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34

Claira

T he abrupt shock of icy water jolted me awake. A presence loomed above me, muttering impassioned words in an unfamiliar language.

Barren?

Slowly, I opened my eyes, only to be greeted by a blinding stream of water cold enough to make me gasp. My arms dangled at my sides, my legs twisting in an awkward position. What the heck happened to me?

Memories flooded in as I tried to piece everything together—the lights beneath the water’s surface, the invisible gates, the nervousness that gripped me when I held Barren’s wide jaw between my hands…

Breaking through the barrage of foreign words, the deep voice let slip my name. “Claira?”

“Barren,” I groaned back, a sharp throb shooting through my head at the movement. That’s right—I’d asked him a question that had caught him so off guard he ended up fumbling me into the underside of his bungalow. Ouch .

I blinked rapidly, my vision clearing to reveal Barren’s panicked eyes gazing down at me. Water weighed heavily on his curly hair, dripping down his face and shoulders in unrelenting streams. His lips parted, his face etched with sorrow, as if he’d thought he’d been clutching to a corpse.

But I wasn’t a corpse—clearly. I was alive and well, except for this numbing coldness and the painful throb in my head.

Still, he hovered above me, muscles tense, holding me securely within the stream of water. Why was it so freaking cold ?

“You’re quite strong,” I mumbled, my tongue sluggish and my head still buzzing from the impact.

My comment only seemed to darken Barren’s expression further. “I—” His lips pressed shut, pain and regret showing all over his face.

“Where are we?” I asked, my eyes extra rolly as I surveyed around us.

“I had to wake you.”

Wake me? I stared straight up, focusing on the showerhead looming above us.

Hold on—was this Barren’s shower stall?

I winced, noticing how his brace was flattened against the stall’s wall. As suspected, his shoulders didn’t fit. Still, he’d somehow managed to cram both of us inside it—mostly. But with the way he’d pulled the curtain back, water rushed over his back and shoulders, spilling onto the bathroom floor.

And goodness, there was a lot of water.

“How long… how long was I out?” The tender lump on the top of my head stung as soon as I touched it. I withdrew my hand, bracing for the sight of blood, and sighed, relieved to find my fingers were clean. “At least it’s not serious.”

Muscles ticked in Barren’s jaw as he stared down at me, and I realized then that if it weren’t for his arm holding me, I’d be laid out on the bottom of the stall in a tangled heap of limbs.

His hand cradled the back of my neck, and it wasn’t a terrible sensation. In fact, it was kind of perfect. Safe .

I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation while I felt out the crown of my head some more.

But then Barren’s arm jerked, jostling me back and forth. “ No ,” he asserted, loud enough to shock my eyes open. “No sleep.”

I gawked up at him, only to find terror darkening his eyes.

“I’m not trying to sleep . I’m trying to figure out what…” My voice trailed. I knew exactly what had happened. I’d asked him an important question, and in doing so, accidentally short-circuited his brain. Or something.

Did that mean my voice had called to him? Despite the cold, that thought had warmth spreading through me. “Did you carry me here from the water?”

I stared down at my legs, confirming that they were, in fact, legs . Oh no. They were bare legs . And not just mine.

The sound of my pounding heart drowned out all else as I took in Barren’s muscled legs, thick as tree trunks, braced on either side of me. Not to mention the—well, let’s call it a banana leaf—dangling between them.

Whoa.

“I hurt you.” Unaware of my revelation, Barren’s words fell like a hushed confession. “I—” He started to speak, but his voice caught, and I looked up to see him struggling to compose himself. His searching gaze made it clear he was grappling with the words he needed to say.

Maybe it was the way my body was heating or Barren’s close proximity, but already the ache in my head was beginning to ease. “I know,” I whispered, pulling my arms around his neck to let him know I understood. “You didn’t mean to.”

As if in a daze, he murmured softly, “It was not my intention.”

I straightened my feet beneath me, but Barren’s grip tightened as if he feared I might fall. “It’s okay. I’m fine now, really.” I patted the back of his shoulders, hoping he’d realize I could hold my own weight. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been knocked out.”

In fact, it seemed to be a new trend for me. An unexpected consequence of hanging around mermen.

Barren’s eyebrows dipped. “One concussion is too many.”

