wished her voice wasn’t so clipped, so ragged. His wife cast her a curious glance before shrugging, leaning into his thick arm.

God, why were they so perfect together?

One last person popped into the room, and a silence fell over the room. Ceto turned away from the couple completely, grateful. The thundering of her heart was enough to make an elephant stomp proud.

“Some news has come to our attention,” X’Zaree said, his voice as emotionless as the water they were standing in.

“What could be so important as to call every minor god and goddess to this meeting?” someone from the back called out. Ceto didn’t bother looking behind her; picking out the exact voice out of the hundreds that were all crowded in the room would have been pointless.

“Quiet,” D’Rai, D’Marci’s sister, intoned. Even though she was unfeeling, and had remained so since the beginning of time, the gods still tried to learn facial expressions and impressions of people’s emotions. Right now, her brows were dropped over her eyes and her shoulders were stick-straight. Her sister’s were the same.

C’Xarion dipped his head at his sister before facing the room, completely silent. His dead eyes scanned the room, and Ceto shivered with unease. She had an idea what this was about, and she didn’t like it. The gods had called every minor god to the meeting, which had only been done once.

When deciding if Ambrose should be exiled or not.

“Now,” D’Marci said after several moments of tense silence. “News has come to our attention that the exiled king—“

Instantly, the room erupted into chaos. The sister god didn’t even get a chance to speak before men were roaring with outrage, woman were screeching, and any other creature in attendance was beginning to have cardiac arrest at just the mention of Ambrose.

The only people to stay silent were Ceto, Maxroy, and Aixya.

The chaos lasted seconds, because the next moment, X’Zaree roared, “Silence! All of you.”

“You cannot mean that—“

“The Exiled One is not the heir any longer—“

“He is alive?”

“My brother said to be silent, and we expect you to honor his wish after all he has done for you,” D’Marcee whispered, catching each eye of those who had spoken. The room was brought back to silence, but Ceto could feel the unease. Shit, it was wrapping around her chest like a vice, how could she not feel it?

D’Rai looked right at Ceto when she spoke next, making her inch backwards. The blood seeping out of her stomach had fallen into a puddle, one that she accidentally slipped in.

Hands automatically correct her slip, and she looked back—to find Maxroy. His face, unlike earlier, was no longer kind and tender. Hard lines of grief were now etched into his face like he’d been made out of granite.

Ceto swallowed. “Thank you…”

The gods spoke over her, and she focused once again on them, almost nervous to hear what they were going to say.

“He has been banned past his due. Atlantis is feeling the effects of his absence and he has matured into a strong, compassionate man. It is time he return to the throne—“

“No!”

“What the fuck!”

“You can’t be serious!”

“He ruined your subjects lives by what he did, and you want to restore him to power?”

D’Rai lifted a regal hand, silencing all again. Ceto couldn’t meet the ancient in the eye. “We are not to blame him for what happened thousands of years ago. Our people have adapted, become stronger, more advanced—and they are, in fact, protected by his actions.”

“Protected? What he did killed my whole family!”

“Ask yourselves,” C’Xarion cut in. “Do you have concrete proof that The Destruction was his fault? Someone else could have tampered with the Book of the Sea. There were many times when we thought our home was peaceful. Have none of you thought that there might have been another person, using him as a scapegoat? It was never proven. You were all driven by your emotions to place the blame on the young heir so you could cope with your losses better.”

People shifted on their feet uneasily. Ceto knew for a fact that no one had thought it could be anyone other than Ambrose to sink Atlantis. Otherwise, they would have realized who had really done it. Did the gods have any idea? They were so wrapped up with trying to retain peace that they she had to wonder if they suspected anything of her.

Which was stupid.

Of course they did.

D’Rai hadn’t taken her eyes off of Ceto the whole entire time.

Ceto paled.

Were they going to take care of her now? Or had Ambrose’s punishment been enough? She doubted D’Rai knew what Ceto had done to him, and what she still planned on doing. The gods were all-knowing, but they weren’t that all-knowing. Right?

Her stomach started to churn, and she almost screamed with a soft hand touched her shoulder lightly.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Aixya whispered. The hope shining in her eyes made Ceto feel like…she had no clue. But she didn’t like it. The ache in her chest only grew worse when she saw Maxroy’s face.

“He’s finally coming back.” The reverence there—it almost brought her to her knees. There had been a time where she would have felt that same reverence to have him come back. She knew what Maxroy and Aixya were thinking.

Ambrose would come back, and everything would go back to normal. He would rule, he would give Atlantis and it’s people what they needed. They would finally have their friend back with them.

Ceto had never planned for this to happen. He was not meant to come back and take over the throne. He was not meant to be anywhere except in her cave, and yet this was happening.

It was actually happening.

“It’ll be just like old times,” Aixya said at her ear. Ceto wanted to deny it, but a second later, a thin pair of arms were wrapping around her tightly, squeezing her. Confusion rolled through her, and then torment.

The last time she had seen Maxroy, it had been at Ambrose’s trial. The look on his face…had killed her. It had torn her a part from the inside out, ripped at her soul, and even now? Just thinking about it? The image made her want to sob.

And it made her want to kill Ambrose.

Maxroy had always liked Ambrose better. The four of them, Aixya, Ambrose, Maxroy, and Ceto, had been friends since the very beginning. At first, it had been Aixya and Ambrose flirting and trying their hand at “dating,” leaving Maxroy to Ceto.

She’d fallen headfirst in love with him. Everything about him, everything he did, everything he was. Two children from completely different families, and the fates had made her fall in love with him—a man who didn’t return her love, who wanted Aixya more than anything in the ocean.

But of course, Maxroy had wanted his friend, the king, to be happy. He’d watched from the sidelines as Ambrose slowly wooed the innocent Aixya, and Ceto had watched from the proverbial ditch as everyone loved everyone else…except her.

Unwanted by her father, unwanted by her mother, and unwanted by her aunt, Ceto had to go through the pain of watching Ambrose get all the attention. Had to watch the spoiled king take her friends and bend them to his way.

When she was younger and a lot less…malicious, she had known he didn’t do it on purpose. Ambrose cared—about everyone and everything. He was as charming as the moon, and as charismatic as anything could have been.

Ceto had grown older hating them. Ambrose had realized Maxroy loved Aixya, and had set her off. In tears, of course, but into the arms of his best friend. Ceto had been left to herself at that point. Ambrose was too busy trying to keep their city hidden from the mortals, and Maxroy and Aixya were learning each other in ways that Ceto had been jealous of.

But the love he felt for Aixya…Ceto had seen it in his eyes. Could still see it now. Could still feel the ripping of her soul from that day when he’d made it clear, as gently as possible, that he didn’t want her. Just like everyone else.

Aixya was too innocent and too sweet to be bothered with Ceto’s pain. The two of them had been best friends, even when Aixya had started her relationship with Maxroy. The girl was too kind, too gentle, and everything that Ceto wasn’t. Maybe that was why Ceto couldn’t bring herself to hate her, even to this day.

Aixya only wanted the best for everyone. Everyone should be happy, safe, and healthy. One little rift in her life and it would crash and burn—and even an evil thing like Ceto realized that Aixya was a rarity in the world.

So Ceto had waited. The hate, the pain—it had all grown inside of her until it was festering like a disease. Ambrose had gone away on a trip, alone. No one knew where but no one had known either way. He liked to take time to himself, just as long as he never went too far. Atlantis was well-protected and nothing could harm their king, because not only were they invisible, he was also one of the best warriors to have ever been witnessed.

That was when she realized that she could ruin him. Tear him a part. Strip him of his cushioned life and make him realize that nothing was given freely. His time of leisure cost him the city he adored and protected with his life.

She could still remember sneaking into the room where the Book of the Sea was. The guards hadn’t been around, for whatever reason. She’d counted it as a stroke of luck for herself.

The book… It had felt heavy. Like the world rested within it—which it had.

Ceto had done the only thing that she could think of—she tore the book away from the Soul of the Sea, and dropped it to the floor.

The second it had touched the ground….she would never forget the way the earth cried out with pain, or the way the people around her began to panic. Where was the king? Why wasn’t he saving them? What was going to happen? Why was this happening?

As soon as she’d dropped the book, she also taken out the blade he had given each of his closest friends. They were all identical to his—a symbol of how much he trusted them. It was a warrior’s greatest honor to bestow a friend the same blade as his own.

In the wreck, his own had been lost…and never found. Ceto had taken it from his quarters before the final collapse of the ocean’s plating brought them under the water.

That had been the end to him. His knife had been found at the Book of Sea’s room, and Ceto had been nowhere in sight. No one had doubted her when Ceto said she’d seen him going to the ancient room. No one had seen the look of utter destruction and betrayal break him right in half as he stood in the exact same place that she stood now—at the center of the blood red symbol in the gods’ royal room.

And standing right where they had been on that same day as well were Maxroy and Aixya. Their arms were still around each other, and they were both crying just like they had the last time she’d seen them. Except this time, they weren’t crying from heartbreak. Maxroy was crying because his best friend was coming back.

Maxroy had never been one to sob in his life. But when his friend since childhood was dragged in, bound, bloodied, and confused…he’d broken down. And that was when Ceto’s heart finally took the final break.

She could feel the coldness seeping through her again just at the memory. Aixya and Maxroy had been wrapping in each other, and Ceto had been left alone.

That was all there was to it. They still cared about their friend more than her; they still wanted him to rule, and they still wanted him. After all the years apart, they could have said something, anything to her. But they hadn’t. For whatever reason, they had never tried talking to her again.

And she’d made it her personal goal to make Ambrose’s life worse than it already was. She used him, abused him, fucked him, stole from him. There were no ties between them that didn’t involve pain, sex, and blood.

The second he’d been exiled, no one wanted to escort him out.

So what had Ceto done?

Taken him for herself. If no one wanted her, and no one wanted him, they should be perfect together—or he should be perfect to use.

D’Rai’s voice broke into her thoughts just then.

“Anyone who attempts to deter him from taking the throne will be punished severely, either indirectly or directly. Anyone who attempts to aid him in taking the throne back will also be punished. It’s the true heir’s right to gain back his throne and that is exactly what he will do.”

Ceto stared at the perfect little bitch-god, her fury renewed. No one was allowed to deter him?

Well, she was just going to see how much she could play the gods, because Ambrose was not going to make it back to Atlantis.

She was just forming a slow, confident smirk while staring D’Rai straight in the eyes when she realized what she’d done. The message to Ambrose, to whoever saw him, telling him that he was needed at Atlantis immediately.

The only reason she had sent for him was to have him ambushed by the guards. Her elaborate story of Ambrose raping and beating, and then stalking her to the throne, was down the drain now, since he was already meant to be on his way, and expected…

Unless…

Ceto grinned.

The present king wasn’t going to be too happy having his throne stolen from him, was he?

Oh no. Definitely not.

Whatever that guy had said to him, it wasn’t good. Mari could tell by the tightness in Ambrose’s expression, and the way he held himself when he came back into the room.

She quickly moved back from the door, trying not to feel guilty over listening to their conversation. Her legs were still present, so she couldn’t move back with the speed she’d become accustomed to.

Ambrose stared at her—or more like through her. His face was so pale it looked like chalk and his tail was back. In less than a minute, the mood was ruined and Mari felt more embarrassed than she ever had in her life.

The desire was still thrumming through her body. Where his hands had touched, fire burned. Her breasts were heavy and she could barely handle the pounding of her heart. Ambrose was...amazing. Perfect. And he didn’t want her anymore.

Mari peered up at him, crossing her arms over her chest, hiding how hard her nipples were.

“What did he say?” she asked.

“Nothing. Listen, ah... Calm down enough to be able to go in public—” She blushed at the way his eyes looked over her like he couldn’t help himself, before he turned away from her with a red face. Mari saw the faint glimmer of his legs beneath his aqua tail and she smiled before she could stop herself.

“Just come downstairs when you are ready.” He barely cast her a glance before shooting out of the door, closing it softly behind him.

Ambrose was a god in bed, yet he couldn’t face her afterwards?

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door.

God, when the pounding on the door hard started, she thought they were about to be kicked out or attacked. Ambrose had been too caught up with her to even notice what was happening. But in seconds flat, when she’d finally gotten through to him even while she wanted to force him to keep going, he’d jumped into action.

And damn if that wasn’t hot.

Mari scrubbed a hand over her face. She really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, not when Ambrose had told her to specifically to calm down. How could she? All she could think about was Ambrose’s mouth kissing more than just her mouth.

Puppies. Think about puppies. They had no relation to Ambrose and his sex-god persona at all. Except puppies played in water, water was what Ambrose was in, and Ambrose had some damn great hands… Mari groaned loudly, wrapping her arms around her waist and kicking her feet with frustration. Cows? Cows didn’t like water. They drank it, though, like Ambrose had tried to drink her.

“Oh my god,” she hissed, slapping a hand over her face. “Calm down, Mari. Just calm down and think of things that cannot be related to Ambrose….like what had happened to her when she’d passed out, and what had happened before she had.

Ambrose had done something to the men. She only just realized that him taking down that many men at once, all of whom were three times his size, seemed impossible. What had he done to take them out, and why was lead guy helping them? She remembered how Ambrose had looked right after the fight, and realized that his wounds were completely gone. She’d felt his back, and there were no open wounds. She’d kissed his lips, and they hadn’t been busted. She’d traced his face, and it hadn’t been bruised.

Would she heal just as quickly? For some reason, the thought made her shiver. Mari didn’t want to be some fishy freak who could regenerate body parts at will—although, if she had been a doctor, she could easily picture cutting her own arm just to see what would happen. Mari looked down at the limb in question, lifting it, pursing her lips?

Would she heal like Ambrose? She lifted it closer to her face, examining her arm. Then she narrowed her eyes. If she couldn’t, then she could hinder Ambrose. Species healed at certain rates purely for survival. If she couldn’t keep up with Ambrose, he would treat her like she wasn’t good enough and keep her in a padded area. And having lived in a padded area with Ray her whole life, she wasn’t going to go back to it.

Shrugging, and doing this only because she thought it was for their better good, she bit into her arm. The pain was slow in coming, but the second she tasted blood, she felt it. She pulled back, cursing, studying her arm.

Nothing.

The blood welled in little pits created by her teeth. Her shoulders slumped. Ambrose would have to know that she was a weak little fish and couldn’t heal herself like him—

She barely noticed it, but movement caught in the corner of her eye. Mari snapped to attention, staring at her arm.

The flesh was moving over her arm like it had a mind of it’s own. Like a make-shift Band-Aid, her own flesh began to separate from her body, only attached by a thin piece of skin.

And then it wiggled in the water.

Just…wiggled. Like a worm.

Mari stared for all of a second before flinging her arm out and screaming at the top of her lungs. A worm had invaded her body! “Get it out, get it out, getitthefuckout!”

Oh sweet god. She was infected and there were living worms in her body that were trying to steal her skin as their own and holy shit it was wiggling more and trying to enter her teeth marks.

Mari screeched even louder, jumping off of the bed. She was so terrified that she didn’t even notice as her tail began to form. The golden scales wound their way over her feet, calves, thighs, waist, then breasts. Soon, she was once again a mermaid and another worm had popped out of her arm, making a piece of her flesh stick up and wiggle.

The door slammed into the wall.

Mari didn’t care who it was. She was too panicked, to grossed out, too close to losing her mind.

“Get this damn worm out of me,” she screamed at whoever had entered, flinging herself at them and shoving her arm in their face. “Get it out!”

Three men were standing in the door, none of which were Ambrose. As her eyes began to sting and her lip tremble, they stared at her, looking completely lost.

“God damn it!” she cried, shoving her arm at them again. “Worms! Get them out! I’m too young to be invaded by parasites—just get them out!” By the time she was done screaming at them, Mari stood there with her arm in their faces, tears floating out of her eyes, and chest heaving from all of the effort that it took to be so terrified.

“We must get Ambr—“

“No,” she screamed in their faces, stabbing a finger at the wiggling worm that was covered in her skin. “This thing is trying to steal my skin. And you cod-sucking bastards need to fix it! Now!”

“She can’t be serious…” one of the men whispered.

“I think she is.”

“I’m right here.”

“We’ll—”

“Just get it out!”

Another rush of tears started, and the mens’ face blanched completely. The one in the very back took one look at her and then shot down the hall, leaving the other two to her devastated wrath.

Mari was about to open her mouth to scream again when she felt the squirming, wiggling thing split into four little lines, forming a web-like covering. Before she could pass out at the sight, it speared into the bloody indentions that her teeth had made and, right before her eyes, bound itself to her arm completely.

No pain.

No blood.

No wiggling worms sticking out of her arm.

“What the fu—”

“Mari?” Ambrose shot into the room, shoving past all of the men and grabbing her shoulders. “You screamed—”

She shoved a pointy, enraged finger at his chest and he immediately let go. Fury flashed in her narrowed eyes as she held up her arm for him to view. “You infected me.”

“I what?”

“You.” She stabbed his chest. “Infected.” Again. “Me.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked quietly, waving out the men who gratefully, and as fast as the speed of light, shot out of the room.

Mari’s chest pumped frantically as the terror turned to a similar form of hysteria. “I bit my arm and then this—”

“Why were you biting your arm?”

“Worm was just wiggling it’s way through my skin, like a noodle finger or something, and then those guys! They just stood there, and now it’s traveling through my body and it’s going to eat my intestines and then I’m done for.”

“Done? For what? Mari—why in the reef would you bite yourself?” He grabbed her shoulders when she began to swam, tail going as limp as her shoulders.

“I needed to know,” she said, leaning into his hands. All of the fight drained out of her, and all she could do was close her eyes. “But now I have a worm living inside of me and I don’t know if you have medicine to kill it...”

“Did you bleed? When you bit yourself?” he clarified, taking her chin in his hand and making her look at him.

Mari nodded sadly, sighing. “And then the worm-web invaded my skin.”

Ambrose was silent for so long that she glanced up at him, beginning to frown. That is, until she saw the look of barely concealed humor in his eyes.

“You poor mortal,” he said, then burst out laughing. Mari stared up at him, confused.

“Don’t laugh about this!” she demanded, shoving her arm in his face. “I need to get this thing out of me before it does some serious damage!”

“Oh, sweet Atlantis. Do not bite yourself again, and that won’t happen, okay?”

“You know why the worm invaded me?” she asked.

“Well, besides being a fish underwater—creatures that are almost always infected with something—” he paused at her gasp, then nodded all-knowingly. “There’s also a parasite roaming the ocean. It’s been around for thousands of years. First, you have to eat something—like those mangos that Akrina got you. It enters your body that way.

“Then it just starts growing. Stress can cause it,” he said. Mari’s eyes widened to the point where they almost didn’t fit on her face. All of the blood drained to her fin. “It seems that you have caught the case really badly...”

Her stomach heaved. Going by all the crap she’d been through and seen the past day, she couldn’t doubt what Ambrose was saying.

“...or, you know, that’s just how Atlanteans heal themselves.”

She froze.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Ambrose burst into laughter, dropping her shoulders and holding his stomach. “No, I’m really not. A worm, Mari? In your skin, underwater? Out of all the things you could have thought of, that was your assumption?”

She stamped her fin against the ground, glaring at him. “It was wiggling like it had a mind of it’s own!”

He laughed harder, before seeing the look in her eyes. The one that said, “I wish I had a bonfire and a skew so I could cook some fish.”

Ambrose stopped laughing, straightening. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, Mari. Forgive me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, raising a brow at him.

He sighed.

“I bet I know how to make it up to you...” A slow, charming smile spread across his face, and her eyes narrowed.

“Highly doubt you could make that up to me. I made myself look stupid in front of those guys! And I cried! I sobbed, Ambrose,” she hissed, stamping her fin again.

“What if I said we could go to Atl—”

“We’re going to Atlantis?” she screamed, instantly tackling him. Finally! Something cool to see underwater!

Ambrose nodded, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her waist to catch her. “Yes, we are, but I need you to follow some rules while we are there—”

“Dude, fuck rules! This is going to be awesome!”

The whole time they were getting ready to leave, with help from his fellow Atlanteans, Mari wouldn’t stop talking. At first it was amusing, even laughable.

“Can you talk to fish there? Oh—what about the walls! Do you have like, sea-shell lined walls? What are the other fish’s tails like? Does anything glow? Do you have crystals in the ceilings? How do I go potty?”

Ambrose patiently answered each question as he paid the stablemen for the dolphins. He took the reins of one, handing it to Mari. “They won’t run off or hurt you, but be gentle with them. These dolphins are trained for riding but they don’t like being roughed up.”

Mari took the reign with wide, expressive eyes. Her mouth dropped open. “These things are actually rideable? As in, we just hang on to the fin and they go? Like a horse?”

He shrugged, leading them around the corner of the hotel. Peeking out from the window were the men who had witnessed her meltdown the day earlier. They were too scared to actually talk to “the goddess” but whenever he turned the corner, there was someone watching her.

Ambrose didn’t mind, as long as they kept their distance from her.

The funny thing was, though, that Mari didn’t even notice. She would go flapping her way down the hotel hallway, back and forth, lost deep in thought for hours, and every time she passed a window or an open door, someone would be there watching her.

She was completely oblivious.

And incredibly adorable.

Ambrose didn’t dare tell her that—he’d barely had a chance to get a word in otherwise. When she wasn’t swimming back and forth, her mind occupied, her mouth was running a mile an hour about Atlantis. How did their government work, did they have teachers, what was the family structure? Were babies born with a tail, were they born with legs, or were they hatched in a fish egg?

Her questions, although ridiculous enough to make even Ambrose laugh, came nonstop. Ambrose didn’t mind, though. At least she wasn’t hitting things with her tail and crying.

The thought had him grimacing.

“So dolphins are the equivalent to horses now?” she asked, poking him in the shoulder, drawing his attention.

“Whatever horses are,” he said, shrugging, wrapping his reigns around his wrist and palm, grasping the dorsal fin of the dolphin.

Mari vibrated excitedly beside him. Her tail began flapping and a flush stole over her cheeks. “Time for Dolphin 101!” she squealed, a grin spreading over her face.

Ambrose grabbed her arm right before she could shoot off. “First lesson: stay calm. The more excited you are, the less likely the dolphin will be able to keep up with you.”

Mari nodded her head, still vibrating. At least she had the sense to grab his hand.

“The reign hand is what you’re going to use to lead her. Holding onto her dorsal is just for you to hang off of. Don’t pull too hard on the reign—a gentle tug to get her started is enough and then she’ll be off. We’ll stop every couple of hours to give them a break, but we should be in Atlantis before tomorrow.”

Mari nodded again—then frowned. “Are we sleeping out in the open? Because if there’s a hotel around, I’d rather skip out on the fish-fight if it comes down to it.”

Ambrose shook his head. “There won’t be any hotels for miles, if my memory serves me correctly. This is the last one until you get to Atlantis.”

“I’m cool with that. Will I freeze my tail off? What are we going to eat? Where is the akrina?”

“No, mango, and resting,” he replied, letting go of her. “Wrap the reign around your wrist, tightly, with just a half-foot space. The dolphin will feel more comfortable if you’re touching her; she’s very responsive. You’ll also be close enough to encourage her and feel more secure against her back.”

Mari did as he said, and he watched, approving. She cast a skeptical glance at the dolphin, which squealed at her and flapped its tail, before winding the rope around her wrist, pressing against the excited creature.

“Don’t forget to give her praises,” he said, “even if you just stroke her nose. She’ll love it.”

“Okay. You’re sure she won’t chop my hand off?”

Ambrose chuckled. “No, she won’t. Do you need something to eat before we leave?” She’d eaten several peaches before they left. Soon enough, her stomach wouldn’t start feeling so hungry and she wouldn’t need to eat at all anymore.

Ambrose was beginning to compare her to a newborn. It had been thousands of years since a mortal had been turned into an Atlantean, but he remembered some of the basics. Like a babe, she needed passing meals to get some strength, she needed rest to adjust to her tail, and she had the temper of a pissed off Octopian.

She rubbed her stomach, shaking her head. “Nope, I’m full. So, are we going to Atlantis now? Can we go already?!”

Again, just like a newborn Atlantean.

Smiling and nodding, he urged the dolphin forward with a gentle flick of the wrist. They never needed much encouragement to start moving—it was the stopping that was the hard part. He felt Mari’s eyes on him, doing what he did, and decided that he should keep her closer to him. The dolphin was experienced at its job, but Mari wasn’t.

He began to reach for her reigns when her laugh stopped him. Through screaming, crying, moaning, and raging, he hadn’t yet heard her laugh and the way it chimed in the water, straight to the center of his chest…stopped him cold.

His eyes closed as she laughed again. The sound washed over him, consuming him. It was pure happiness, he thought. Something he had once felt. He couldn’t imagine being the same as he was before—seducing woman on a thought, going off and doing his own thing, making friends every two seconds.

Two thousand years wasn’t that much time for his people, but it was enough to change him. Would Mari be like him? he wondered, staring at her as she struggled to get the dolphin to follow him. Would he know her long enough to be able to see the change of time come over her?

She would have to learn about their culture, their ways. There was no possibility of her going back to the surface—Ambrose wouldn’t allow it. If she threatened to leave him to go there, he would force her to stay. She didn’t understand the dangers that could come with living on the land, just like his mother.

Even two hours out of the water after the change with no contact from the ocean, Mari would be done for. He’d seen it happen with his own eyes when his mother had left them to go to the surface.

Pain coursed through him at the memory. Intense, physical pain that had his eyes closing as it assailed him.

Gods, his parents. One of the worst accounts in Atlantean history, and he had been there to see it all, to live through having to take the bodies back, to live through the induction as king before he was ready.

Ambrose hadn’t been ready for the throne. He had only been two hundred and five, still experiencing the teenage life. Girls, learning, training, and drinking. His parents hadn’t put a reign on him, most likely thinking it was best he get it out of his system them. Yeah…because that had been wise.

When they’d died, he hadn’t been prepared in the least to take over the throne. And maybe that’s what made it so believable to the people of Atlantis, that after five hundred years of ruling them and working his grief over his parents into the willing bodies of the females that surrounded him, he would self-destruct…and take them down with him.

A threat. A monster. A reviled piece of eel that wasn’t meant to be around the elders in society. There were so many names that he had been called at the Council meeting, so many things he would never forget hearing from the people that he had strived to save even though he’d had no control.

He was the reason his parents were killed, they said. And because he’d killed them, he had to take care of the rest of the people.

No one had bothered to hear his side of the story when Ceto had accused him. No one had wanted to. The only people to cry over his banishment were Maxroy and Aixya, two of his best friends since the day they’d been born.

They hadn’t believed Ceto, had tried everything to get him out of the trial and be let free with an investigation that Ambrose knew would never take place. Mari, when she had asked him about his government, had explained the mortals’ Justice System.

And it had been eye-opening. There were so many things that the Atlanteans didn’t have instilled, so many valuable lessons that were being missed out on. But to carry them out, with no understanding of how they worked?

Ambrose knew Atlantis would prosper—Ceto had come back often enough, bragging about the decline of his once great city, telling him that the walls were crumbling around them and there was nothing he, or they, could do.

But with Mari at his side? The thought had his heart quickening. With her at his side, they could do so much. She had told him how the women gaining power in political stances was helping their nation, giving it a more understanding and compassionate side while the men kept the government as strong as they could.

It was the women, she had boasted, that had set their nation apart from the others. Dictatorships were causing countries to go into ruin, starvation and death reaping the lands at one of the fastest rates ever seen.

Ambrose understood, on a basic level, what she was trying to say to him. She had been so straight-forward when teaching him, even though her hands waved in front of her. He almost smiled at the thought.

His mother had been like that, talking with her hands, always poking people to get their attention. Mari’s laugh reminded him a lot of his mother’s. The way her eyes lit up, the shimmer in her tail when she was excited, her gentle demeanor yet her anger issues…

The Octopians had ripped that all away from his family.

His mother, Braix’c, had been one of the first to try to live on land. After a fight with their father, she had swam off—and not returned for days. Finally, word came of where she had gone.

Ambrose had gone with his father to get her, thinking that maybe the voice of her son would convince the woman to come back. He could still remember how excited he’d been to go and see her, to bring her back to their people.

A rush of pain so intense crashed through him as he remembered his father screaming at him to leave, to get his mother before it was too late.

Too late.

He was always too late.

Too late to save his mother. Too late to save his father. Too late to figure out Ceto’s hatred. Too late to save his city.

Too late for everything.

But now, he was being “invited” back to the castle, at the request of the new king, for his brother. Was that a chance for him to take back his throne? Did he even want it? He swallowed thickly, jaw clenching.

Mari. Her government. Her ideas and her laughter. For her, he would. But only for that. He had no obligations to the people that had sent him to thousands years of torture. But he did have an obligation to the woman riding beside him, for all of the help she had given him.

If he could replace her surface with Atlantis, he would. It might seem irrational, it might result in another banishment if he lost the battle, but…if he had the chance to give Mari an easier adjustment to the rest of her life in the ocean?

He would fight.

For her.

D’Rai glided away from the dais, trailing her hand over the ancient inscriptions, watching with impassive eyes as they glowed bright red.

“The sea has been awaiting him,” she intoned, looking at her sister.

D’Marci nodded, stick-straight hair sliding over her shoulder. “It has. Our brothers are foolish to have waited this long for his return.”

“Yes, they were. But they must have known, otherwise they wouldn’t have sunk the ship that the mortal was on.”

D’Marci followed after her sister, also trailing her fingers along the black marble. The path was hot from her sister’s hand, but a sign that she was speaking with the earth. Atlantis was the heart of the world, the heart of every living thing. Without it, everything would be no more.

No humans.

No animals.

No substance.

And most importantly, no gods.

“Was that not too much, though? All of the humans on that ship died except Mari.”

“It was what was planned, sister. We do not question our brothers, and they do not question us. It is the way of our pantheon and you would do wise to remember that.”

D’Marci focused on her sister, touching her shoulder. D’Rai stopped moving and turned to look at the blonde god.

They were twins, two of the same stone, and one of the same soul. They were bound together by fate, guided by simplicity, and driven with a cunning instinct. There had not been a time in history when they weren’t together, which was the same for their brothers.

D’Marci had the same long, straight, blonde hair that D’Rai had. She had the same blood-red eyes, the same thin stature, the same elegant gate, and the same impassive voice. The only way to tell them a part was by their gestures and actions. D’Rai was stern, her sister was compassionate.

While they were, by creed and by nature, emotionless, that did not stop them from striving to experience things at a humane level.

“Maybe it is time for change,” D’Marci murmured.

“Why would we change when our ways have carried on an entire society for thousands of years? It would be dangerous, and our brothers would never approve.” They could never change the ways of society; it would be the ultimate destruction, worse than what Ceto had done.

“The woman. You picked her out of all of the humans on that ship to be the one to survive. Can you lie to me by saying you did not expect Ambrose to react to her? We know what he is thinking, what he is planning. Taking over Atlantis for her and instilling new law for her is not change? A new government that he is basing off of her own people is not the change that you felt we needed, when you chose her?”

The black marble swirled into a deep gray beneath their hands. The temple followed it’s route, the large pillars surrounding them filled with the gray that reflected their turmoil. The sisters’ temple was great and spacious. Four pillars were placed at each corner of the room, holding up the ceiling. In the center of the ceiling were four stripes of silk that crossed the room. Two were black, symbolizing their status, and the other two were red, for their power. They were the fates of Atlantis while their brothers, who were pale in coloring, the same as them, were the structure of Atlantis.

D’Rai ignored here sister’s question, letting her eyes close. She thought to herself, blocking out her sister’s invasion of her mind, and whispered, “He could be prosecuted for turning the mortal into an Atlantean breed.”

“If that were to happen, we would intervene. Do not deny it.”

She didn’t. What her sister said was true. Ambrose was the heir of the ocean. He had gone through a torture that many men had not been, and the gods had let it happen. Up until recently, they had never realized it had been Ceto.

The minor goddess stayed hidden in the shadows and drew no attention to herself. She had the ability to go off the grid, and on rare occasions, even the gods could not find her. Her hidden lair, a small cave hidden deep in the pacific, had been found by chance—and thank the sea for that.

Ambrose had disappeared after the trial. The gods hadn’t been able to trace him, and they hadn’t cared. To them, he had wronged their people and that was all there was to it. Rationality, to the gods, was simplicity. It was what they ruled by. The simple thing to do was get rid of the threat, and rationality said to let him go.

The rules they lived by were twisted, but it had worked. No one in Atlantis wanted to face the gods wrath, so they followed the rules and did their duty, which was to keep the race surviving.

“What did you mean by the mortal coming upon Ambrose,” D’Marci asked. In truth, the whole scheme with the mortal had been up to D’Rai. C’Xarion had been the one to sink the ship, but D’Rai had chosen the female. He left such matters to the sisters, as always.

Except, this time, D’Rai had not involved her sister. And for the first time in a millennia, a rift had been caused between them. D’Marci had only found out moments ago what they had done, happening upon her sister as she had stood over the portal that gave the gods view into the mortal, and Atlanean, plane.

“I feel as if...” She stopped. Stared back at the portal. “After what we have done to Ambrose, he may have a chance to be happy and regain the throne. Without him, Atlantis will perish. It has been much too long for our city to be without its main power, but we cannot have a tainted being representing us.

“If Ambrose were to go back now, alone, he would be bitter and malicious. He might be a changed man, but he still has the heart of a warrior. And a warrior will always keep his enemies close with acrimony and disdain. It is impossible to tell if he will want to decimate the people who wronged him. But with the mortal, this Mari, I heard his laugh.”

D’Marci showed no reaction, even though the dead yet pulsing organ in her chest filled.

“Ambrose is like the child I never had,” D’Rai whispered, becoming completely still. “When his mother died, he looked to us, to me. He looked for affection and guidance. And we, sister… We gave it to him. We listened to his prayers, his tormented cries. For the first time since my beginning, I felt something. For Ambrose. It was the closest I could ever get to feeling like a real mother."

D'Marci stood silently as the softness of D'Rai's words rang around the black temple. The one time Ambrose had come to their temple, she had seen it for herself, but after that—never again.

The small spark of joy, the tenderness, the soft laughter that she had heard from her sister. It had been as real as Ambrose's desolation was, and as painful for D'Marci to watch as witnessing his destruction.

The gods were unfeeling...to anything but the cry of their people. It was their hidden curse, the only thing that kept them going. They did not sleep, they did not eat, and they did not feel happiness.

