Page 47 of A Sea of Vows and Silence (The Naiads of Juile #3)
I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, swiping all the rogue strands to one side. “Drones don’t cordae .” I let the end of the sentence trail away, suddenly unable to look anywhere but the corner of the bed.
She cocked her head, a twinge of expectancy sharpening her gaze. “Don’t or can’t ?”
“Listen.” I let all my air out in a heavy gust. “I was trying to get under your skin when I brought it up before. When I came here, I’d spent the last decade bathed in rock-dust and filth, only emerging when Thaan needed all hands to sack a mountain colony.
And in a matter of days, I was suddenly locked in a Venusian room with a beautiful siren.
I knew you were worried and upset, so I was trying to distract you.
Tease you. Aim your attention somewhere else. ”
“Drones can cordae,” she said, pushing up to her knees, forcing herself within my line of sight.
I pressed my teeth together, sighing. “Drones can’t cordae with humans, sirens, plants, land, water, or any living creature the way other Naiads can.”
Selena angled her cheek to the side, though she gazed at me straight on. “But?”
“We can’t cordae . Period. There’s no but.” I licked my lower lip. “There’s an and .”
She crossed her arms. “Okay, then . And?”
“ Cordaed Naiads become repulsed at sharing any partner other than their cordae . But something about drones turns that repulsion off.”
Selena’s eyes narrowed at hearing information she already knew. “Where’s the and ?”
“And,” I said, “historically, drones only serve Videres or hive heirs after they’d lost a mate. Never before they find one.”
Her mouth twitched, words and questions sparking in her mind. “ Served meaning…”
“Yes.”
She hesitated. “Because...”
“Because if a drone takes a Naiad, any Naiad, before they have the chance to cordae , then they never will. With anyone. Ever.”
She shifted uncomfortably. Her blue gaze lowered, and I stood. Straightened. Counted the passing seconds in my mind, letting her absorb the words completely.
“I don’t see why that matters,” she finally said. But the confidence in her voice wavered, thin and unsure.
I swallowed, the feeling of it thick in my throat.
“It matters because I know it’s important to you.
Cordaeing someday. But it’s something I can never give you.
” She didn't respond. I found my shirt rumpled on the floor and tugged it over my head, too ashamed to look at her. “I know that’s what you want. Some Naiad heir to sweep you off your feet and give you that special bond of deep connection of, you know—” My hand waved in the air, unable to conjure the right words. “Whatever it is a corda-cruor does.”
I dared a glance at her. Thick with glossy shine, her eyes darted the instant they met mine.
I froze slowly. Something like panic sliced through my thoughts.
But something calm did as well. The slow flood of resignation.
Every question she’d ever left suspended in my mind suddenly dropped to the floor, their strings cut by the shears of her unveiled disappointment.
And every blurry line I’d crossed in the past few weeks sharpened into clearly defined borders.
I wondered how deep the river of envy could flow from a man.
Mine seemed to seep from the inside out.
Shallow in a moment’s reflection. Tectonic as it rushed over my shoulders, threatening to drag me down.
That any Naiad or human could give her what she wanted.
But all I’d do was take her chance for it away.
Selena pulled her knees up, adding to that barrier between us, and slid a covert finger across her cheek. It had been years since I’d felt the ache of a tortured heart.
What could have been—layered under what will never be.
I swallowed it down, smiling softly. “I know I’m not the best kisser, but I didn’t think I was that bad.”
“Will you please come back?” she whispered. A shiver tore through her, though she tried to hide it, clenching her teeth and straining her shoulders.
I told myself she’d been through enough tonight. Drinking. Torture. A dalliance with death.
I told myself she was healing.
She was exhausted. Had shared a fight with her sister. Had set eyes on Perpetuum and walked away .
I told myself it was too big of a decision to ask her to make in one moment. That she needed distance. A chance to choose on her own, without me watching her.
I told myself that every bit of disappointment hooking its barbs into my heart was selfish.
I buried them under that riverbed of envy, deep enough I hoped not to find them again.
Left them layered under muck and water and the promise that time would make me forget.
Then I climbed back in beside her, lifting my arm so she could curl under it, and tucked her in close.
But not so close enough to see through the armor of my smile.
Too soon from now, Thaan would knock. I’d slip away, tucking my tail between my legs and returning to another decade of mountain dust strung with gold veins. But tonight…
Her hair smelled of waterlilies as I dropped a kiss onto her forehead. Smooth, clean, citrusy.
“Sleep, heiress,” I said.
Selena stared at the hollow of my throat. The candle whispered, flickering as though a draft floated through the room. I watched the shadows dance under her cheekbones. She swallowed, deep in thought, though she didn’t say a word. Every few minutes, her fingers roamed in place against my chest.
She lasted longer than I would have guessed. Eventually, she closed her eyes and didn’t open them.
I know because I waited for what felt like hours. Just in case they did.