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I stalk across the pier, searing a path toward that grin. A damp breeze stirs the hood of my robe and combs through my hair, which I have cinched against my nape tonight. I want the mane out of the way. Nothing is allowed to obstruct my view of her.

As my shadow pours across the siren’s back, her voice swims in the air. “What took you so long?”

I squat behind Cove. My thighs encase her frame like a shell as I rest my chin on her shoulder. My words are low, a simmering broth of peaceful and feral. “What are you smiling at?”

“You, first.”

“I wanted to make certain the den was secure.” My arms snake around her middle and draw her spine into my torso. “It is safe now.”

Cove’s breath rushes from her lips. “Elixir, that’s wonderful!”

It is. The restoration has seeped the toxins from my den, leaving behind only lush ferns, the whiff of freshwater, and the brews I’ve salvaged. And while this includes fewer cures than poisons, I’m not so redeemed that I’ve become an imbecile, nor wholly merciful. Poisons and venom serve purposes against those who would threaten my kin. Despite the restoration, I’m not about to yield that power.

I will nevernotbe a vicious Fae. I just happen to be one who wields dark magic to protect what is mine—and to whom I belong.

Cove rests her arms over my own. She wants to turn, seal our mouths together, and then ask many questions.

I clutch my lady tighter, preventing her from doing so. “Not yet. Tell me.”

“I was watching him.” She swings an arm toward the river, which blurs before my vision can access it. Yet I hear the swish of a serpent. Lotus is rippling around Cove’s calves and threading around her toes, the snake’s play infectious and drawing chuckles from the siren.

My mouth presses into her shoulder, to keep from smirking. The flap of dorsal fins and stingers multiply from nearby. Nevertheless, this little viper is scarcely intimidated by the river dwellers surging through The Tides.

I remember this spectacle well from my youth. Jade river sharks, speckled stingrays with illuminated tails, and metallic dolphins are slicing across the depths. This flux, which abuts The Twisted Canals, is neutral amongst the fauna. Piranha are flitting through the underwater reeds and past rocks barnacled in vermillion moss. Schools of fish are sailing on the outskirts, their scales reflecting gradients of blues and greens.

Cove wiggles her submerged toes and laughs as Lotus cords around her feet. However, the passing fleet is too much of a temptation. Her mirth thins into a sigh when her companion weaves from the pier and slithers into the wild procession.

She squirms, preparing to get up and dive in after the snake. My mouth traces her rounded ear, stalling her. “We’ve been over this.”

“Not lately,” Cove objects.

“Then I shall recap. Trust me as you have before: Do not worry.”

“How many times will it take before you realize—”

“That telling you what to do won’t work? I learned that lesson ages ago.”

“You have an entire pit of serpents taking up residence in your den,” she frets. “Brood and grunt as much as you want, but you would protect any of them, same as I would. Worry comes with the territory, especially when your companion is a fish out of water.

“Well, not a fish per se. But a human reptile is kind of vulnerable around here.” Cove gestures toward the river. “Any of these dwellers could hurt him.”

“They will not. You know as much.”

The fauna are territorial, and they have appetites, but they do not harm one another in The Tides. Even if they did, I would reach Lotus before a shark would.

But just in case, I sketch my fingers along the river’s surface, which forms a wall of water around the snake. Although my reserves are limited until the iron drains, I have enough magic for this small act.

Cove sees what I’ve done and sags into me. “Thank you.”

“No,” I warn against her throat. “Never do that.”

“Ah, I forgot for a second. Never thank a Fae.”

“Never assume I expect gratitude. For you, I would do anything. It’s not a favor, it’s a…” My mind wrestles with itself, searching for the right word. “It is a certainty.”

A destiny. An inevitability.

Whatever I do, she will never owe me for it. Not even with words.