They wandered the temples like a ghost, knowing that their time with the Atlanteans was short. The new generation was losing interest, technology advancing at an alarming rate. It gave the new Atlanteans reason to replace the gods that had created them.

"What do we do?" she breathed, feeling the weight of Atlantis on her shoulders. D'Marci knew her sister could read the route her thoughts had taken.

"We wait. The fight has yet to come...But maybe we can send him some help."

D'Marci looked at her sister levelly. "We cannot send him. He is not ready to be out in the world yet-"

"Sister. He has been kept hidden for too long. Revealing him now, and to the future king no less, would be dangerous. Deimos is not ready for this yet-"

"No matter that. Where is he now?"

D'Marci's eyes flared. She would not win this battle. When D'Rai wanted something, she got it.

"He is safe," she said. Her sister could not really mean to unleash one of the most dangerous beings in the sea, could she? Deimos had no bearings of friend or enemy. He was a mindless animal with only one thing on his mind—destruction.

"Tell me, sister, where our pet lies." Her voice, and the set of her mind, broke no argument. Desperate times called for desperate measures, D'Rai thought, before letting out a soft breath, searching for Deimos.

His presence was barely perceptible, but he couldn't be far from them. He roamed the temples aimlessly, his only loyalty to the gods. Sweet Atlantis, the creature could barely speak.

D'Marci had been the one to find him, nearly twelve thousand years ago. And as a creature of intense loyalty, he had bonded with the young goddess. Only she could sense him, could tame him. The thought of sending Deimos out into the open world where he could—and would—easily wreak destruction, caused a rift to form in her chest.

"He is with C'Xarion," she said upon sensing him. Her eyes opened to see D'Rai's eyes red eyes turn a glowing, neon red. D'Marci stepped back, knowing this was a terrible idea.

"Send him to Ambrose."

"Are we not going to warn him?"

D'Rai's lips curled at the corners in the form of a smile. "What kind of gods would we be if we didn't enjoy watching the show?"

“Are you tired?”

“No,” Mari said mid-yawn.

They had been traveling for hours. Mari talked herself quiet by the time they were only a couple miles away from F-Inn, despite Ambrose urging her into conversation. She had gone back into that silent state where all she did was think with her face screwed up.

He found that he didn’t like it when she did that. Mari was too much of a bright, happy person to be so silent.

What is she thinking of? he asked himself, smoothing his hand over the dolphins side and almost smiling when it squealed at him. How much she regrets doing this? How boring he is? How much she wants to go to the surface?

Or was she silent because she was deep in thought over what had happened the night before. When he had held her, kissed her, tasted her. His body hardened at the memory of what had happened between them.

Sweet Atlantis, what he wouldn’t give to have that chance again. To have her in his arms, her soft cries echoing into his ears, her legs wrapped around his waist—or his neck as he plunged his tongue inside of her. The thought was like an elixir, drugging him just as she did.

Ambrose glanced at her, taking in the mulling expression, the scrunched eye brows, and the bitten lip. He would love to be changing that, turning her face into one of complete rapture, just as he had seen it before. Making her scream his name, cry out for more, her sole concentration focused on him.

Mari met his eyes and then looked away quickly. His shoulders fell. She obviously did not feel the same as him. He could only imagine what was going through her mind right now, but decided not to think too hard on it.

The dolphins both came to a gradual stop, squealing with disappointment. “Sorry, friends. It’s time for the lady to rest.”

As Ambrose took the reins out of Mari’s hands, the dolphins chattered to him understandingly. The one Mari had been riding turned and brushed it’s nose against her arm before pushing away from them with her friend, most likely going off to find some food.

“I said I wasn’t tired,” she mumbled, even as her eye lids started to droop.

“I’m sure you aren’t,” he said gently, taking her arm.

He’d picked the perfect spot to rest at without even thinking—and wanted to punch himself. Even if he had found the best place, he still should have checked beforehand and made sure it was adequate for her.

The small grove was just an indent in the ground, with cushioning seaweed as the perfect bed for Mari. It was only small enough for one person, but there was a ledge where he could sit to keep watch over her.

“Ambrose, this looks really small…”

He nodded, pushing her into the grove. Mari grabbed his hand, though, and held on. Her eyes were wide with worry, probably the only emotion he’d seen from her in hours besides frustration or whatever it was on her face while she was thinking.

“I know; do not worry. Just lie down and sleep,” he commanded, taking her hand off of his arm. Her lips turned into a pout, making his heart do weird things. Sweet Atlantis, could her eyes get any bigger?

“But where will you sleep?” she asked, worrying her lip. He tried not to notice how plump and full it was, or how white her teeth were against the soft pink flesh. Ambrose was going to punish himself when he had the time—who was he to think about Mari that way when he repulsed her?

“Up there,” he said indifferently, trying to make himself not be affected.

“What if it gets cold?” she asked, her voice small. Those damn silvery eyes widened even more, the thick lashes sweeping back and making him pause.

“Ah—it won’t,” he said, snapping his eyes away from her. “Your skin is at a constant high now, so it’s not a concern. If you get too cold, your nervous system will tell your…Mari, what are you doing?”

She had grabbed his hand in an unbreakable grip and was now trying to drag him to the spot with her. “You lay there,” she ordered, forcing him in front of her. Her tail lapped at his gently, and he jerked.

“No, it’s for you to sleep there—Mari, do not do that with your tail!” he gasped, appalled when she only continued. “Stop doing that—just lay down and stop—“

“No, Ambrose. Lay down!” She trailed her fin town the length of his own, making him have to stifle a groan. Why was she doing this to him? She obviously knew how it made him feel, and he knew it affected her. So why was she torturing them like this?

“I can’t,” he said tightly, holding in another moan. “Really, Mari. Stop it—“

She stopped pushing at his back for a second, and he thought he had gotten off easy. He was about to turn around when something slammed into his back, driving him into the tiny field of seaweed. First came the shock, and then the grunt.

Mari had wrapped her arms around his neck, and he was now on face-first in seaweed. Her breasts were pressed against his back, hip-to-hip—and Ambrose was all too aware of it. Even from behind him, she was all softness and warmness and perfectness, which was way too much for Ambrose to handle.

“Why did you do that,” he growled, closing his eyes against a wave of desire so intense it had his body tensing.

“Well,” she said smartly, taking her arms from around his neck and grabbing his shoulders, flipping him over onto his back as best she could. He helped her by following what she wanted him to do, and he found himself laying on his back, with Mari laying comfortably on top of him.

Great. Just…how swimmingly perfect.

If he could keep his legs dormant until she fell asleep, he would be so grateful. So completely, utterly grateful.

She peered at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I need a snuggle buddy to keep me warm.”

Ambrose frowned. “I already told you—“

“And,” she said, looking at him sternly, “I need you to make sure no worms invade my body.”

“Oh, wow.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing, beginning to push her up. “I also already told you that that’s just how we heal.”

Her head shook, and then she flopped against his chest. With a sense of finality—again, this was just great. “You would be a lot more comfortable if you let me go up there—“ She cut him off, covering his mouth with her hand.

“Ambrose, save me the excuses. I want to be here, you want to be here, we both want to be here.” She wagged her brows at him. “So why fight it?” Mari let her head fall against his pectoral and her long, silken hair wafted around him.

It was too beautiful to bother him.

Damn it, Ambrose, he scolded himself. Get a hold of yourself and stop thinking of Mari like that. She’s too good for you.

But how could he stop when her body was pressed right against his, when he could smell how delicious she was, when he could simply put his hand at the back of her neck and kiss her?

He groaned mentally.

That’s right.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Or wanting to have her.

“Hey, Ambrose?”

Mari’s drowsy, confused, baby-pitched voice snapped him out of his thoughts. And, as glanced down at her, he had to admit that that was probably the most adorable thing to ever come out of her mouth simply because she was tired—

“Do mermaids fart?”

“What?” he asked, completely aghast.

“Mermaids. Farts. Do they?” Her eyes closed completely, head lolling more loosely against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, then closed his eyes on a sigh.

“Just go to sleep, Mari,” he murmured, smoothing her hair down. She nuzzled his chest before letting out a final sigh, falling into an even, deep sleep.

Do mermaids fart?

What kind of question was that?

His Mari was just too much for him sometimes—

His. Mari wasn’t his. She would never be his. What was he thinking? Ambrose slammed his head back into the cushioning seaweed, railing at himself. Really, what was wrong with him that he was calling Mari his?

Everything. That’s what.

She would never want to be with someone like him—and when the time came that she found an Atlantean male of her own, he would let her go. They were too different, he was too damaged, and he was way too exiled. To be with someone like him would mark her as an outcast more than she already was.

But as the soft exhale of water fanned over his chest, his arms tightened possessively. Some other male? With her? Hearing her cries, her laughter, her moans?

No! something inside of him roared. No one could have Mari—she was too good for any of the males under the sea, including him.

Ambrose stared down at her, tracing her features.

He would never be good enough for anyone. He hadn’t been a good enough male for Aixya, hadn’t been a good enough friend to Ceto. What made him think he could put any kind of claim, on any woman?

All thought of Mari fled.

Aixya.

The first woman to ever catch his interest, and his best friend's wife. The woman had been complete perfection. Innocently bred, pure-blood, minor goddess… So kind hearted and genteel, he thought, thinking back to so many years ago.

She’d been…amazing. Her hair was as long as Mari’s, except red as fire. Her eyes had been one of the softest colors of blue he’d ever seen, and the bow of her lips…

He frowned. She didn’t completely match up to Mari. Aixya was taller than Mari, for sure. She was also too gentle, too understanding. She refused to see the bad in anyone, and always had. There was no such thing as a “bad Atlantean” in her eyes.

But with Mari…

Ambrose knew that if he had been in the same fight at F-Inn with Aixya, instead of Mari, she would have broken down completely. He had, at one point, thought of her as the perfect material as the queen to his king. But as the king, he had had duties…like training. Wars. Long nights away from home where he wouldn’t always be at her beck and call—and he knew from Maxroy that he had to be there with her. But it wasn’t like his best friend minded…like Ambrose would have.

Mari could take care of herself. She’d proven that to him when, not only had she helped him to the water despite being nearly hysterical and delusional, but when she had survived the transformation—spitting mad.

Mari was perfect material for being queen. She knew government, she was a teacher, she had an understanding heart, she could handle one of the most ridiculous things to her people—being turned into a “mermaid”. The fact that she still had a brain at all?

Amazing.

Turning people into Atlaneans had, at one point, been banned. Too many mortals lost their minds and became so insane they ended up killing themselves, and those around them. It was either land or water—and those who were born there, stayed there.

The irony of it all? Ambrose had been the one to make the law, and was probably the only one to have broken it since. After The Destruction, Atlanteans lost most of, if not all, contact with the mortals. The few weeks that he had had before the trial had given him enough insight to predict what would happen—and going by the reports that Ceto had braggingly given him over the years, he had been correct.

Mari jerked in his arms, snapping him back to the present. Her face was scrunched up and red, like she was about to cry. Panic shot through his chest.

Women cried? In their sleep?

Ambrose stared at her as her face got redder and redder, mouth twisting into a pained grimace. “Oh, gods,” he whispered, smoothing back her hair and gently rubbing her back. “Don’t cry; it’s okay. Please don’t cry, Mari.” The last one wasn’t really a plea for her, but for himself. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if she started crying in her sleep. Would he have to wake her up? Or would she only cry worse?

He was just about to shake her awake before she murmured something.

Ambrose frowned. It had sounded like a name.

He bent his head closer to her mouth as her face turned less pained and more furious. Even in her sleep, Mari was a spitfire. The thought comforted him, even as he strained to hear what she was saying.

She whispered it again.

Rain? Pay?

Ambrose almost yelped when her fingers dug into his chest, magically turning into claws. He grabbed her wrist and tried to pry her hand away, but she only dug into him even harder.

“Bastard…Ray…”

“Ray?” he repeated, stilling.

Who is Ray?

And why had Mari almost cried over him?

He didn’t have time to think on it before she snarled and used her other hand to claw him. Oh, sweet Atlantis—Ambrose grabbed her wrists, extracting her claws out of his chest. He held them away from him and breathed a sigh of relief when they took to tearing up the seaweed next to them instead.

And then, right as she was growling in her sleep again, he heard a sound.

It was small, barely perceptible, but he heard it nonetheless.

A chill worked its way down his back, and he thought that even Mari knew something was wrong. She became not only still, but silent.

He thanked the gods for a fleeting second before gently grabbing her shoulder and her head, twisting them around so that her back was now resting in the bed of seaweed. The sound came again, this time pulsing through the waves as if beckoning to him.

Ambrose quickly adjusted the longest pieces of seaweed around Mari so that she was partially covered before giving her one last look.

Only five feet out of the grove, Ambrose knew that it hadn’t been the dolphins’ return making the sound. It was a rhythmic thumping, like someone—or something—was swimming towards them with their tail smacking at the ground. Ambrose’s heart rate kicked up as he pushed through the water quickly, his senses expanding. The creature was large, and only a couple yards away—

And apparently invisible, because a couple yards in front of him was completely empty space with no living thing in sight besides groups of coral and schools of fishes.

Instantly, his guard was up and his hands were moving in a slow, pulsing movement, centering around a small spot in front of him. If they were being hunted, he was not going to stand around and let the attack happen.

Mari had to be protected. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

As he formed the small ball of energy, he willed the akrina to come to him. In seconds, it was joining itself within the ball of energy and forming a growing ball of heat. The orb of power pulsed through his hands, heating them up to an almost painful degree.

The knife that began to protrude from the side of the ball was metallic, burning the tip of his finger as the sharp point brushed against him. The small pain died off as the rest of the blade began to push through the ball.

Two seconds later, he was holding the intricately designed handle of his ancient blade and hefting it for a fight—

Right as something large, fast, and invisible slammed into him.

The breath rushed out of his chest the second the impact hit him, knife nearly slipping from his grasp. His training came back in a rush, all of the techniques and moves flitting through his brain.

He went with the force that pushed against him, then thrust his tail downward to quickly bring himself upright. Ambrose gasped for water, pushing his hair away from his face, scanning the horizon.

The sound, and the force that had hit him, were completely gone. Not even particles of the water were shifting in its wake. The only thing that was in the small clear was Ambrose...with Mari several feet away.

Oh fuck.

Mari.

He had left her completely unprotected and there was a threat—

The thing slammed into him again, throwing him to the side. Too caught up in fearing for Mari, Ambrose didn’t have time to adjust himself. His shoulder crashed into the ground right as he felt the steel blade against his throat.

Ambrose cursed, moving only his eyes in the direction of the knife—and still, there was nothing there. He reached out a hand, narrowing his eyes.

Skin. He felt skin—

The creature began to reveal itself, and Ambrose swore he would have rather died than be in the spot he was right now.

Twice as huge as Ambrose himself was, the creature was half-blood Atlantean, and half-blood God. His stomach revolted at the idea, even as the proof of it stared him in the eye with emotionless red depths that could tell a man his future in one second and steal his soul the next.

Black tattoos were laced over his shoulders and down his back, the same exact dark color as his tail. The papery fin was jagged at the edges, and a pure blood red. Going up as a stripe on both sides of his tail, ending at his hip, were ancient inscriptions written in a glaringly bright red that were, at the moment, glowing.

As he stood over Ambrose, the creature’s blade poised at the delicate stretch of his neck, the terror over Mari began to turn into one of complete fury.

Deimos stood before him now. One of the oldest creatures since the gods’ creation that still remained alive today, one of the most dangerous beings in the universe except for the gods themselves, was about to bury his blade inside Ambrose’s throat and leave Mari completely defenseless.

The thought sparked something inside of him.

He had no clue how, or what, or why, but what he did next was only because Mari would be terrified to wake up to dying because of a creature like Deimos. He was a soulless killer, had no rationality whatsoever, and only came out of the cave when he was told to by the gods.

So the gods either wanted him, or Mari, dead. And either way, both of them would die, because Ambrose was not going to go out before Mari was protected.

“Gods,” the creature growled, his voice nothing but a tumble of sound over rocks. The sound cast a shiver down his spine as Ambrose began positioning the hilt of his blade in a striking position.

Ambrose gripped the hilt tightly, aiming for his side. He had to get the fucker off of him and get to Mari—

“Help.”

Ambrose paused.

“Help?” he echoed. Ambrose kept his dagger hand ready for attack.

“Gods sent…help.” Those emotionless eyes flickered with something like confusion, before instinct took over. The creature snapped around, ripped the dagger out of his hand, and with a perfect, swooping motion, sent the thing flying right at the akrina.

His companion absorbed the thing like a piece of food.

“Not to attack,” Deimos grated. He slowly moved back from Ambrose, letting him get to his feet.

What the fuck was going on.

“Ambrose?”

He nearly growled at the sound of Mari’s voice. Turning around slowly, making sure to keep himself between her and Deimos. “Yes, Mari?” he asked cautiously, blocking her view of the completely destructive creature that was behind him.

“Who’s that?” Her voice showed a hint of worry, matching the look in her eye. “He isn’t going to kill us, is he? I saw…”

He closed his eyes, sighing, shaking his head. Ambrose cast a dark look at Deimos before gently grabbing her arm and guiding her a couple feet away from the creature. He began to follow them, but Ambrose glared at him again.

Deimos stayed.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” he began, running a hand over his jaw. Shame coursed through him like a wave, making guilt rise. Mari shouldn’t have ever seen something like that.

She worried her lip, reaching up. Shock froze Ambrose, holding him still as her fingers lightly brushed over the spot where Deimos’s blade had been. A shiver wracked his body.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I was going to do something, but have you seen the size of that guy? Figured you had it under control ‘cause I saw you with the knife…I didn’t want to make it worse for you by scaring you.”

She had been willing to put herself in danger because of him?

His heart stopped in his chest. Ambrose was unable to stop himself from wrapping his arms around her, crushing her against him. “If you see something like that,” he growled, “don’t you ever intervene. You could get killed.” And it could have been your slip of the blade to do it.

Mari shocked him by resting her cheek on his shoulder. Warmth spread through him at the action, and then a relief like nothing he had ever felt before made him light headed.

“Yes, sir,” she said lightly, tilting her head up to flash a smile. “Are you done being a worry-wart?”

He frowned, tightening his arms around her. “I’ve never heard of a worry-wart.”

Instead of elaborating, Mari sighed and shook her head, then looked passed his shoulder. “So…Mr. Scary Killer guy. Is he a friend, then? I mean, since he didn’t kill us and all that.”

She looked past his shoulder with a hopeful look in her eye. Immediately, he blocked her view. She found the creature that was made for death and destruction appealing? Ambrose snarled, unable to stop it from rolling through his chest. No. She couldn’t. She was hi—

Not his.

Sweet Atlantis.

“For now, Mari, he is neither friend nor foe, and I would really like it if you could keep your distance from him until we find out what—“

She shot past him with a flick of her tail, leaving a tiny wave behind her to slap him in the face. Before he knew it, Mari was grabbing Deimos by the hand, despite his ripping snarls and violent jerks.

She kept on holding, though, speaking at a mile an hour.

“What do the tats mean? Why are you glowing? What’s your name? Do mermaids fart? Do you fart? Are you a mermaid? Why did you try to kill Ambrose? Thank you for not doing that. I would hate to have to go to Atlantis on my own. I hear that mermaids don’t eat anymore—do you eat? Have you ever had a steak? You look really burly for an ‘Atlantean’,” she said, her face twisting as she said the term like it was unpleasant. She gulped for water, barely giving Deimos a chance to respond.

“Where did you come from? Can you speak English? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mari stopped dragging him behind her, thwacking her tail against the ground and then crossing her arms over her chest.

Ambrose watched, too stunned to think about her safety.

“Well?” she asked impatiently.

“Well.” His response was only a mimic of her own. Slowly, Mari’s eyes widened.

“You can’t speak English?”

Ambrose shoved a hand over his face. You have got to be kidding me, he thought, exasperated

“….No,” Deimos answered, sounding like he was choking and snarling at the same time. Before Ambrose had been inducted as the king, he had had to have a special meeting with the gods. Not that it was abnormal for them to meet, but the night of his coronation, he’d met Deimos. Even then, the Atlantean god had been as silent and as dangerous as anything Ambrose had ever met.

Deimos was the only creature, despite the gods, to scare off a whole pack of Octopians. He ate them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and anyone who tried to get in his way of a kill would just add themselves to the menu.

He was rarely let out. Only one other time had Deimos been let out—only to be immediately called back. In seconds, small side-cities to Atlantis had been destroyed, hundreds of Atlantean males dead, and four very distraught gods.

Ambrose, upon finding out, had been furious. He’d threatened D’Rai that he would never speak to her again should Deimos be let out. But, here he was, a gift from the gods, staring at Mari as if she were a two-headed serpent that he wouldn’t mind eating.

Ambrose grasped Mari by the arm, pulling her back to him. Deimos cast a detached look towards them before silently following them as Ambrose continued to drag the aghast female by her arm.

“You can’t talk to him like that,” he growled, hating himself for how worried and…protective he was over her. Protective or possessive? Either one was horrible.

“Well, obviously. He doesn’t understand a word I’m saying!”

“He doesn’t understand a word anyone is saying,” Ambrose said, ignoring the thrill that shot through his body when Mari pressed against him.

“But that’s…impossible. He has to know some kind of language. He didn’t kill you, did he? No. So he has to just…comprehend something.”

His eyes flickered at the note of concern in her voice, only to be taken back when her face began to turn red. Oh, god. The woman cried over the most mundane things!

“Mari, don’t,” he begged, rubbing a hand down her back gently. She sniffled, looking at Deimos, who snarled. “He’s the equivalent of an animal, and you need to treat him as such.”

Aaaaaand, apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Instantly, a sob bubbled up her throat. “He must not have any family!” she cried, shoulders shaking with emotion. A little too much, he thought. He had known that the transformation turned ones hormones and feelings hay-wire, but he had never known they would escalate to this extent. He suspected that she normally was not so emotional...and instantly started to feel guilty over what he had done to her—over what he had put her through.

Ambrose exhaled sharply, staring at Mari. He didn’t know what to do to stop the crying, but it was quickly making him feel like he’d kicked a seal pup—and it was not an appealing feeling.

“Of course he does,” he said uneasily, rubbing her back more.

What else could he do? Ambrose had close to zero experience with comforting a woman in non-sexual ways.

“You lie!” she hissed, pushing away from him. Her face was still red, but the fire in her eyes let him know she was done crying. Thank lord.

Ambrose almost smiled. He would rather have her spitting mad than sobbing senselessly—

The thought immediately fled his mind as Mari swam back to Deimos, wrapping her tiny arms around his thick body and clutching. “It’ll be okay!” she cried against him, patting his back and shoulder. “You might have almost killed Ambrose, but we forgive you—It’ll be okay, sweet Deimos. I’ll take care of you, I’ll teach you my ways—the ways of your people!” she whispered fiercely, not even noticing the way his hand began to clench around the blade he still held, or the way his low rumbling growl rolled through the sea as forcefully as an earthquake.

“I promise, since I’m stuck here and you’re alone, I’ll do everything I can to help you learn—and so will Ambrose.” She sniffled, looking at the said helper with huge, hopeful eyes. “Won’t you, Ambrose?”

He shot forward, ripping Mari off of Deimos just as the big bear-paw was reaching up to grab at Mari. “You can’t just do that, Mari. He might have stopped himself from offing me once, but that doesn’t mean he’ll know not to a second time. Just stay away from him.”

“But, Ambrose!” she exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders in a strong grip. Her voice was thick with distress. “He needs to learn compassion and love and happiness and how to smile and how to laugh—Deimos doesn’t look like someone who knows how to do anything like that? Do you see the sorrow in his bloody red eyes?” She asked the question with complete seriousness.

Ambrose looked at Deimos—who promptly snarled at them.

He scratched at the back of his neck, staring at Mari. “Ah…sure, if that’s what you see…”

“The poor man is a tiny lost soul in the sea, and we must guide him,” she said promptly, nodding her head with self-assertion. Mari turned around to march her way back to Deimos, but Ambrose grabbed her by the shoulders.

“I think you should give him time to adjust to all of this…emotion. Alright, Mari?” he asked, then began dragging her back to the grove, not giving her a chance to say anything else.

She huffed, but followed after waving at Deimos coaxingly.

Ceto set the nail filer down on the dresser, sighing.

“Come in!”

The banging on the small shack stopped as the door opened, revealing a hunky piece of man that she wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of.

She purred, standing to her feet.

“Hello, Austux.” The smile in her voice, and on her face, was pure sex. She slid up his body like a cat would, wrapping her arms around his neck and arching her back so that she pressed into his chest.

“Mmm,” he murmured, taking her in his arms and giving her a heated kiss. She moaned, sliding her tongue into his mouth. She grasped his neck with cool, silky hands, loving how warm and dominant he was.

Ceto was just getting into the kiss when he pulled back, coughing roughly. “I have news. I figured you would want to hear it.”

She pouted, but stepped back from his embrace, flaring her hand out. “Please, have a seat at the table. I’ll get us some drinks and you can tell me your ‘news’.”

As he moved past her, he looked around the shack with appreciation. “Why the new place? Not that I’m complaining. It’s an upgrade from that cave you once dragged me to.”

Ceto hid her frown. The cups were in the cupboard above the tiny fridge that she'd had installed. Walking over to it, and making sure to swing her hips enough to catch her friend’s eyes—which she did, she saw with a pleased smile—Ceto picked out two wine glasses and a bottle of Kinky.

The pink, fruity liquid was her favorite. Ever since she had been given some at a night club, something that mortals were fond of going to, she had become addicted.

She shrugged as she sat down, sweeping the blue wrap she wore over her legs. Ceto crossed her legs at her knees, exposing some serious thigh.

“It’s so relaxing here. Still near the ocean but living under the sky. Tell me what you learned,” she murmured, taking a slow sip. The fruity, alcoholic beverage slid down her throat and she nearly sighed.

Yeah, Kinky was the shit.

Austrux swallowed before meeting her eyes, accepting the drink she handed him.

The male was perfect, in every way. He had beautiful blonde locks, pretty blue eyes, and an amazing body that knew how to give her what she wanted, when she wanted it. The way he got nervous around her was pretty appealing as well, she thought with a smirk.

“At the end of the meeting, I took it upon myself to see if Ambrose was actually still alive. I couldn’t believe it,” he said, disgust lining his voice and face.

Ceto instantly tensed.

“Go on,” she murmured, setting down the Kinky.

Austrux nervously put down his glass. From outside the open window of her little beach-shack, the sound of lapping waves wafted into the room. Seagulls squawked in the distance, their warning cries started because of the danger that Ceto was now emitting. She tried to use the calming scent of salty water to hide her emotions, but it was a lost cause.

News of Ambrose had her on the edge of her seat, and Austrux noticed.

“He has his guard up so I couldn’t find him like that...but I sensed something. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. It held so much power, strength, innocence. The strangest thing,” he muttered, staring at the table blankly as he recalled the memory.

“Alright,” she said impatiently, waving a hand. “Get to the part of Ambrose. Is he really dead?”

No one knew that Ceto had been the one to take Ambrose for herself. Her pretty little cave was closed off to the rest of Atlantis. The only reason that Austrux knew of it was because some odd thousand years ago, she’d invited him over for a drunken night of sex. That had been before Ambrose, of course, so there hadn’t been a chance of Austrux seeing him.

She’d just made sure to guard her cave so strongly that not even her side-lover would know it’s whereabouts again.

“No. He’s not.” His lip curled with complete and utter revulsion. Ceto knew that with The Destruction, Austrux had lost his little brother and sister and had never forgiven the king for it. What would he think of her if he knew the truth? she thought.

She would probably lose a fuck buddy. The thought saddened her. No, she couldn't have that happen; Austrux was too valuable to her—especially with this new information...

“Really?” she gasped, hand flying to her mouth. “How did you manage to find him?!”

“The girl that was with him,” he said, eyes narrowing. “A girl of the gods, apparently. Her tail was like the previous queens. It was so uncanny, yet so...beautiful,” he whispered.

The reverence died off in a second, though. In an instant, his eyes were hardening. “She was cuddling up to Ambrose like a bitch in heat—that is, after this thing paid them a visit. I watched from the sidelines, but damn it. The whole time I was watching, I wanted the huge fuck to just kill Ambrose. It didn’t, though.

“You want to know what the thing did?” he hissed. “Grabbed the heir’s blade, aimed right at me, and then threw it!” he growled, slamming his fist on the table. The glasses of Kinky bounced.

“If that thing hadn’t been there, I would have killed the heir myself! The girl, though...” He looked at Ceto appreciatively. “I think we could have had some fun with her.”

Ceto was thinking too hard to hear a word he said. Ambrose, with a god that wasn’t one of the main four? And another creature traveling with them? Shit. Just…shit. If Austrux couldn’t handle the thing, then neither could she.

“Where were they last?” she asked urgently, getting to her feet and collecting the glasses. She dumped the pink liquid down the drain quickly, rounding on Austrux when he took too long to answer. “Tell me!”

He looked at her with wide eyes before frowning, thinking. “Last I saw them was in the Pacific, just a couple miles away from the portal to Atlantis. Why? Ceto, you can’t mean to go after them—”

She grabbed him by the arm, hauling him up. “Out. Get out. I’ll find you in a bit, but I need to take care of some things. It was lovely to see you, can’t wait to catch up again, have a nice trip back home—”

“At least let me go with you! It’s too dangerous for you to go alone, with that thing with them—” She shoved him out of the door completely, slamming it in his face.

Ceto pressed her back against the hard wood, mind racing. Something to mess them up. Something to get them all killed. Something to ruin Ambrose’s life again. Screw the gods and their wishes.

Either Ambrose was hers, or he was no ones. And since he wasn’t with her now, she was guessing he had chosen the latter. No problem to her, though.

But first...she wanted to see the girl that had been all over him.

Her snarl ripped through the air as she burst away from the door.

Time to form another plan.

Two hours.

Every time Mari asked, Ambrose would say the same thing over and over again.

Two. Hours.

How long did it take to find an ancient city?

Two hours.

Soon after giving her another lecture on not treating the adorably dangerous Deimos like a lost puppy—he might as well have been, though!—Ambrose had tried to make her ride one of the dolphins.

“What about Deimos?” she’d asked, moving away from the dolphin. It had tittered around her excitedly, but the guilt she had felt over the poor creature was replaced by worry for Deimos.

“He’ll keep up,” Ambrose had said, nudging the rein at her again. She’d refused to take it. “Mari.” He sighed. “Just take the rein. He’ll keep up with us better than he would if he were on a dolphin.”

Mari frowned at him skeptically. “I don’t think so. Let’s just go on foo—tail. Tail. We don’t need the dolphins. Plus, Deimos might feel left out!” At that point, she’d swam back to Deimos, who had looked completely uninterested and completely unaware that they were talking about him.

When he’d growled at her, she had cooed. “Look at him, Ambrose! He’s just so sad, and all alone. We can’t just let him trail behind us like that. No,” she said sternly, pointing a finger at Ambrose. “We are not taking the dolphins if he cannot have one of his own.”

“Mari, he would eat the dolphin.”

She gasped, covering Deimos’s ears. “Don’t say that! The more you say something, the more likely it is to happen. Trust me, I dealt with children like this all of the time back in Westview. Their parents had no faith in them, so they had no faith in themselves. It’s our jobs to restore that faith!”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sweet Atlantis, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Mari glared at him, still keeping her hands over Deimos’s ears. She heard a low rumble right before Ambrose grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her away. “Don’t do that! You’re going to make him feel even more excluded! It’s like you don’t trust him,” she whispered angrily, trying to make sure Deimos didn’t hear her.

“Mari. He is not a pet. He is not an Atlantean we can trust. He is not human. He has no brain of his own. He cannot speak. He is not safe. So stop with the obsession and let me protect you, damn it! You’re going to slip up and he’s going to rip you to shreds. What about this do you not understand?”

Mari stared at Ambrose.

“You just yelled at me.”

Instantly, the anger left his eyes and his face dropped. “Mari, I—”

“You just yelled at me,” she whispered, backing out of his hands.

“I don’t want to see you hurt. The past hour you’ve been flitting between me and Deimos, and each time you go near him, he turns into a rabid eel. He doesn’t know whether to kill you or zap you, and since he’s been told not to, he might end up maiming you.” His voice was rough, the guilt in it making her heart thump a little.

Ambrose was serious about this.

For whatever reason, he refused to see the good in a lonely creature.

“I understand,” Mari said lightly, patting his shoulder. “But you realize... If I weren’t so me, you wouldn’t be free right now, or even talking. Ceto would be all over you. All Deimos needs is a little care.”

He shook his head at her. “You really don’t understand, and I don’t think you will. Atlanteans and gods are different than your mortals. If we have no soul, then we have no soul. There isn’t an in-between. Whatever the gods did to him? They took whatever rationality he had left and ripped it from him. He’s a soulless killer. He doesn’t know right from wrong. And he never will.

“Turn around, Mari. Just turn around and watch him.” He didn’t give her a choice. Grabbing her shoulders gently and turning her around, Ambrose held her firmly against him, and kept her there.

“Do you see his eyes? Do you see how postured he is? He’s dead inside, Mari. There’s no going back.”

She did see. For the first time, she took a minute to actually look inside.

Deimos stood there completely still. He didn’t move. His shoulders were back, his eyes impassively roaming over the land, and the scars that were wrapped around his hips, chest, neck, and arms were glaringly noticeable.

His head snapped around just then, and she flinched. Like an animal. He had sensed them looking at him like an animal would. There was no curiosity in them, no confusion. Just awareness and a blazing gaze of pure red that had a chill running down her spine.

Deimos was nothing like she had thought of him. He wasn’t just some child that was lost and needed guidance. What Ambrose said was true.

All humanity had been stripped from him.

He was like a huge, fluffy grizzly bear with scales instead of fur!

“Do you see it? Do you understand why I’m worried about you?”

Mari turned around, nodding, a smile fitting over her face. “On the surface, we have these things called ‘bears’.”

“Bears?” he asked, beginning to frown. The look on his face told her he didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Yes, bears. Now these bears... Well, they are big, they have claws, and they like to eat fish. Lots and lots of fish. They are naturally wild, but,” she said, holding up a finger, “they can be tamed. Enough that you can play with them, teach them things, and become friends. Do you know who reminds me of a grizzly bear?”

Ambrose groaned.

