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16

Kai

G ram’s pie hadn’t cheered me up as much as I’d hoped it would.

Sweetness lingered on my tongue, but the sugary treat sat heavily in my stomach as I gazed up at the ceiling, wondering if sleep would elude me for another night. Even in a quiet room surrounded by my closest friends, rest wasn’t coming easily.

Had I slept at all since waking up in the hotel room next to Claira? Would I ever sleep again?

Inhaling deeply, I tried to center my attention on the rhythm of my breathing and not on the vision of the dark spawn lurking in my mind.

I’d thought that as long as I never saw the cecaelia again, I wouldn’t have to remember.

But now that I had, memories I wasn’t ready to relive swelled up, and I found myself choked by the intense emotions that accompanied them.

Guilt. Shame. Loss.

No—don’t think about it . My eyes scrunched shut, and I resisted the urge to hide underneath the quilt Claira had given me for the night.

I couldn’t afford to linger on these memories. Not yet—maybe not ever. I had to be strong and keep Claira smiling, even when it seemed like everything was crumbling apart around us.

Among the torrent of emotions, guilt bubbled to the surface. I hadn’t found the courage yet to tell her about my past with the cecaelia.

How could I when I could hardly bear the weight of it myself?

The thought of telling her petrified me. And the way she’d look at me after she knew? It would be too much for me to take.

My eyes dared to ease shut and curling tentacles, wisps of dark magic, and a signature drawn in blood flashed behind my eyelids, jolting me back awake. A thin layer of sweat beaded on my forehead.

No, sleep wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

I held tight to my blanket, picturing Claira’s peacefully sleeping face. The quilt smelled just like her—a breath of fresh air with a touch of something delicious. Something that made my mouth water. I hadn’t seen inside her room yet, but I hoped it was comfy and that she was getting some sleep.

Next to me, the heat of Leander’s sleeping body stood out in the chill of the air. I listened to the soft sounds of his breathing, a steady reminder that he was still with us.

It was surreal that so much had changed in a blink of an eye. Like something had sucked away all his energy, and it had taken Barren bringing him inside and laying him down before he’d regained consciousness.

Of course, Leander’s immediate response after waking was to insist he was fine. But we all knew better. Claira was so distressed that she didn’t start calming down until Gram came home and consoled her.

These episodes, whatever was happening to him, weren’t something that would just go away. There wasn’t any taking back what he’d done. The trident was part of him now.

Despite my usual attempts to remain optimistic, I was struggling to see the bright side of this.

Since I wasn’t getting any sleep tonight anyway, I thought over my understanding of the tridents, recalling the glyphs in the ruins back home.

Creation. Vitality. Conversion. Visions. Storms.

The five tridents—each one held an equal amount of power, yet all were distinct.

Although the ruins rarely saw visitors, there wasn’t a glyph in there that I hadn’t studied. Its sweeping walls were full of thousands of symbols explaining the merfolk’s history as well as the trident’s uses and powers. But there was nothing about joining or separating from one of them, was there? No evidence of anyone else having done the same. Not in the Pacific’s records, at least, which went all the way back to before the oceans were divided.

Leander’s sharp whisper broke through the stillness. “The fuck do you keep sighing about?”

Seems I wasn’t the only one feeling restless.

Sighing again, I buried my chin into my quilt. “Nothing,” I whispered back.

Although Leander kept his voice low, the threat there was unmistakable. “You better not be thinking about sneaking into Claira’s bedchamber.”

My face burned—was it that obvious I’d been thinking about her only moments before?

“You know I wouldn’t. She told us not to, remember?” I failed to keep my voice steady. “It’s just… I haven’t been able to relax since my injury.”

That wasn’t entirely accurate. Claira and I had been exceptionally relaxed in the hotel together. But I’d been awake then, and that was a different type of relaxed. A type that I hadn’t known was possible until she’d shown me.

“I could really go for some foreplay,” I said wistfully, thinking about how good she felt in my arms. Even just holding her hand might have been enough to help keep these haunts away. “Maybe then I could get some sleep.”

Leander shot upright. “The fuck? ” he snarled, a storm brewing in the depths of his voice.

Oh no.

I gasped. “She didn’t tell you about foreplay?” On instinct, I shielded my neck, throwing the quilt over my face. It wouldn’t protect me, but at least my last breath would remind me of Claira. The quilt muffled my words when I said, “Sorry, man—I thought she already taught you!”

