Page 50 of A Warrior's Heart

“I like where we are.” I traced the curve of his neck with the tip of my finger.

“Troy.” His tone held a warning.

“Fine.” I sighed and drifted backward a bit, uncurling my tail from his.

Though I complained, deep down, I appreciated Malik stopping. Kissing was one thing. But I didn’t think I was ready to go any further. Not yet anyway.

As we swam to the surface, his hand found mine. I looked at him, and his expression gave nothing away. He appeared stoic. Serious. And so handsome. I smiled and turned my face to the sun as we broke through the water.

Lorcan and Alek sat on the sandy beach, their legs submerged in the water as the tide rolled in around them. Alek fed Lorcan a cube of cheese before stealing a kiss.

The seer’s words echoed in my head. I would play an important role in Lorcan’s victory.

What if I made the wrong choice? What if I was the reason the mission failed? Thatwefailed?

“You need to eat,” Malik said, pulling me from my worrisome thoughts. He smiled when I met his stare. “Perhaps there’s something sweet aboard.”

“Is this a trap to lure me onto the ship?”

His lips twitched.

I narrowed my eyes and bumped his arm with my shoulder. He then swept me up into his arms and carried me from the water, both of us back to our human forms.

We didn’t speak of the kiss as we boarded the ship. We didn’t speak of it as Nereus handed us cups of water that I downed in a few large gulps. And we didn’t speak of it as we ate with the other members of our party.

The tender glances we exchanged told me that whatever unspoken thing had happened between us below the waves would change everything now.

Chapter Eleven

Malik

“Tell me again,” Fletcher said as we sat on the deck of the Crimson Night later that evening.

Our bellies were full of fish and fruit from the island, and the stars shone overhead. The ship was docked.

“A city long since lost to the depths,” Lorcan said, repeating the prophecy. “Temples lay in ruin and the buildings have been claimed by the sea. A graveyard of the dead. In the dark water, deep within the ruins, a flash of golden light. It sits in the hand of the one who shook the earth.”

“A lost city,” Fletcher said under his breath, fingers pressed to the sides of his jaw. I could see his mind at work. “Many stories speak of cities in the sea. Some of which refer to your home in Avalontis. There are others about sirens and covens of sea witches. But the wording…” He shook his head and sat up straighter. “It hints that the city wasn’t originally in the sea. It was lost to it.”

Conversation continued as I moved my attention to Troy. His arms hugged his knees and a blanket was draped over his thin shoulders.

Heat ruled the island during the day, yet at night, the air grew colder. I scooted closer to him, and he leaned against my arm. I brushed my lips across his temple. The action was automatic, without thought.

Lorcan caught my eye over the top of Troy’s head and smiled. For years, the young prince had sensed something between Troy and I. And for years, I had denied my feelings.

I couldn’t deny them anymore. Not with the memory of Troy’s lips on mine, the memory of his taste. He was young, immature at times, impulsive, and moody. But he was also brave. Intelligent. Beautiful.

“Which stories of sea cities involve Poseidon?” Troy asked.

Fletcher thought a moment. “One comes to mind. Legend has it that many years ago, Poseidon fell in love with a human woman and created an entire island for her. He built a large palace for her on the tallest hill and surrounded it with springs that ran both cold and hot water. They had ten sons and divided the island so that each son could rule a section of it. Other humans were invited to live there. The population grew over time and the island thrived with engineers, architects, and artists of all kinds. The island was called Atlantis. And it was a paradise.”

“What happened to this paradise?” Nereus asked, chewing on a dried sliver of meat.

Shar watched the young warrior before moving his eyes to Fletcher. Waiting, just as we all were.

“Well, there are different versions of the story,” Fletcher answered, unaffected by the attention upon him. After years of performing in the tavern, he was used to it. “One says that a plague reached the island, killing everyone apart from Poseidon. Another says that Atlantis was attacked by outsiders who had heard of the wealth there. It was destroyed. And then there’s the third version. In it, the citizens of the island became greedy with all their riches and luxury. They became corrupted and began to turn on each other, demanding more wealth. More pleasure. As punishment for their greed, Poseidon called upon an earthquake and destroyed the island himself. It then sank into the sea.”

“An earthquake?” Kellan asked. “I thought Poseidon was the god of the sea, not land.”