“Deimos. He’s a big, fluffy bear that went from a bad circus to a good circus!”

“I cannot believe—”

“All he needs is love and affection,” she said firmly, covering Ambrose’s mouth with her hand. “If you don’t want to be there for him, I will.”

“Gods damn it,” he growled around her hand, glaring at her.

“So say sorry for yelling at me,” she demanded, keeping her hand over his mouth.

A look of shame flashed over his face before he took her wrist gently, pulling it away from his face. “I’m sorry for yelling. But, Mari, you can’t just treat him like a pup—”

“Of course I can!” She beamed at him. “He’s like a beat up dog that you found on the street. When he trusts you, he turns into your best friend. Watch, when we get to Atlantis, I’ll have Deimos acting like the most civil being you’ve ever encountered—“

“We’re less than an hour and a half away!” he said, exasperated. “You can’t change a killer in that amount of time.”

“Well, I can try,” she muttered, casting a glance at Deimos. He had turned his attention away from them. Once again, his eyes were roaming over the area. He followed behind them dutifully with his blade out and eyes sharp.

She caught his glance, and he snarled.

Mari waved happily.

“One day you’re going to do that, and he’ll bite your hand off,” he grumbled, shooting a dark look between her and Deimos.

“Oh, quiet. Hey, Ambrose, I have a question.” She faced forward, picking up her pace a little.

“Yes.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what the guys said back there. About my tail. Why did they think I was a god?”

He was silent for a second. His eyes flickered over her tail before he faced forward, shrugging. “Males like that do not often see gorgeous woman,” he said lightly, before his face flushed darkly.

“Wait, what?” she asked, eyes wide. Surely he hadn’t actually said that…

“Nothing,” he said quickly, picking up his speed and getting in front of her. Mari frowned, chasing after him.

“No, what did you say?” she demanded, grabbing his arm to stop him from moving. His skin was hot under her touch, and she noticed that the blush had spread all over his body.

Okay.

So he had said that.

Mari smiled, forgetting about Deimos completely when Ambrose stopped awkwardly in front of her. The look on his face was absolutely adorable. The flush was the deepest red she had ever seen in her life, and he avoided looking at her. He even went as far as to turn his head away.

“Ambrose,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

“That you’re…different. From other Atlanteans. The males had never seen anyone like—“ He stopped, coughing. His hand scraped over his face roughly.

Coming from in front of them, a school of tropical colored fish swam around one of the many boulders, splitting a wide girth around Mari and Ambrose. Mari barely noticed except for the vibrant flash of color, though. Ambrose slowly turned his head, staring at her.

“Go on,” she urged, sliding her hand down his arm and slowly threading her fingers through his.

It was not the perfect time. It was not the perfect place. It wasn’t even the perfect couple. But it felt perfect, and it felt exhilarating, and it felt needed.

“You,” he finished. His voice was deep, rough. It sent a shiver of desire through her body, made her eyes stray to his lips. “I don’t think anyone under the sea has seen anyone like you.” He paused, swallowing.

His head lowered slightly, and her heart rate kicked into overdrive.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, before his lips touched hers in one of the most gentle, most precious kisses she had ever gotten. He pulled back slightly, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re perfect.” Another light brush of his lips. “You’re the kindest being I have ever met.” Another one. “And when we get back to Atlantis?” He cupped her jaw. “I’m taking it back for you.”

Mari melted right then and there. Just completely melted. With her heart in her throat, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed the living daylights out of him.

Ambrose’s lips moved over hers, forging a fire like none she had ever felt before.

It danced along her skin, invaded her soul, made her want to weep with how powerful it was. Ambrose was slowly taking over every thought she had, replacing every bit of reality she had ever known.

As their kiss turned hotter, harder, and more demanding, she swore nothing could have taken her away from that moment. She wrapped her hands around his neck, trying to drag him closer to her. He groaned into the kiss, stroking the fire.

Oh, god—

She nearly missed it. The rush that came from behind her. The sound of a slash being made, the sound of something creaking. She was too immersed in Ambrose to notice that Deimos had come up behind her, taking a defensive stance.

It wasn’t until Ambrose pulled away with a harsh curse that she slowly became aware of her surroundings, of what was happening.

In a second flat, Deimos and Ambrose had her covered, front to back, and both of them had weapons out and both of them were on the defensive, ready for attack.

They were under attack.

Somehow, someway, they had managed to walk right in to an Octopian nest, and they obviously didn’t like that.

Mari was pressed between Ambrose and Deimos, and he was thankful. The more coverage she had, the better. He could sense her fear, her confusion, and it only spurred him on.

He would not make the same mistake that his father had. Adrenaline pulsed through him, gearing him up. He could feel the same with Deimos. The creature gave him a fleeting glance, and a nod.

The signal to begin.

“Take her,” he snarled at Deimos, ignoring Mari’s confused questions.

“Ambrose? What’s happening—No! Get your hands off of me!” she shouted as Deimos wrapped his thick arms around her waist. He turned and stared at Ambrose with those soulless, blood-red eyes, and right then, he could only pray that Mari stayed safe.

Taking her away from the fight would essentially cause half of the Octopian pack to follow them, and that was what he wanted—even though it put Mari in a danger he had never wanted her to be in.

Deimos shot off with a screaming Mari in his arms, going faster than any other being could in the ocean. As the Octopians revealed themselves, inky smoke began to clog his vision. He knew their attack plan and stared through it.

It wasn’t poisonous and wouldn’t damage his eyes—all it did was leave him vulnerable for attack. Long, black tentacles slithered into his view, and through the ink, he counted seven figures.

Ambrose cast a glance over his shoulder, in the direction that Deimos had taken off in. Five had followed them—which was just what he needed. Deimos could take them out with no problem and get Mari to safety, and Ambrose wouldn’t have to worry about her at all.

He willed his akrina to come to his side, which had already begun forming throwing blades, a spear, and a thin sword. He took the blades, which were bound together with leather in a strap, and quickly slung it over his shoulders.

From around him, he could hear the eerie creaking. It could have been a sunken ship, flowing back and forth in the water, but it wasn’t. It was the death call of the Octopians. They had adapted the sound when their first attacks were only drowning passengers.

It didn’t fool him. Cold determination and deadly intent coursed through his blood, jacking up the anticipation of a kill. He was more than ready for this. Ever since the death of his parents, he’d made it his goal to track, maim, and kill every single Octopian he could. They were the sole enemy of the Atlanteans and as many as he could kill, the better.

The ink cleared slowly, and by that time he had all of his weapons strapped on. The akrina wrapped around his body, consuming him, covering him in thin armor. Shoulder blades were covered in red, while the rest was stark onyx. He didn’t take the helmet—it only left ink to get trapped inside of it and cloud his vision more.

He narrowed his eyes through the blackness, and in seconds it was completely cleared. Staring at him like a meal long awaited, were seven of the second most deadly creatures in the sea, Deimos being the first.

There was a very slim chance that he would make it out of this untouched. While he had the help of his akrina and years of experience with hunting and killing, there were seven of them.

Each had eight tentacles, ranging in color from black to a dark violet. They slithered around each other’s bodies, creating a barrier against him. He only grinned.

They all looked the same. Stringy black hair, thin chest, stick-like arms, fangs growing out of the side of their mouths. Their stomachs were caved in from starvation, which made the situation all the more dangerous.

Ambrose took it as a good sign.

The tentacles began at the hips. With ancestors half Atleantean and half octopi, they were the epitome of power and revulsion. He knew the story of how they’d come to be, which was something that most Atlanteans didn’t know. In part, the Octopians were almost his family.

One of the Octopians surged forward, bearing it’s fangs and cackling. He stayed where he was, waiting for them to become more aggressive. The second that happened, he would attack.

Whoever made the first move was more likely to win.

It was something his father had ingrained into his memory. Hit first, hit hard, and cripple—which was exactly what he planned on doing. Ambrose clenched his fist around the hilt of the blade.

“The heir?” one of them hissed. The voice wrapped around his head like a vice, scratchy and high-pitched. Despite their tentacles, their screams were the next worse things.

“A treat for ussss all, indeed!”

“Our pack will be pleasssssed.”

Ambrose smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “That is, if you can get to me. How has your sister pack been doing? Last time I checked, they were at the bottom of the ocean.”

Instantly, the smugness dropped from their ashen faces. “You mongrel! For doing that, you shall pay.”

“Maybe,” he said, “you should learn how to drop a grudge.”

“It was you who killed so many of our ssssister packs! Basssstard! You will die today,” another one snarled.

Ambrose rolled his shoulders, loving the cool metal on his back and hefting the sword. “Have at it.” For threatening Mari, you’re all going to die.

The barrier of their black tentacles loosened, the long appendages slithering in the water. On the far right, the Octopian at the end began to make its move toward him. Before it could attack, he slammed his tail into the ground and shoved himself forward, turning the blade of his sword at a precise angle. Using the momentum that his tail gained him, he released the blade and watched it go through the chest of the closest Octopian.

Instantly, black blood began to pool at the corner of its mouth, streaming upward.

Chaos erupted. All at once, the Octopians surged forward, their screech combining into one so loud that his ears nearly bled. The akrina was on it though, extending its oily paws over his ears and forming a sound-blocking foam. By the time the first Octopian was in striking distance, the screech was a dull buzz and his dagger was slicing through the water.

Before the creature even had a chance to get out of the way, Ambrose had his blade buried into the thing’s chest. Shocked, oily black eyes stared him in the eyes. Two of the other Octopians surrounded him, the remaining three standing back. He eyed their tentacles.

That was the real threat. The ink they were slowly leaking was clouding his vision again because they were obviously sensing that he was a greater threat than they had anticipated. The akrina sizzled around him, heating up his armor.

He willed it to calm, and as he did, he felt it sigh. It was a soft, barely-there sensation that blew past his hair. It carried away the ink and blew it back in their faces.

The three that stayed back narrowed their eyes at him.

He grinned, surging forward. A tentacle wrapped around his arm, jerking him back, and he slammed his back into it. The akrina, at the same time, took control of one of his throwing blades, shooting the sharp dagger straight into the base of the tentacle that had grabbed him.

The Octopian was close enough that the screech it emitted became more high-pitched than the buzz he had heard. Ambrose growled, reaching out with his fist.

He caught the bloody, screaming Octopian in the face, and its head snapped to the side. Ambrose wrapped his hand around its neck, taking another one of his daggers out. Then, before the thing had a chance to wrap it’s tentacles around him, cut a nice little pattern out of the front of its body.

He felt the swoosh of water from behind him, right before another tentacle wrapped around his chest, jerking him away from the already dead Octopian. He slammed his head back, catching the offender in the nose. Another muted scream shot into his ear before Ambrose shoved away from the weakened appendages, turning his body horizontal and banging his tail into the Octopian’s side.

“Did Ceto send you?” he growled, catching the last active Octopian by the neck as it came flying at him. His hand tightened around its neck as the three bystanders began to move. Purple veins popped at the Octopian’s temple.

Pained, black eyes widened and it struggled in his grasp, gurgling. “No! That bitch issss banned. We do not talk to her!”

He felt something brush along his leg and narrowed his eyes at the simpering creature. Immediately, the tentacle removed itself and the surrounding pack stopped all movement.

The dead Octopians were lying motionless on the ocean floor, their bodies quickly decomposing before everyone’s eyes. The tentacles detached from their bodies, floating off into the gentle current of the ocean, leaving them with just their torsos. Disgust rolled through him at the sight. Their thin skin was being pulled from the skeleton frame, papery patches hanging on by threads.

All of the creatures of Atlantean descent in the ocean died like that. Quickly and effortlessly. It happened so fast and completely, that it was essentially impossible for mortals to wander upon a dead body.

The other’s eyes followed his, and the fury that came over their face would have been terrifying to a lesser. But, alas, Ambrose was not a lesser—if anything, it got him going.

“Attack!”

Ambrose heard the cry and smiled with relish. The first couple kills had been done easily, but now all three of the Octopians were coming at him at once? He almost chuckled, tightening his grip on the thin neck before grabbing the thing’s stringy hair.

The knowledge that he was going to die flashed in the Octopian’s gaze right before Ambrose shoved the neck holding hand backward and ripped the hair holding one forward.

The head popped off with a dull snap.

Meeting each of the Octopian’s gazes, he threw the head to the side.

He smiled. Slowly, dangerously.

The head floated to the bottom of the sea floor, passing his fin as it went. Flicking out his tail, he knocked it away from him like a ball.

It crashed into the face of the Octopian floating before him.

They all began to screech, and he laughed.

The fight began.

“Put me down!” Mari raged, slapping at Deimos’s tatted shoulder.

He grunted at her, but continued slicing through the water faster than the speed of light—or at least, that’s what it felt like. Her stomach rolled and her eyes had the hardest time of catching up to her surroundings. It seemed that whenever she finally managed to catch something with her eye, it was gone the next.

“Do you want me to puke on you?” she asked, voice high-pitch. “’Cause I will—I really will!”

Deimos looked at her narrowly, then grunted again.

Of course. She would be the one to get stuck with a man that didn’t know what she was saying and had the ability to kill her without a thought, while she was about to vomit.

Ambrose would kill her for this, but desperate times called for desperate measures. As the ocean began to swirl around her, and her stomach took to a new level of wanting to detach itself from her body.

Reaching up, she put her hands in his hair. He flinched away from her touch and growled, but his speed never lessened. The heaving in her stomach intensified, and right as the bile began to find it’s way up her esophagus, Mari yanked hard on Deimos’s hair.

Immediately, everything stopped.

The spinning. The moving. The grunting.

The heaving.

As the vomit flew out of her mouth, she barely heard Deimos from behind her. Nah, she was way too concentrated on her stomach, which was taking everything she had eaten in the last two days and making a job of getting it out of her.

“That,” she mumbled, pointing at the floating gob of vomit, “is what happens when you don’t listen to me.”

Mari turned around and gave Deimos a hard look. He only stared at her.

She jabbed her finger at it again. His glowing eyes flickered to it for a second and she nodded when she saw the flash of repulsion in his eyes. “See?” she said. “Gross.”

“Gross,” he echoed hollowly.

Then he nodded.

“Now,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Take me back to Ambrose.”

If she didn’t see him soon, touch him to know he was okay, she was going to explode. Deimos had taken her away from Ambrose only moments ago, but it felt like ages. The things that they had left behind were terrifying, like something out of a nightmare from The Little Mermaid.

Take a goblin and mix it with Ursula, then times it by twenty. That’s the only way she could think of them.

Deimos looked passed her impassively.

“Hey,” she snapped, beginning to swim in the direction they had just swam from. “Let’s go.”

She waited for him to follow her, but all he did was stare with his arms crossed over his chest, red eyes indifferent to everything that was going on around him. If his face hadn’t looked so harsh, so strained and controlled, he would have looked bored.

But he didn’t.

Instead, although his eyes were impassive, his face was set and ready for a battle. His hands, even though they were tucked under his arms, were clenched. She could tell by the muscle that was tightening in his thick arms. The sword that was strapped to his back was steely and left ready for use, his back was straight as a board, and his jaw was clenched.

All in all, he looked like a man who had fought so much, he didn’t know what else to do.

She huffed, turning on her tail and flapping away from him. Fine, if he didn’t want to go with her and let her get killed, that was all on him. Mari, however, was not about to let Ambrose fight those nasty Octopians by himself. Deimos could sit there and pretend he was doing something all he wanted, but she—

Thick, forceful hands wrapped around her arm, dragging her back.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, trying to twist out of his grasp. He yanked at her, hard, and she turned around with a growl. “You might not know manners, or anything else, but at least learn how to treat a damn lady!”

Deimos pulled on her again, this time more gently.

That was what caught her attention. He was trying to force her to get moving because of—what? The Octopians had all stayed back to kill Ambrose, so why was Deimos getting—

Creak.

She paused. It had sounded like…

Creeeeeak. Deimos pulled her behind him, simultaneously pulling out the long, sweeping sword. It left the sheath soundlessly.

Creeeeeeeeeak.

She pressed against his back, her blood turning cold. It sounded like a rickety wood, swaying back and forth, like an old house.

“Quiet,” Deimos said quietly, his broken, grating voice making it all the more terrifying.

Ambrose had said that Deimos could kill anything, that he was one of the best. And since Ambrose was back there risking her life for her, possibly dead, she was going to take his word for it. When she’d seen the nod between them, it had become clear that Deimos was a last resort—and she wanted to know why.

What could he do that Ambrose couldn’t?

Blackness exploded around them, and she held in a scream. Deimos had told her to be quiet, so she would. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t sit there and shake like the world was ending.

If the Octopians had made it to them, did that mean Ambrose was injured?

The thought had fear, intense and hot, shooting through her, as painful and as strong as a bullet. Following the pain, though, was fury. Cold, deadly fury that had all thoughts of anything else except Ambrose clearing her mind.

“Deimos,” she said lowly. His head moved in her direction, but barely. “Is Ambrose dead?”

There was a pause, and she saw his throat work as he struggled to make words. The fury was seeping through her veins, taking place in her heart, her soul. If anything happened to Ambrose because of her, she would kill the rest of the Octopians with her bare hands—and if Deimos wanted to have a say in it, well he could shove his interruption up his ass.

“M…aybe. Cannot—sense.” That broken English was enough for Mari.

The slow build of emotion took over her completely. Before she knew what was happening, a screech ripped from her throat as pain tore through her, and then a bright, blinding light overcame everything she saw. No darkness, no slithering tentacles in the corner of her eye. There was nothing but light surrounding her—as if something had possessed her.

Deimos receded into the back of her vision, his roars of denial at what she was doing falling on deaf ears. All she could feel was her own movement, all she could see was white, all she could think was Ambrose.

Like a trigger, he had opened something inside of her that she could feel flourishing within, growing, building, demanding it’s complete control over her.

And she let it have it. Whatever was inside of her, she let it take over her. Mari lost track of her thoughts after that. His eyes, his mouth, his small laugh—it all resurfaced to the forefront of her mind. It was all she could focus on as the light began to ebb.

Her body thrummed, a heat beginning to pulse from the center of her.

The whiteness was gone abruptly, replaced by red. Glowing, bloody, red. It should have frightened her, made her try to stop whatever was happening.

It didn’t.

She reveled in the thrill as her vision returned, the red overlay that she was seeing through making her see through the ink that was again surrounding them.

Something tried to grip her arm, Deimos probably, but she ripped herself out of his grasp, snarling. “Mine.” The rough, possessed voice that came from her throat was not her own, but something else entirely.

Deimos didn’t grab for her again.

The Octopian in front of her glimmered like a target, and her vision center on it. Something willed her to lift her hands, to move them in a circular motion around each other. Between her hands, energy began to form, taking shape as a large, golden ball of light. It heated her palms, growing bigger and brighter until even Mari couldn’t look anymore.

“Now,” Deimos growled at her. She listened.

The ball flew from her hands, right at the group of Octopians. Their screech rang around them like nails on a chalk-board, and Mari grew another ball, surging forward at the same time. There was no fear, no hesitation.

In seconds, the light exploded again, her vision being over taken by white. The ball of energy hit them again. One of them floated to the ground, wafting back and forth through the water as it met its coral grave at the bottom of the ocean.

The other four remained, and wasn’t that great?

With a sick, twisted smile, Mari shot forward and grabbed the Octopian closest to her by the neck. It stared at her with real, thriving terror. She laughed at it, digging her nails—now claws—into it’s neck.

“Scared?” the voice that came from her throat grated. It scratched along her own ears, but the emotions coming off the thing she had in her grip were pleasurable enough to take away the discomfort.

This son of a fuck had taken Ambrose from her, and she was going to make sure it paid—all of them.

“Touch them, and you die.” The creature inside of her snarled at Deimos as reinforcement, and he reluctantly moved back, an odd glint entering his eyes. Fear? Concern?

Mari turned back to the Octopian, dragging her nails down its neck, watching as the skin peeled away like plastic. The bone that was exposed had a small smile flitter over her face.

“Scared?” she asked again, this time whispering, leaning in close. The Octopian tried to shrink away from her, but she tore her nails through his collar bone. Skin ripped away again, a whimper escaping his throat.

The other Octopians stayed back, watching, shocked. The scent of their emotions rolled through her nose, spurring her on. It was good that they were weary of attacking her—she didn’t want a fight to be put up as she tore through their stomachs, grasped their hearts, and then crushed it in their faces just as they had done to her with the news that Ambrose was no more.

Her merman, her companion. He was meant to take back Atlantis—had said so himself. But he wasn’t here anymore, because of them.

She hissed, pain tearing through her.

Ambrose…

With him in her mind, her soul crying out for him and her heart slowly dying inside of her chest, consciousness left her mind and she slashed her hand out with a harsh movement.

Her claw-like nail caught on the Octopians thin flesh, and she ripped down, slicing through the center of its hips and ripping off the skirt of its tentacles.

Immediately, the three remaining Octopians tried to flee. Deimos shot passed her, before she could tell him otherwise. She watched with glee as the killer took hold of one of them, whacking another one with his tail. It spun off-course, tentacles flailing wildly and then getting tangled. It crashed into the ground and she took off after the one that was managing to slip away.

Mari had been able to swim before, but not like this. Her body was one with the water—she moved so quick that it felt like nothing was touching her or holding her back. No friction held her back. As she blasted through the water, she laughed.

Not a pleasant sound to the thing she was about to kill.

Slamming into the thin, emaciated body, she brought it to the bottom of the ocean, beating her fist into its face.

Ambrose.

These were his killers, the people that had taken one of the ocean’s most precious treasures away from it. These bastard fish had taken Ambrose from her.

Snarling, she shoved it into the ground. The dull crack of its head slamming into the ground shouldn’t have pleased her, but it did.

Ambrose watched the last Octopian fall to the floor, body swaying back and forth like a falling leaf. It was probably one of the most peaceful things in the ocean, he thought, willing the akrina to him. The orb took his blades away from him and jittered around him excitedly.

“I know,” he said warmly as the akrina took away the armor. “It’s been so long… Akrina, tell me. Is Mari well?”

The thing dimmed for a second, and fear flashed through him.

If anything had happened to her, he would personally decimate Deimos for failing to protect her. The thought of anything happening to her brought on a wave of pain so intense it could have brought him to his knees.

“Is she?” he asked roughly, barely able to get the question out. The akrina was taking its time answering, and Ambrose didn’t like that at all.

Right as he was about to believe the worst, he felt the rush of water part beside him before something small, forceful, and laughing hit him straight in the chest.

“I was so scared!” Mari gasped in his ear, strangling him with her arms.

A wave of relief crashed through him so hard, he was light headed. “Thank the gods you are alright,” he whispered against her temple, crushing her body against his. The soft warmth was the best reassurance he could have gotten from her.

But as her lips found his in a heated, desperate kiss, he thought, This is just as good, though.

And it was. Her mouth was hot and soft underneath his, and an ache formed in his chest. She was too much for him, too good for him. He had let her be placed in danger because of how distracted he was by her, and that was not what she deserved.

He pulled back from her kiss, even as his body and soul screamed at him to continue kissing her. “Mari, I can’t—“

Something latched onto his shoulder and jerked him away from her. He saw the alarmed look in her eye before mischief began to gleam in them.

Ambrose knew before looking who had grabbed his shoulder. “You didn’t,” he said, sighing.

Mari giggled, covering her mouth. Her eyes laughed at him as her shoulders silently shook. “I did. I really did.”

“Do I even want to know how?” he asked as Deimos continued to grip his shoulder in a death hold. He could already feel the bruise beginning to form.

“Deimos,” Mari said gently. “Don’t do that. It’s not nice. When you’re angry at someone, you calmly tell them that you don’t like it. No physical harm at all, understood?” Ambrose narrowed his eyes on her before turning around and staring at Deimos, who had yet to let go of his shoulder.

“Deimos,” she said, this time firmer. “I don’t like it when Ambrose is hurt.”

Harsh confusion flickered over his face before he bared his teeth at Ambrose.

He let go of his shoulder, though.

“Good boy!” she said excitedly, clapping her hands. “That’s how you should do it—I’ll work on teaching you how to speak so you don’t have to bare your teeth at everyone. How’s that?” she asked the killer as she grabbed Ambrose’s hand, holding onto him tightly.

Her body pressed against his arm and his body hardened instantly. She was pressed so close against him that her tail brushed against his. “Mari,” he said, exasperated, grabbing her shoulder. “How many times have I told you not to—Holy fuck.”

“What is it?” she asked, and then froze.

He stared at her tail. “What…happened?” he hissed, tightening his grip on her shoulders. Horror flooded him. “This isn’t possible. I don’t know—what did you do? How did this happen? Mari, what did you do?”

She jerked herself out of his arms, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. Her tail curled behind her and she avoided meeting his eyes. “Nothing,” she said thinly.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “What. Happened.”

Deimos shot in front of him, blocking him from Mari. “God,” he grated, shoving Ambrose back. “Respect.”

Ambrose could have killed him. “Did he do this to you?” he demanded, moving around Deimos and grabbing her shoulders again, tilting her back.

Sweet Atlantis, he couldn’t believe this. If her hair had been white and her eyes had been red, she would have looked like the primary gods of Atlantis. The similarity of her tail to theirs was stunningly alarming. And the implications…he didn’t even know what they could be. What would the Atlanteans do when they saw her?

He had to go there. His brother needed him. But he couldn’t expose Mari to the others unless…the gods wanted this to happen. Maybe they knew about his plan to take back Atlantis, and knew he wanted Mari above all else.

No…they didn’t care about him anymore. The second they had sentenced him to exile, they had severed all ties with him. That they would want to give him what he desperately wanted? Foolish. Completely and utterly foolish.

Why had they done this to her, though?

Agony flowed through him. “Oh, Mari,” he whispered, staring at her onyx tail. “I need to know how this happened.”

She didn’t look at him, didn’t respond to his touch. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” she said, backing out of his hands.

Ambrose tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Just tell me what happened, this once. I need to know.” There had to have been some sort of trigger, or this wouldn’t have happened. Even when he had been a child, his powers had been dormant until he had gone through something emotionally damaging. It was a way for the gods to deduce that you were ready for the responsibility of having them at all.

His time had been when his parents had died. When he’d seen his father, dying in the hands of an Octopian, he’d lost awareness of everything besides only a few moments. He remembered white light, agony, and then red. So much red…

“Please,” he whispered, staring into her beautiful silver eyes. “I have to know to keep you safe.”

She was silent. So incredibly silent. Torment lashed at his soul. He hadn’t been there to protect her, to prevent this from happening to her. He had promised to take care of her, even if to himself. She had been his ward, the reason he was pushing himself to take over Atlantis again.

Ambrose could have simply gone back and saved his brother, but he was doing so much more than that—and all for Mari. To give her everything she needed to adjust to ocean life.

But he had failed her. In the worst possible way. Now she was going through one of the most painful and damaging changes in her life. The things she would have to do, the duties she would be given, the way she would be viewed by others.

She gave a shuddering breath, shaking her head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Mari,” he said softly, drawing her against him, heart breaking. “When the Octopians came…who took care of them?”

Deimos stood just behind her, and he met his gaze head on. The knowledge in them barely prepared him for Mari’s watery answer. “I did. I had to. I thought they killed you when Deimos said he couldn’t sense you…and I lost it. I didn’t know I was killing them,” she rushed, voice going a pitch higher with each word.

“Oh, sweet Atlantis.” He crushed her to his chest, closing his eyes as he physically felt her pain. “I can’t…I don’t know what to say to make this better…”

She swallowed, hiding her face in his chest. “I don’t want to be a monster to you, Ambrose.” Her voice was so quiet he barely heard her.

“You could never be a monster to me, Mari. Not ever. You still have the same beautiful eyes, same beautiful hair, smile, laugh. I don’t think that tail changed your personality. Don't you agree?” he teased lightly, drawing her chin up with a finger.

What he saw broke his heart. Tears were flowing from her eyes, face a bright pink, and gaze completely absent of hope. “I want my pretty tail back,” she whispered heartbrokenly.

Ambrose scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what could…”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to even start to say. She took one look at his face, and then at her tail, and burst into tears. Loud and horrific, sobbing so hard that she could barely breathe. “I want it back—I’m like the ugly stepsister of the ocean, Ambrose. Look at me—I’m black! Do you know what they say about black?” she hiccuped, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Once you go black, you never go back. What if I never go back!? What if I can’t have my gold tail back? Or what if this tail is black because its cancerous? Am I turning evil? What if I'm starting to rot?”

She froze, and then shook him harder. He swore his brain rattled around in his head. “I’m too young to have cancer!” she exploded, shoving away from him. “I just turned into a mermaid not even three days ago! I have a bastard ex-boyfriend to kill and a family to say good-bye to and that—that bitch that was torturing you? I have to kill her too! And this time, when I get to kill something—since it’s them—I won’t even care. I’ll slit her goddamn throat with a fork and watch as she bleeds to death. So you see, Ambrose? I can’t have cancer!”

She ended on a huff, flicking her hair out of her face. Turning distraught eyes on him, she stared at him as if he understood every word she had just said—which he didn’t.

He looked to Deimos for help, who had taken to moving several steps away from her with a wary look in his eye. He looked at Ambrose with the same confused look.

Well, no help there.

“I can’t,” she said firmly. “If I do, then he does!” She jabbed a finger at Deimos, who looked at her with wide eyes, shaking his head.

“Mari,” he said slowly, lifting his hands as if to ward her off. “I don’t think it works like that—“

“No!” she exclaimed, slapping her hands over her ears. “I refuse to believe that I have cancer! I have so much left to do, like—“ She stopped talking, gasping. Then her eyes narrowed with acute fury.

“Oh, you bastard,” she hissed, stabbing him in the chest. Ambrose jerked away from her death finger, eyes wide.

“What did I do?" He swore right then and there to be never turn a mortal again. Their emotions were through the ocean, and he didn't know how much more of this he could take. He knew it wasn't her fault, but still...Trying to follow a conversation with her was like trying to rip his own arm off—agonizing and impossible.

“You sent me away!” she screeched, shoving him full in the chest. “You think I can’t take care of myself, Ambrose? Do you want to see how well my foot can take care of your fish-asshole? ‘Cause I do! I can’t believe you would send me off like some damsel in distress like that! What kind of woman do you think I am?”

“A pissed off one?”

Her eyes flashed black, and then she shoved him in the chest. Was it wrong that he was scared of her when her eyes did that? He looked at Deimos again, but the guy only shrugged and backed away farther.

Lovely.

“No. I’m the kind of woman that doesn’t like to be kept in the dark! Ray kept me in the dark, and now you? I think not, Ambrose.” Her eyes snapped fire and her voice was like a whip. He winced.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, subdued.

She stared at him, panting, face red with fury, tail lashing furiously back and forth behind her. Then, just like that, she deflated and flung herself at his chest.

“The next time something like that happens, you aren’t going to send me away. Okay? What if I freak out again and I grow two heads instead of two tails?” she whispered fearfully, looking up at him with big eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her back slowly, feeling like an Octopian had just bashed him on the head. What the hell was wrong with this female that she could be furious in one second, then sweet and cuddly the next?

He sighed.

Just another thing I love about her, he thought, pulling her tighter to him.

“How far away from Atlantis are we?” she asked abruptly, lifting her head from his chest.

Ambrose met Deimos’s eye, then looked at their surroundings. They were a couple miles away from the initial attack of the Octopians. Before, where boulders and debris were scarce, they were now everywhere. Parts of ships that hadn’t made it through defensive shield over Atlantis were laying scattered over the entire area. Parts of barges, hulls, and masts were everywhere, creating an almost eerie graveyard. He protectively pulled her closer to him and she went willingly.

It had been so many years since he’d had to remember how to enter Atlantis, but the knowledge came easily. Deimos began moving ahead of them, his stance defensive.

Whatever Mari had done, she’d somehow won that creature’s loyalty. Deimos had never before taken exception for anyone, not even D’Marci. She commanded him and he listened to her, but he did not defend her against anything her brothers or sisters said.

Mari, he believed, had the power to overcome any obstacle and any person.

She’d definitely won him over…

His heart stopped at the realization. Mari had done so much more than win him over. In the last forty-eight hours, he had slowly began to fall for her magical spell—without even realizing it.

Wasn’t it too soon? Too fast? Too hard? Too much? The thoughts rolled around his head repeatedly, confusing him. Mari was so much more than just a woman who had helped him escape, but how could he justify what he felt for her when he had known her only two days?

Every Atlantean had a mate, a life partner. His parents had found each other a little before his father had been crowned as king, and the hardships of running a whole entire city hadn’t ruined their love. If anything, it had grown stronger. Two weeks of knowing each other, they had gotten married. Two months after knowing each other, they had been pregnant with Ambrose. Their love had been quick and beautiful, a tale that was spread to children before they went to sleep to give them hope as adults.

One of the most famous rulers of Atlanits, they’d been. One of the most romantic, too. He remembered the emotion that shone in his father’s eyes whenever he had looked at his wife. It could have brought any Atlantean to their knees with jealousy for what they shared.

But was love what he felt for Mari?

No. Not so soon.

But as he thought that, his heart began to pound in his chest. Her sweet laughter, her silvery eyes, her blazing personality…what wasn’t there to love about her?

He closed his eyes on a growl. Women were too much for him—loving them was just over the top. Ambrose didn’t love Mari—he wasn’t even worthy of her, and never would be.

“Ambrose! Oh my god—Ambrose, Deimos found something! Get your scaly booty over here!” Mari’s excited voice snapped him to reality, and he sighed.

“Coming,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. Thinking about love made him tired. Thinking about Mari made him exhausted. Thinking about anything at this point just made him want to shove his head in the ground.

“Hurry up!”

Her voice sounded several feet away from his. She was squealing like an excited child, and he could see the clear swish of her tail from behind one of the larger boulders that surrounded them.

Ambrose was just coming up to the boulder when a large, resonating groan shook the ocean.

Deimos held his arms out, blocking Mari from getting any closer to the entrance to Atlantis. Her mouth was dropped open wide and her body was thrumming with excitement.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my effing god.”

Ambrose grabbed her, dragging her to his chest. “You have to be silent, Mari. Do not speak, do not even smile. Just be quiet.” To make sure that she stayed quiet, he covered her mouth with his hand. She grumbled against his palm, but didn’t fight him.

Good. The Atlantean guards were trained to take out any threat, on sight. Her tail might be a signal of her god status, but that barely meant anything to the guards when it came to protecting their city. Visitors of many races had come to Atlantis, genetically altered to look the part of a god, just so they could be welcomed in easily.