“Concussion?” I snorted, tapping at the lump on my head. “Can merfolk even get concussions? As long as my head can handle the pressure of deep-sea diving, I’m pretty sure I can survive a tiny bump.”

The logic seemed sound enough to me, but Barren’s serious expression had me wondering if I’d managed to slur every word.

He scooped me up without warning, collecting me in his arm. “Wait, hey—Barren!” But he wasn’t listening, and I scrambled to turn off the shower before he left with the water still running. “Hey.” I thumped him on the shoulder, pouting. “I can walk, you know.”

But then I noticed the floor, slick with water. It was a wonder he hadn’t slipped. “You know, before you guys came along, I never once flooded a bathroom.”

Barren’s sullen expression only broke long enough to stifle a chuckle. “Towel,” he said, turning me to the rows of shelves.

“Oh, right,” I mumbled. But instead of only grabbing one, I grabbed two, holding them close as he carried us into his bedroom.

“Hey, Barren,” I whispered, leaning into his neck. “Most people dry off in the bathroom.”

“Too cramped,” he said, and I had to grab hold of his shoulders to keep myself steady as he shrugged.

“What’s it like, being a titan?” I asked, keeping my tone playful as he sat me down next to his bed. Wow, I was feeling surprisingly good, all things considered. Who knew a smack to the head could produce such a rush? I handed him a towel, which he took with a nod. But instead of unfolding it, he simply held it, his gaze fixated on the top of my head.

“I don’t know. What’s it like to be a fisherman?” he said, his tone unreadable.

My lips pursed. He really wanted to talk about fish guts right now? Obviously, my sex appeal wasn’t working like it should.

I stared up at him a moment, half naked and dripping with water, waiting to see if his gaze would stray. If maybe he would look at the rest of me, considering how he’d admitted to liking the bikini top earlier.

But he couldn’t seem to draw his attention away from my injury, his eyes dark and haunted, as if his mistake underwater was still replaying in his mind.

Well, if he couldn’t break his focus away from my head, I’d break it for him. Twirling around, I bent forward, flipping my hair over so I could towel dry the ends. “Sometimes it’s interesting,” I said coyly. “I once caught a merman in my net.”

Behind me, the floorboards creaked.

There . Focus broken.

“Lucky merman,” Barren said, the deep rasp in his voice causing the corner of my lips to lift.

I stole a glance back, half-expecting him to have turned around to give me privacy, but no. He’d taken a step closer.

“Barren?” I straightened up, my face flushing. His eyes moved up my body, taking in every inch of me before finally meeting my gaze. “What are you doing?”

He remained still as a statue, his chiseled neck thickly corded with tension. “Watching you.”

I dropped the towel from my hair and wrapped it around me, half-heartedly drying my back. “Is that right?”

“Mmh,” he mumbled his usual grunt, not even bothering to pretend to care about toweling himself off. He breathed in heavily, his chest expanding. “Someone will have to watch you for the rest of the night.”

My flush crept down my neck.

“Really, now?” I ambled a step closer, perhaps a bit more unsteady than my usual gait. My fingers moved to the hem of my towel, letting it fall to the ground with a soft rustle.

A small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corner of Barren’s lips, a silent approval that set my pulse racing even faster. I moved to his towel, and he let it go without protest, watching my hands as I unfolded it. “And why’s that?” I asked, reaching up in an offer to dry his hair.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he would let me. But Barren’s neck bowed forward, his throat bobbing as he mumbled, “For signs of a concussion.”

“… Oh, right.” Was it wrong that I wasn’t entirely upset about possibly having a concussion?

I patted down his hair, surprised by how much water had soaked into the curls. After I finished, I waited for him to look back up at me before grinning. “Are you volunteering?”

“That depends,” he murmured. To my surprise, he took the towel from me, moving it aside to close the space between us.

Now I was really curious. I gazed up at him, my breath bated.

The disarray of the room was clearly not a concern, because the hand that came up under my chin wasn’t holding a towel. Barren tilted my chin up, much like I’d done to him. He swallowed, his jaw tensing before his eyes settled on my lips. “Has my voice ever called to you?”

A shiver washed over me, because in that moment, it was like his voice had struck a chord so deep that it resonated through my bones.

“Yes,” I breathed out, feeling the weight of his gaze on my lips. “It has.”