I braced myself for the pain, but all that came was a deep, uncomfortable silence. Leander blew out a breath, then laid back down, mumbling, “I’m going to need you to keep shit like that to yourself.”

He may have sounded cranky, but it didn’t appear that I was in any real danger. Cautiously, I emerged from under the quilt’s security.

There was one final moment of stillness before Leander broke the tension. “Don’t worry about it. I know she’s your mate, too.” Some of the heaviness in the air seemed to dissipate. “If anything, you deserve her more than I do.”

“Whoa, that’s not true,” I said, frowning. If anything, he deserved her more than I did. He was a crown prince, after all. Well, he was before he’d left his kingdom, at least. Legally, I wasn’t sure what he would be now.

“It is true.” There was a bite of anger hanging on the edge of each word. “You used your back as a fucking shield for her because I was too blind to see what was right in front of me.”

I’d been wondering if he blamed himself for what happened when the cecaelia attacked, given his recent behavior toward me. But maybe it wasn’t blame. It could have been the thought of not being able to save her himself that terrified him. I could relate to that.

Despite not being particularly battle-ready, the idea of putting Claira’s safety in someone else’s control filled me with dread. She was my mate, and I wanted to protect her.

It was easy to assume Leander felt the same way.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s not always about you, Leander,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “If things go wrong, you don’t automatically take all the blame just because you happen to be a member of this group.”

Leander grumbled something and rolled over, turning his back to me and taking his blanket with him.

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was,” I continued, even if he wanted to pretend that he was done listening. “Even the trident. What were you supposed to do when you got it? Hand it over to your father?” I snorted, thinking about what King Eamon might do as the sole ruler with access to a trident. It certainly wouldn’t have looked good for the other kingdoms. “I’m sure he’d have spun Claira around to make her pick up all the others for him, wouldn’t he? Sorry for saying this, but your father seems to have some crazy ideations and some pretty wild mood swings.”

When Leander didn’t respond, I wondered if the exhaustion had gotten to him, and he’d finally fallen asleep. Laverne’s steady snores rolled over me from the couch above, and I moved on to counting them, using anything I could as a distraction.

Even if my words hadn’t gotten through to him, it had been nice talking to Leander. My heart felt lighter. Like maybe this was the beginning spark of something between the two of us. Maybe one day, he and I could be friends.

The haunts curled into my vision as my eyes began to drift shut again. Only this time, it was Leander’s voice that chased the nightmares away.

“I thought you were an idiot.”

“Dude, ouch. ” I had to hold back my laugh for fear of waking up Laverne. “My father thinks I’m an idiot. Oh, and my brothers.” I let out a yawn as I pictured their disinterested faces all in a row. “My mother probably does, too.”

“It’s better to be thought of as the kingdom idiot,” Leander mumbled. “Rather than everyone expecting you to have the answers to everything.” My smile faded as the sorrow in his voice became clear. “My entire kingdom is counting on me, and I can’t even control my own fucking emotions.”

I stared up at the ceiling, carefully choosing my response. This was the first time he’d confided in me, and I didn’t want to mess it up. “I could never understand what it is you’re going through, Leander. To hold the power of the Trident of Storms. Like, dude . What are you even supposed to do with that?”

Leander shot up again, his quilt sliding off him. “How did you?—?”

“I don’t read minds, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I shrugged. This wasn’t the first time I’d shocked someone with knowledge I shouldn’t have had. “But I do read. And there is only one trident with mastery over the weather. Conjuring up tempests of thunder and lightning. Unleashing bolts of electrifying fury that can rend the skies asunder.” I absently traced the shape of a lightning bolt glyph in the air with a finger. “Though I didn’t know for sure until I saw you attacking that seagull. Maybe it was the Trident of Vitality, you know? You do have moments where you’re livelier than usual.” I grimaced, remembering how the seagull had looked getting bashed by its own wing. After all Leander had put it through, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had converted to a landgull. “But, no. It’s storms.”

Leander growled a warning under his breath.

“Look, I know the Atlantic doesn’t want the other kingdoms knowing what it can do. Better to have them fear they could do anything ,” I said, absently plucking at a stray thread in the quilt. “I know how it is. My father keeps his trident’s powers a secret, too. He refused to even meet with Barren back when he was going to be crowned as king.”

Nobody, not even my oldest brother, was aware of the trident’s capabilities. Though, thanks to the clues written in the ruins, I’d deduced its power long ago.