They normally turned out to be assassins.

He held the shaking Mari against his body tightly as the gates began to open. The invisible shield that had protected Atlantis for years began to appear before their eyes, crumbling rock falling from the boulder that had been placed in front of it. As rock began to peel away from the shield, glass-like gates slowly revealed themselves.

Ambrose felt Mari’s mouth drop open against his hand, and he tightened his grip on her. “Shh,” he whispered. The rock fell completely away, and the shield began to fall away completely. Like ebbing water, it swayed back and forth, pulsing, unused to the invasion. By the speed it was going, he could deduce that it had been a couple hundred years since someone had come to Atlantis.

Which wasn’t a very good sign for them…

Deimos unsheathed his sword and akrina began to quiver, brightening to a blinding point. He willed the akrina to form his blades. If they tried to harm Mari, he didn’t care that the guards had been trained for thousands of years in protecting Atlantis. He would take them down, and so would Deimos, if they tried to hurt Mari.

By law, they were required to attack on even the slightest hint that visitors were a threat. If they felt Mari was a threat, they wouldn’t hesitate to take her out.

And what about him?

He was exiled. He wasn’t allowed to come back to Atlantis, yet here he was. With a woman. And a servant of the gods. There was no doubt in his mind that they were going to have to engage in battle to be allowed into the city—

A thunderous crack shot through the ocean water, right before the gates of Atlantis came into full view.

Full, sweeping gates were barred closed against them. The metal was transparent and aquatic, glowing with an inner energy that protected them from ever being destroyed. He remembered all the years, all the planning, it had taken him and his father to construct it. It had been their project, his idea, and something his father had never gotten to see completed.

He’d finished the project out of memory of his father, and it was one of Atlantis’s most proud structures. It was impenetrable and unbreakable. The energy that Atlantis gave the ocean was stowed inside of the gates. If anyone tried, they died instantly by a shock of power so strong their hearts couldn’t handle it.

They had been preparing for the humans when it had been constructed. His father and he believed that humans and Atlanteans could not mix, and they had been correct. The first mortal to find them had tried to take over their city, and it hadn’t tried ended well.

That had been the first sign that the mortals would not receive the Atlanteans well—and that the mortals were so much less advanced than they were. Inferior minds felt the need to take over what they did not have themselves, so Atlantis as a whole had decided it would be better to cut off all ties with them.

So they had.

It had taken years, countless attempts of mortals taking over Atlantis, and hard work, but the gate was their pride and joy. Not only did it protect them, but it was the most beautiful creation in the ocean beside the royal palace.

Mari shook against him, clutching at his arms tightly. He could feel the excitement coming off of her in waves, and hated that this wasn’t going to turn into a pleasant reception. She had been so “jacked” as she had said, to see Atlantis, but they were going to be greeted with an attack.

Regret coursed through him, right as the gates began to glow.

Deimos weaved his sword through the water, getting ready for attack. Akrina separated, Akrinos surrounding Mari in a lighter version of armor while akrina wrapped around Ambrose. He wasn’t worried about Deimos—after living with the gods for years, and killing all sorts of underworld creatures, he knew the man could take care of himself.

“Why is it,” Mari was mouthing into his palm, “that every time we meet someone new, our lives are threatened?”

“Shh,” he whispered. Akrina formed his knives. He palmed one of them, keeping his other hand over her mouth.

The gates began to open.

All movement stilled. Even the beating of his heart stopped.

He expected spears, arrows, and blades. He expected guards rushing from every corner. He expected angry shouts and curses to be thrown everywhere.

As the sand on the ocean floor kicked into the water, skewing his vision, he was more than prepared for attack. Adrenaline crashed through his system, blood rushing through his heart as it pounded forcefully against his chest.

“Ambrose?”

He froze.

No.

The sand began to float to the bottom of the ocean, revealing a young male who was the mirror image of the man Ambrose had once been. Thick black hair was cut close to his head, longer in the front so that it fell rakishly over his forehead. His ocean blue eyes were wide, disbelieving. He was only a couple inches shorter than Ambrose himself was, leaner and less scarred.

“I heard…about you. Never thought you would come back…”

His brother, Erikos, moved forward. Behind him, an army of guards were waiting with weapons drawn. He suspected the only reason they weren’t attacking them was because his brother was standing in front of them.

Ambrose didn’t know what to say. Mari squirmed in his arms, demanding he let her go. Her movement caused Erikos’s eyes to land on her, and Ambrose swore he felt the shock come from his brother.

“You hold a god so intimately?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. The shock turned to weariness.

Ambrose shook his head, struggling to find words.

“Hey,” Mari snapped, finally getting her mouth out from under his palm. “Who is this? And stop trying to make me be quiet, Ambrose! It’s obvious they aren’t going to hurt us.”

His arms slowly fell from around her.

“Brother, you have angered a god!” Erikos hissed, jerking away from them as if their presence was insulting.

Mari stared between the two of them, completely ignoring Erikos.

Ambrose couldn’t take his eyes off of his brother.

This was the male that had been with Ambrose through everything—except the most crucial moment in his life. All of the hunting and training, they had done it together. They’d gotten into trouble together, faced their mother’s wrath, and had grown up together.

All he could think about, through all of the good times in their childhood, was his brother at the trial. When Ambrose had watched the last of his family turn his back on him. When Erikos had left without even a glance in Ambrose’s direction. When, after all his years of keeping Erikos out of trouble, his brother had abandoned him to exile.

All of the betrayal of that day came rushing back to Ambrose. A dull roar built in his ears, and his vision dimmed. The brother he had loved and taken care of and raised had turned his back on him.

He threw his blade to the side.

Ambrose couldn’t stop what he did next. Mari cried out and tried to reach for him, but Deimos thankfully held her back. All he saw was the shocked look in his brother’s eyes before Ambrose’s fist connected with Erikos’s nose.

Blood instantly spurted, and he felt the shift of the ocean as all five hundred plus soldiers came rushing behind Erikos.

“You’re a fucking bastard,” he snarled at his brother, driving his fist into Erikos’s shoulder, knocking him into the guards closest to him. They began to draw their weapons, but Erikos held up a hand, covering his nose with his other.

“Leave him,” he growled. Immediately, all the guards stopped their movement.

“But, sir…”

“I said,” he snarled, “leave him.”

And then the fight was on.

Mari’s shouts echoed in his ear right before Erikos lunged at him. The dimming adrenaline from earlier came back with a force ten times as strong. His vision darkened and zeroed in on Erikos. His brother dodged his hit, only to be struck by Ambrose as he jerked around with inhuman speed, lashing out with his tail.

It caught his brother on the shoulder, shoving him to the ground and right in front of Mari. He watched with growing fury as his brother’s eyes latched on to Mari—and then her tail. He grabbed her with two hands, pulling himself up.

Deimos’s low snarl ripped through the air before he jerked Mari behind him, lunging at Erikos.

It was too late though—Ambrose already has his hands wrapped around the filmy material of his brother’s tail and was yanking him down, back dragging on the rubble around them. He grunted, kicking out and catching Ambrose in the jaw. His grip loosened for a second, but it was enough time for Erikos to get free.

“You’re a coward,” Ambrose shouted, rage over coming any emotion he could have felt. Sorrow for what had happened to them, betrayal for what his brother had done, remorse for the fight that was taking place. He didn’t care. His brother had betrayed him and tried to use Mari against him?

Ambrose shot forward, grabbing both of his brother’s shoulders and shoving him into the ground. The dark head slammed into the coral, blood seeping from Erikos’s nose and head.

“What kind of brother are you,” he roared in Erikos’s face, “to betray me? When all I did was look out for you! Took care of you!”

Erikos struggled under him, not saying a word in response. Fury unlike anything he had felt before washed over him. “And to use my Mari?” he thundered, pulling back his fist. “To even think of touching her?”

He beat his fist into Erikos’s face, the adrenaline that rushed through him hitting a new peak—

Something latched onto his shoulder, yanking him away from his brother.

Ambrose snarled, getting ready to attack whatever it was that had pulled him back. Erikos began scrambling out from underneath him.

He turned around, ready to beat into his brother again—

A small force hit his chest, shoving him back. He growled, latching his hands onto whatever had dared touch him.

“Ambrose, stop it!” Mari cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s me—just stop it. Don’t—“

“Mari?” he asked through the haze. Ambrose froze—then jerked his hands away from her shoulders, cursing. “What the hell…do you think you’re doing?” His voice was nothing but a growl; even to his own ears, it sounded rough.

Erikos laughed harshly from beside him. “Ambrose, you never cease to amaze me—“

“Boys,” a harsh voice growled, making both Ambrose and Erikos jerk their attention to the speaker. “I come out here, expecting it to be a nice family reunion, and instead I see you beating the holy soul out of each other? I’m disappointed. In both of you.”

“I am too,” Mari whispered fiercely, poking him in the shoulder. Nonetheless, her head buried into his neck again.

“Kai,” Ambrose said uneasily, adjusting himself so that he was standing. Mari didn’t move away from him at all—if anything, she curled even tighter around him. He could smell the faint scent of her tears, like the aftermath of a hurricane, and he could feel the pounding of her heart.

His chest ached. He had done this to her, frightened her.

The Shephard of Souls gave them both a dissatisfied grunt before clapping Ambrose on the back. “It’s been a long while since I’ve seen you—with a bloody face and bruises all over you was not how I pictured this reunion at all.”

“I’m surprised you’re speaking to me at all,” Ambrose murmured, bowing his head. The man standing before him was one of the oldest, strongest, and wisest men Ambrose had ever met. He had been around just as long as the gods have, and has witnessed centuries of grief, change, and power.

All in all, he was like Ambrose’s second father.

Kai glared at him. “Boy, we both know you didn’t cause anything besides the longest reign of peace we’ve had up until Numb Nuts took the throne.”

“One opinion does not stand a chance in the face of many,” Ambrose reminded him, tightening his grip on Mari when she sniffled. At least she wasn’t talking—he didn’t want to draw any attention to her.

Although, going by the way the guards couldn’t keep their eyes off her tail, that was too late. Even Kai had noticed it and was now staring.

Ambrose sighed. Mari was never going to go by unnoticed, was she?

“I can feel them staring at me,” she whispered, poking his shoulder.

“That’s because they are,” he whispered back, shrugging at Kai’s confused look.

“Well obviously, I can feel it.”

Kai looked between Mari and Ambrose, raising his brow suggestively. “Quiet,” he hissed at him, holding her closer to him. “Are we going to stay out here the whole time or can we come in?”

Deimos grunted, crossing his arms over his chest and giving every single soldier a death glare. They all quickly looked away, going back inside the gates. Ambrose was the only one to notice Erikos going back inside the city gates as quickly, and as quietly, as possible.

“Of course. Let’s get you inside here before H’Sai takes notice. If we can keep your arrival hidden until we can tell him you’re here when he’s in a good mood, that’ll work out best for everyone. I doubt you want the citizens knowing you’re here?”

Ambrose shook his head as Mari lifted hers. She shot away from him before he could say a word otherwise, bouncing up and down the whole way she went. “I feel like that’s going to be hard, though, considering Mari makes it a point to befriend every person she meets.”

“Well, this will certainly be interesting,” Kai said dolly, escorting them inside the gates of the ancient city.

Ambrose only sighed. “It certainly will.”

This was unreal. The halls, the ceiling, the critters. Mari had the hardest time believing that she was alive and not dead, sent to fishy heaven. The city was washed with a blue, aquatic glow, like their hidden sun was casting the most unique array of colors.

Ambrose had tried keeping her tied to his side, but had given up after only a couple of minutes—which was perfectly fine with her. She couldn’t see enough, fast enough. There was so many things that made her jaw drop, so many things that made her squirm, and so many things that made her want to run away.

The housing was probably one of the coolest things she had ever seen. Every house they passed looked exactly alike. Black marble pillars held up large estates. One house equaled a whole entire block. You could see everything that was going on inside, from the outside.

Most of the houses, though created with black marble, had a red inner glow. The light spilled onto the sandy ground a couple feet away from the edge of the house. Mari had never seen anything like it in her life. The first couple miles into the city were full of houses—which could actually be described as temples.

The farther they got into the city, the more active it became. The temples were replaced with sweeping structures that scraped the skies, towers taller than anything she had ever seen in her life. Mermaids—or Atlanteans, as Ambrose was urging her to call them—were everywhere. And they all looked different, which shocked her to no end.

Some were blonde, some were brunette. Some were redheaded and teal-head, purple-head, and blue-head. By the time they reached their actual destination, which was a huge-ass castle centered in the middle of the city, she could rightfully say that she had met the face of diversity.

The tails were all different, too. Not a single person had the same colored tail. They were like walking rainbows, she thought, staring at an Atlantean with a pink tail and purple spiked hair. Her eyes were just as unique—but as they met hers, offense entered them, then shock as they took in her figure.

She pressed tighter against Ambrose, quickly looking away from them.

Mari was completely, totally, utterly lost. She didn’t know their customs, their language. Sure, some spoke English, but she’d heard a few of them speaking a completely different language. It had been so beautiful, it brought tears to her eyes.

This set them apart even more. They weren’t cultured, she thought, eyeing them.

She had only seen three or four women on the streets the whole entire swim to the palace. Everyone else was either male or child. Did they keep their women locked up? She passed a quick glance at Ambrose and frowned.

She didn’t even know anything about Ambrose.

What had she learned from him on their journey? she asked herself. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She had been too excited to see Atlantis that she hadn’t bothered to learn about it while they had the time.

She vaguely remembered that their government was a patriarchy, and that was it. Hell, she didn’t even know why Ambrose had been exiled in the first place.

“Hey,” she whispered, clutching him tightly. “I’m not going to be fed to sharks, am I?”

“No,” he whispered back, a gleam entering his eyes. “You’re getting fed to eels. They like the extra spice with the females. It makes the zap all that more powerful.”

She gasped, then slapped at his arm. “Ambrose, I’m serious here! I don’t even know why you were exiled—how do I know you aren’t going to the castle just to turn yourself in? What will happen to—me?” she asked, catching herself. Her heart stopped in her chest. For a second, she had almost said us.

Ambrose looked at her solemnly. “Nothing will happen to you. I’ll make Kai swear that if anything happens to me, you’ll be taken care of. Don’t worry, Mari. All will be well.”

Her face turned pink and she bit her lip worriedly. “What will happen to you?”

The man named Kai cast a dark look over his shoulder, looking her straight in the eye as if to tell her to shut up. She could understand why, but nonetheless she gave him a nasty look back. Guards were surrounding them like a mermaid-shield, and most likely listening to their conversation.

Ambrose gave her a silent look before twining his fingers through hers. A thrill rushed up her arm, stabbing her right in the heart. A fear unlike anything she had felt shot through her.

Was he preparing for something? Was there something he wasn’t telling her? What had he done, in the first place, to get him exiled? Mari had never really thought about it—she’d been to focused on all the adventure, on Ambrose himself.

What if he had killed someone? Was he a murderer, a rapist? A thief?

None of those felt right. He was too kind, too quiet. Ambrose was one of the nicest people she had ever met—besides beating the tuna out of his brother, Ambrose had made it his point to be nothing but considerate. Hell, she knew how he felt—like he wasn’t good enough, like he never would be.

What had happened to him?

She desperately wanted to ask him, but knew it would have to wait. It wasn’t safe to ask in front of the very people that had exiled him. The second they got some time alone, she was getting answers…and finishing what they had started at F-Inn. If he only had limited time, she was going to make the rest of his days the best she could.

Or…

An idea popped into her head, probably the dumbest she had ever had.

She had killed those Octopians with a flick of her finger, scared the ever loving shit out of them. What if she turned all possessed again? Would that scare his executioners into letting them go? The thought did not appeal to her at all.

She had had no control over her body or mind during those few minutes of possession. Killing something again? That also didn’t sound like the most appealing thing on the menu. But she couldn’t let Ambrose, a man that she desperately cared for, be killed because he wanted the best for her—and because he had come back for a dick brother.

Mari didn’t know what the fight had been about, but she had felt the fury wafting off of Ambrose. Whatever had happened between them, Erikos had done something to piss off her gentle merman so badly that he was willing to beat up blood—and Ambrose was incredibly loyal.

“We’re here.”

Kai’s voice brought her out of her thoughts and she was almost thankful for the distraction.

He turned around, facing her. God, but the man was huge. Not as tall as Deimos or Ambrose, but almost there. His hair was long and wavy, so blonde it almost matched hers. His eyes were stern, hard—completely black. It was unsettling, having straight black eyes stare at you as if you were nothing but an ant on the ground, but she managed to hold his gaze.

Ambrose tightened his fingers around hers and she drew comfort from it.

“Do not speak. Do not meet their eyes. Look indifferent. I’m not sure what you are, but you aren’t a god.” He drew a long, skeptical gaze down her tail, and she forced herself not to shift uncomfortably. “You might look like one, but you aren’t. It’s best the king not know this.”

Mari nodded, giving a sigh of relief when he turned back around.

“You’ll do fine,” Ambrose assured her, smiling.

Too bad she couldn’t smile back. Her nerves were running on a high that was making her jittery to the point of shaking. Even Ambrose, who was trying his best to calm her down, wasn’t doing a very good job.

“I’m going to find some way to stumble over my tail. Or, you know, blow something up with my godly powers,” she muttered as the sweeping door to the palace swung open. Air bubbles sprung from every direction, blocking her vision for a moment.

When they cleared, she forgot all about her worries.

Holy shit.

The place was the gothic version of The Little Mermaid. The room in front of her expanded about one hundred yards ahead. The marble was shining, imprinted, and black. Like the rest of the city. Except, laced through this black marble, there were gold streams that ran along the floor, all centering around a crimson symbol that was structured in the middle of the room.

Surrounding the rectangular room were marble pillars that were the same style as the floor she floated above. On each pillar, the same symbol that was imprinted on the ground was on the higher part of the marble, gold instead of red.

At the end of the spacious room was a throne so large it took her breath. The top of the chair, adorned with golden and crimson coloring, were two stone serpents. Their mouths were open, long tongues lashing out, with diamond fangs gleaming into the room. Their eyes were made of the reddest stone she had ever seen, and they glared at her from their dais. Long, detailed bodies were intertwined, both starting at opposite sides of the chair, and then meeting in the middle. Their necks, besides their feet, were the only body parts that were not bound together.

So fish worshipped serpents? Didn’t those things eat fish?

Mari concluded, right there, that Atlanteans were sadistic sons of bitches. She bet they held sacrifices to the Lochness Monster and came to the shore every eve to dance naked around a chicken with its head cut off.

She looked at Ambrose quickly, then stifled a laugh. She could see Ambrose doing that.

Definitely.

“The queen and I are retiring for tonight,” a deep voice called from the throne.

Deimos placed himself in front of her, blocking her vision. Ambrose was on one side of her, and a guard was on the other. All in all, she was caged in.

And she really didn’t like it.

She shoved at Deimos’s back, who growled at her warningly. “Move,” she hissed when he didn’t. “I want to see!”

“Mari,” Ambrose growled, squeezing her hand painfully. She was about to snap at him when she caught look on his face. “More than likely, you’ll get your chance. Stop drawing attention to yourself.”

He turned his gaze away from her dismissively, effectively silencing her.

Okay. Well. That was that, then, wasn’t it?

Kai’s voice echoed through the throne room. “We have a pressing issue, my lord.”

She heard the faint sigh, and then the king spoke. “I doubt it can be much more pressing than my bed.”

Mari held in a snort. Some king he was. Her chest puffed with pride. At least with Ambrose, she knew he would take care of every problem until the city was at peace, even if it meant no sleep and no “precious bed.”

Stupid old men, stupid fake kings, stupid Deimos who wouldn’t move.

“Actually, this concerns you more than the city.”

As if they had planned it, Deimos, Kai, and the surrounding guards all stepped back from Mari and Ambrose.

Finally, she could see the king!

And what a sad disappointment.

She had expected some large, hulking guy with a grey beard, pointed crown, and a trident, like Ariel’s dad or something. Instead, sitting on that elegant throne, was a thin old crone who didn’t even have a crown!

Unlike the rest of the citizens, they had on black robes that folded their way down to the floor. Only the tips of their tails peeked through the robes. The woman at his side was frail, smaller than he was. Her robes were charcoal, barely decipherable from the black that matched the man standing next to her. The tips of her violet fin peaked from underneath the silken looking robes, a darker shade of purple than the man beside her.

“Damn it,” she muttered, before slapping a hand over her mouth.

Kai shot her the most dangerous, life threatening glare she had ever gotten in her life.

Before she could apologize, though, the gasps from the throne drew her attention.

“What?” he demanded, his shout ringing throughout the room.

With surprising speed for an old man, the king shot to his feet, the little old lady at his side following suit.

“Guards!” the king shouted, stabbing a finger at Ambrose. “Take him! The Exiled One is not welcome here!”

None of them moved.

“You bastards, kill him!” Mari watched with alarm as the man’s face bulged with purple veins. The lady beside him also cast a worried glance, matching Mari’s concern.

Again, none of them made a move. She looked around her covertly, taking in the crossed arms and hard faces.

“If one of you don’t take this man into custody, you will all be labeled as traitors!” he roared, surging off of the dais. His finger shook with his fury, and the purple became more pronounced the closer he got.

Mari backed up a little. She didn’t know much about fish, but she imaged they got strokes just the same as humans did—and she really didn’t feel like having a waif of a man fall on her dead. She’d had enough death for one day, thank you very much.

Still, though, the man came even closer until he was standing right in front of Ambrose, and she had the feeling that Ambrose didn’t really give a crap that the man was spitting mad—literally.

He confirmed her thoughts when his thick hand wrapped around the frail wrist that was right in his face. Shivers went down Mari’s back when he spoke.

“How’s being king treating you, H’Sai? Taking a toll at all?”

“You’re a conspirator and a bastard!” the king said furiously, despite being locked in what she thought looked like a painful grip.

Ambrose sneered. “And you’re a lazy piece of work. You would rather sleep than take care of your people.”

“You would rather kill than let thrive!” H’Sai shot back, wrenching his hand away. She suspected that Ambrose let him—the man was so old and withered he looked like a waif in the large room. Hardly the powerful king that he should be, Mari thought, watching the interaction between the two.

Mari was lost. Ambrose didn’t seem like a conspirator at all—he was the most loyal and trustworthy man she had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She might not know about him, but she did know him. Just the way he had taken care of her and protected her was enough to assure her that he would never betray anyone.

“Men,” Kai cut it, placing himself between the two of them. “There is a woman in our presence—two, in fact,” he amended, bowing his head respectfully at the woman who had stayed back. She smiled gently in acknowledgment.

“As king, and former king, you should know how to take care of your affairs. Fighting it out like children is not how it is done. D’Mari,” Kai said, gesturing to her. “The guards will escort you to your quarters, which I have already had prepared for you.”

She frowned, barely noticing the way he had altered her name. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to stay—“ He cut off her by waving a guard at her, who took her arm.

These people had a really bad touching problem, she thought as she tried to take her arm back. “You don’t have to do that—“

Deimos growled, baring his teeth at the guard. He swallowed, slowly loosening his hold. Mari patted Deimos's arm proudly while smiling smugly at the guard. She turned around, determined to stay and witness what would happen between Ambrose and H’Sai. She knew close to nothing about Ambrose, and this was the perfect time to learn.

“Mari, please,” Ambrose said quietly. “I’ll come to you when this is over.”

She almost denied him, but the look in his eyes made her stop. They were solemn, like he had accepted some terrible weight on his shoulders. And maybe, by engaging the king, he had.

Mari nodded slowly. “Fine,” she said, putting up a resigned façade.

She bid Deimos to follow her as the guards led her out.

Ambrose was silly if he actually thought she would listen to him.

As the doors began to close, she looked over her shoulder to see the three remaining men, Kai, Ambrose, and H’Sai, exit under one of the pillars that was two away from the throne on the right side. She quickly memorized which one it was, right as the doors closed fully behind them.

The guards led her through the expansive palace. Like the room they had just left, the palace was decorated in black, red, and gold. There didn’t seem to be one closed off hallway, or one door. The palace was held together with pillars and that was it.

Which, she realized as she trailed behind them, memorizing the way they had left, made her plan seem more complicated. There were also guards stationed every five feet, all holding spears and armored.

Deimos was close at her back, which gave her little comfort. Slipping away from him was going to be near impossible too. She knew that if it came down to it, he would take Ambrose’s side if it meant keeping her safe and locked up.

She snorted mentally. Yeah. Keeping her locked up was such a great idea.

It took them a total of five minutes to get to her “room.” As they escorted her inside, one of the guards moved to the wall and pulled on a red silken rope. Immediately, crimson curtains fell from the open space and enclosed the room, giving her privacy.

“Wait here,” one of them said shortly. He bowed his head in respect before backing out of the room, leaving her and Deimos to themselves.

She bit her lip, looking around the room. There was a blue-green pad placed in the right corner—their type of bed, she was guessing. Beside it was a nightstand and then across from the bed and nightstand, against the wall that she was near, was a dresser. It looked like it was made out of the same material as the gate, glass-like with a red inner glow.

“Atlanteans are just depressing,” she muttered, swimming forward and sitting on the bed. Deimos stood by the door, arms over his chest.

He nodded shortly.

“Black,” he muttered, casting an impassive eye over the room.

“A lot,” she agreed. How the hell was she going to distract him enough to get out of here? By the time she escaped, Ambrose and the king would have already had their fight—or, Ambrose could already be dead.

Her heart thumped.

She definitely needed to leave, and soon.

The uneasy feeling in her stomach gave her an idea.

“I think I need to take a breath,” she said uneasily, holding her stomach. Mari didn’t think she did very well faking the heaving in her stomach, but it must have been enough. Deimos automatically looked away from her.

“Vomit,” he grated, face twisting. “Disgusting.”

Mari made a gagging sound and watched as he flinched.

As he was looking away, she quickly made her way to the pad, and then slipped out from the curtain that was behind it, sliding along the pillar.

Excitement rushed through her as she took hold of the amazing view. The city was in clear display. From her little sneak-away spot, she could see every temple, plant, and creature. And god, but it was beautiful.

She could easily imagine falling in love with Atlantis.

But right now, she had to save the man that she lo—

Mari stopped.

No. Not love. She forced herself to get moving, even as her heart thundered in her chest at what she had almost made a complete thought. It was way too soon to love Ambrose—hell, she hadn’t met him even three days ago. Ray was still in the forefront of her mind. The betrayal, the anger. She was too hurt to think about loving another man.

Right?

Mari swam several feet down the building, still on the outside. She called on that super-fishy speed she had and tried to go quick enough that the guards keeping watch wouldn’t notice her shooting behind them.

She hadn’t really thought about Ray at all, she admitted to herself. She had been caught up in the adventure, the danger, and...Ambrose. He was consuming every thought she had now. Ray’s betrayal was only a minor sting to her heart—Ambrose was the reason it was beating.

It might be too soon. It might be irrational. It might be wrong. But did she really have to care about that? She had a man that cared for her, a new start at life, and a clean slate. Taking control of the situation and finally having happiness in her life would be the best thing for her.

It’s what her mother would have wanted from her, her father. They had never been fond of Ray. They tolerated him for her, yes, but they didn’t welcome him. He was too tight, too restricting. Only once had her mother warned her not to get caught up with someone she wouldn’t be happy with, and it had turned into Mari not talking to her mother for weeks.

But not because she hadn’t wanted to. It had been Ray that had kept her away from her family. Telling her to give them time, urging her to just put the phone down and stop thinking about them.

It had caused a painful rift in her family. Her brothers stopped talking to her, her father didn’t text her, and her mother hadn’t made an attempt to talk to her.

She knew her parents would approve of Ambrose. Handsome, strong, loyal, perfect, a great kisser with magic hands... She shivered at the last part. Her mother would more than approve of Ambrose, she knew. And if her and her parents got into an argument, he wouldn’t allow her to sit in silent pain. He would force her to work it out with them.

Just like he worked through everything else. If Ambrose had a problem, he fixed it. He didn’t leave others behind and he sure as hell didn’t lie. He could have easily left her in the cave. He hadn’t had to turn her into a mermaid, put up with her, or allow her to go with him everywhere. He didn’t have to protect her and risk his life for her.

But he did.

When she had first seen him in the cave, his face had been hard, as if he had never smiled before in his life. Over the course of their time together, there had been a dramatic change. Not only did he sigh at her, smile at her, or laugh at her. He allowed her to touch him.

After all of the things that had been done to him in that cave, he gave her rights she suspected he never would have given again.

The sound of low voices drew her out of her thoughts.

Several feet away from her were two guards. Their shoulders were covered with armor, and both had a long, sharp spear in their hands.

“Never thought that fucker would come back here again,” the one on the left said. His voice was tinged with disgust.

“Don’t know why Kai would bother protecting him,” lefty muttered.

“It doesn’t matter. H’Sai will have him locked up in no time.”

“I’ll have to get tomorrow off to witness the execution . That bastard killed my sister—I’ll relish every drop of blood that spurts from his dead body.”

Mari slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her gasp.

What bastards. Anger flashed through her, and the water buzzed around her, heating up with her emotions.

“I—“

Another voice came from the hall, farther down, cutting her off.

“D’Mari?”

She froze.

Then slowly turned around with an incredibly sweet smile on her face.

“Yes?”

“Were you not instructed to stay in those quarters?”

She met the eyes of the guard who had caught her. The two that were in front of her were turning around with pale faces and wide eyes.

“I needed some time to myself,” she said vaguely. Why weren’t they carting her away already? It seemed like the whole palace had heard of their arrival—and none of them seemed happy about it. She forced herself not to do something to the two guards that had been talking about Ambrose.

The new guard’s eyes strayed to her tail, then her face, but passed her. Like he didn’t want to look directly at it.

Realization dawned on her slowly, and she nearly smiled. So they really did think she was a god.

Ambrose had told her at F-Inn to act indifferent and uncaring. Was that how gods normally acted? She’d never met one or heard of one—obviously—so she followed Ambrose’s advice.

Mari crossed her arms over her chest, arching a brow. “I’ll be on my way now.”

She turned on her tail, expecting them to just let her go.

But of course, nothing was ever that easy.

“D’Mari, the king expressed wish that you would stay in your quarters. The ceremony will begin soon, and then you may come out. We…do not wish to offend you while we prepare.”

“Ceremony?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at them. She slowed. For what?

“For the Exiled One,” he answered as if he had read her mind.

“What is going to happen at this ‘ceremony’?” she demanded, turning around quickly. The other two guards, the ones who had been gossiping, backed away from her, fear widening their eyes.

“The execution. He has offended our king by coming here, and offended you as well. It is time he paid for his crimes,” he said harshly. Mari could only stare at him.

“What crimes?” she asked, completely astounded. “Actually, forget it. I need to go. Follow me and I’ll…I’ll turn you into a whale.”

She turned away from them sharply, urgency going through her. She had to find Ambrose. Had to get him out of there. He couldn’t just leave her there, alone, and then watch him die. Had he known this was going to happen?

Mari’s chest tightened with a fear that went soul-deep.

She didn’t bother to listen for the guards. The quick look she had gotten of their faces had told her that they wouldn’t bother following her. She could have laughed that they believed her, but fear for Ambrose held her silent.

The halls were endless. She swam her way down them, retracing her steps from earlier. Thankfully, to her godly speed, she found the throne room in less than a minute. The guards that were stationed throughout the palace were absent—probably preparing to kill Ambrose.

Dread washed through her. God damn it, she couldn’t believe he would do this. Wouldn’t it be easier to kill the king and take back the throne? The guy hadn’t seemed very dedicated in the first place!

Her thoughts cut off when she threw open the door the throne room.

Completely empty.

She shot toward the large throne, then found the pillar they had gone through. There was no sign of a door, or latch, or anything. Swallowing, thinking she had memorized the wrong one, she waved her hand out.

It passed through the pillar, the marble wavering as if it were a rippling pool.

“I feel like I’m going to Hogwarts,” she muttered to herself before squeezing her eyes shut and walking into the marble.

She met no resistance, but an odd feeling passed over her.

Mari slowly opened her eyes, looking around her.

“Holy. Shit.”

She had entered into a large, breathtaking room. The ceiling was luminescent, forming a dome above her head. Her jaw dropped as she stared around her. Glistening like hundreds of little diamonds had been embedded into the walls, it was one of the most magnificent rooms she had ever seen in her life.

And Ambrose was somewhere in here…

It was the thought of Ambrose that took her out of her stupor.

There was no sign of another door, so Mari touched the wall. Maybe it was like the marble out there, just an apparition at one part. It was the only thing she had to go by, so Mari brushed her fingers over the glittering wall, a thrill working it’s way up her hand as she did.

It was like the magic of the room was flowing from the wall to her, invading her senses. Mari was so distracted by the sensation that she almost missed the wavering of the image when her hand passed through an empty space.

She had to stay focused. Ambrose’s life was on the line.

Mari passed through the wall, and was greeted to the gothic version of what she had just been through. Instead of blinding white diamonds, the corridor she entered was bedazzled with red and black stones.

She walked through it, feeling unease creep through her.

The corridor went on for forever. Mari didn’t know how long she was in it, swimming her way through it as fast as she could. After a couple of minutes, she almost decided to turn around, thinking that there had been another entrance and she had taken the wrong one.

Mari stopped moving completely, holding her chest against the panting and the unease that was slowly growing with each breath.

She had to turn back—there was no way that she was going to get to the end of the tunnel. After the pillar and wall trick, she was beginning to think that this tunnel was a trick as well.

Hissing. There was something hissing.

She whipped around, fear catching the scream in her throat and holding it back. She scanned the dim tunnel, heart pounding, palms beginning to heat.

“I’m going insane,” she muttered to herself, swallowing down the anticipation. “Freaking stupid emo fish need to get a hold of themselves.” The Atlanteans, as a race, needed a make over. With flowers and rainbows and blues and pinks. There was so much darkness that she was choking on it.

She froze when she heard it again.

It was closer. A small orb of light began to form.

Déjà vu struck her for a second, making her frown.

“Akrina?” she asked, moving forward slightly.

The little ball shot away from her, and she glowered, following it. “Akrina,” she whispered, reaching out a hand. “What are you doing? Get back here!”

Mari was just about to touch it when it disappeared completely, leaving her in the dim light of the tunnel. The gems in the wall gleamed at her mockingly. Frustration made her sigh.

