Page 29

The sun was setting. The fingers of darkness blended into the cast of the sun as if they were lovers. Being out here all day left Narsus with an odd feeling in his gut. Hadn’t Lune said he’d known the general area? Shouldn’t he have been back by now?

The pink sky was fading into pale purples and dark blues.

Generally, phoenix didn’t like to fly at night. Or at least that’s what Narsus learned growing up with the phoenix forges native to the archipelago. The solar rays of the sun aided their aerial mobility. Made their flight lighter, more efficient. And it did for him, too.

Although, the night had never been his adversary. He chalked it up to his undead bloodline. Narsus played within the realms of day and night with equal grace.

Had he already said it was getting late?

Narsus wasn’t sure why he felt the urgency to be in the air. He should be circling over a specific stretch of water, but still he paced the cliff’s edge. The wind was strangely calm this evening, and thus, not stirring up as many waves.

On guard, tense, and using the sharp night vision gifted to him by the Grim god, Narsus spotted the quick pop of air bubbles breaching the surface. It only lasted a few seconds, but in his heart he knew it was Lune.

In dire need of his help.

He dove off the cliffs in his phoenix form. Shifting into his more streamlined human-self just before hitting the ocean. Plowing straight down into the water.

Lune needed him. He needed Lune. Somewhere beneath these waves, his husband was panicking, unable to breathe.

And…and so was he.

Narsus knew he’d died, twice. Thrice.

At least five times that he was aware of.

Willingly, he traversed farther down into the depths. Permitting himself to be a puppet, one trapped between his phoenix blood and his vampiric blood. A dual heritage that now waltzed together within the murky gloom of the ocean deep.

Losing consciousness as his flames flared out. Only to jerk back into the realm of the living as the fiery green element flared brightly back into being. Only to have the cycles start all over again because he no longer had oxygen trapped in his lungs.

Despite being the child of the Grim, Narsus couldn’t understand how he’d revived and continued to swim on without burning down to ash to be reborn. And especially without a chosen element to anchor his memories. Did this mean he was more undead than phoenix?

The wedding shell . His emotional attachment to it had become his grounding element that charged his rebirth. The gift filled the dark hole inside him where there’d previously been none to fuel him .

The surprise of this lightninged through his brain, but what was far more urgent to him was Lune. To find and reach his heart, his fated mate. His husband.

His sharp eyes found his target, even in the dark depths.

When he got to Lune floating so still, Narsus died yet again from grief.

The new shape of his mate only vaguely registered in his mind. But there wasn’t time now. He had to get Lune back to the surface.

Wrapping an arm around that slim waist, he clawed his way upwards. Dying and reviving a handful more times before breaching the waves. Narsus shifted back into his phoenix body and took flight, with his talons locked around Lune’s arms at the biceps.

Gently lowering him to the closest sandy beach. Once again in his human form, Narsus immediately sent up several fireballs to hover just feet above them. The light cast upon them, bright and clear.

Frantic, and not knowing what to do, he turned Lune on his stomach.

Praying the water would drain from lungs meant for air.

Praying that Lune’s new form would figure it out—despite the shock it had just gone through.

He didn’t even know if doing this was the proper way to revive a siren in natural form.

All Narsus knew was that Lune being in the water right now hadn’t been a good thing.

There was a massive inhale and exhale that expelled a torrent of water—from Lune’s mouth, and his gills. Lune flailed violently, and continued to gag and sputter, his beautiful dual tails thrashing. Narsus angled out of the line of fire, watching.

There wasn’t any blistering or scarring across Lune’s shoulders. Not even a nick from his talons when he’d carried him to safety. No hand-shaped outlines of poison where Narsus had turned him over to face the sand.

There was no damage.

Lune and Brightside were right. Lune was immune to him in siren form. Narsus let out a small snivel, holding his forehead to try and keep from breaking down.

There also was not a mark or scar or rip in those dual, and incredibly beautiful, marvelous fins!

Lune’s strangled grunt drew his attention, and Narsus beheld the beautiful sight.

Lune’s chest was heaving, his lungs now drawing in that salty, precious air.

His sopping wet blonde hair clung to his cheeks.

The warm, sandy brown eyes were gone. Showcased in their place were slightly reflective, pale blue eyes against pale skin.