What a bummer that a king without any imagination wielded the power to create.

I could never find the same warmth in my father’s creations as I did in natural life. Even the giant, fast-moving stingrays he would conjure up to win his tournaments for him seemed to lack the graceful, undulating movements of a natural-born ray.

“Allowing its wielder to control winds, summon torrential rains, and command thunderstorms to assail their foes,” I recited from my memory, recalling the shape of each glyph on the ruin’s walls pertaining to the Trident of Storms. “It can also manipulate the very fabric of weather, shaping clouds and currents to its wielder’s will. It’s crazy to think what that kind of raw energy could do to one merman,” I added.

Maybe this wasn’t helping.

Through the darkness, I could see Leander scrubbing a hand over his face. “Do you ever stop talking?” he asked, and a smile pulled at my lips.

“No,” I confessed. “Whenever I stop, that’s when I start thinking.” And once I started thinking, my mind quickly became overfull.

Leander must have reached his social limit, because he threw his quilt off his legs and stood up.

I raised my eyebrows as I tilted my head back to see him. “You’re not going to sneak into Claira’s room, are you?”

The floor underneath where Barren lay creaked, and I had a hunch Leander wouldn’t make it very far if he tried.

“Of course not. She told us not to,” Leander said, although he did cast a look toward her room like he might have been thinking about it. “Now move.”

“Move?” I blinked up at him, but when he leaned down to lift the edge of my quilt, my entire body froze up. Did he want me to move over? Like, make room for him?

“I’m f-flattered!” I yelped, fighting to take the corner of my quilt back from him. “But when I said I wanted foreplay… I, uh, I didn’t mean with you. ”

Leander’s growl was like a thunderclap. “Get the fuck up!”

At his cue, I scrambled to move. As soon as I was upright, Leander’s hand was between my shoulder blades, pushing me to the front door. “Wait—where are we going?”

He waited until we were outside in the night air, the door shut behind us, to answer. “Did your kingdom make you take lessons from a spearman?” he asked, directing all his focus on me.

I shook my head.

A lantern next to the door flickered on, revealing the tired expression on Leander’s face. Despite passing out earlier, he didn’t look to be sleeping well these nights, either. “Figured as much. How about any regular combat training? Education on war tactics?”

I scratched at the back of my neck and offered a nervous smile. “Err… Nope.”

“Great.” Leander’s jaw tightened, telling me he did not think this was great news. “You like games, right?” he asked finally, stomping off down the stairs.

That got a prickle of interest from me. “I love playing games,” I said, following him.

Without looking back, he threw up his hand. “You love throwing games,” he corrected.

I paused on the very last step. “What?—?”

“Klester gave me his report,” Leander cut back in, whipping around to face me. “You played a series of games with him, sabotaging each move so that he would win.” He turned down to huff out a breath like he thought the notion idiotic.

“And then Claira told me she played you for hours, and you know what? Although you demonstrated you knew the rules, you never beat her. Not once,” he said, accusation sharpening his tone. “Even when she tried to let you win, you lost.”

“I, uh…” Uh-oh . I didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever noticed when I’d thrown a game before. No one had ever paid enough attention to me to notice that it wasn’t the game I was playing, but my opponent.

Backtracking, Leander stomped back to the bottom of the stairs to grab the front of my shirt. The light from the front door’s lantern glinted off his eyes. “Well, I’ve got a game for you.” His grip tightened, nearly pulling me off the step. “But you’re not going to throw this one. You’re done losing. You’re done throwing games, got it?”

Before I could answer, his eyes narrowed. “Now you’re going to fucking win .” He released me with a jerk and spun around, heading for the center of the lawn.

“It’s not always about who wins, you know,” I threw back as soon as he turned. “No one wants to play games with someone who wins all the time.”

Leander reared back over to me, scowling. “That doesn’t mean you have to throw every fucking game.”

I chuckled. I’d only done that because I really didn’t want Claira to stop playing against me. Usually, I let myself win a game or two. Especially when I was playing over a bet I couldn’t afford to lose.

“Fine,” Leander grumbled. “Forget winning. From now on, this is about survival. If you want to be a part of this group, win or lose, you’re going to have to survive.”

That I could agree with.

“Your kingdom might have overlooked you, but don’t think I’ll let you slack off,” he called out, lifting his arms high above his head as if stretching. “Now get moving, Kaius. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”