“That little shit…” she began.

“…too late.”

Mari’s ears perked up. Kai?

She moved forward quietly, trying to be as soundless as possible. Only a couple more feet and the tunnel ended abruptly. Mari hid behind the edge of the exit and peeked her head out of the door, narrowing her eyes as she took in the surroundings.

The room that the voices came from was oval. Sitting on the outskirts of the almost court-like room were four large chairs that were occupied by four terrifyingly beautiful creatures.

All four of them had white as snow hair, glowing red eyes, and...the same tail that she had. Exactly the same tail. The red down the sides, the double-fin...the only thing that she didn’t have, that they did, was the hair and the tattoos. Two woman were on the right side of the dais, and two men were on the other.

Shock held her still, entranced. The water around them sizzled with their power, drawing Mari into them. The aura of danger and age that surrounded them called to her, rushed through her like a physical need. She forced herself to stay still, to look away from them.

“You honestly think that the people will accept you as king again?” H’Sai hissed, taking an aggressive step towards Ambrose.

Kai was between them, looking more fed up than worried. Ambrose had a more stoic look on his face, and she couldn’t have been any prouder.

Then she realized what he had said.

Again?

Ambrose had been king once?

“You betrayed us, killed our families, and ruined our city,” he continued, the sneer that overcame his features twisting the withering flesh. “What makes you think you would be welcome here?”

“When the gods sent Mari to me,” Ambrose said, as easily as if he were explaining what he breathed. Mari’s heart fluttered, her stomach following.

“And how do you know that for certain? What kind of ‘sign’ is that, Ambrose? A rotten one, if you ask me. The second you sunk Atlantis, we lost loyalty in you. Don’t expect to get it back.”

Ambrose sunk Atlantis? Mari’s head reeled. He couldn’t have—Ambrose wouldn’t do something like that, it just wasn’t him.

“Ambrose,” one of the females intoned.The low, emotionless voice sent a shiver down Mari’s back. “Why do you not tell him what happened? You stay silent and let this man slander your name. Why?”

The way she asked it made Mari think that she already knew why. Ambrose’s jaw clenched in response, and he remained silent.

“What are you talking about? All of Atlantis knows what happened!” H’Sai shouted, stomping his tail against the ground furiously. The silken robes on his body quivered with his rage.

“Tell us, Ambrose,” the other female demanded, her body shifting in the seat. The move was so elegant, and so smooth, she seemed to move with the water and not against it.

“You already know,” he said, voice hard.

“Ah, but H’Sai does not,” one of the males said, his eyes taking in the scene with indifference. Did none of them know how to show emotion? The whole time, their faces were rock hard and unmoving.

“What don’t I know?” the annoying man asked. Mari had disliked him from the start, but now she wanted to throttle him. How appealing it was for her to just reach out, wrap her hands around his throat, and just shake him till his old fish heart stopped working?

Way too appealing.

“That Ambrose didn’t sink Atlantis,” Kai muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face and groaning. His shoulders fell back tiredly and he looked at H’Sai as if he were the most boring creature in the ocean. “You’re really fucking stupid if you think that Ambrose, after all he did to protect Atlantis, would turn around and destroy it. What kind of step-in king are you?”

H’Sai sputtered, then looked at Ambrose and Kai indignantly. “I kept Atlantis going for two thousand years—much longer than he has!”

“Is that all you can think about? This little cock show you have going on with Ambrose? Atlantis is dying. I can feel it, you look it, and the gods know. What kind of work did you do while Ambrose was locked up? You might be my friend, but I’m loyal to the heir.”

H’Sai stared at Kai with wide eyes, betrayal shining in them.

“I can turn it around,” he said, even as Kai shook his head, running a hand through his long golden hair. “Sorry. No. You can’t. Even if you had had the chance, you wouldn’t have bothered. I tried to get you to take control for years, but you wasted the time on your throne. Now that Ambrose is back, things can finally be done. We haven’t advanced at all with you.”

H’Sai opened his mouth to speak, but one of the Atlanteans in the chairs spoke up, their voice resonating through the room. “Ambrose will have his throne back willingly or by force. What do you prefer, H’Sai?”

Mari saw the same shock she felt on Ambrose’s face.

H’Sai was silent, staring at Ambrose with a brewing hate that she could feel from her spot.

“Force. He can have the throne by force.”

The gods nodded as if they knew what he was going to choose.

“So be it. A week from today will be the fight to see who is worthy of the throne.” Then, dismissing the king completely, they turned to Ambrose. “We suggest that you spend time getting to know your people. Soon, the story of how Atlantis fell will be spread all throughout the city.”

Ambrose stared at them.

“Take Mari with you...and look out for Ceto. She is waiting for her chance to attack. We figured you would want to take care of her yourself, though.”

She saw Ambrose tense and her stomach dropped. That bitch was still tormenting Ambrose, despite how far they had gotten.

Mari swore that when she saw Ceto, she was going to kill her. No if, ands, or buts—that goddess was going to get god-smacked.

Ambrose walked away from the dais, frustration boiling inside of him. The gods were up to something—he could feel it. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have said anything about the real cause of Atlantis sinking. Something kept telling him not to say anything about Ceto, to stay quiet and wait.

H’Sai hadn’t believed a word Kai had said, but Ambrose did admit that it seemed like the step-in-king only cared about who looked tougher—or, who felt tougher. H’Sai had once been an incredibly strong and formidable warrior; so formidable, in fact, that Ambrose had made him his first in command.

They had been friends for years, always having each other back and being the first to go into battle. He had thought their bond was inseparable, a true one, but he now knew it for what it really was. H’Sai had always had issues—Ambrose had known that from the beginning. He had hoped, though, that with time the man would change. He never did.

That had been more than apparent at the trial. He had stood there, watching Ambrose’s world crumble, and had done nothing except stand, taking the robe from around Ambrose’s shoulders, and then leaving.

The final straw had been drawn, and his life had been sentenced to one of torment. The only people to be there for him had been Maxroy and Aixya, but that hadn’t stopped the betrayal and pain over whom he had thought were his friends and family.

He left Kai and the rest of them back there, striding through the exit—

And running into something.

It squeaked, and he caught the red flash of tail as it shot down the tunnel.

Instantly, his vision turned red.

“You aren’t serious,” he growled, shooting after Mari. He swam through the trail she had left, narrowing his eyes. Sweet Atlantis, she had gotten faster—and quieter.

Forgetting about the meeting completely, Ambrose pushed himself harder...and gripped the base of her fin, yanking her back. “I thought,” he snarled, “I told you to wait with Deimos. I was going to come for you. Don’t you know how to wait?”

His shout blasted the hair back from her face, emphasizing how large and terrified her eyes were. “I was just curious...”

“Mari,” he snapped, gripping her shoulders tightly. “Some things need to stay private—if I had wanted you to know all that shit, I would have taken you with me! Gods damn it, Mari. If I’m supposed to take back the throne for you, how can I have you by my side when you can’t trust me.”

The final roar of his shout echoed through the cave hollowly. Mari flinched, turning her face away from him. “I didn’t know...”

“Because you aren’t supposed to,” he snapped, tightening his fingers around her shoulder. “Do you know what the gods would have done, had they seen you? Killed you on sight. You might look like one of them, and might have the powers of one of them, but you are not one of them. Listening in on a conversation in that room is considered treason, whether you know our laws or not.

“Even I couldn’t stop what they would do to you,” he snarled, loosening his hands on her shoulder when he saw her flinch.

“Ambrose, I’m really sorry.” And she was—he could see the sorrow in her eyes, the guilt.

“This won’t happen again,” he said tightly, shoving away from her. “If you get killed for insolence, I will never forgive you. Learn some damn common sense, Mari. This is not a dream, not a fantasy, and most definitely not a game. If you want to have a life, you play by the rules of the ocean. You got that?”

He watched her throat work before she nodded. There was no light in her eyes, no fight. The anger drained away as quickly as it had come, and shame took over, digging deep, painful roots.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured. Ambrose wanted to take her into his arms, to hold her against his chest. He wanted to feel the beating of her heart against his. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that—the outburst had been born of fear and embarrassment.

He had wanted to be the one to tell her, in private, the reason why he had been exiled. There was no greater shame than not being able to tell the story yourself and hurting the one you cared about most. And that was exactly what Ambrose felt right now—shame.

The hurt in her eyes killed him.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, shoulders lowering with defeat.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, before dragging her into his arms. He expected her to fight him, but she didn’t. She went into his arms easily, as if knowing that he had to touch her. Ambrose didn’t deserve this—she was so beautiful, so loving.

Even after she had betrayed him, he could not stay angry. He knew why she had and understood. He had shared nothing about himself with her, when she had told him about her family, her teaching. She didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark.

“I did not mean to get so angry,” he said into her hair, wrapping her tighter against him. He felt the soft exhale of water against his shoulder and shuddered. So innocent and sweet, so not ready for a life under the ocean. “I won’t ask for your forgiveness again, Mari. I’ll make it up to you—all week long, I will show you my world. I’ll answer every question you have about me. No lies, no secrets. I swear, I will do everything I can to make it up to you.”

She pulled away from his chest, staring up at him with guarded eyes. Then, slowly, she smiled. “I have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

Ambrose sighed, nodding. “You really do. At least you aren’t crying,” he said, crushing her against him once more as relief crashed through him. Right now, she was the only person he had. If he lost her because of his own temper, Ambrose didn’t know what he would do.

“Don’t,” she said, poking him in the chest with that damn knife-like finger, “yell at me. It would set a very bad example for Deimos if he ever saw it.”

His eyes crossed. “Deimos? That’s who you’re worried about?”

She nodded, giving him a “duh” look. “Well, of course. I plan on him being your first in command, so we need to start training him.”

“He has enough ‘training’,” Ambrose said, aghast. She wanted that soulless killer to be his first command? What was she thinking?

“Not kill-everything-that-breathes training,” she said smartly. “But etiquette. And apparently, I need to teach you as well.”

He glared down at her, affronted. “Excuse me? I have perfect manners.”

Mari patted his shoulder with her dainty little hand. “Of course you do, honey. Of course you do.”

“Honey? Woman, did you just insult me?”

Mari looked at him, then narrowed her eyes. “On the surface, honey means sweet and innocent. If you want to think of that as offensive…then sure.” She shrugged, the teasing light in her eyes entrancing, reassuring him.

He guffawed, raising a brow at her. “Okay. Alright. That’s not very nice, Mari. Don’t worry, though. I’ll get you back…with an eight tentacled—“

She held up her hand. “Okay! That’s enough—“

“With oily as hell hair, soulless black eyes—“

“Seriously, Ambrose—“

“And a sunken in stomach—“

Mari laughed, tackling him and shoving a hand over his mouth.

“You’re going to give me nightmares,” she said, wrapping her arm around his neck.

Ambrose grinned, then tickled her sides. Her squeal rang in his ear, making him laugh with her.

“I’ll pee everywhere,” she warned through her laughter, fighting off his hands.

“Atlanteans can’t pee,” Ambrose said in a sing-song voice.

“Well this one will!”

“Have fun trying—“

“Ambrose, stop it! I’m not a good tickler!”

He shook his head, pushing her into the wall and wrapping his arms around her waist. His hips pressed against hers, and her laughter died off.

Gods, she was so beautiful. The light in her eyes cast a pink glow over her face, giving her the appearance of youth and innocence, something he was unaccustomed to. Atlanteans were hard, fighters. They had never had the softness that Mari herself did.

Her curves were perfect, soft, willing in his hands. He settled his hands on her waist, moving in close. Her eyes darkened from silver to onyx, giving him enough incentive to do what he did next.

He lifted his hand out, touching the wall and willing akrina to remove the glamour on the wall. Mari gasped when he picked her up by her waist, swinging her into his arms, and them moving through the wall.

Seconds later, they were in his childhood room. He didn’t take the time to look around and deal with the nostalgia. The only thing he did was draw the drapes and then set her on the teal pad that was in the center of the room. Surrounding the pad was raised marble, oily orbs dancing around the edge of the bed, catching the magical glow of the room and then casting it throughout the room.

Ambrose couldn’t wait any longer. The faint image of her mortal body shimmered beneath the scales, urging him on. Mari’s breath was hitched, excited. He fell upon her, trapping her hands above her head with one of his hands and holding them there.

“Have to have you,” he whispered, before taking her jaw in his hand and burying his lips against hers.

The needy whimper that broke from her throat doomed them both to a fiery heat.

He felt the pleasurable sting of his legs returning, and knew there was no going back.

Her soft, welcoming body moved under his, creating a friction that dragged a ragged groan from his breath. He trailed his hands down her delicate flesh, feeling for the silken skin. When he found it, another groan ripped from her chest. The scales were gone and she was more than ready for him.

Gods, but just the feel of her had a raging heat building inside of him. Her sigh was sweet and ready, all for him.

He opened her mouth with his own, licking her lower lip and then biting into the plump flesh. She moaned into his mouth, dragging her hands up his back to wrap around his neck, bidding him to give her more.

Passion slid throughout his body and consumed him, took over him.

“Want you,” she whimpered, digging her nails into his neck. The pain-pleasure shot down his back, straight to his cock.

“Yours, Mari. All yours.”

She smiled fleetingly, then began to struggle against his hold on her wrists. He loosened his grip, taking her jaw again and kissing her roughly, demanding she kiss him back.

She did.

Her tongue slid into his mouth, brushing against his. The taste of her was enough to make him growl. Thoughts of their last encounter came to his mind, and he jerked, arousal spiking.

He tore his lips away from hers, trailing them down her jaw and then neck. She let her head fall back, exposing her delicate skin to him. The trust that she gave him rendered him speechless, and all he could do was take her in, worship her.

It’s what she deserved. To be worshipped. To be loved. To be taken care of and never wanting. Ambrose tensed as she slid her hands down him, reaching for the part of him that wanted her most.

A breath hissed from his chest when her soft hand wrapped around him. She stroked the heat, making Ambrose still and shudder above her. He shouldn’t have reacted to her touch so violently, but he couldn’t help it. The heat of her palms was destructive.

“Wait, Mari,” he growled, pulling her hands away. “We never finished…what we started.”

“Started?” she echoed throatily, eyes flaring wide. Her pupils dilated as realization came over her face, cheeks flushing.

He nodded, taking one last nip at her neck before sliding down her body. He ran his lips over the curve of her breast, tracing her nipple with his tongue fleetingly. She moaned, threading her hands in his hair. Ambrose could feel the excitement in the air.

He kissed her navel lightly, his hand finding her bare sex. As an Atlantean, she was completely bare except the golden locks on her head—which made enjoying her that much better.

Ambrose traced the heated entrance, enjoying the way her body undulated on the pad, begging for him to fully enter her. Slowly, watching her face, he slid a finger inside of her core, groaning when he felt how hot and tight she was.

“So perfect,” he grated, leaning down and kissing the tight nub. She jerked off of the bed, hands tightening in his hair. He chuckled between a groan, loving the taste of her. Like citrus oranges, one of his favorite treats from the surface. Her sweet taste invaded his senses, drugging him.

Ambrose worked another finger inside of her, watching as her eyes popped wide. He took his fingers out, pressing his lips against her core. Immediately, hunger flared deep within him. He sipped at her greedily, demanding her cries. He could feel her begin to shudder above him, and her legs wrapped around his neck, holding him there.

“Oh, god. Ambrose,” she cried out. In a rush, her body began to jerk and tremble. Her orgasm was the best thing he had ever had in his life. Pleasure coursed through him and he surged above her, taking her face in his hand.

Her cheeks were flushed, small beads of water bubbling on her lashes. “Why do you cry?” he whispered, kissing the lids of her eyes.

“Felt…so amazing.” She struggled to get the words out, but he understood nonetheless. His heart stuttered, pride taking over him. He had made his woman cry with the force of her release?

Ambrose smiled, tilting her head back and kissing her. “You are amazing,” he said. Never had he meant anything as much as he meant those words. “You’re beautiful. Amazing. Perfect. I have never met anyone as strong as you, as gorgeous. Your cries are like the sweetest song. Your eyes, the way they are looking at me now, make me feel as if I can do anything. And I would, to make you happy.”

By the time he was done speaking, he wanted to slap himself. Her face slowly became redder, until he knew she was getting ready for a full-out sob. He wrapped her in his arms. “Mari, I am—“

“I love you.”

He froze.

“What?” Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly. No one except his parents had ever loved him. Ambrose was a monster and wasn’t worthy to even be near her, yet…

“I said,” she whispered against his neck, brushing her lips over his jaw, “I love you.”

His throat closed. “You…can’t.” I’ll never be good enough for you.

“I do,” Mari said forcefully, putting a hand behind his neck and urging his face closer to hers. “I don’t care that you might not feel the same—well, I do care, but you know—but I’m not going to hide myself from you. I trust you, Ambrose. With my life.”

She paused, taking a breath.

“So I trust you with my heart.”

The words were torn out of her mouth like it was hard for her to say them, but he knew they were true. “Someone hurt you,” he said, narrowing his eyes on her.

Mari wrapped her legs around his waist, gazing up at him.

“I don’t want to think about him. Later. Right now, it’s us…and I feel like I’ve been waiting way too long.” Her sentence ended in a growl, and then she was pushing at his shoulders, putting him on his back.

He took her hips in his hands, watching her. He would find out who hurt her, and would make sure that for every tear she shed, every break of her heart, they paid. Whoever thought about hurting this woman was as good as dead.

She moved over him like liquid, shocking the holy hell out of him when she leaned down and pressed her lips to his jaw, nipping. Like he had done, she took her time tracing every inch of his body with her hands…and mouth. Her lips left a fiery trail on his body, covering him completely. Tendrils of lust began to curl in his gut, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he lost his patience.

She rocked her body against him, her damp heat brushing against his length seductively, lightly. Barely touching him yet enough that he could feel her. Gods, she was going to kill him. He felt all of the blood drain from his head, going to straight to his groin.

“Mari,” he growled, stilling her with his hands.

She looked down at him with a coy smile, making his body tense. “Sweet Atlantis. I need to have you—now.”

“No,” she murmured, biting into his jaw gently. He groaned, fisting his hands.

“Yes,” he begged, forcing one of his hands to unclench to wrap around the back of her neck. He pulled her face up to his, pressing his lips to hers. “Please.”

She leaned into his kiss for all of a second before pulling back, giving him an admonishing glare. “No,” she said softly, breath catching. He smiled almost harshly.

Ambrose loved that she didn’t bother to hide the affect he had on her.

Loved that he affected her at all.

Loved...her.

“I’m going to take my time. I want this to be perfect,” she whispered, placing her hands on both sides of his chest, moving her body down his.

“It already is,” he groaned. Hot and wet, her mouth had taken to licking and kissing her way down his body. When she was just at the beginning of his hips, she paused.

He slammed his hands on the pad. “Damnit, Mari! Stop with the teasing!” Ambrose wanted to grab her, but he also wanted to know what she would do next—needed to know.

She laughed and he swore it was the best sound he had ever heard. “Who said I’m teasing?”

“I did,” he snarled, curling his hands into the pad. If she didn’t do something soon, he was going to take her— “Oh, holy fuck.”

He felt her mouth wrap around his length, covering him. His legs buckled, and a ragged shout ripped from his chest. The flick of her tongue nearly scorched him, made him breathless.

Ambrose couldn’t wait anymore. Gripping her shoulders, he dragged her away from his length, drew her to his chest, flipped her onto her back, and spread her thighs.

“I’m sorry,” he grated, taking himself in his hand and guiding him to her sweet entrance. She moaned, grasping his forearms.

“Now,” she demanded, moving her hips against his. A shout ripped from his chest as he buried himself inside of her.

“Oh, Ambrose!” Her scream echoed throughout the room, making his hips surge against her. He was inside of her so deeply that he didn’t know where she began and he ended. Her heat washed over him like a tidal wave, dragging him under with desire.

His head fell forward, heart thundering. He could have stayed like that forever—which was perfectly fine with him since it felt like it was impossible to move. The thought of leaving her heat, feeling her muscles clench around him as he did, was painful.

Already he felt like the pleasure was too much, the desire too intense. Lust was shooting through him like sharp daggers, except the pain wasn’t actually pain—but a burning ember that was slowing branding Mari’s name into his soul.

He could hardly image what she felt right now. Did she feel the same as he? Ambrose lifted his head, shoulders shaking from the effort it took to keep from surging inside her again.

Those beautiful silver eyes were squeezed shut, her face twisted with a mix of pleasure and pain. He touched her cheek worriedly. “Mari?” he asked, wincing. His voice was nothing but a growl.

“Why aren’t you moving?” she breathed, eyes opening, dazed. The silvery depths were flashing between onyx and slate, one of the most entrancing things he had ever seen.

“Have I…hurt you?” Her muscles clenched around her, making his hips thrust forward in reaction. The surprised gasp she gave whispered through his ear; pleasure made him nearly blind.

“No… Ambrose, please. I need you,” she whispered, voice breaking. Mari grabbed his shoulders, pushing up her hips and drawing him deeper.

His fist clenched on the pad. “Sweet Atlantis, Mari. Don’t do that, you need to adjust—“

“I’ve adjusted enough, damn it! Let me have you!” she slapped at his shoulder, frustration glimmering in her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this since the second I helped you stand up—now get moving.”

His eyes widened for only a second, and then Mari was wrapping her legs around his waist and forcefully pushing him inside her with the heels of her feet. Her eyes closed on a shuddering gasp, and he watched, entranced.

He began to follow her movements, slowly taking over the speed and roughness. The gentleness he felt, the need to protect her from even himself, was overcame by need. Complete and total need. Leaning down, beginning to thrust deeply inside her, he palmed her breasts.

They were just right—filling his hand perfectly. She moaned, head twisting on the pad, hair spreading around her. “Touch me,” she whispered, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his hands.

He complied, greedily taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking the tight berry, while his remaining hand trailed down to the juncture of their bodies, finding the center of her pleasure. He thumbed her, and she immediately jacked into a sitting position, a keening moan ripping from her throat.

“Oh—yes,” she said into his ear, digging her nails into his shoulders.

His tongue licked and laved at her nipple, biting down gently. She arched into his mouth, trying to pull him closer. His hips slowed their movement before he picked up speed, pushing her onto her back again and then ravaging her breast with his mouth.

He slammed his hips into hers, going so far into her heat that he got lost in the pleasure it gave him. Her scream echoed in his ear, and he did it again, pulling back his hips and then surging inside of her.

Gods, but she was perfect.

He growled lowly, giving her nipple one last tug before going to the other one, giving it much needed attention. Ambrose felt her hands push into his hair, and knew he was doing it right. He smiled around her breast, right as she clenched around him.

Ambrose felt the convulsions that rippled through her tight walls before he heard her soft, desperate whimpers. She was close—the way his name rang from her lips as she screamed, and the way her body began to tense as the waves of pleasure began to build, was enough for him.

He put his hands on either side of her head, taking one of them and holding her leg up. This time, he didn’t hold back—he couldn’t if he had wanted to. Her breasts thrust into the water as he began to pound inside of her.

“Ambrose!” she gasped, grabbing at his arms. Her eyes flipped wide before squeezing shut, back arching and body beginning to tremble under his as he relentlessly thrust inside of her, pushing to her core and then pulling out, just to slam back in.

The ripples he felt coming from her spurred his own beginning. Ambrose dropped her leg, falling above her, hips still moving forcefully against hers as the trembling got worse.

She jerked underneath him, and he stopped moving completely. Staring down at her as she met his eyes frantically, he slowly—oh, so slowly—pulled his hips back until just the tip of him was inside of her. Then, when she began to whimper and beg for him, he smiled.

And thrust inside of her so quickly, so deeply, that they both came apart with a scream.

Mari was floating on cloud nine—or she had died and gone to heaven. There was no other way to explain what had just happened to her, to them.

Ambrose collapsed beside her, drawing her into his arms and holding her against his chest. “Mari,” he said deeply, his voice coming over her senses and making her shudder. The remnants of the orgasm made her whimper as he shifted them, and he smiled gently.

“Yes, Ambrose?” she asked sleepily. Her body was so satisfied that it was drained. She had no energy left to move around. All she could do was lay there in his arms—but neither of them were complaining.

“I think…” He paused, staring at her.

“What?” she asked, beginning to flush. “I need just a second to rest and then we can—“

He shut her up by kissing her, forcing her mouth open with his and demanding one of the hottest, most dominating kisses of her life.

By the time he pulled back, her heart was racing and she didn’t think she needed a break anymore.

“With us Atlanteans, we have…” He stopped again, dragging a hand over his face. He laid down on his back, dragging her on top of him. She began to draw light circles on his chest, not daring to say anything unless he not tell her at all.

“Customs,” he finally said. “They are a lot different than your mortal ones, but they are true. We do not give our love lightly,” he murmured, covering her hand with his own, stilling the movement. “But when we give it, it is forever. Once one of our kind picks someone, we are bound together for the rest of eternity. It’s our way of life, and always has been—“

“Ambrose,” Mari said softly, kissing his jaw. “I don’t need a whole lecture if it’s making it harder on you.”

“No,” he said firmly, taking her jaw in his hands and caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I need to explain this. It’s the only thing that is making this feel real—that’s making you real.”

She quieted.

“I have no doubt that the throne will be mine—but there is still the threat of Ceto,” he growled, hate flashing through his eyes at the thought of her. Mari swallowed.

“If I take back Atlantis, it is only for you. Only,” he said fiercely, meeting her eyes with hard oceanic ones. The seriousness in them caused a shiver to run down her back.

“So I need to know now. You said you loved me—“ his voice broke on the word, as if it were painful for him to say—“but I need your loyalty. Not just your trust or love, but your loyalty. I know it’s asking too much of you, after all that you have given me, but I can only have a throne with a loyal queen and—“

“Ambrose,” Mari broke in, placing her hand over his mouth. “Anything you ask for is yours. Anything you want from me is yours. Everything about me is yours. My loyalty was given to you the second you changed me into a mermaid—“ he frowned at the term—“to save my life, and that will never change.”

“Atlantean,” he corrected her sternly, tapping her nose. Despite his worry, he was trying his hardest to make this easier on her—like asking for her loyalty was such a great decision, she thought with a mental laugh.

“Atlantean,” she repeated, tapping his nose in return. “I love you, Ambrose. Nothing can change that.”

His eyes closed and so many emotions passed over his face it was hard for her to decipher which ones they had been. Her heart ached as she watched him. He had had no one for two thousand years—but now he had her.

It might not be a lot, but hopefully, it was enough.

For now.

Ambrose’s eyes flipped open to meet hers, the sudden fury taking her back.

“If everything about you is mine, then you are mine. Which means, I need to know about everything in your past…including the man who broke your heart.”

Mari froze.

“Tell me about him. Now.”

She swallowed. Oh, boy.

“Right now?” she asked, biting her lip.

He nodded, gaze hard. “You’re mine. And I want to know who hurt you.”

“No one hurt me,” Mari hedged, crossing her arms over her breasts. She felt a slight numbing below her hips and looked down. Her legs, tangled with Ambrose’s, moved on their own accord and began to mend together, scales beginning to replace the skin.

Ambrose growled, taking her jaw in his hand. She didn’t have time to ask what was wrong before he pressed his lips to hers, hand possessively covering her breast. Instantly, her body reacted. Her back arched into his hand, and a moan escaped her lips.

He pulled back, breathing hard. Desire thrummed through her body and she stared at him, dazed.

“Right now,” he said, hard. Ambrose pushed her onto her back, taking her wrists in his hands and holding himself over her. She felt his legs tangle with hers and held back a shiver of heat.

“But I’m all… Ambrose, I don’t think right now—“

He bent down, brushing his nose against her neck before placing a soft kiss there. She sighed, eyes fluttering closed as tendrils of pleasure danced along her skin.

“It’s the perfect time,” he growled. She felt a sharp nip at her neck and gasp, straining against his hold on her wrists.

“Let my legs—“

“No. Talk.”

Caveman mode, much? She struggled to pull her hands free, trying to twist her way out of his grip. All that did was press her breasts closer to his face—and he took full advantage of that. She gasped again when his mouth covered her nipple, tugging on the tender flesh.

“I can’t talk when you’re doing that—“

“You better. Two seconds to start talking and you won’t be able to swim for days.” He adjusted his hold on her so that he had both of her wrists in one hand, and the other was sliding under her body, down her back. Before she could tell him to knock it off, his hand cupped the round curve of her ass and squeezed, a warning.

“That isn’t fair at all—“

“One second.” He drew back his hand, lightly tapping the side of her hip. Another warning. He covered her breast with his hot mouth again, and the world around her spun. How could she concentrate when he was doing everything he could to make her not want to talk?

“Oh my lord, you are terrible,” she breathed, body trembling.

“One-half,” he growled against her puckered flesh, nipping her.

“His name was—was Ray. Raymond Blieger.” It was so hard to talk that she barely knew what was coming out of her mouth. She tried pulling at her wrists again, but he sucked on her breast hard, pulling back for only a second and then going to the other one.

“We went to the same college and both got degrees in teaching. Started living together when we got jobs and—“ She cut off with a whimper when the hand that had been caressing her ass slid around to the front of her body, lightly teasing her entrance.

“Keep going,” he whispered, tempting the beginning of her core with a thick digit.

She couldn’t see the look on his face, but at that moment she didn’t care. The darkness in his voice, the need that she could hear in it, was enough to make her tremble. Hell, he could talk for days without touching her and she suspected she could get off on just that.

“Ah—we… We were together for three years—“ He growled, biting into her breast.

“I was on this couples cruise,” she said weakly, barely able to talk past the beating of her heart. Ambrose was doing so many things to her at once that she didn’t even feel a glimmer of pain as the memory vaguely crossed her mind.

She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, trying to draw him against her. She had to feel him, had to have him again. The image of the sinking ship was replaced by the memory of how good he had felt inside of her, how amazingly thick and perfect he had been.

“And?” Hot water brushed over her chest, managing to make her shudder. How could one man make her so hot?

“I went alone—he said it would be good for me. He had too much work.”

“Bastard. I would go with you everywhere, to the end of the Earth if I had to,” he murmured, gentling his ministrations. She swallowed, nodding, even though she didn’t know what she was nodding at. She could hardly speak; the words were refusing to form.

And it wasn’t because the memory hurt—but because Ambrose was touching her, making her body come alive. She suspected he was doing it to make telling him easier on her, but she didn’t really care why. The fact that it was happening was good enough for her.

He tightened his grip on her wrists, moving up her body again. His lips brushed against her neck again, slowly pushing a finger inside of her—only to pull it back. She groaned, thrusting her hips against his hand, trying to make him touch her again.

“Talk, Mari. The more you talk, the more you get.”

“That’s cruel,” she whispered, turning her face into the pad and trying to find something to say. What had they even been talking about?

His finger lightly brushed against her entrance again, making it that much harder for her to concentrate.

“What happened on this cruise?” he prompted darkly. “You have not gotten to the part where this bastard broke your heart.”

“Why is it so important?” she asked with a breathy gasp. Two fingers pushed inside of her this time. Didn’t Ambrose understand that when he did that, she lost her mind? Making her talk was pointless when he kept touching her! But, she admitted to herself, she wasn’t going to ask him to stop.

“Because I want to know how many times I’m going to make him pay for hurting you. An eternity of pain wouldn’t be enough for what he did to you.”

She moaned. “That’s so sexy. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

He looked up at her, flashing a small smile, then turned serious again. “Tell me what he did.”

“I thought we were going to get married,” she said quietly, heart beginning to ache. Ambrose pressed his lips to her neck again, pushing two fingers inside of her and then pulling them out. Mari bit her lip against a soft scream, forgetting all about the feeling of betrayal.

“Wasn’t good enough for you.” She shuddered, stomach fluttering, as his growl rumbled through the air, fingers pushing deeper inside of her.

“Yes,” Mari moaned, head turning on the pillow behind her, desire curling through her blood.

“Tell me,” he commanded darkly, nipping the delicate skin of her neck.

“What?” She blinked at him dazedly.

“What this bastard did to you. Tell me, Mari.”

How could she not tell him? His voice was so deep it was like a coarse rumble, rolling over her skin and invading her senses. She would do anything he asked, if he kept talking to her, touching her...

“Checked my email,” she struggled to get out, body jerking when he pulled his fingers out, gently rubbing her clit. “There were, ah...emails. From another woman. Said she can’t wait to feel his—Oh my god, Ambrose.”

“He was unfaithful to you?” he growled. She panted, back arching. He had slid down her body, gently kissing her nipple, and pulled his fingers out, only to replace them with himself. He plunged inside of her body, bracing himself over her body.

“He...oh god. Ambrose!” That’s all she could get out. He began pushing inside of her, filling her so completely that she swore they became one. Fire shot through every vein, heated threads of pleasure shooting through her body, pulling on her senses like she was a puppet to Ambrose’s touch.

“Mari,” he growled, burying his face in her neck. “He will pay. Whatever I have to do to make it happen, he will regret ever hurting you.”

Hours later, her body sated to the point of being boneless, Mari dozed on Ambrose’s chest. His fingers were brushing up and down her back, and she could hear the steady beat of his heart. It brought her a peace she had never felt before.

“Ambrose...” She began, not really knowing what to say—or rather, how to say it. She knew what she wanted to say.

Who are you? What did you do? Were you really the king? Was there a queen before me?

“Yes, love?” Oh man, his voice. So tender, so relaxed. She hid her smile in his chest, the nerves dying off. He was way too relaxed—and plus, he had promised to tell her everything she wanted to know.

“I’m curious,” she said, biting her lip.

His hand cupped her bottom, then slid up her back. He smiled down at her, rolling her over so that they were both on their sides and both of his arms were wrapped around her, cocooning her in his warm embrace.

“About?” he asked, raising a brow.

“You. Atlantis. The ‘throne’. Those people on the dais…I want to know everything,” she said excitedly, unable to keep herself from bouncing in his arms. She was too excited to stay still.

Ambrose smiled at her patiently. “The people on the dais?”

She rolled her eyes, poking his shoulder. “You know who I’m talking about—-they had the same tail as me!”

“Ow,” he said, laughing, moving away from her finger. “The Atlantean gods. They created us, everything in the world almost. Without Atlantis, the sea will die off, and then the rest of the world will follow suit.”

Her eyes widened. “So they’re like…God?”

“Gods,” he said sternly, poking her shoulder in a mimicking way. The oily orbs that surrounded the pad jiggled as he adjusted them again, pushing her onto her back.