The touch of his thumb grazing my cheek, the warmth radiating from his bare body. It was like basking in the comforting heat of sun-scorched sand.

Barren took a step closer, his towering frame making me feel small and delicate in comparison. His thumb traced my lower lip, the look in his eyes almost as if he were bidding goodbye to what we had been, readying for what we were to become.

“Claira,” he rumbled, and my body came to life under the new way he spoke my name.

As he leaned in, I couldn’t help but rise to him until our breaths melded—the bite of salt blending with a robust, woodsy aroma, like steeping herbal tea. Barren . My heart raced as my stoic titan’s gaze bore down at me, every nerve in my body on edge.

I thanked every star I’d ever seen that his bed was beside us. Because I knew with certainty if he kissed me like he had when he abruptly took my lips underwater, I would need it there to keep myself standing.

Like most things between us, Barren didn’t bother with the words. His hand slid from my chin to the nape of my neck, his solid muscles pressing against me as his lips descended, a searing collision that left me breathless.

Barren’s actions spoke louder than words ever could, and his kiss was no different—precise, deliberate, yet exquisitely tender. With my eyes closed, I surrendered to the sensation, reveling in his strength, his presence.

His hand drifted down the small of my back, drawing me closer to him, and I went willingly. Our bodies pressed against each other, the heat of his skin seeping into mine. My fingers strayed to the strap of his brace, tracing its ridges before curling around it, coaxing a surge of energy from him.

The kiss deepened, and in Barren’s satisfied groan, I felt a rush of longing for the unspoken connection we had been denying ourselves for too long.

Barren gently nudged me toward the edge of the bed, and before I knew it, I was lying down, my back flush against the mattress. Cool fabric clung to my back, my wet hair scattering around me, likely sullying the sheets I’d spent so much time perfectly smoothing out earlier. Had our ice shower been enough to wash away the nasty ocean brine?

When Barren came back into view, I realized I didn’t care—and it seemed he didn’t either.

He towered over me, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his swollen lips a testament to the intensity of our kiss.

Desire darkened his eyes. “I was going to let Leander have you,” he said, his tongue washing over his bottom lip as he looked me over.

My breath hitched, heat blooming deep in my belly at the way his eyes raked over every inch of me. Like he was readying to pin me to his bed.

Yes, please.

He sank down, propping up on his forearm, and I was barely prepared for the rush of desire that coursed through me as his mouth reclaimed mine.

Yes . This felt right. The passion in his kiss was more than welcome, and my arms encircled his neck. I wrapped around him, my fingers playing with the muscles lining the back of his bare shoulders, the tension between us building with every brush of his lips. His hips canted just enough for his extensive erection to nudge against my thigh, and damn , he was hard.

I scooted up, needing to feel even more, and Barren followed suit, his legs straddling mine, creating deep grooves where he leaned into the edge of the mattress. Heat from his satin-smooth skin burned right into the sides of my legs, his arousal hot and branding against my inner thigh. But I didn’t mind it. No, I loved it. Needed it. More heat, more of him.

“Barren,” I groaned against his lips when we both came up for air. I tugged on his shoulders, fighting to drag him on top of me, but my statuesque titan wouldn’t budge. The bulk of his massive body hovered well above me, as if he were afraid I might break underneath him.

Okay, he would definitely crush me—but I was okay with it.

Break me , I thought as his relentless tongue dipped, sweeping over mine. Shatter me into pieces.

Because I knew he would reassemble every fragment of me with utmost care. That was who he was.

Barren’s lips cinched, breaking this moment of bliss, and his chest rumbled with humor as he pulled away. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to kiss me,” he murmured, a handsome flush tinting his face.

Desire was a good look for him. He rarely looked his age, and this confident, playful look was something that I could easily get used to.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked with a breathless smile.

He adjusted his position, making sure not to put any pressure on me. “You already have Leander, Kai. Why would you want someone like me?”

I shook my head, my fingers tracing over his strong jaw, hating the way his confidence seemed to dissolve away. “ Someone like you? ” It was hard for me to even repeat it. I hated this—hated that he thought he was somehow less. “Barren…”

He looked away, but I caught him before he could drift too far. My heart ached at the thought of how much pain he’d been through, and I wanted to show him that, despite what his kingdom had told him, he was more than worthy of being loved.