Those eyes were squinting now. With a clawed, webbed hand raised to shield them from the brightness of his phoenix flame.

Narsus waved away all but one of the light-spheres and fell beside his mate. He gathered Lune up in his arms and held tight. His own body heaving at the elation and relief. His joyful cries renewed when Lune’s arms came around him. Holding just as tightly.

When they parted, Lune’s expression turned to one of concern. “You’ve changed,” he rasped.

Lune’s webbed fingers roamed over Narsus’s face, toying with tracks of sodden little feathers at his hairline. Narsus reached up to explore them, too. He suspected his multitude of deaths would place stress on his body. Perhaps even merge his two forms together.

Taking mental stock of his new form, Narsus felt the heavy weight at his back. Wings. He had wings in his human form, ready to lift him into the air at the mental beckon.

He didn’t care that he was no longer the same.

All he wanted was Lune at his side. “We’ve both changed.

You should see yourself,” Narsus replied, lovingly caressing the fins that sprouted atop Lune’s ears.

The pearly and delicate translucent tips arched above the rounded helix, and shimmered from the water droplets.

They looked very kissable, but that was an inquiry for another time.

Lune was busy staring down at the sand where his legs should be. The twin tails were coiled like snakes on each side of him. Balancing him and keeping him upright.

“Oh my,” Lune marveled. “This is certainly different. I think…I think I like it. But how do I make them move? I seem to be having a little trouble.”

“That’s because your brain’s gone through a bit of a change, too. Shifting is like a muscle, and you overworked it. Which is probably the cause of this scare. It’ll take a bit to get used to. Give it a try.”

Lune seemed to give it a go, but nothing happened. When he stuck out his tongue to concentrate, a limb twitched.

And they laughed, resting their foreheads together as their shaking fists clung upon the other for reassurance. Holding each other, within their cozy circle of phoenix light, recovering from all that had just happened.

Until Lune began to fuss with the bag over his torso.

“By the gods.” Narsus spied the treasure in the netted carry-all. “Is that…my compass?”

“You can’t tell? No, that’s Brightside’s.”

Narsus’s jaw dropped. “You found Bree’s compass!”

Lune nodded, not bothering to hide his smirk. “But this one,” he untangled them as he pulled them from the bag. “I know this belongs to you. Why is it in the ocean?”

When Narsus caught sight of the gleaming metal, he knew it belonged to him. He opened his mouth, having trouble answering. “I had a momentary lapse of judgment…”

“Yes,” Lune agreed. “That’s for certain. Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

“Thank you,” Narsus rushed. “Ah, gods, thank you for being here. For being you. And for being so patient and loving with someone so foolish, it takes them until now to realize how foolish they’d been.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my phoenix.”

Brushing the grime and sludge off his compass, Narsus opened the cover and got to his knees, humbling himself. He held it out for Lune to see. Two yellow jewels shone defiantly among their extinguished kin. Seeing it, Narsus cleared out the bawl strangling his throat, and took a cleansing breath.

“Lune, will you join me as a Compass-mate? Holding hands? Laughing? Loving while we work to help sustain the magic we were born to curate? Will you forgive me for succumbing to my worst fears? Will you be my fated mate on this most beautiful eleventh day?”

“I will. So much yes, my Narsus. To it all.”

Lune pulled his compass off his wrist. With shaking, unfamiliar clawed and webbed hands, he wrestled to open the cover. Touching the compasses together, the jewels flashed in unison, with all thirteen on both apparatuses lighting up.

There was a short cry of relief. From both of them. Releasing their pent-up fear over those shining lights.

The noise Lune made was an amalgam of a laugh and a full-blown cry. “Narsus, will you spend your days here, with me and the ocean? ”

Narsus gathered Lune up in his arms and stood. “I would so very gladly stay with you. In your cozy and bright little beach house.”

The wings sprang up from Narsus’s back, and swept wide in their full glory. Lune’s shocked gasp immediately turned into breathy admiration. He held on tighter. One tail coiled around Narsus’s arm. The other tail anchored around Narsus’s leg.

Narsus craned his neck to give himself a quick inspection. His wings were a striking array of greens with blue edging.

They looked at each other and laughed again. Easy humor that continued to draw them closer together, as fated mates should be.

“Let’s go home.”

“Yes,” Narsus said as they launched into the dawn sky. “Let’s.”