“Ambrose, not again,” she groaned, taking his shoulders. For the past four hours, he had taken her nonstop. It seemed like he couldn’t get enough of her—or they couldn’t get enough of each other.

She wanted him, and would probably never stop wanting him, but her body was beginning to feel the effects of hours of love making.

“I’m not, love,” he said. She heard the laughter in his voice and blushed. “I just like looking at you. Your breasts are perfect…your hair shines with a golden glow that entrances any man who looks upon you…your eyes. Don’t even get me started on your eyes. I’ve never met a woman with such beautiful and expressive eyes… You’re like a book.” He chuckled. “So easy to read that it’s not hard to figure you out.”

“Okay, fishman. I take serious offense to that!”

He arched a brow. “Oh, really?”

Mari nodded sharply. “Yeah, really. My brothers always said that to me,” she grumbled, hiding her face against his chest.

“My brother never…” Ambrose stopped, catching himself from saying something. She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, curiosity began to set in.

“At the gates, with your brother. What was that about?”

Ambrose didn’t answer her for a long time, and she began to think that he wasn’t going to.

“Have you ever been betrayed by blood?” he asked, his voice holding a tone of pain that made an ache form in her chest. She shook her head against his shoulder, not daring to look at him. She knew that whatever was in his eyes was ten times worse than what his voice sounded like.

She thought of Ray, but knew his betrayal wasn’t to the scale that Ambrose’s was. He wouldn’t have tried to kill his brother if it wasn’t.

“I had two people at the trial that were on my side. Out of every citizen I had, out of every family I helped, took care of, watched out for, gave protection to—I had only two people. Erikos wasn’t one of them. All he did was take my spear and leave.

“No apologies, no hug, no ‘I believe you.’ I watched out for that kid my whole entire life—when my parents died, all he had was me. All I had was him. I was only a couple hundred years old when I took over the throne, for gods’ sake. It wasn’t until a couple years later that I gained the Atlanteans' trust. Before that, though, all I had was Erikos. My last remaining family, and he left me to be exiled without a word in my favor.”

His voice was bitter. Mari couldn’t move—it was impossible when the pain that he felt was flowing to her, making her breathless.

She felt the tingle in her legs, barely registering that her tail was coming back. Mari didn’t cast a look at it—she was held too tightly against Ambrose’s chest.

He had asked for—no, demanded—her loyalty. It had seemed weird and out of place at the time, but now she understood why. The one person in his life who should have done anything for Ambrose had left him behind, betrayed him.

“It’s the most painful thing in the world,” he whispered. Hot water fanned over her cheek as he turned his face into her hair, clutching her. “The only thing I can imagine being worse than that is losing you.”

Mari looked up at him, gently touching his jaw. “That won’t happen. You’re stuck with this fish for life, Ambrose. I just hope you’re prepared for it. I have the worst PMS anyone’s ever seen, I’m terrible with decorating, and I like chocolate. If I don’t get it, I go into withdrawal, and it’s already been a couple of days so—“

Just like she had wanted, he laughed. It was a weak one, but a laugh nonetheless. “Mari, we don’t get chocolate in the ocean.”

She gasped. “What?”

“We. Don’t. Get. Chocolate.”

Mari jerked into a sitting position, holding her hands up in an ‘excuuuuse me?’ motion. “Okay. Alright. I’m done. Hashtag I quit. Give me chocolate, or give me death!”

He frowned.

“Hashtag?”

“I said, give me chocolate, or give me death!”

Ceto looked at herself in the mirror, fluffing her black wig. There was blood streaking down her cheek, but it didn’t bother her. If anything, it made the red of her lips look that much more vibrant. She smiled seductively at the mirror, admiring herself.

A kill always gave her the thrill she loved. The blood, the screams. It was like a melody to her ear that only death had the voice to sing. It was almost better than sex, she conceded, running her hands down her body.

The poor man from F-Inn had paid dearly for lying to her. Soon after her visit with Austrux, she had done some backtracking. It wasn’t hard to realize that the man at F-Inn had lied to her when she put two and two together.

It was the closest place to the cave where she’d kept Ambrose hidden. There were several other hotels that were more spread out, and a lot nicer, but it wasn’t hard to read her little pet’s mind. He didn’t want to go to Atlantis, and he couldn’t go to some high-class hotel where he would be recognized and reported.

No, her pet had to go to the nasty and the distant. It made complete sense, she thought. How could she not have just barged into the hotel upon leaving the message? It had only been a guess that he would be there, so she had just given a little warning to the man.

Ambrose might despise his brother, but Erikos was blood. Threatening him was the easiest way to get Ambrose out of his shell—and it had worked. The dumb fool had run right into Austrux’s view, who had told her. Now she knew all she needed to know, besides where he was now.

Austrux had not reported back to her in hours. She hadn’t been worried of course, too busy taking her fury out on the bastard who had lied when she asked if Ambrose was there. She had made his death, and everyone else’s who had been there, as painful and as long as she could make it.

While Ceto loved the screams, they did give her a headache.

She cupped her breasts, lifting them in the mirror. “Hmm,” she murmured, beginning to frown. “Might need another job,” she said to herself, contemplating.

Ceto shrugged, reaching for the tube of blood-red lipstick. It was her favorite shade—it matched the color of blood on her cheek.

Austrux was most likely waiting for her at her little shack. Ceto would hurry, but she loved taking her time. It was nice to keep them waiting, the anticipation. Austrux was new to all of this. Sure, he had dabbled in gambling and doing odd jobs for the wrong people, but taking out the past and future king?

Getting him anxious was simply too good to pass up! She pressed her lips together and then popped them, smiling into the mirror again. Hmm, maybe she should get rid of the blood. Ceto wanted to look presentable, right? The little souvenir from her kill would have to go.

Sighing, she swiped at her face.

Gone.

And time to meet her partner.

She turned away from the mirror, waving her hand out. Immediately, following the motion of her hand, was the swirl of water and ink. All it took was one swoosh and the portal began to swirl at an accelerating rate. Seconds later, it was ready for her to walk through.

Ceto stepped through the portal, and was washed in blackness.

Cool air flowed around her body and before she knew it, Ceto was standing in the center of the shack. An oceanic breeze blew into the beautiful shack, lifting back her hair. It was just as she had left it. There were no windows to block the streaming light, and coming in through the cracks of the wood were rays of sun. It was her favorite place in the world, besides her cave.

Sitting at the table, nervously fidgeting with his fingers, was Austrux. His blonde hair was erratic, like wind had just blown through it, and his eyes were darting all over the room. When he saw her, he jumped to his feet.

“Listen, Ceto—”

“What is wrong?” she asked, injecting a hint of worry into her voice. Not that she was. Ceto hadn’t been worried about another creature since the day she had realized Maxroy would never be hers. Why start now? It caused wrinkles to form on her too-perfect skin.

“I don’t think that doing this is a very good idea. I mean, I’m all for getting revenge but I don’t want to be caught and killed!” He stalked around the room, shoving his hands in his hair. It hadn’t been wind that had given him the messy hair, but himself. He had been worrying himself sick, she realized.

Ceto forced the spark of irritation to the back of her mind, touching his shoulder gently. “Calm down, love. Breathe. Here, take a seat and let me get you something to drink—”

“No!” he shouted, jerking away from her arms. “I can’t do this, and you’re going to make me! Ceto, I can’t. I don’t want to die, okay? I have to take over my father’s business and it’ll go to no one if I’m not there!”

Ceto growled mentally. Okay, strike one for being a weak little bitch. Where had all of this panic come from? Just the day before he had been more than ready to take help her take out Ambrose.

See, Ceto was normally a …one-man person. She did things by herself, she didn’t accept help, and she rarely kept “friends” long enough to grow close to them. Austrux was the only person that she had kept on the side, if only because of the great sex. Ceto thought she had pretty good judgment, so why, when she had thought he would stay with her through this, was he backing out now?

Fury flashed through her, but she stilled it. The best way to deal with this was to appeal to his sense of humanity.

She looked at him, stricken. “But I thought that we were going to do this together,” she whispered, touching his arm. He looked between her face and her hand, jaw working.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t. I can’t and I won’t—“

“Austrux,” she said, making her voice catch a higher-pitch. She slowly took her hand from his arm, looking at him as if she were a kicked puppy. “How could you do this to me?”

Her broken voice floated into the empty air as he stared at her, swallowing.

Ceto turned her face away from him, letting her shoulders curl as if in defeat. “I thought we were in this together…Our future relied on this. Me and you, together…what happened?” she asked into the air.

She didn’t look at him and let the question hang in the air. Seagulls squalled at them from outside. It was so quiet in the shack that she could hear the beat of their wings, the crash of the waves on the beach. She sniffled, covering her mouth.

“Ceto…” he said quietly. She felt his hand on her arm a second later. When she looked at him, her eyes were tearing up and the first drop had begun it’s way down her cheek.

“He took my family, too, Austrux. Because of him, I lost the only two people I ever loved. This was supposed to be for us,” she said forcefully, tearing herself away from his arm. “He took something from you, as well. Your brother?” she hissed.

Austrux flinched. “Little Geri will never grow into the man he should be. He was so smart, do you remember? The best in his class.”

She saw the pain flash through his eyes and continued. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would. Maybe threatening his life? Forcing him? She couldn’t place him in her cave and make her to the dirty work. The only place she could force anyone, to do anything, was in her cave. And she needed Austrux out of the cave.

“Your baby sister. Vixya? Her laugh was the sweetest anyone ever heard. Her eyes….How blue they were,” she whispered, staring into his own eyes deeply. She saw the resistance begin to crumble, and pressed on.

“She used to come swimming up to you after training. Those innocent locks just floated behind her. Don’t you remember them? Your family? Your blood? Ambrose stole them from you,” she snarled, taking his arm in a tight grip.

His chest exhaled sharply, the fire of rage building in his eyes.

“He took the most innocent creatures and sent them to hell for his actions. And you—Vixya would feel so betrayed if you didn’t do anything about it. She’s probably watching over you, wondering why you aren’t getting retribution. For her. Her friends. Her stolen life.”

Austrux shoved a hand through his hair, but not from anxiety. She saw the agony that overcame his face before he fell to his knees.

“He took them,” he whispered.

She nodded, touching his back. “And we will be the ones to take him.”

He jerked into a sitting position, slamming his hands on the table.

“The girl,” he said harshly, eyes taking on a light that she liked way too much.

“What about her?”

“We can use her. He took from us, we take from him,” he sneered. Ceto only rolled her eyes.

“That’s so incredibly cliché that it makes me laugh. There are so many novels and movies about the girl being used—“

“Ambrose is going to be inducted as the king, once he defeats H’Sai, in the next week. After that, we will have lost our chance.”

Ceto froze. “King? Again? Ambrose is in Atlantis?” she shouted, standing to her feet so fast the chair crashed behind her.

“My uncle saw it for himself. He’s part of the guard, and said he saw them clear as day. Ambrose almost killed Erikos.”

Ceto stilled, only realizing then that she had been pacing the small space. “You can’t be serious,” she said, shoving her hand in her hair with frustration. “Are you positive it was him?”

“Yes…” She cast a dark look at him when he cast off. “My uncle told me something, though. I don’t even know if I should believe him or not because I saw her with my own eyes the first time…”

“What?” she snapped. What could possibly be worse than what she already knew? Ambrose’s bitch was the same status as she was—meaning there would have to be a formal battle for her to die, and apparently Ambrose was about to regain his throne. God damn it, how could things be going so well for them?!

Rage, so intense that it almost scared even Ceto, surged through her so hard and quick that she could hardly breathe.

What Austrux said next didn’t help her at all.

“It seems that Mari is…” He paused, face twisting as if searching for the correct words. “It seems that Mari is no longer a minor goddess.”

Ceto stopped moving. The rage, the plan, everything. It all stopped moving for her.

“What do you mean?” she whispered, slowly walking towards him. His own face was confused, like he didn’t know how, or what, to say.

“She has the bearings of a god. A full Atlantean primary god. Black tail, red fins. Even her eyes, my uncle said, flashed red when Ambrose began attacking Erikos.”

“Are you sure that is what he saw?” she demanded.

“Positive.” He nodded.

Ceto blew out a barely calm breath, closing her eyes. How the fuck was this even possible? She looked at Austrux, who hadn’t looked away from her once.

“We should take the girl,” he said again, this time more forcefully.

Ceto growled. “Could have sworn I said that it was the dumbest idea I had ever heard of. She’s a god now. How well do you think that’s going to go when we show up and godnap her?”

Austrux smiled maliciously. “She doesn’t know how to use her powers.”

“And you’re sure of that how? You haven’t seen that side of her for yourself.”

“She’s a mortal turned Atlantean, Ceto. You can smell it coming off of her in waves. A mortal doesn’t know jack shit about our world; how could she have learned so quickly? And it might just be a ploy by the real gods, disguising her as one of their own,” he suggested, leaning back into the rickety chair and crossing his arms over his chest, a smug look taking over his face.

See, Ceto thought. That’s what she hated about males. They were always so smart, so right. They thought they knew everything and always wanted things to go their way. Like hell was Ceto actually going to let this man get away with thinking he was—

A dark look came over his face, completely at odds with the messy blonde locks that surrounded his face. “How about this? Either we do it my way, or I report you to any higher power that I can find.”

Fury engulfed her. “Are you serious? I could kill you right now. How dare you threaten me—“

“The gods have you on a watch. You kill one more Atlantean—remember the man from F-Inn?—and you’re terminated. Just like that.” His voice wasn’t his own. His eyes weren’t his own. His very demeanor wasn’t his own.

Ice slid down her spine, raising the hair at the back of her neck. Ceto narrowed her eyes on him, but something pushed her to take a step away from him. Autrux rose to his feet, and all it took was for her to blink.

A second. Just one second.

Austrux was no longer standing in front of her. No, whatever it was that stood in his place was something so much worse.

The thing was hulking, red, and pure evil. She could feel it pouring off of him in waves, beating against her senses and pushing her back. That icy feeling had been terror, she realized through her growing fear. It didn’t just slide down her back this time—but consumed her whole body until she was shaking.

Ceto had never been so petrified in her life.

It stood there, staring at her with eyes that were no longer blue and perfect. There were no white to his eyes, only pure, deadly black. The longer she stared, the more she saw. He didn’t speak a word to her, only stood there, his presence enough to make her shake with terror.

Her death. She could easily see her death in his eyes.

And wasn’t that enough to make you want to piss yourself?

“What are you?” she whispered, taking another step back. Her back collided with the counter, head pressed against the cupboard that was on top of it.

“An ally,” it said. Oh god. It’s voice. It was like nails on a blackboard—but deeper and more resonating.

“You want Ambrose gone.” It wasn’t asked as a question, but she nodded her head, mind slowly revolving around one thing. She was going to die. This thing in front of her was going to kill her. It had the look, the eyes, the face. The body. No longer was the thing a sex god—no, it was a killing machine. She had never encountered anything like it in her life.

There was no doubt in her mind that it could kill her with just a breath. No doubt in her mind that it would do so if she didn’t listen to it.

“Well,” he said, surging forward and grabbing her by the neck. She would have screamed, had his hand not cut off her airways. She clawed at his hand, feet kicking out. “I want something that Mari has.”

“Wh—atever. You want. Let me—“ He snarled, pulling her body away from the wall with one hand, then slammed her body into the cupboard behind her. The scream ripped from her air-deprived throat like a terrible wheeze as pain exploded behind her head.

“Shut the fuck up and wait till I’m done!” It slammed her against the boards again. Ceto was throbbing with too much pain to even think of speaking.

It tightened its fist around her throat. Her stomach heaved, but with no way to exit, it boiled like acid in her stomach. She was really going to die.

“We are going to do what I say. When I say. Don’t listen to me, and I’ll make sure you regret ever breathing. This is how it’s going to go, alright?”

She nodded as best she could, world beginning to spin. Ceto could barely hear what the thing was saying to her.

“Once I get what I want, Ambrose is all yours.”

Ceto gave one last attempt at clawing it, vision turning black at the edges. It loosened its grip slightly and she gasped, air filling her lungs in a rush.

“What…” She coughed, blinking as the word began to come back. “What do you want?”

It smiled for the first time, revealing sharp, yellow teeth. The bile rose quicker than it had last time. This couldn’t be happening—not really. It was impossible for something so evil to exist—surely the gods would have done something about it by now. Would have killed it. Or something.

“Poor little Ceto,” it growled, caressing her cheek with its thumb, squeezing her neck. “The reason your gods can’t do anything about me is simple. I’m not one of theirs—the Atlanteans had it all wrong when they thought they were the only pantheon.”

It paused, letting that terrifying information sink into her brain.

“Now, what I want?”

Ceto’s eyes flipped to his as horror began to set in.

“Deimos. She has him, and I want him.”

Ambrose growled and pulled her closer. A shudder ran down her back as the beginning of desire flashed through her body.

They’d had the longest talk in the history of talks—and it had been the best time of her life. She learned about Ambrose, his family, his past. His brother, his friends. They had shared each others’ souls. And even though her body was aching and nearly drained of all sensation, he somehow managed to rouse a fire deep inside of her every time he decided he wanted her—which was every fifteen minutes.

His arms wrapped around her waist, his thick length pressing against her stomach. She felt the faint tingle in her legs, and knew that in a matter of seconds, Ambrose would be inside of her—

“Open these fucking curtains!”

The shouting, and the commotion, barely registered in her mind. Her hands wrapped around his neck as their kiss turned heated, passionate—

“Ambrose, I know you’re in there! Open the damn door before this bastard kills me!”

Her lover jerked back from her, a growl rumbling from his chest. Mari gasped and reached for him, disappointed. “Just ignore them,” she whispered, taking his hand and not letting him go.

The look he gave her told her that he wanted just that, but he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m on thin ice. I can’t just—“

“Ambrose!”

Mari glowered, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest—

Gold flickered in her peripheral vision.

Her gaze snapped to her tail—no way. No freaking way, she thought, grabbing at her tail as joy crashed through her. “Ambrose!” she exclaimed, gathering the length of her tail and hugging it to her chest like it was a teddy bear. “My tail! It came back!”

He chuckled as he grabbed hold of a drawing string. “I was wondering when you would notice.”

She gasped then narrowed her eyes on him. “You knew?”

Ambrose looked at her over his shoulder. “Obviously.”

“You didn’t say anything?”

He shrugged. “Why would I? If I had said something, you wouldn’t have been focused on what we were doing…Plus,” he added, pulling the string. “Whenever I thought to mention it, I wanted you. So I took you. Simple enough?”

She would have been pissed beyond belief, but several factors held her silent.

First off, the drapes were open.

Standing outside of them was a whole legion of soldiers. All of them were panting, red in the face, and bloody. Mari sat up quickly, hand flying to her mouth.

“What the hell—“ Ambrose was just speaking her thoughts when Deimos charged into the room. The soldiers flew away from him like a stack of dominos on steroids and there he was. Face red, furious, arms bulging, fist clenched around daggers, and eyes flashing red and white.

“You,” he roared, shooting forward. Ambrose tried to block him as he came at Mari with ungodly speed, but Deimos knocked him away.

Ambrose cursed, slamming into one of the pillars. Mari quickly got to her feet, holding up her hands as he came to her—not in a defensive gesture, but as a soothing one.

“Left me!” His grating shout echoed throughout the temple. Mari winced guiltily, putting her hands on his shoulders when he got close enough for her to touch him. She didn’t make a move toward him, simply waiting for him while feeling like the worst mother in the world.

“No I didn’t,” she said calmly. Mari sensed Ambrose come up behind her and felt his worry wrap around her in a cold embrace, but she ignored him. Deimos was literally shaking—and not with fury. Well, not just with fury—but terror. She saw the look in his eyes, saw the way he was desperately staring into her own eyes, as if needing reassurance.

“Did. With him.” His face contorted as he struggled to talk, but she understood well enough. Mari ran her hands down his shoulders, nodding.

“I was. Deimos, why are you shaking?” she asked, changing the subject. It couldn’t be because she had sneaked away from him. Deimos would have been enraged, not scared shitless.

“Felt something—different.” His voice lowered as his eyebrows did. He cast a dark glance at Ambrose before settling them back on her. “Evil.”

She frowned. “What are you talking about? Deimos, you aren’t evil—“

“Yes he is,” Ambrose muttered.

“Shut it,” she snapped, wracking him with her tail. Mari focused on Deimos, who couldn’t seem to think of what to say. As the silence stretched on, the soldiers, or guards, or whatever the hell they were, moved out of the room—and with good cause. Deimos was still new to her, and very unpredictable.

“Can’t…Mari. Danger.”

She nodded, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “We knew Ceto is still out there. We’ll take care of her. Really, you don’t need to worry—“

“Not Ceto,” he grated, shoving his hands through his hair. Those animalistic eyes flickered with real fear, real frustration, before latching onto hers. “Must take you away.”

She started. “What?”

“Mari is the safest she could be right now,” Ambrose said, arms going around her waist. She barely took comfort in his arms. Unease slid through her body as she stared at Deimos. He was a man rarely affected—incredibly loyal and stoic as hell.

“Do you know something we don’t?” she asked him softly, keeping the fear out of her voice. He had come from the gods, so his abilities were unknown to her. God. What he knew, and what he couldn’t say, scared her shitless—or tailless. Could fishes shit?

Mari peeked up at Ambrose and saw the hard set of his jaw.

She could wait until later to ask him. Deimos was much more important—

“You never answered my question!” she raged, turning on Ambrose.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Ambrose frowned, and Deimos impatiently stirred his tail in the water.

“Farts! Can mermaids fart? Why didn’t you answer that when I asked you it! Do you know how rude that is? You leave me here to wonder whether I’m going to have a huge air-bubble in my ass!”

She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Why do you do this to me?!”

Ambrose sighed, staring at her. “Mari,” he said after another exhale.

“What?” she asked, stamping her tail. “Answer me!”

“Why in Atlantis do you do that?”

She started. Frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Ambrose trailed his fingers down her arm, then up, wrapping around her wrist. He gently disengaged them. “You know what I’m talking about. Whenever you’re scared or angry, you do something so completely opposite of the situation, so random, that I don’t know what the hell to say.”

She flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “You’re so tense right now. I was just waiting for you to change the topic as quickly as possible.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Deimos and I can talk this out by ourselves. You’re obviously worried, and if you can’t take this serious enough, then—“

She held up a finger sharply. Ambrose backed away, eyeing it. “First off, I am not worried—“

“I beg to differ—“

“Second off, I can take this perfectly serious—“

“’Can mermaids fart?’”

“Thirdly, I take offense to that. I don’t want to look bloated when I fart, so I need to know the dynamics of it.”

Ambrose didn’t say anything for a long moment.

When her lips began to purse with disapproval, he burst into laughter. “One of the most ridiculous women ever,” he said, taking her in his arms. She frowned against his chest.

“If this is concerning me at all, I should be able to know what’s happening.”

“Not safe,” Deimos growled from behind them. Mari looked over her shoulder at him, not knowing what to say. Deimos wasn’t going to let it go—but Ambrose was right. She had the weirdest, most inconvenient ideas when she didn’t like something.

And she really didn’t like this.

All she wanted to worry about was Ambrose taking back his throne. Which, going by how unwell H’Sai was, wasn’t going to be a problem. But now that Deimos was worried, he had her worried. And if she was worried, that meant Ambrose had to worry. She could try to tell him not to, but it was in his nature.

“Deimos,” Ambrose said, focusing on him even while tightening his arms, silencing her. “Is Ceto out of the picture then?”

He shook his head. Mari felt a weird sensation tingle along her spine as his red eyes shifted to pure white, then back. “Both of them. Both attack you.”

Mari swallowed, biting her lip. “Do you know when?” She forced herself to stay strong and not tremble with fear like she wanted to. Ambrose would be able to feel it, and then he would send her away to deal with this himself. And that wasn’t what she wanted at all—they had to stay together with this.

He was so used to being alone that even the thought of sending him to do something concerning her, while risking his life for her, was unfathomable.

And what if this happened during the coronation. What if this was something H’Sai was setting up? The man obviously wasn’t pleased that Ambrose was back. She felt a shiver of fear for him.

“Don’t—know. Soon. Days.”

So they had days for this to happen. Her heart stopped in her chest and she clutched Ambrose. “If this is Ceto, or H’Sai, I swear I’m going to kick their asses,” she said, completely serious. The very thought of Ambrose or Deimos in danger caused a rush of fury to flow through her. The memory of what had happened with the Octopians flashed through her mind.

If it came down to it, she would gladly go through all of that again just to keep them safe.

Ambrose was all she had left. No family, no teaching, no life. If all she could have was him, then she was keeping him.

Deimos frowned, breathing out roughly.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, stepping out of her man’s arms. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Protect you,” he grated as she took his hand, leading him out of the room. She didn’t worry about Ambrose following them—she could sense him behind her, and probably always would when he was near.

“Of course,” she said lightly.

“Where do you think you’re going with him?” Ambrose asked.

She looked over her shoulder, raising a brow. “I think it’s time we meet the people of Atlanits, no?”

“With him?”

Mari narrowed her eyes. “Yes. With him. They need to meet their first in command.”

“Deimos isn’t going to be my first in command,” he said, sighing.

“That’s what you think.”

“Who is she?”

“Why does she...smell?”

“She laughs?”

“She stands so close to the Exiled One!”

“Her tail...she is of the gods?”

“Never have I seen someone like her before...”

Ambrose heard all of the questions, and was more than positive that she heard them as well. He expected angry glares or angry comments, or something. Instead, all she did was stare.

A lot. And laugh. A lot.

She laughed at the fishes, laughed at the people, and laughed at the buildings. He had a feeling that it was almost a little too much for her, but at least she wasn’t crying. Or yelling. Or poking.

Thank the gods she wasn’t poking him.

They had only been out for a couple minutes, but already the whole entire city was flooding the streets to see her. Her tail was different than it had been before, but word must have spread quickly about her.

She had the tail of a minor goddess, yet the people had heard she was an actual god. He could only imagine their confusion—which he felt as well. Ambrose had no clue what was going on with her tail, and honestly, the thought of what really was happening?

Scared the shit out of him.

The gods were playing with something, and he didn’t know what. He was pretty sure that even they didn’t know.

Why Mari?

Why did they chose her? There was no doubt in his mind that they had chosen Mari, specifically. There was also no doubt that they had caused her ship to sink on purpose. She’d told him all about the cruise, how quickly it had sunk, and how she suspected that no one was left alive.

It had to be the gods’ doing. There was no other way or reason. They wanted her for something—but for what? Before this, from what Ambrose had gathered, Mari had been nothing but a teacher with a dumbass boyfriend. She had had a normal life, normal family, and normal...everything.

As she grabbed his arm and excitedly pointed at another fish, one of the rare species that they kept locked in Atlantis for their protection, he couldn’t understand what had made the gods pick her.

She was too innocent. Too sweet. Too kind. Too perfect. Too temperamental. He hadn’t had a chance to ask them why before H’Sai had started raging and demanding all of the attention on him, and he had been too furious to stick around once the gods had decided on something.

The throne.

Him. On it. Again. After two thousand years. That was no time for his kind, but after so long just by yourself, in a cave, being tormented like he had been? It seemed like the world was spinning in the opposite direction.

Especially because not only did he have himself to worry about, he had Mari—and because of Mari, he had Deimos. Who, at this moment, was staring at Mari like she had an invisible chain on him and was dragging him around as she went from site to site.

“Gods, what in the hell is that thing doing here?”

His head snapped in the direction of a voice, a wheezy sound that came from an old, haggard Atlantean. His chest was bare, showing how stooped his back was and the cave that was his stomach. Ambrose knew who he was talking about.

The old man had reached the end of his line. Rarely did an Atlantean reach the point that the man was at now, but it happened. Too many battles, too many addictions. He saw the spotting around the old man’s throat and knew instantly what had caused the aging.

Tiny, black spots. Only users knew about the addiction, besides Ambrose. As king, he was forced to know every single bit of information there was. Including the fact that Octopian blood was highly addictive.

It was normally only the older men, the ones that had been in battle, that became addicted. Disappointment made him shake his head at the man, carrying on. Mari was only a couple feet in front of him, groups of children beginning to clump around her. He smiled at the sight. Mari was—

“Ugly slut, too. What is the king thinking, bringing back that trash into the city?”

Ambrose tensed, forgetting all about Mari.

Slowly, he turned around and met the indignant eyes of the old addict. Rage flashed through him as the man opened his mouth again, showing what little yellow teeth he had left. “Think you can get protection just because you are around a whore god? We all hate you, you son of a bitch.”

Everyone within a couple of feet froze—Mari was too far away to hear what had been said, and thank god.

Ambrose felt his chest shift, hands clenching. He had to gain their respect, not their hate for killing an old male. He inhaled, closing his eyes. Don’t respond. Just don’t respond to them and get back to Mari and make sure the people like her at least.

“I would soon as kill that bitch god than be loyal to you!” he shouted, spitting.

Fury slid down his back like a cool finger brushing over his muscles. Don’t kill him—

He saw a flash of black hair before the man was shoved away from him, to the back of the crowd.

“This is your future king. As much as you don’t like it, it’s true. And I’d just as soon see you dead before you speak out against my brother.”

Erikos. His brother.

Standing up for him?

Rage still flowed through him, and he wanted nothing more than to take care of the sorry old bastard by himself, but Mari’s innocent laugh in the distance helped calm him. He glanced at her to make sure she was okay and saw hundreds of little merbabies swimming all around her, pointing out fish to her.

That was the only reason he didn’t attack the old man—and his brother. That bastard dare stand up for Ambrose after handing him over to Ceto?

Mari, his mind whispered. She would be devastated.

The echo of her cries from earlier, as he beat the holy hell out of his brother, rang in his ears. He couldn’t do that to her again, not when she was having so much fun. Besides all of the speculation, the children were entranced by her—which meant that the parents were equally accepting.

Atlantean children had a knack for knowing the difference from enemy and friend. It was the instinct that had kept their people alive for so many years. The older they got, the more diluted their instincts became. They were so used to the cushioned life that their ancestors genes were buried deep in their minds, locked away.

He had known Mari would be accepted—just like the gods would have.

“You sure are one to talk!” the man broke out, shoving back at Erikos. The black spots on his neck widened because of the strain, turning a deep purple on the edges, before going back to normal. “What kind of brother abandons his own blood?”

His dull brown tail whipped out, barely missing Erikos. He saw a flash of unrecognizable emotions flicker over his brothers face before the dark locks blocked Ambrose’s vision. He expected Erikos to lash out, to retaliate.

Shock held him still when he didn’t.

Erikos only cast the man a disgusted look, pointedly eyeing the splotches on his neck. “Would watch what you say, old man. Not too sure those spots can handle any more activity.”

A clear threat to the man that only the three of them would understand. Something like pride settled in his chest as the man before the two brothers began to pale, hand coming up to cover the dots. Atlanteans, other than the users and the ruling power, thought that they came with age. There were only a select few Atlanteans old enough to have reached the stage of withering away with visible signs of Octopian use, but those who had, had all been warriors at one point. Fighting with his father, arm and arm, and this is what had become of the warrior.

The man seemed to know a threat when he saw one, casting a glance at the younger Atlanteans around him. His face was devoid of color and the splotches were stretching again as he struggled to think of something to say.

After a moment of tense silence, he forced his way through the quiet, astonished crowd, and left the brothers to deal with the crowd.

Not like there was much to deal with though. As quick as a startled school of fish, they cleared away from him.

Ambrose didn’t realize he had been holding in a breath until they were all gone, water expelling from his chest forcefully.

“What the fuck was that?” he growled, rounding on his brother.

Erikos, the younger version of him, met his furious gaze head-on. “If I didn’t do something, you would have.”

“Why would you even bother? Last time I checked,” he said, anger beginning to course through his blood, “you left me high and dry in front of the council. What right do you have to come to my defense now?”

Ambrose watched a dark look pass over his brother’s face before he masked it. “You need to take the throne. If the people hate you, that won’t happen, no matter how badly you defeat H’Sai.”

He couldn’t stop the growl that rose in his chest. Erikos was acting like he cared, and Ambrose didn’t believe anything he had to say.

“You’re a disgrace,” he snapped, shoving Erikos’s shoulder, forgetting about Mari. Memories of all their adventures flashed in his mind, furthering his anger.

Erikos didn’t hit back like Ambrose had planned. He simply went with the force that hit him and stared at Ambrose. “I’m sorry,” he said, so softly that Ambrose almost missed it.

“Sorry? That’s all you can say to me? I was tortured for two thousand years because you couldn’t get your head out of your ass. I still remember how you took the spear and left. No words, no looks, no nothing.”

He heard Mari’s happy voice in the distance, something telling him he needed to stop.

But he couldn’t. Not when he was facing his blood brother—his betraying brother.

“I took care of you for so long,” he growled, hands fisting, pain flashing through him. “I got you out of trouble, I took care of you, I gave you everything you needed when I was on the throne. But when my loyalty to Atlantis, after all I did to protect it, comes into question? What do you do? You leave me,” he roared, surging forward.

Erikos didn’t move.

He forgot about the people that were beginning to watch them, he forgot about Mari. He forgot about the consequences and the tugging. All Ambrose could think about was how much he wanted to kill the only brother he had ever had.

Ambrose brought up his fist.

“What’s going on?”

He froze.

Mari’s confused, lovely voice floated into his ears and all motion stopped.

Erikos looked behind Ambrose’s shoulder, and he watched the transformation that came over his brother’s face.

The smile, the charm, was all too familiar to Ambrose. Erikos lost the stoic look in his eyes and grinned at Mari, slinging an arm around Ambrose’s shoulder.

He tensed, really wishing he could rip Erikos a new one.

“Is everything okay?” Mari asked slowly, giving his brother a dubious look before settling her gaze on Ambrose.

She knew.

Ambrose could have punched himself.

As her eyes took on the coolest, most stony look he had ever seen, he knew he had messed up.

“Everything’s fine,” Erikos said casually, trying to take control of the situation. The merbabies that had been swimming around Mari were several feet away, watching their new role model with wide eyes.

“You sure about that?” she asked. Her hand landed on her hip as her eyes narrowed.

Ambrose didn’t bother lying—he just stayed quiet. Mari knew that he had been about to beat his brother to the holy hell and she wasn’t pleased.

“Yes, ma’am. My brother and I were just talking.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Strike one, Ambrose thought.

“Really?”