“You’re wonderful,” I whispered, leaning up to press my forehead against his. “No one has ever made me feel as safe and protected as you do.”

“Protected?” His chest shook with a suppressed laugh. He kissed me again with a slow and tender touch that felt both new and familiar all at once. Then he pressed a soft kiss against the bump on the top of my head. “I hurt you.”

I huffed, squirming underneath him. “You know that was an accident. And honestly, I should have waited for a time when we weren’t moving to ask you…” My voice trailed off as I remembered how he’d mentioned Leander only moments ago. “You… you said you were going to let Leander have me? I’m not sure I understand.”

Barren’s hard features softened as he looked down at me. He answered my question with a simple nod, and I felt an unexpected pang when he didn’t elaborate.

“What do you mean by that?”

He moved above me, causing my arms to slip from around his neck as he rose from the bed with a grunt. “Barren!” I called out, my brows furrowing as I propped myself up on my elbows.

Barren walked over to his dresser, then paused, and when he turned around, a long, glittering chain dangled from his fingers. He retraced his path back to the bed with hesitant steps, his mouth pitched in uncertainty as he extended his hand, offering me the chain.

The pink pearl in its silver cage glimmered as I reached for it.

“You don’t remember,” he said, taking a seat beside me on the bed.

“No, I remember.” The mattress shifted under his weight, and I let myself rest against him. “You teased me that your mate had given it to you.” Just the memory of it was enough to make my stomach churn.

“Mmh.” A forceful swallow worked his throat. “Only, I wasn’t teasing you. My mate gave this to me.”

“Oh. I—I see,” I sputtered. There went my insides. My heart disintegrated. My lungs collapsed, my life force shriveling away to nothing.

I could feel the bed shift as Barren turned to face me, but I couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t do anything but gasp and fight for my next breath.

“You gave it to me.”

I—what?

“You don’t remember,” he went on as his hand met the bump on the top of my head, soothing it with a tender brush of his thumb. “I traveled to the Atlantic once, as a merfry. For a banquet Leander’s father arranged in celebration of the expected death of my father.”

That… Well, that did sound like something King Eamon would do. But a banquet? Papa hadn’t allowed me to attend banquets, except for?—

Wait.

My eyes widened as I turned the silver cage around in my palm. “Holy crap,” I whispered, staring down at the perfect pink pearl.

I’d kept one just like it tucked in the seagrass where I slept, too valuable to store in the bag with my other pearls. Most of them ended up scuffed or lost from playing rounds of Shooters, but not that pearl—that pearl I’d wanted to keep safe.

Because I knew that somewhere out there, it had a twin. Doubles , Papa used to call them. I’d opened hundreds of oysters, but only ever found one pair.

My hand tightened around the necklace. He’d kept his safe, after all this time. “That was you?” I said weakly.

I stared at him, awestruck, my mind replaying what I could remember of the banquet and of the merfry with the red tail who’d helped me open the oyster Papa had brought me.

That shy young merfry seemed so different from the Barren before me now.

It had been so long since I’d thought of that banquet—it was one of the last happy memories I’d had from my life under the waves. I hadn’t wanted to think about the bad times, and I’d wanted to think of the good times even less. Once, I’d done everything in my power to leave that life behind me. But now…

Barren’s hand cupped my jaw, bringing me over to him. “We were young, yes. But I knew.” His warm palm found its way to my chest, resting over my heart before he pressed it against his own. “Right here. I knew.”

He’d known then that we were mates? “Did you read my mind or something?” I leaned in closer to whisper, “You can’t see all of my mates in there, can you?”

A chuckle rattled through him. “No,” he said, retrieving the necklace from my hand. “I didn’t read your mind that day.”

“Why not?” I frowned at his bare back as he got up to put the pearl safely away.

“I didn’t need to.” After setting it back in its glass container, he shrugged. “You spoke to me. No one ever spoke to me.”

That’s right—his father had forbidden it. I pressed a hand to my chest, where his palm had been, almost feeling the weight of his loneliness upon my heart.

“That day, Leander told me you were going to be a king,” I murmured, working through the memory. Why hadn’t I made the connection sooner? Queen Javalynn had even said Barren’s kingdom had passed over him in favor of her.

Ugh —that thought was infuriating. Barren would have made a great king. Better than his sister by far.