“Strategy and all of that,” he continued, looking at Ambrose as if they shared a secret.

Strike two.

“Brother stuff,” he finished, flashing her another smile.

That one she didn’t respond to at all.

Strike three.

Her head tilted to the side. “Oh. Wow. For a second there, I thought Ambrose was about to tear you apart. I must have been really wrong—that, or you just lied to my face.”

Erikos shifted uncomfortably.

“Just so you know,” she hissed, leaning forward. Both Ambrose and Erikos leaned backwards, not daring to take go an actual step back, but wary of what she was going to do.

Her finger came out, and he cringed.

“I’m not much for being lied to. Actually, I hate it. And whatever was going on with you and Ambrose doesn’t even matter to me so long as it doesn’t affect him taking the throne, and as long as he doesn’t get into trouble for killing your dick ass!

“You can be a sleazy little shit all you want,” she continued, eyes flashing red. “But the second you start lying to us, we have a problem. A really big problem. Ambrose is going to be king, and what are you going to do if you lie to him? He isn’t too happy with you now, and I highly doubt he’ll be happy with you then. And I,” she said, pointing at herself, “won’t even care.”

By the time she was done, Erikos was red in the face, Mari was panting, and Ambrose could feel himself getting aroused. Holy god the woman was sexy when she wasn’t angry at him.

“Low enough to betray your brother, and low enough to lie. I dealt with kids like you all of the time,” she snapped, turning that finger on Erikos. He felt his brother flinch as she stabbed at his chest. “I watched their lives fall apart because of what you’re doing now. If you’re on some sort of fish-crack, tell me now. That breaks up families like nothing else. Was it jealousy that made you leave him? Greediness? That must have worked out well for you, seeing as you aren’t the king right now!”

All color immediately drained from Erikos’s face.

“Well?” she asked, shoving her hair away from her face. “Can’t say anything about it? Because you know what you did was wrong? Yeah, well—”

Erikos elbowed him sharply in the side, and she stopped speaking. “What?”

“If you really want to have this conversation now, we need to take it elsewhere.”

“There isn’t anything to talk about.” Ambrose broke in before Mari could open her mouth again. Her eyes flashed red.

“Actually,” Erikos murmured, casting a guarded glance around the area. Atlanteans were beginning to be bold, moving in close enough that they could hear the conversation. The merbabies had long flapped away, too scared off by the sudden hostility to stick around. “There is. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him—”

“If you’re talking to him, then I’m coming too.” Mari asserted herself, lips pursing.

“Mari—”

She cut off Ambrose with a hard look. “I have to make sure you don’t kill him.”

“I would appreciate that,” Erikos said around a sigh, shoving a hand through his dark hair.

“Not for you. For Ambrose.”

“I know this.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Then she turned sharply on her tail and began swimming away from them. Ambrose watched her with pressed lips.

She stopped, hands clenching at her sides. “I’m going the wrong way, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you kind of are.”

Erikos led them to a small alley, and after gesturing for his brother to open one of the glamors, they stepped inside of it. The strange girl that Ambrose brought with him followed behind them with her mouth open and her eyes wide, like this was all new to her.

She was of the gods, so Erikos could understand. Some goddesses were kept hidden for their own safety, and rarely saw the city that they originated from.

Mari, Ambrose had called her, muttered things to his brother as he led them through one of the tunnels. He didn’t hear what they were saying—which was odd. As an Atlantean, he could hear most of everything that happened around them.

He cast a glance over his shoulders and met the glowing white eyes of the demon that guarded Mari. Erikos jerked forward. Right. So the demon guy could shield conversations. That was great. He could probably rip them all to shreds if he wanted to. Which was also great.

How was he going to tell them? The thought kept running through his mind, tormenting him. He had thought of millions of ways to tell Ambrose what had really happened. Had thought of millions of ways to choke out the words he knew Ambrose would never believe. He had thought of millions of ways to try to make up for it, had he ever seen his brother again.

Great job he’d done of that, he thought, chest aching. First sight of his brother and they’d tried to kill each other.

Ambrose would never believe him. He would never forgive him. He would not even think of Erikos as his own brother anymore. Ambrose was loyal to a sharp point—but to leave him to that? To make him go through all those years of torture? Being held captive against his will?

Nothing could take that pain away. The gods hadn’t outright said anything to him, but he knew the story. He’d dreamed of his brother, been sent to his cave when his mind was most weak. The gods had tormented him, watching his own brother suffer because he hadn’t been fast enough to save him, to get Kai and sort everything out.

Along with the dreams of his brother’s torment, he’d seen so many things. About Atlantis. About the danger. Erikos prayed nightly for the gods to give him a break, to let him have a dream of peace...it never came. He was tired, devastated, and at the end of his life.

Why they did this to him, he didn’t know. But maybe by making peace with his brother, or telling him what had really happened the day of the trial, he could reconcile what had been done.

The room they entered was dimly lit and cut off, one of the escape tunnels of the palace. None of the citizens knew of them. It was only the royal family, and the only one who could open them, or summon them, was the heir.

Who, as he turned around and forced his nerves to calm down, was not looking very approachable.

“What?” Ambrose snapped. Erikos stayed silent for a moment, staring at his brother as the voice that held no love wrapped around his heart, squeezing.

The goddess moved closer to Ambrose, her hand lightly touching his arm.

Ambrose took one look at her and his shoulders instantly deflated, like she had popped a blowfish. Yeah, thank the gods she had come with them. Erikos doubted they would have made it this far if it hadn’t been for her.

“The trial.” His voice was short, abrupt. Suddenly, all of the played out conversations, all of the pre-thought ideas, were gone. His throat closed up. His tail had a hard time staying still.

He worked his jaw, trying to get something out.

Nothing.

“What about it?” the goddess asked, shimmering tail whipping back and forth. The demon that was behind her growled, pressuring him.

He shoved a hand down his face.

“The trial. The night of the trial. I need to tell you what happened.”

“This should be great,” Mari muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ambrose ignored her, staring at his brother. He had never expected to see Erikos again, and never expected this moment to happen. But it was—and he had no clue what to do.

Could he believe anything his brother told him? Could he actually trust a word out of Erikos’s mouth? Before the trial, he had never doubted his brother. But when Ambrose had needed him most, Erikos hadn’t been there.

He saw the struggle in his brother’s eyes, the frustration, but Ambrose stayed silent. Hell, even if he knew what to say, he wouldn’t say it anyway. After all the shit he had been put through because of Erikos, he was going to enjoy the struggle his brother was going to go through in trying to create a bullshit story.

“That night, the night before…You left on one of your escapades before I could tell you, but that night the gods…” He stopped, scrubbing a hand over his face. Ambrose noticed how haggard he was, how tired and past his age he looked. “The gods—at least, I think it was them. I’m not sure how else I could have known—“

Erikos cut himself off.

Breathed.

“Ambrose, you’re my brother. My blood. I would never have wished any of the things that Ceto did—“

“How did you know it was Ceto that did it?” Ambrose growled, surging forward. The very fact that his brother knew it had been Ceto was proof enough for him that Erikos had wanted his torment to happen.

Mari grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Let him talk,” she said quietly. Her voice held the knowledge of a woman who knew conflict, who simply knew.

Ambrose inhaled, forcing himself to stay still as her eyes bore into his—and flashed white.

Behind her, Deimos growled. He should have taken it as a signal that something wasn’t right.

Ambrose looked at him, then back at Mari.

He froze.

Her tail. No longer was there a golden tail casting a shimmering glow over her body. The tail was still there, but faint, covered with the image of the double-finned black tail. It wasn’t completely there, but the image was strong enough that he could see it, like her body couldn’t make up its mind on what it wanted Mari to be.

Ambrose heard his brother’s shocked inhale, but Mari wasn’t paying attention to any of them. Her eyes were focused solely on Erikos—except she wasn’t even looking at him. She was looking through him.

He took her hand, trying to draw her attention away from Erikos, who was staring at her like she was an Octopian about to eat his heart out. “Mari?” he whispered, trying to jostle her.

Deimos gripped his shoulder in a death grip, stopping him. “Don’t. Touch.”

Even though he tried to get her out of the stupor, her body was unmoving. Stony. Completely unmovable.

“Talk,” she commanded. The voice that spoke was…deeper. Not Mari. A shiver ran down his back as he stared at her. The natural glow of the room flickered for a second, as if it realized that something was wrong with her. As if her underlying power was affecting the ocean itself.

Erikos swallowed, breathing shallow.

Deimos growled again, shoving Ambrose away from Mari. “No touching.”

“I said,” Mari repeated, eyes flashing from white to red in a matter of milliseconds. “Talk.”

Erikos went rigid at her tone, but hastily did as she said.“Dream—I, ah, I had a dream. The night before. Ceto was picking up the book. No one was in the room. She was the one who sunk Atlantis—not Ambrose. But then it switched—the dream did. It showed the trial, and one of the minors gods taking the spear.”

Ambrose tensed. “If they had taken the spear, they would have taken over Atlantis.”

“I know,” Erikos said, fists clenching at his sides. “Atlantis was so important to you. I think, somewhere inside of your mind, you felt like it was all you had of mom and dad left.”

Ambrose didn’t respond, looking away as an ache formed in his chest.

“Go on,” Mari hissed, her stony body vibrating.

“I couldn’t let one of them take it—he was dirty, terrible. In the dream, there was a black cloud around him, like he bathed in evil. I couldn’t let Atlantis fall into the wrong hands—so I did what I had to.

“I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. When the place began sinking, I tried seeking you out. I had no clue when Ceto was going to do it—I didn’t have time. I was going to warn you, to try and—“ His voice broke, like it was too painful to talk.

Ambrose’s heart felt like lead in his chest. Could he actually believe this? He desperately wanted to. It was something, he realized, that Erikos would do. While Ambrose had cared for his brother, Erikos had always been the one to warn him of trouble, to try to fix whatever it was before it became a problem for Ambrose.

“When it began, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t find you, couldn’t find her. She wasn’t at the temple—it was empty. Ambrose, you have to believe me. I did everything I could to try and save you, warn you.”

Erikos stopped speaking, looking at Ambrose beseechingly.

His throat worked as indecision warred in him. The desperate look in his brother’s eyes was believable, and he could honestly feel the waves of truth pouring out of his brother’s soul.

“When you took the spear, what did you do with it?” he asked roughly, barely able to talk. His throat was so closed up that he couldn’t even breathe through his mouth.

“I hid it. I only had a matter of time before I was kicked out—I’m not a god or a true royal, not like you. I have no place in the council. I would have stayed if I could, defended you, but the gods would have taken offense… They gave me a mission and I had to do it—to protect you.”

“Where?” he grated, ignoring everything else, pain coursing through every vein in his body. If what his brother was saying was actually true…

Erikos had risked his life for Ambrose. He had done the best he could. The spear was what gave a being control over Atlantis. His father had had it, Ambrose had had it—-

“Where no one would ever find it. I took it from you as quickly as I could—I saw the minor god that wanted to take it. He was there, waiting. About to take it from you. You know what could have happened in just a few seconds—“

“I do. But….why didn’t you take it?” Ambrose asked, eyes flipping up and meeting Erikos’s.

He frowned. “Why would I?”

“Jealousy? Greed? Power? Man will do anything to obtain control,” Ambrose said, agonized.

Erikos’s frowned deepened. “I have never been jealous of you—I saw the strain ruling Atlantis put on you. I would have helped you rather than take from you. Ambrose,” he said, eyes flashing with pain. “You actually think that after all of the years you cared for me and raised me, I would do that to you?”

Ambrose closed his eyes on a wave of agony so intense that it made it hard for him to breathe. “I don’t know what to think. If you thought Atlantis was so important to me, why didn’t you take over? Why let H’Sai take control? I can feel the city crumbling at the roots.”

“You know what has to happen for the crown to switch hands,” Erikos said fiercely, slashing a hand through the water. “I wasn’t going to put you in the position that you would have to kill me to take back the throne.”

“You wouldn’t kill me?”

“No. I would sooner die than make you feel more guilt over losing blood.”

Sweet fucking Atlantis. Emotion slammed inside of Ambrose’s chest like an explosion had burst inside of his heart, releasing all of the pent-up torment he had been feeling for centuries. Ambrose hadn’t thought his brother would have the hindsight to protect Atlantis like he had, had doubted his brother to the point of trying to kill him—only to find out that his brother had been trying to protect him and Atlantis.

Ambrose was overwhelmed, but one question remained in his mind.

“Where is the spear?”

Erikos looked at Mari—who was slowly coming back to her normal self. The shimmer of the godly tail was gone, and her original tail was back. When Erikos looked to Deimos, he sneered like the bastard he was.

“I don’t know if they should...”

“If you trusted them enough to tell me what really happened, then you trust them enough to tell me where the spear is. Mari and I are hand-in-hand, Erikos. What I know, she knows.” He wouldn’t have it any other way, either. Mari was most trustworthy person he had ever met. Hell, he trusted her more than he trusted himself.

“I’m sleepy.”

Mari.

He looked at her quickly, she was wobbling on her tail. The clarity had returned to her eyes, but with it, came exhaustion. As she looked at him like she had no clue where she was; he realized something.

With one simple look, with just two little words, Mari had the ability to take away the most intense pain he had ever felt before. He could physically feel the tension draining out of his shoulders as he watched her rub at her eyes, a low yawn opening her mouth.

For a moment, he could pretend that he hadn’t tried to kill his brother. He could pretend that he hadn’t appreciated what Erikos had tried to do for him. For a moment, he could pretend like his world hadn’t just been rocked.

“Are you okay?” he asked, shooting Erikos a dark “be quiet” look as he brought his arm around Mari, pulling her against him. He shouldn’t be so forward, but something inside of him called for him to touch her. She was like a drug, and he couldn’t get enough. Even taking her into his arms was enough to last him a lifetime of happiness.

“I don’t know.” A small crease appeared between her brows. She looked up at him, confused. “Did you try to kill him? I only remember grabbing you before you could hit him...but after that I feel like I fell asleep or something.”

“I didn’t try to kill him,” Ambrose said. Not after what I learned, anyways...

She narrowed her eyes up at him. “I heard something about a spear. No one is being impaled, right?”

He shook his head. “No one is being impaled.”

“She doesn’t remember a thing?” Erikos asked, looking between them, confused.

Ambrose shrugged, looking down at Mari who was rubbing her eyes again. “Remember what?” she asked.

He sighed. Of course. One of the most important moments of his life, besides meeting her, and she didn’t even remember. He could just imagine her not remembering having their first child after she wakes up from...

Ambrose stopped cold.

No. No babies. None of that. Mari would never lower herself into reproducing with a man like him. He had attacked his brother without knowing the full truth, had thought he was going to kill Erikos. Already he was taking too much liberty with holding her in his arms right now, but it was need, desperate need, that made him touch her.

He didn’t need to have a child with her.

But thinking of her swelling with his young, thinking of that ethereal glow that would grace her perfect face, and the way she would rely on him for all of her needs...He forced the ache out of his heart. Now was not the time to think of Mari like that—there would never be a time.

“I, ah...”

She smiled at Erikos reassuringly. “You’re okay. I wasn’t really biting your head off back there—I just wanted to scare you. Do you think it worked?” she asked, looking up at Ambrose.

He looked to Erikos for help, who nodded.

“Yes, Mari. I think it worked,” he replied indulgently.

“Okay. So you guys don’t hate each other anymore?”

Ambrose glanced at Erikos. There were still going to be a lot of problems. Still a lot of pain. Still a lot of misunderstandings. But he knew the truth, and that was enough for now.

“No, Mari. We don’t.”

Erikos exhaled sharply, and Ambrose tried not to look at his brother. He could only imagine what his brother had put himself through after all of the years Ambrose had been away. Then he heard the hitched breath and the swishing of water. Despite what he told himself he wasn’t going to do, Ambrose looked.

And instantly dropped his arms from around Mari and went to his brother.

“I am sorry,” he said softly, never meaning anything more than those three words, putting a hand on Erikos’s shoulder. “You’re my brother, my very blood. Nothing will ever break that bond.”

Erikos turned his face away, but not before Ambrose saw the redness in his brother’s eyes. Ambrose hated showing weakness. He hated touching people. He hated being touched—by anyone except Mari.

But as he saw the pain his brother felt, emotion wracked through him so hard that he couldn’t stop himself from jerking his little brother against his chest and hugging the only blooded family he had left.

Six days, eight hours, and forty-something minutes later, Mari was a complete and utter mess. They only had so many more hours—Mari had lost count while counting how long it had been since the issue had been ordered—and her head was the equivalent to a broken calculator.

And being a math teacher in high school, that wasn’t always the most preferred thing.

She paced around the room that Ambrose and she had settled into it. It wasn’t the room they’d first made love in, but it was nice and cozy and where she spent most of her time daydreaming when she wasn’t out exploring Atlantis, much to Ambrose’s and Deimos’s dismay.

The thought that Ambrose thought he could keep her inside the palace while a whole entire city waited for her to search around was…hilarious. So hilarious, in fact, that she took every chance she got to sneak off.

Mari, by the end of the day, had met at least five new people. They weren’t scary like she had thought would be, and they weren’t eccentric like she had assumed. The Atlanteans had their quirks, but the more time she spent with them, the more she came to realize that the only things that set them a part were the tails and how they lived.

They were so normal that it almost shocked her—which furthered her goal to meet new people every day. And Mari knew that even though Ambrose and Deimos didn’t like her sneaking off, she could tell that Ambrose was pleased she wasn’t cowering, poking, and crying.

Why he would have thought she would react like a simpering lady, she had no idea. Mari was more than ready to get out and live her new life!

Yes. Mari missed teaching. Yes. Mari missed her family. But did she want to leave Ambrose and Deimos for them? No. If her family somehow managed to find her and beg her to come back, Mari knew she would say no. There was no way she could ever leave Ambrose and the new life she had begun for herself. Plus, he had already warned her of the dangers for living on the surface as an Atlantean.

The last six days with him had been the best six days of her life. Mari would not have chosen any other man to be with, any other place to be.

Every single night, Ambrose made it a point to touch her, hold her. He made it a point to make her toes curl with never-ending pleasure. Made it a point to make her feel how much he cared for her since he couldn’t outright say it.

Mari didn’t mind. To her, they had all of the time in the world. Being with Ambrose, being in his arms, and knowing he wanted her like no other man had before, was enough.

She was confident that he could beat the sweet fish out of H’Sai. The poor old bastard had cornered her several times during the week, when Ambrose wasn’t near her.

He tried to get her on his side. Tried to tell her that Ambrose was nothing but a traitor and he would leave her the second he took throne. He told her about all of the women Ambrose had had, and Mari…didn’t care.

At all.

She knew who Ambrose wanted. Hell—he didn’t want her, he craved her. Every chance he got, he’d take her. Their passion was so hot and dangerous that Mari had become almost wary of how she felt when Ambrose got that look in his eyes. Like he couldn’t get enough of her and never would.

But, of course, the second she saw his legs and the second his hand caressed her body, she forgot all about the aching and the weariness. All she could think about was having him inside of her—and she swore he could read her mind because what she wanted, she got.

The thought had her shivering, a blush coming over her face.

Ambrose was, in all honesty, perfection.

And about to fight H’Sai.

The smile that had spread across her face dropped. It wasn’t that she was scared about Ambrose not winning—by the way H’Sai kept begging for her to be on his side, H’Sai himself knew he was only going to be king for a limited time—but she was worried about Ceto, and whatever had Deimos scared out of his mind for her.

Actually, he wasn’t even scared. He was terrified. To the point where she could barely get away from him for some alone time with Ambrose. Deimos was slowly becoming more fluent, and even though he talked with growls and snarls more than anything, he still found a way to tell her that she needed to be locked up.

She snorted.

Yeah. Locked up. Deimos was cute and all, but he was crazy.

Mari would sooner shoot herself than be locked up. She’d felt that way with Ray for most of their relationship, and she wasn’t going to go back to that.

Deimos was just going to have to deal with it. She was the step-in mother, not Deimos. Or Ambrose. Or any of the other guards that the two had made try to follow her around.

Keyword being “try.”

Mari wiped her hands on the scales of her waist, squaring her shoulders.

She could do this.

She was going to go out into the hall, find Ambrose, and be there for him. She would not worry about Ceto. She would not worry about the gods, she wouldn’t worry about anything except Ambrose.

With that thought in mind, she swam forward and pulled the drawing string, revealing the door. The two guards stationed on either side glanced at her impassively before snapping to attention.

“Ambrose does not want you to leave the room without his permission,” the guard on the left said.

“And he didn’t give it,” the guard on the right added hastily, both of them moving to block her from exiting the door.

Mari growled with irritation, causing both of them to step away from her. “I want to know where he is,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, tail flicking around her, showing how irate she was.

They glanced at each other.

Both of the guards were dressed in what she had taken to calling “the standard fish-suit.” Black shoulder guards, blood-red chest plates, and helmets that covered every part of their face except for their eyes. The metal, or whatever it was, was so well made that it was like a second skin, or like a layer of paint. She could easily see their faces and the shape of them, but only their eyes weren’t covered by the skin-clinging metal.

So when doubt flickered in their gazes as the two guards looked between each other, Mari barely suppressed another growl. She had to find Ambrose before she chickened out. Deimos’s warnings were in the back of her mind and slowly growing to a dull roar.

“Does sushi sound good to you?” she asked innocently. She examined her nails, then looked up at the guards from under her lashes. “I love me some sushi.”

Their eyes widened a split second before they were gesturing her down the hall. She held in her sigh of relief and followed them, already anxious to see Ambrose. Deimos was most likely with him—when he wasn’t watching Mari’s every move, Deimos chose to be around the only other man who didn’t piss himself whenever the tattooed “demon” came up to them.

The guards led her to the very end of the palace, and they passed through black marble doors before they stopped at the blocked-off entrance. She peeked over their shoulders, about to push passed them.

“He is in training,” a guard said, blocking her.

“So? Let me in,” she demanded. When she tried to go around them, they only moved to block her.

“It’s not safe.”

“Oh, my god. Just let me—“

“Mari?” Her heart stopped at the sound of her lover’s voice before a wide smile spread over her face. One of the guards moved out of her way reluctantly and she swam forward, kissing Ambrose’s cheek.

Then she noticed the blood, bruises, and cuts.

“What the hell happened?” she asked, worry lacing her voice as she touched his cheeks gently. Small threads of his skin were already detaching and fastening the wound together, leaving only a streak of blood behind.

He shrugged, looking at the guards behind her. “I thought I said I wanted her to stay in the room.”

They shifted uncomfortably.

Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t aware I was a locked up pet.”

Ambrose sighed, putting an arm around her shoulder and leading her out of the small room and into another area. Wonder opened her eyes as she took in the scene around her.

The room was completely black, with only two small lights glowing on opposite corners. Tiny red inscriptions were engraved all throughout the room, so microscopic that if she hadn’t been so entranced by the chamber, she wouldn’t have noticed it.

A groaning came from behind her and she whipped around to see black marble doors opening. Almost as large as the doors that led to the courtroom, the large chunks of marble parted to reveal an even more dominating room.

Instead of being completely black, the place was coated with what looked like silver—but it couldn’t be. It was so shiny that it was almost iridescent, yet at a certain angle, objects gleamed at her with a metallic cast. There were stands set up against walls that spanned about two semi-trucks in length. The ceiling was the tallest she had ever seen. So much so that if she wanted to make out the top, she had to squint.

Mari realized that the ceiling was dome-shaped, the center of it an open hole; at least, it looked like one. She doubted that what obviously looked like a training room would have an open hole where it would be easy for someone to invade them. If someone found the entrance to that hole and broke through, Mari thought, they would have complete access to the palace and to whoever was inside of it.

“I’ve been busy,” he said, shrugging.

“I can see that,” she whispered with awe.

Ambrose really had been busy. There were twenty or so Atlanteans groaning, on the ground, clutching their stomachs as if they were in intense pain. Scattered on the ground were clusters of weapons. From swords, to blades, to spears, to arrows, it was all on the ground.

“Are you beating up the big bad men?” she asked, laughing. Mari ventured forward, deeper into the spacious, almost alien-like, room. She heard the marble doors close behind her but didn’t turn around.

“Just training. The dual is in an hour and Kai said I should be prepared.”

Mari snorted. “Prepare for taking down an old man who has to use pity to gain people’s sides?”

“No,” he answered her quietly before going over to the men and helping them into a sitting position.

It was then that Mari noticed something different about him. Not the rapidly disappearing cuts or the bruises, but how he held himself, the look in his eyes.

“Kai believes that something is going to happen—not with H’Sai. Deimos is out running rounds over the palace, along with a legion of other men.”

Mari slowly moved toward him. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”

When she put her hand on his shoulder, she felt the tensing of his shoulders and swore her own arm cramped up. “Ceto doesn’t want me to be happy,” he said lowly, eyes flashing with pain. “I already know that she’s coming.”

Her eyes widened. “How?” she breathed, kneeling down. Ambrose stared at her hard, as if this was the last time they would see each other. Her heart broke at the sight.

“Because of you. I know Ceto. I know she knows about you. You… Mari, you make me happy.” Ambrose helped the last man to his tail and gave her his full attention. The other men drifted off into the background as he took hold of her shoulders. “I don’t know how else to say it. I thought I was happy before Ceto happened, before Atlantis sunk…but what I feel for you just…”

He paused, taking a breath.

“It kills me inside. My mother and father met within days and fell in love with each other right then. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I always hoped I would get what they had—and then I met you.”

He laughed almost harshly.

“So innocent and naïve. You saved me when I thought I was passed saving, even when I didn’t deserve it. The Fates never liked me,” he said ruefully, looking away from her. A numbness settled in her chest.

“Ceto never liked me. I didn’t know how much she could…how daunting she could be. She’s in the back of your mind, like a parasite that comes back and never leaves. She sucks at your will, your happiness.”

Mari didn’t know what to say when he stopped talking. There were no words that she could have even thought to say. The numbness in her chest spread throughout her whole body, taking over her arms and legs until she could hardly force herself to breathe. The pain she felt wafting off of him physically hurt her. Her throat closed up like someone was strangling her.

“You’re my happiness, Mari. She’s going to come here, infect me, and suck at my happiness. She’ll rip you away from me and what will I have? Guilt. Shame. Ruined hope. I almost hate that I love you so much because of that. Because I know when she comes here it will be to take you away; there’s a possibility that I’m going to lose you.”

“Ambrose,” she choked out, agony tearing through her. “That won’t—“

“It will. I can feel it. Deimos can feel it.”

He inhaled sharply, jerking out of her arms. “This whole time I thought I wanted someone to love. But now that I do…now that I have you… The thought of Ceto doing something to either one of us is shredding me to pieces. I don’t know if she will take you for helping me escape, take me because she wants to avenge herself, or take both of us and make us watch each other die.

“I have…dreams. Where I watch you and her. And Mari,” he said raggedly, “they are terrible. I’ve spent every moment I had making this the best week of your life because she is coming here. For one of us or both of us.

“I couldn’t tell you—I wanted to, but I didn’t want to scare you. Gods, Mari. I’m so fucking sorry—“

Mari sobbed sharply, grabbing his shoulder. He shook her off of him, but she saw the rapid flutter of his lashes and knew he was choking back the same exact pain that she was feeling.

“I’m so fucking sorry for putting you in danger—I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t want to worry. I wanted—“

“Ambrose, please, stop,” she begged, grasping his arm and refusing to let go. “It will be okay…”

“No,” he roared, rounding on her. “It won’t. I kept this from you. I didn’t get you to protection when I should have.” Ambrose shoved a hand down his face, agony contorting his face. “And now she’s coming. She’s going to get under my skin. She’s going to find some way to hurt you—and me. Mari, I can’t lose you—But Ceto…she’s com—“

“Oh, how sweet,” a low, sultry voice drawled from the corner of the room.

Mari and Ambrose both froze as the vivacious figure stepped from the shadows. Then, slowly, Ambrose placed himself in front of her, protecting her.

She didn’t have to see to know who was making their way towards them. The voice was enough.

Ceto was there.

Something was off.

Different.

Ambrose could feel it from where he stood in front of Mari, could see it in Ceto’s eyes. She still held herself with her usual ease, still smiled with that never-ending sneer, but there was something different about her eyes.

That didn’t stop him from feeling a fear like nothing he had ever known, though. Mari was behind him, but he could feel her trying to look at Ceto.

The minor goddess sauntered forward, hips swaying like they were their own wave. Her black nails tapped on her chin rhythmically as she eyed them, tilting her head to the side.

Black locks slid to the side, drawing a curtain over her shoulder. Wisps of it brushed against her neck.

It wasn’t the hair that kept his gaze on her neck. Bruises so deep they were black surrounded her throat, the imprint of fingers leaving an image in his mind that spoke more than her eyes did.

He narrowed them on her, feeling like something was shifting under the water. Ceto had been harmed enough that her wounds were not fully gone, and yet, here she was. Eying them like the hunter that had just caught her pray.

“That was so heartfelt,” she said with a mocking pout, coming closer until she was only a couple of feet away from them. “Really; it was so warm and sweet. I almost cried for you two—until you started talking about me.”

Ceto peered over Ambrose’s shoulder, a perfectly plucked eye brow arching delicately. “Is this your woman?”

Her voice was so kind that if Ambrose hadn’t known her, hadn’t heard that tone before, he would have thought she was earnestly curious.

Ceto was never curious. If she was interested in something, she found, controlled, and learned about it with the tenaciousness of a rabid shark. As he stared at her narrowly, he could only conclude one thing.

She wasn’t alone.

Her eyes flickered throughout the room as if searching for something, and she never looked at them for more than she had to.

“No answer?” she asked sweetly, circling them. Ambrose spread his arms out, crouching, keeping himself facing her the entire time while caging Mari behind him.

Where was Deimos? The other men? The training room was hardly left empty—soon enough, someone should show up.

Sweet Atlantis, this couldn’t have happened at a better time, he thought. Everyone was preoccupied with readying for the dual and Deimos was out searching for Ceto.

Lost cause now, he thought darkly, willing the akrina to stay hidden as it came to him, already forming a blade. His hands flexed as the invisible material brushed against his hand, fingers wrapping around the handle loosely. He kept his hands as far back as he could, chest forward, hiding his hands while surrounding Mari.

“Well, she’s quite the lovely little thing,” Ceto murmured, flipping her eyes to Ambrose’s. He almost shuddered as her golden pupils bore into his, but forced himself not to. Just like he was forcing himself to hold back from attacking her.

He had to wait. Deimos was going to come—he had to—and then Mari would be covered while Ambrose took care of the psychotic bitch in front of them.

“And…where is her pet?”

He felt Mari tense the same time he did.

“What pet?” he growled, fist tightening around the blade.

“Deimos, I believe. Where is he at?”

Mari’s tail beat against his, panicked breath fanning over his back. “How does she know about him?”

He didn’t answer her.

“Why does that matter? Ceto, what are you doing here?” She was there to kill them. He knew the answer, but if he could stall her long enough that Deimos showed up…

She laughed delightedly, clapping her hands like he was some adorable kid. “Oh, you know! I’ve come to take you back, Ambrose.” She gestured toward him with a bent finger.

Disgust rolled through him. “Do that again and I’ll rip your hand off,” he snarled. Mari touched his shoulder lightly.

That one small contact had a world of emotions flooding him. Panic for Mari, terror for Mari, desperation for Mari. Every emotion he felt over the last week came crashing down on his shoulders in one second.

Rage began to cloud his vision as Ceto’s sharp eyes narrowed. “Either you come with me, or the bitch dies,” she threatened, voice lowering an octave. Her body coiled like a serpent would when it prepared to strike.

“And when he goes with you?” Mari asked.

He looked sharply over his shoulder at her. “Don’t—“

“I’m serious, Ambrose,” she murmured, touching his arm. Her eyes flashed red the second her hand made contact with his skin, and he lost all sensation. Slowly, the life left his limbs. Muscles became lax and the world began to slow.

He stared at her with dawning horror, her face losing all expression, a dispassionate mask.

All it took was one second. Ambrose floated to the floor of the training ground, completely senseless and unable to do anything about it.

Being helpless is serene. You watch, unable to do anything, as the world begins to fall around you. You can’t move, can’t say no. Ambrose had been helpless with Ceto, but now he was free. He should be able to fight back, to protect Mari—except she had somehow stripped his will to move away.

Ambrose felt a terror he had never known before in his life as Mari began to transform, the golden scales flipping like sides of a coin to reveal a black sheath. As the change progressed, black light began to surround Mari.

Ceto backed away, deep lines of horror etching into every inch of her face. Any other time, he would have reveled in such a sight—but not now. Not with Mari’s life on the line.

Besides Ambrose and the other gods, Ceto was the oldest, strongest minor god of their time. Mari had no control over her powers—he doubted she even knew she had them.

Ambrose tried to speak, tried to say something to make her look at him. This couldn’t happen! Not when Ambrose was incapable of saving her—

Mari snarled low in her throat, and a sense of déjà vu shook him.

“Tell me what you would do to him,” Mari demanded, the voice that spoke deeper and more guttural than before. Ambrose shuddered through his fear and watched helplessly as Mari slowed all movement until she was poised in front of Ceto. Her hair flowed behind her serenely, blonde tresses moving like a wave.

“I—He would be dead—“

Mari smiled.

It was sickening. Sharp white teeth flashed and her eyes danced with what Ambrose could only describe as death.

“Wrong answer, bitch.”

Mari knew what she was doing the whole entire time. Unlike last time, she could control what she did and could stop when she wanted. But the thing was, she didn’t want to. As Ceto’s eyes widened and alarm flashed in them, Mari was jacked up—and knew that if she let Ambrose go, he would stop her.

Which was why she let the mean part of her keep Ambrose still. There was no doubt in her mind that she could kill Ceto with a flick of her wrist. Because of her time in Atlantis, she knew the difference between minor and major.

Ceto was minor, and Mari was major.

And that little bitch was going to die.

Mari wasn’t one for violence—at least not always. But as she surged forward and wrapped her hand around Ceto’s thin neck, she felt the adrenaline coursing through her and understood why fights were so appealing.

“I swear to god, this is the last thing you’re going to do—ever come near him again, if I let you live, and you’re going to regret showing our face.”

Ceto was too stunned to react and Mari took the opportunity, lifting her elbow and then yanking down on Ceto’s head, jamming her throat into Mari’s raised arm.

Living with her brothers had taught her a lot; like how to do as much damage as possible to assert dominance. Mari was the only female besides her mother, and that invited too much teasing. Now she was calling on those old skills and she didn’t plan on stopping until the bitch-goddess learned her lesson.

Ceto choked, coughing. Mari tightened her hand in the black hair when she tried to pull away, brought up her bent tail, and then slammed Ceto’s face onto the scales, digging her face against Mari.

Mari felt a sharp pain at her backside and gasped. Ceto had dug her claws into Mari’s back and was ripping the skin away. Ragged breathes escaped her throat as Mari began to feel the shimmer of pure rage surround the minor goddess.

A feral snarl burst from Mari’s chest as the pain receded into a dull roar, replaced by fury. “I’m going to skin you alive!” she shouted, heat beginning to build under her palms.

Mari was too pissed to notice. The heat built into a blinding light, and instinct told her to beat Ceto into the ground—which was exactly what she did, but not before the akrina buzzed in front of her, passing through her hands.

She felt the cold brush of metal against the inside of her wrist before she lashed out, switching the blade and lashing out at Ceto. “All of the times you hurt him?”

The blade sliced through Ceto’s arm. “I’ll make you feel it a hundred times worse.”

Ambrose made a sound from behind her, but she ignored it. Ceto stared at her, then at the blood that was beginning to leak from her arm.

Mari threw the blade aside, her wrath so intense that she wanted to feel every hit, wanted to feel every single crunch of bone. The goddess shrank away from her, face paling, as Mari stalked forward.

“You wanted to come here? To take him from me? Take him from the throne that you stole from him? You’re a fucking bitch,” she snarled, throwing herself at Ceto and wrapping her fist in black hair. Ceto grunted, unleashing the claws.

Mari saw them from the corner of her eye, barely registering that Ceto was only making minimal attempts at fighting back. If Mari had been in her right mind, she would have realized something was wrong sooner, she would have caught onto what Ambrose was desperately trying to make her see.

But she didn’t.

She beat Ceto with her tail, shoving her back while keeping a hold on her hair. As her head stayed in place and her body went another way, a low vibration started to course through the water.

Mari balled up her fist.

“Selfish fucking—“

Something latched onto her first.

And it wasn’t Ceto.

As Mari stared at the goddess, who was straightening her back and pushing her hair behind her ear like nothing had happened, a gleam entered the golden eyes.

“Austrux,” Ceto murmured, bowing her head.

“You kept her entertained, I see.”

Holy—what the fuck. Its voice. Terror slid down her spine, a chill overcoming her as Mari tried to turn her head. The grip tightened around her fist and a gasp of pain escaped her throat.

“I would prefer that you not look at me,” it hissed in her ear, wrenching her arm behind her back. Pain flashed through Mari as Ambrose began to growl.

She tried releasing the hold she had on him, but whatever the creature was behind her was scaring her so badly that she couldn’t. Fear, hot and choking, clogged her throat until she could barely breathe.

Deimos. Where was Deimos? Why couldn’t she free Ambrose? She forced another wave of energy through her body, following her instincts, but nothing happened. Ambrose jerked in the corner of her eye—

The creature. He was keeping Ambrose paralyzed.

“Let me go!” She tried clawing at the hand that held her back, but he only twisted her arm harder. Mari cried out as pain shot through her arm, attacking her shoulder.

“Not so confident now, are you, you little slut?” Ceto laughed in her face, reaching out and trailing her hand down Mari’s face. She saw the flash of Ceto’s claw before it sliced across her cheek.

“I could have easily killed you. The gods are only playing with you. Don’t you know that? Austrux explained it all to me,” she whispered smugly, gliding around Mari. The thing behind her growled. “Care to explain it to her, Austrux?” Golden eyes flipped above Mari’s head.

She saw the shimmer of fear in Ceto’s gaze.

Mari heard a loud thump from behind her, then Ambrose skidded into her view. His body was tense, like he was fighting off pain. Fear implanted itself in her heart, the roots digging in so deep that she was shaking.

He had to come out of it.

Deimos. Where was he?

“You’re nothing but a mortal turned to bait,” the creature snarled in her ear. It sent a shiver of fear down her back, heightening her senses to the near point of pain. God, the way the voice scratched along her ear…

“That tail you have? Means nothing to me. Or them. Or anyone else in Atlantis—and do you know why?” A long, red finger came into her view and she shrunk away from it even as her arm began to throb.

He pulled on her arm and she screamed as white light flashed behind her eyes. “No,” she choked out. As the light began to fade, her throat clogged. Ambrose was staring at her as if she were already dead, his body completely still, eyes not even blinking—as if he were being forced to watch.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She tried calling on whatever had taken over her, on the energy that she could feel pulsing inside of her, but it was like someone had put up a dam, blocking the flow completely.

She grunted with frustration, then shuddered. The finger trailed down her cheek, to her throat. “Why, you poor girl. It doesn’t matter because I’m going to kill you. You have something I want.”

The scratchy, gravelly voice scraped over her neck and ear, disgust rolling through her. “I don’t know what I could possibly—“

“Let me finish,” he snarled, cutting her off by ripping her arm back. Pain exploded behind her eyes once more as the bone literally popped, right in her ear. Mari screamed, unable to stop as the agony ripped through her.

She barely heard the snarl that ripped through the water. Ceto smiled at her sweetly, as if the sound of Mari’s screaming was just what she wanted to hear. Fury mixed with the pain as Mari thought of what she wanted to do to Ceto right then—and the thing behind her.

“Ambrose,” she choked out. “Close your eyes. Just stop—“

“Shut the fuck up! You have him, and I want him. Where is he?”

“Who?” she cried out. “I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

“Deimos,” the thing growled. Mari froze.

“You know where he is, don’t you?” Ceto narrowed her eyes on Mari, who, even as she was panting for breath, refused to speak. What the hell could they want with Deimos? He had been sent to them from the gods—and the people in the room were not gods. At least not the ones that had sent Deimos.

“Talk. If you don’t, your dear little Ambrose is going to watch every single limb be ripped from your body. I’ll devour every piece. I’ve always wanted to try some Atlantean god before,” it mused, that red finger tapping against the beating pulse at her throat.

She still refused to talk. Suddenly, she really didn’t want Deimos to show up, even if it meant saving her and Ambrose. He was an innocent in this—she didn’t know how she knew; she just did. Deimos would be furious—

The doors of the silver room burst open.

A split second later, an enraged roar echoed throughout the room. The sound sent a spine-chilling sensation down her back, like cold fingers dragging across a chalkboard.

Everything happened at once.

Mari was thrown away from the creature, Ambrose lunged at the monster, and Deimos shot into the room like a bull on steroids.

Ceto, though… She stayed back. As Mari fought to stay conscious, she focused on Ceto—and the bitch noticed.

The fight was dim in the back of her mind as Ceto swayed her way towards Mari. No one noticed—not Ambrose, not Deimos, and not the creature they were currently failing at killing.

“I have a theory,” she whispered, bending down to the panting Mari. Her arm was on fire and tears burned her eyes. Ceto half-smiled. “I bet the second you leave the water, the gods’ powers will be void.”

Blind terror struck Mari.

“Why don’t we test this theory? This god-like state of yours was only for adjusting into the oceanic life…it wasn’t permanent. Austrux showed me several cases where this has happened before. The gods kept it hidden, though. Too scared their precious throne would be stolen by some jealous dick who has temporary god powers while they are adjusting.

“But I’ve really been thinking about this.” Her eyes ran down Mari’s body with faint disgust. “You leave Atlantis, Ambrose is here for me, and Austrux get’s Deimos…It’s a win-win. Ready to try this out, baby girl?”

Mischief played in her eyes as energy began to build around them. Mari tried to do something, to move, but her arm prevented her from moving. Darkness ebbed it’s way into her vision and the world began to slow.

All she could see was Ceto…then everything.

Ambrose, Deimos, and the hulking red creature all stopping as Ceto began to laugh hysterically. All three of them moved at once, Ambrose’s face one of the last things she saw.

The pain. The desperation. The complete and ultimate sense of loss that darkened his face.

Mari was blinded by darkness.

The last thing she heard was the tortured sound of a man’s heart being ripped from his chest.

Salty air breezed through her hair and her eyes closed on a sigh. The ocean lapped at her feet, the chill comforting as it tingled her toes. It had been days since she had found herself on the shore with only the knowledge that she was the sole survivor of a shipwreck.

How she had ended up there, Mari didn’t know. But at least she hadn’t been alone.

The beach-goers had left the shore hours ago, leaving her to the peace and quiet of the ocean, letting the thrumming power shift through her body, relaxing her, making her almost boneless.

Gently crashing waves made the sweetest sound. Mari had never been one for water, but ever since she had interrupted a bonfire by “flying out of the water,” as the teenagers had said, she couldn't get enough of it.

She recalled the panic, the fear, when waking up to find twenty or so people surrounding her.

Mari had been completely naked, but one of the girls had been kind enough to loan her a beach towel. It had taken moments for her to adjust to what was happening, to what had happened, but when she’d finally caught her breath enough to ask a question through all of the talking, the boys left the girls to tend to Mari.

She stepped deeper into the water, digging her toes into the cool sand. A sigh escaped her lips as the ocean water rose to her knees.

An ache climbed up her legs, settling around her hips. After waking up and stepping into the water for the first time, the ache had appeared and hadn’t left until she’d gotten out of the water. It wasn’t painful, it didn’t frighten her—it only made the ache spread to her chest.

An empty, desolate ache, one that she felt every time she stepped into the water, every time her eyes closed to rest. Mari hadn’t slept since coming to on the beach, even though she had been given a temporary room at one of the beach houses.

Within hours of settling into the room, and seeing the ocean from the deck as the sun began to set over the water, Mari had no doubt in her mind that she wasn’t leaving.

She remembered Ray, the betrayal, and didn’t plan on going back to that.

Mari had a feeling that the ocean wouldn’t let her…

The water licked at her thighs as the waves pushed at her, then dragged her further in. She didn’t dare to go any farther into the water. Serene fear wrapped around her heart, telling her no. To wait. To stay on shore.

It was so hard to restrain herself, but the glimmer of fear held her back. The sun beat on her face, a subtle warning.

Mari began to back out of the water as the sound of barking dogs reached her ears. She turned around, knowing without actually seeing who it was.

Her brothers and Stumpy.

The people to find her had given her a cellphone to call her parents, who had then called her brothers.

“I’m not coming back there,” she’d said quietly into the phone. “I can’t. Transfer all of my funds and have Joseph and Hayden go to my apartment. I want all of my clothes, jewelry, and papers. All of it. If they can get it while Ray isn’t there, I would appreciate it.”

“Oh, no. What happened? Are you okay? Did the cruise go well?” Her mother’s voice had almost broken her down—-not because of Ray, but because of something else, something deeper. The wreck was in the back of her mind, but the emotional roller coaster she was on had yet to land.

“It sank. I’m okay, but I just…Don’t want to leave here. Ray and I are over.”

Why didn’t she care? Why wasn’t her heart breaking? She told her mother without a hitch in her voice or a pang in her heart.

Ray had been her world. They had been together for years, she had planned on marrying him, and they were going to have kids. He had cheated on her, and she…what? Didn’t care? At all? The ache in her chest came back full force, and again, not because of Ray.

Something was wrong with her. Ray had been brunette and brown-eyed, her dream man. She had loved the darkness in his skin, the way his eyes caught the light with yellow undertones. But when she closed her eyes, all she saw was blue. Blue eyes with flecks of silver and midnight black hair falling in waves down a strong, muscular jaw.

The hair led to thick shoulders, bigger and stronger than Ray’s. Images of thick, caring arms surrounded her head, giving her not only a flash of warmth, but one of pain. Where was that coming from? Why did she feel that?

She was jerked out of her thoughts when a rough tongue licked her arm. Mari couldn’t help but laugh as she watched Stumpy flail around in the water that was much too deep for him to touch ground in.

“Mari!”

Hayden’s voice brought a sense of relief that she hadn’t felt in days. Mari ran out of the water, picking up her knees as Stumpy followed after her. The golden Labrador was sopping wet when they made it to her brothers.

Hayden and Joseph could have been twins had they been born at the same time. As it was, though, Hayden was the oldest out of them all. Both of her brothers had bleach blonde hair. It had been a lighter brown when they were younger, but after all the hours they spent outside, it had long ago turned white from all of the exposure. They were both tall, but Joseph was lean where Hayden was buff. Besides the build, their eyes were the only thing left that set them apart. Joseph had Mari’s silvery eyes and Hayden had dark, forest green eyes that were often mistaken as hazel.

As Hayden wrapped her up in a hug, she was grateful for it. The emptiness in her chest was spreading throughout her body, and her brothers would serve as a good enough distraction from it.

“How was the flight?” she asked, pulling back only to be dragged into Joseph’s arms. He squeezed her tightly.

“Forget the flight. Are you alright? We couldn’t get a hold of you through that number you called us from so we had no idea what was going on. All mom gave us was what beach you were at. We searched for you for the last hour,” Joseph grumbled, pulling back.

“I’m sorry. But yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He peered at her face, and Hayden joined in.

“You don’t look fine.” Hayden ruffled her hair, pulling her out of Josephs hug and then wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Mom and dad called and let us know that they got the condo ready for you. All you have to do is sign the papers and you're ready. Are you sure you want to stay here?”

Mari nodded, looking back at the ocean. Longing settled in her chest. “I’m sure.”

She didn’t doubt that her parents had already taken care of the condo. They were well known for all of the charity and rescues they did, and they’d pulled strings like this before. All it took for them was a couple hours.

“Ray wasn’t there when we went to the apartment,” Joseph said, a low note entering his voice. “What happened? Are you guys over?”

Mari nodded again.

“I never liked him,” Hayden grunted. “That bastard was never good enough for you. What did he do? It couldn’t have been something you did. All you ever did was stick up for that piece of shit.”

She shrugged. “He sent me on a couples cruise alone so he could cheat on me." Blunt. Indifferent. Everything she felt towards the whole thing. "It doesn’t matter. I’m not upset over it, so you shouldn’t be either.”

The brothers walked in silence with her. She was glad that they took her word for it and didn't press.

Hayden stopped abruptly. “Mom and Dad…they said the ship sank. How did it…I’m confused. I don’t know what to say.”

Mari bit her lip as she tried to think back to what happened—and sighed when nothing came up except a pang in her chest. She rubbed at the spot above her heart, shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened. I found out he was cheating, the boat began to sink, and then I ‘flew out of the water’ and crashed a bon-fire.”

Joseph stared at her. “Are you for real?”

She nodded.

“Jesus… Thank god you’re alive." No one in their family had ever been good at expressing their emotions, so when that's all she got out of him, she was thankful. Still, she wasn't that lucky. "Now, listen. We’re going to take you to the condo, and then we’re going on a jog. It'll help clear your mind."

"See, I'm fine with going to the condo...but going on a run? I'm not so sure about." Honestly, all she wanted to do was sit by the ocean and enjoy the lull it created.

“You never were one for running. Mari.” Hayden grabbed her shoulders and made her face him as his expression turned completely serious. “We are like pure bred pit bulls. Strong. Dangerous. Armed. And toned so well that even Egyptian kings would be jealous of how well-bred we are without being inbred. Why must you deny your genes?”

She groaned. “Hayden—“

He dropped her shoulders. “Nope. I get it. You're too good for your family now that you've survived a shipwreck. I toooootally get it.”

Mari stared at him with disbelief. “That's ridiculous—"

“I'm done!” Then he stalked way from her, Joseph following behind. Stumpy barked at her and shook his dripping coat, splattering her with wet-dog water, and then trotted after her brothers.

“Well, there's that,” she muttered, dragging her feet in the hot sand as she caught up to them.

Her parents flew in only hours later, after the rent for the condo had been paid and her brothers had helped her move in all of the things they had brought. Seven large cardboard boxes of clothing, millions of little trinkets she had collected, and all of the pictures of their family. Anything having to do with Ray was left behind—and thank god for that.

Mari wasn’t expecting anyone, so when a knock on her door echoed throughout the cozy condo, she cast a confused look at her brothers, who only shrugged and continued to bitch at each other about the newest game with the Packers.

She pulled open the door and then squealed with shock. Her mother, just as tall and as thin as Mari with big green eyes and long blonde hair, flew into the house and attacked her.

“Mom!” she gasped as the woman’s small arms wrapped around Mari so tightly she lost all the breath in her chest.

“Oh, Mari—We tried telling you about him, we tried to warn you! Why couldn’t you have listened to us?” she hissed as she patted Mari down through her tears, like she was checking for injuries.

She backed away from her mom a little, feeling overwhelmed.

Mari’s father stepped into the house. His looming figure cast a dark, dangerous shadow into the room and Mari almost backed away from him. He was, perhaps, one of the most frightening men she had ever met in her life—but at least he loved her.

She flinched as a sharp pinch stole her breath. There were much more dangerous creatures out there, much worse than her father…and not the mortal kind.

The thought made her pale.

What was going on with her?

“You say the word, and he’ll never bother you again,” her dad grunted. Savannah, her mother, let her father hug Mari. She leaned into his chest, breathing in the fresh, dark scent that smelled like pinewood, and had since she could remember.

“I don’t care, really. Why did you come here?” She pulled out of her father’s embrace and looked between her parents. Their faces were tanned because of all the sun and she suspected they were still in the middle of the hurricane recovery project in Hawaii. "I had to come see you. God, I can’t believe we weren't notified sooner...or at least seen something on the news… Honey, how did you make it out alive?”

“She 'flew out of the water’,” Joseph parroted, sticking his hand in her hair and then ruffling it. Her mom looked at Mari in disbelief.

“You what?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. She led her parents into the living room, which was completely empty. The condo was nice and airy, with all hundred or so windows thrown open. The salty air from the ocean was invading the house, giving it a sense of peace that rattled her.

This wasn’t right. It was beautiful, exactly what she wanted, but it wasn’t right. Ocean blue eyes flashed in her mind, stealing her breath. Her heart rate quickened.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Surely you remember the ship sinking? How you got to shore—on the opposite side of where it crashed?” Her mother choked on emotion and grabbed Mari by the shoulders, dragging her to her chest.

The weirdness of what had happened was lost on her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what had happened. She could feel the knowledge bubbling inside of her mind. The black haired man she kept seeing in her mind—the gorgeous, mouthwatering man that made her heart pound every time she thought of him. How was he connected, this man that she had never met before in her life, to what she was feeling? This numbness? This lack of caring?

She pat her mother’s back as her father eyed her warily. “I don’t know,” she mouthed, trying to pull out of her mother’s embrace.

He nodded shortly and she breathed a sigh of release. At least he wasn’t going to question her.

“We love you so much, Mari. I’m so ashamed of myself—my darling daughter who almost—who almost—“ Her mom stopped herself and inhaled sharply, obviously trying to keep tears at bay.

“Mom. I’m fine. I don’t know exactly what happened—but I’m fine. Why didn’t you stay in Hawaii? They need your help more than I do.”

Her mother pulled back with a gasp. “Never.” She drew Mari in for another hug. “You’re my daughter—you’ll always come first.”

She nodded awkwardly, looking at her brothers and father for help.

“We got into town about an hour ago and picked up some groceries," her mom continued.

Mari nodded gratefully, realizing that she actually was hungry. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in days.

“We’ll all grab the groceries; you sit down and rest.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief as they cleared the house and walked to the screen door, pulling it open. She had the most beautiful view of the ocean. The waves ate at the sand greedily, bringing a smile to her face—right until a shadow moved in the corner of her eye.

Mari reared back.

“Mari, it’s me! Shh!”

Her heart stopped in her chest a second before confusion rolled through her. “Ray?”

Large, tropical leaves rustled as he stepped out of the brush, hands held up defensively. “Be quiet. Listen—“

“What the hell,” she hissed, storming down the stairs. “What the hell.”

“I didn’t know what to fucking do,” he said raggedly, taking her by the shoulders. Her skin heated, but not with desire. Disgust rolled through her. Those hands had been on another woman while he was in a relationship with her. “The voicemail—Oh, god. Mari I heard it all—I heard the sinking and the screaming. It was so fucking loud. I never planned on that—“

“Of course you didn’t,” she snapped. “You planned on getting the fuck of your life while your girlfriend was on a cruise.”

He paled. “I didn't think you would remember. I know you saw the emails, but it wasn't what it looked like."

“I’m not stupid, Ray. You should have just stayed with Bailey. How did you even find me here?”

His face turned a dark shade of purple, and she would have been worried—if she had cared at all. Mari laughed harshly. “Oh, wait. You’re stalking me now?”

“I saw your brothers outside of our apartment the other day—-so I followed them.”

“You followed my brothers?” she asked, aghast. “What the hell is wrong with you? Ray, go home. Just go. Go home to Bailey and get out of my life. I’m so done, you don’t even know—“

Fear flashed in his eyes and Mari backed away. When he was scared, he was unpredictable. “No, Mari. You have to come back—“

She shook her head. “Go, Ray. I don’t want you here—“

He lunged at her, slapping a thin hand over her mouth and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Mari, please,” he whispered raggedly. Hot, rank breath brushed over her ear. She jerked, kicking back at him.

“Let go of me!” she growled, voice muffled by his hand. He pulled her body against his and she could have vomited. How could she have ever wanted him? He smelled like ass, he had the personality of a creep down-pat, and he honestly did have a pencil dick. Ambrose was so much better than Ray in every single—

Ambrose?

The weight was suddenly lifted off her back and she exhaled, balling her fist up and ready to—

“Touch her again, and you die.”

Ray hadn’t said that. Mari hadn’t said that. Her parents weren’t anywhere near her. So who—

She whipped around and her heart instantly crashed in her chest. Then fell to her stomach and came right back up her throat. The man…his eyes. His voice. His body. Everything about him struck her as familiar. As hers.

He had Ray pressed against the wall with his hand wrapped around his throat, and she could have sworn he was snarling like a rabid animal. Cool fingers of desire danced down her back, their touch leaving a fiery trail. He had on dark jeans that fit his hips perfectly, but that was it. No shirt and no shoes. Black hair with a lone blue streak fell around his face so sexily it made her drool, and those eyes…they weren’t even looking at her, yet they seared her.

“Who the hell are you?” Ray demanded, kicking his feet out. Even though he was held a foot off the ground and his eyes were beginning to bug, he didn’t give up.

“Her lover. And you?” The lips that smiled were full and perfect, revealing sharp white teeth. Instead of running the other direction in fear, Mari took a step forward, completely entranced. Ray was pushed to the back of her mind and she forgot about everything except the man in front of her.

She knew him—but from where?

“Her boyfriend," he choked out. Mari barely heard a word he said because she was too focused on…on Ambrose.

This was Ambrose.

She frowned, struggling as her mind failed to come up with where she knew him from. He loved her, her mind whispered distantly. Atlantis.

Ambrose turned his gaze towards her, and the look in his eyes made her heart fall to the bottom of her feet. She knew him—

In a rush, everything came back.

Waking up in the cave. Finding Ambrose. Being turned into a mermaid. F-Inn. The Octopians. Everything up until Ceto leering at her as Mari’s world went black, Ambrose’s pained screams dying off in her ear.

Tears instantly flooded her eyes.

“Oh, my god,” she choked out, throwing herself at him. “I don’t—I don't know how this happened—Ambrose, I missed you,” she breathed, pressing her face against his shoulder, breathing in his mesmerizing scent, taking comfort in the heat that wafted off of him in waves.

“Mari,” he said softly. “Do you want this son of a bitch dead?”

She shook her head against him, wrapping her arms around his waist as tight as she could. God, what would have happened if she never remembered him? She couldn’t even think about it. It was too painful.

“No? He hurt you; he dared to lay a hand on you…Mari, do not lie to me. Do you want him to die?”

She hated Ray with a passion, but she didn’t want a dead man on her hands. There was something different between bitch-goddesses and humans that made her feel pity for the weaker ones. Plus, her dad had raised her better than to kill a person. Fish, on the other hand…

“I just want you to hold me,” she whispered. In an instant, Ambrose had dropped Ray to the ground and wrapped his arms around her. At first she thought he wasn’t as affected as she was, but then she felt the tremor running through his arms.

“How did you find me? What happened to Ceto? Did you kill that red thing? Oh my god, is Deimos okay?”

“Mari,” Ambrose murmured, pressing his face into her hair and holding her even tighter, as if he never wanted to let go of her again. “Be quiet for two seconds…I need to know you’re okay—Gods, the past week has been torture. My love…”

She almost sobbed at the tone in his voice. It was so reverent, so grateful. He thread a hand into her hair and pulled her head back. Mari stared into his eyes as his head lowered.

She met him half-way, not caring a single bit that Ray was at their feet, gasping for breath.

Their lips crashed in a collision full of devotion, love, dying fear, and passion. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, barely able to breath. “I love you,” she breathed around their kiss, clutching him.

He pulled back, gazing into her eyes. The oceanic depths swirled with emotion so intense it would have brought her to her knees had he not been holding onto her.

“I love you, Mari.” Her heart stopped at the words, at the way he said them. “Forever. Come back to Atlantis with me and rule—“

"But I don’t have a tail anymore...”

“The fuck,” Ray grunted, staring up at them from the floor. "You're a bunch of freaks."

Ambrose growled, clenching his fist. “I might skin him alive.”

Mari couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her throat.

“Mari, I thought I told you to—“ Before the words were even out of her mom’s mouth, Mari’s face turned bright red. So bright, in fact, that Ambrose took notice of her ears and gently touched them, smiling.

“She better be getting ready for that run! We’re leaving in—“ Stephen and Hayden stopped dead behind her mother, who was staring between Ambrose and Mari as if they had grown two heads.

The brother’s jaws dropped.

And then came Dad…

“Mari,” he said slowly as he walked up behind the brothers. His gaze flicked over to Ray, who was paling like a ghost—which he would probably be in less than a minute, if the look in her brother’s eyes said anything.

“Who is your…friend?” her mom asked thinly, bringing a hand to her temple. Her dazed eyes looked to her father for help.

Mari swallowed down the nerves, realizing that Ambrose probably had it a hundred times worse. She looked at him, expecting him to be completely comatose in the face of her family like everyone normally was, and she almost squeaked with surprised.

He dropped his arms from around her, leaving only a hand at the small of her back, and stepped forward. “Ambrose Katariglos.” He shook her stunned mom’s hand and then her dad's. The brothers gave him only a curt nod before they started down the porch steps, making their way toward Ray.

They were going to kill him. That’s the only thing Mari could think while watching her brothers. And strangely, she didn't care.

“Savannah Sampson,” her mom murmured. She couldn’t seem to take her gaze off of Ambrose, and Mari understood why completely.

“Jacob Sampson,” her father said, voice strong in the face of the only man who had ever topped him in height. Ambrose bowed his head to both of them before turning to Mari.

“We need to talk.”

“Oh, yes we do!” her mom hissed, apparently snapping out of her stupor.

Mari bit her lip, unable to look away from Ambrose. “I think he means just us...”

Her mom's eyes snapped fire at Mari, and she pressed herself closer to Ambrose for protection. “I want answers. Now. Get inside the house, Mari.” She stabbed her finger back at the door, lips pressed firmly.

“Mom, I’m not a teenager that you can—"

"Please humor me," she said dryly, before turning on her heel and retreating into the house. "Think we’re in trouble?” Ambrose whispered.

She paused at the sound of fists hitting flesh. "Probably not as much as Ray. Either way, we need to hurry so I can see Deimos.”

Ambrose growled low in his throat. “Did you not miss me at all?”

“Of course I did! When I realized who you were...All of it came back.”

He froze, then walked over to her, taking her arm in his hand gently. “Gods, when I saw that creature...Never again, Mari.” His eyes flipped to hers. “Never again will you paralyze me like that. I was so helpless—couldn’t call for help, couldn’t save you...I couldn’t do anything. You are to never do that again...”

She nodded silently, looking at her hands. Mari never wanted to do that again. “What happened—”

Her mom burst into the kitchen, eyes blazing, finger raised for pointing. “We’ll talk about this later,” Ambrose said into her ear quietly, eyeing her mom wearily.

“Good idea,” she whispered back as her mother and father strode into the kitchen.

Her father leaned against the wall, arms over his chest, as her mom took the stage. “Now, who are you, and how do you know my daughter.”

She cast a quick glance at Ambrose, then looked at her parents. How did she tell them that he was her mermaid lover without being thrown into an asylum?

Ambrose answered for her. “A very good friend. We met through the cruise." That technically wasn't a lie. The way his hand curled around her hip belied his words. "Very good friends" her ass.

Mari wanted to hide when her mom's mouth thinned. Apparently, she didn't believe that either. Her father looked at Mari with a raised brow.

“Now, Mari. We love you. But you do realize you barely know this man, and you've just got out of a relationship…”

“You don’t know what Ambrose and I went through together.” And she definitely never would.

Her mom waved a hand. "I'm just trying to warn you against moving too fast—so that neither of you get hurt."

Mari closed her eyes and tried to breathe calmly. If only she could explain what had happened to them without sounding like she was having a psychotic break.

She quickly looked at Ambrose and was shocked, yet pleased, to see that he was holding up fine. His face was settled into an easy smile and nothing her mother said seemed to affect him.

“Ma’am,” he said. "With all due respect, after everything Mari and I went through, I don't think I would qualify this as a rebound relationship. And even if it is, I still want to know where it can go." Mari could have sworn there was a little brown stuck to his nose, that little ass kisser.

Her mom was silent, then nodded. Her father stayed against the wall, smiling.

“We need to get you to the ocean as soon as we can, but I want to prepare you.” Later, when everyone had a chance to relax, Ambrose and Mari finally had a moment to themselves.

“Prepare me for what?” she asked, eyes wide. He slid open the sliding glass doors that faced the shore, then walked with her to the edge of the porch.

He took hold of her face gently. The look in his eyes as he stared down at her took her breath away.

“I am not,” he said lowly, “allowing you to stay here. Your family may love you, but I need you. And you need Atlantis. I do not mind visits—I have the power to allow you to meet with them, but when the time permits it. You are going to be my queen. By the time we are fully submerged into the water, your body will have adjusted into the natural state it was meant to be.

“The gods were gracious enough to let me know that the minor god and major god confusion was only your body getting used to the new circumstances. That means no more weird possessions, no more ‘I’m Mari and I’m going to kill everyone’ tirades, and no more paralyzing me. And, more importantly, no more mood swings. You'll find your old self coming back soon, and you won't have any unpredictable powers or emotional outbursts anymore."

He paused as he let his words sink in. Thank Lord, she thought. Now that she looked back on it, she was appalled at how child-like she'd been. Hopefully in a few years, she'd be able to look back and laugh at about it. Seriously, who in the right mind would mull over whether fish farted or not?

“I love you. So that means that until I say otherwise—which will be never— you will be in my bed, naked and ready for me. I will do my duties as king, and you will do yours as my mate. I lost you once—and I intend to have my way with you until I’m fully convinced that I will never lose you again.”

Mari had a feeling that she wasn’t going to mind that part of his list of demands. She sort of enjoyed how demanding he was over her.

Before she got too bothered to say anything, she asked, "What happened to H'Sai, Ceto, and that...that thing that attacked me?"

“H’Sai is locked up as a traitor for allowing Ceto and that creature into the city with the intent to harm. Both Ceto and that red thing escaped. The second you disappeared, Deimos flashed from the room.”

“So you mean they are still out there?” she asked, worrying her lip. Were they always going to be plagued by Ceto? Would she not ever stop?

Ambrose nodded, caressing her cheek. His eyes were as sincere as his voice when he spoke. “They are. But because of what happened to you, the gods conceded to make a special barrier. They had no clue the creature existed before now, but they are doing everything they can to protect Atlantis.”

Relief crashed through her. “Thank God…” A thought struck her. "That thing broke my arm, but it's sort of...not broken right now."

"You might not have a tail right now, but you're still an Atlantean. You must have healed before coming to."

"Those people on the beach really had a show, then," she muttered, rubbing her arm.

“Also. About your parents. I’m going to take you back tonight to Atlantis, flash them home, and they will forget about this whole incident.”

“But—“

“Wait for me to finish, Mari,” he said admonishingly. She closed her mouth, glaring at him.

Ambrose only smiled. “Instead of remembering today, they are going to think that you came home safely from the cruise, broke up with that piece of shit on the deck, and moved to the beach, where you met me. Any time you wish to visit your parents or brothers, you will do it here. I can’t keep you away from the water and risk losing you. If you change and someone sees you…”

He trailed off, swallowing. “I refuse to lose you, Mari.”

She kissed his chest softly, heart thundering. “And I, you.”

“Tonight we will leave,” he said as he crushed her against his chest. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart under her ear, and she smiled.

Then frowned.

“Wait—how do I have legs still?”

“You went into the ocean almost every day. Your body sensed your need to remain human. Every time you touched the ocean or went near it, you saved yourself from dehydrating.”

“But…how did you know?”

“How do you think I found you? I could sense you. Every time you left the ocean, the connection was cut off. But you kept coming back. There is literally nothing that will keep us a part,” he whispered, putting his hand at the back of her neck and pulling her face to his.

“Nothing, Mari. Not land, not your family, not our enemies. Not even death. Wherever you go, I will follow you. I wouldn’t be able to function without that damn finger stabbing my chest every time you get mad. I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep at night without holding you in my arms, knowing you’re safe. I wouldn’t be able to live without you in my life.”

Her eyes stung. For once, he was doing all the talking, and she was lucky—she doubted she could speak with how choked up he was making her. “Oh, Ambrose…”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he growled.

Before she could speak, he bent down and captured her lips with his.

As tendrils of desire curled throughout her body, Mari knew she would never leave Ambrose. He had taken her heart captive, and there was no one, and nothing, that could separate them.

Also by D. K. Combs

Published Works

The Highlander’s touch

The Bet

Her Assassin

Coming Soon

Atlantis: The Warrior’s End

The Highlander’s Kiss

Eternal Chaos

About the Author

D.K. Combs is an author of erotica, historical, paranormal, and contemporary romance. She currently resides in the dessert heat of Nevada with her supportive husband, son, and of course, her German Shepherds.

Combs began writing long before the exposition of her most famous title to date, The Highlander's Touch. Writing has always been her passion and creating creatures with no true name and the women that fall for them is what she considers a great way to live. When not writing, Combs is reading. Her idea of heaven is a whole day of nothing and baby snuggles.

For more information...

amazon.com/author/dkcombs

authordkcombs@gmail.com

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