“I thought I’d never get to speak with you again,” I said as he walked back over. “They never let me speak with royalty. Well, except for Lee,” I added with a snort.

Saying nothing, Barren’s hand fell over the buckle of his brace, and I wasn’t sure what to think when he began undoing the strap. He peeled off the leather, revealing angry imprints on his skin from how tightly he’d had it fastened.

This wasn’t the first time I’d seen the scars underneath his brace. But it was the first time I felt Barren intentionally wanted me to look at the deep hollow where his arm had once been.

Pain registered in his eyes as he scrubbed his palm over the angry skin. Not the physical kind, no, but shame. “My father had raised me to replace him, yes. But that was before I became—” His mouth struggled to form the word, and he cast his eyes to the floor before saying, “—tainted.”

“You’re not tainted,” I said forcefully, my heart pounding as I lifted to my feet. The scars looked rough, sure, the skin shiny and thick, but those scars didn’t define him. Barren wasn’t tainted. “May I?” I whispered, my hand shaking with rage as it hovered over his chest.

I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to touch his scars, but I needed him to know that he was whole and perfect as he was.

Barren’s jaw clenched, and a flicker of doubt lanced through me, uncertain if I’d crossed an invisible line. But then, his chin dipped in a terse nod, and a quiet “mmh” vibrated his lips.

With a delicate touch, I traced over the ridge of a scar with the pad of my thumb, my voice softer when I repeated, “You’re not tainted.” The skin was slightly raised, but strength still surged underneath it. It was still Barren.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he watched me, his warm breath washing over my face with each exhale. “What did my sister tell you about my arm?”

I pressed closer to him, keeping my thumb on the scar I was following, and glanced up. “Nothing, really. She seemed surprised you hadn’t already told me.”

Though I understood why he hadn’t. He’d been treated so unfairly. It wasn’t right. “Losing an arm doesn’t make you any less of a merman, or a king.”

“My father took it,” Barren said suddenly, his voice low and heavy.

“Your father? ” I whispered. I—I hadn’t expected that.

The lines of his throat tightened. “Once, I thought my sister cared for me. Lynn. She would come to me against my father’s orders. Speak to me.”

He slumped down to the bed with a deep sigh, and I followed, sitting down beside him. “She couldn’t read minds, and because of that, our father had no interest in her. But as I am sure you noticed, she does have a gift.”

I nodded, placing a hand over his. “She can put thoughts in people’s minds, can’t she?”

“Mmh. Even mine,” he murmured, his wide hand curling around mine. “In her mind, I saw everything she wanted me to see. Love for me. Caring. I heard her thoughts of swimming down to the Undersea, and of course, I wanted to stop her. To protect her.”

I could practically feel the weight bearing down on his words, aching with the scars of a past that refused to fade. “The only thing waiting there for me was dark spawn. One caught me by my right arm, wound around it. I cut myself free, but I’d already lost more in that moment than a young merfry could imagine.”

His voice faltered, his facade of composure cracking with a weak laugh. “Lynn had sent guards to follow me. Our father was dying, and at six years old, she’d made her move for his crown. In this ocean, mer and cecaelian magic doesn’t mix. It is believed that their dark magic can seep in, tainting us down to our bones.”

His face hardened as if he truly was carved from stone. “I don’t blame my father for taking it,” he said gruffly. “It was a dying king’s desperate attempt to fix his chosen heir. He gave me a choice—the arm or the crown. But the damage had been done. Lynn made sure of it. I knew before my wound had healed that I’d lost them both.”

I—I couldn’t even imagine the pain he’d gone through. I knew mermaids could be monstrous, but a six-year-old doing such things? And to her own brother?

“Does your kingdom really hate cecaelia that much?” I asked, my throat going painfully hoarse. “Even enough to…” I stared at the place where Barren’s arm had once been, unable to say it. The scars ran deep. So, so deep. And his own father had done it to him.

I swallowed, remembering how dark cecaelian magic had been all over me, too. Only days earlier, tentacles had wrapped over every one of my limbs, even around my waist. If Barren shared the same beliefs…

“They do,” he said solemnly. “For as long as my kingdom has lived in these waters.”

“That’s insane. Cecaelia are—are—” My tongue tied together, a gag working up my throat. They’re right here, hiding out on this island , I screamed in my head.

“Dangerous,” Barren completed the sentence for me, and I stared at him, confused. “While I don’t share their superstitions, I understand why my kingdom believes as they do.” He leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear. “Dark spawn don’t think twice about taking a life. Even their own kind.”

I clasped my hands together, trying to steady my shaking fingers as I thought about the abalone shell sitting in my bag across the bedroom. Sure, cecaelia seemed dangerous, but were merfolk any better?

Barren leaned back, his shoulders slumping in relief. “I was worried my sister’s gift might affect you, too,” he admitted, his chin tilting back so he could look up at the ceiling. “That you might—might fear me. Not want to touch me. I’m relieved that’s not the case.”

Oh, she’d tried it. That bitch . Forgotten anger welled up in me like it had been waiting for me to remember just how much I disliked Barren’s sister. “Fear you? Not want to touch you?” I almost growled the words, my insides seething. “Barren…” I climbed on top of him, placing my hands on his chest as I straddled his lap. His eyes opened wide, and I could feel his heart thumping, a steady drumbeat under my palms.

“I do want to touch you,” I said softly, brushing my lips against his. “I want to keep touching you. If I’m afraid of anything, it’s that I’ll never want to stop touching you.”

The corner of his lips curved under mine. His arm swept low around my back, pulling me further onto his lap. “Really?” he asked, his breath tickling my lips.

I tried to think of a clever response, but the hot pulse of his erection coming to life underneath me proved to be quite the distraction. The way Barren’s body responded to mine was a heady sensation—the warmth of his skin, the way his muscles tensed with my every move.

“I’m going to touch you, Barren,” I murmured, my hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen. I didn’t know why I said it, but it felt right, and the way the words made him shudder had me thinking he enjoyed hearing me say it.

“But I want you to touch me, too,” I whispered, flashing a heated grin up at him. His hand wasted no time, dropping low enough to cup the swell of my ass. I groaned, loving the strength of his grip. His lips were suddenly on mine again. This time, there was no holding back the heat that coursed through us both.

Barren slid his tongue against my lips, tempting me to open my mouth for him, and I obliged, letting his tongue tangle with mine. My hands found his shoulders—goodness, I loved his shoulders—and my body moved of its own accord to further straddle his lap. I felt his cock, hot and heavy, rub against my inner thigh. That part of him had been teasing me all night, and I wasn’t sure if Barren even knew it.

Now it was my turn to do the teasing.

He let out a low grunt when I dipped between us, taking his cock into my hands. He was impossibly stiff, and I feathered my fingertips over the tip, marveling at the silken feel of him.

“Damn, that’s huge,” I said, the words spilling out against his lips. Sure, I knew he was massive, but it wasn’t until I held him that I understood the true scope of his size.

I must have forgotten myself, because the way Barren stopped to chuckle told me I hadn’t whispered that thought as quietly as I’d intended.

I continued stroking him from base to tip, letting my fingers ghost over the plump head, fascinated by the way his muscles tensed at my touch.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his tone amused, almost cocky.

I nodded, the only response I could manage while clasping his erection in my hands. I was enjoying myself. A lot .

“Mmh,” he rumbled, and before I knew what was happening, he’d rolled us over. My back went flat on the bed, and I stared up at him, his cock still in my hand.

I felt Barren’s scorching gaze as he stared down at my nearly bare body. His every movement seemed to radiate desire, sending a shiver of anticipation running through my center.

But then he spoke, and his words were like a splash of cold water doused over my senses. “Your head hit the dock hard,” he muttered, his voice. “I’m supposed to be watching you.”

Was he really still worried about that? “What? It’s fine—I barely even feel it,” I assured him, but his concern was written all over his face.

“Barren. I’d still want to touch your dick, even if my head hadn’t hit your dock,” I said evenly, giving his cock a firm squeeze that made his jaw clench and eyes roll upward.

He shook off the sensation with a groan before leaning down to press another kiss next to the bump on my head. “All right. How about this?” he muttered. “After you recover, if you still want to touch me, I’ll be yours to do whatever you want.”

I stared over at him, my eyebrows raising in curiosity. “ Anything I want?”

He nodded, letting himself fall on the bed beside me with a tired sigh. I realized then how exhausted he looked. He’d stayed up doing chores earlier while all of us rested in preparation for meeting with his sister.

Frustrated in a multitude of ways, I blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before jerking over to my side. Barren was watching me, of course, his arm perched on the side of his hip.

As if my eyes were magnets drawn to another, my gaze slid down to his erection. Swollen and red, it looked like he was almost as frustrated as I was.

“You’re really worried that I’m not of sound mind?” I asked with a frown.

His chest rocked with a steadying breath. “I’d rather not remember tonight as the night I hurt you and then acted on my desires.”

Oh—well, when he put it like that, he had a point. A lot had happened today. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day all around.

“Are you sleeping in here with me, then?” Nestling closer, I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. “I’ll have to lie next to you if you’re going to watch me, right?” I asked teasingly, giving his chest a nudge.

“Mmh. I’ve missed this.” His head rolled back to find one of his pillows. “Although I usually sleep underneath the sheets,” he said flatly.

“And do you usually sleep naked?” I asked, feigning surprise as I crawled out of the bed. “Because I know this might be shocking, but I don’t usually sleep dressed in one solitary bikini top.”

“Shirtless, usually,” he said as he pulled back the sheets. Crawling back in first, he looked like he couldn’t wait to get back to his pillow.

Well, if he was going in naked, I was going in naked, too.

Although he didn’t lift his head, one of Barren’s eyebrows rose as I slipped off my bikini top. Then I crawled in, settling in close enough that my breasts brushed against his chest. He let out a grunt, but then bent down to meet my lips in a tender kiss.

“I’m not sure you should be sleeping,” he said as my fingers trailed down his stomach, lightly tracing over his muscles.

“Well, how about I promise to stay awake?” I whispered, my hands fully settling against his warm skin. “You need sleep, Barren. You look exhausted.”

“Mmh. I am tired,” he said with a yawn. “We should both stay awake.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I chuckled. He wouldn’t last five minutes. “Good luck.”

We lay there, still and quiet, our bodies pressed together as I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. My eyes fell to his scars, and a wave of nausea hit.

I hated his sister. Maybe his kingdom, too, for so easily tossing Barren aside. Their hatred for cecaelia made them blind to his suffering, or perhaps they never cared to begin with.

But as I watched his steady breaths, my heart filled with admiration. Despite everything, Barren had risen above it. Even living as an outsider on this island, he’d found joy in walking his own path.

“Are you still watching me?” I asked, but when I glanced up, Barren’s eyes were closed, his body at ease.

“Barren?” I whispered, but he didn’t stir. He really had been tired.

Silently, I crept out of bed, careful to tuck the sheets back in around him. The only thing on my mind when I pulled on fresh clothes was Barren’s kingdom and their tumultuous relationship with the cecaelia.

If only there was a way for the merfolk to let go of their superstitions, then maybe, just maybe, it would spare Barren from more pain.

There was… one way.

Usually, when it came to the affairs of merfolk, I was reluctant. But not this time.

I felt it deep in my bones. I knew what I had to do.

Sneaking around the bed, I opened my suitcase, digging out a notebook and pen from the bottom. Flipping to a blank page, I thought a moment before putting my pen to the paper. I only managed to write the words don’t worry, I’ll be before pain seared through my hand.

What the heck?

Irritated, I cut to the chase, attempting to write the letter c, when another jolt caused me to scratch a rogue line over the paper. “Dammit,” I muttered. It appeared there was more to this silencing spell than just saying words.

I tried drawing a picture next, but only managed to scrawl one tentacle before my hand jerked, ruining what I’d done with a scribble. Hunching over the paper, I took a deep breath, deciding I would try something else entirely.

Circling the words Don’t worry, I drew a new picture in the space underneath them. Four hearts. Perfect. Only my conscience wouldn’t let me set it down until I drew a tiny sea lion next to them.

Okay, now it was really perfect. Or at least, as perfect as it was ever going to get when I wasn’t allowed to drop any clues as to where I was going.

Sighing, I sat the note down and then went over to my bag, fishing the shells out from its bottom. My fingers curled around the smooth surface of the abalone shell as I gripped it in one hand, my magical switchblade in the other.

This was my chance. To help Leander free himself from his trident, and maybe help how Barren’s kingdom saw cecaelia, as well.

Knowing the guys would try to stop me, I did the only thing I could do.

I snuck out the patio door.