Page 11

Chapter 11

Penelope

T he hike back to the lighthouse ends too quickly. We spill out of the forest and into his yard, but I’m not ready for what comes next.

Yesterday morning, I was a scientist with a shitty ex-husband. Now magic exists and I have a mate. What the heck do I do with all that?

Bjorn walks beside me, his large presence bristling with pent-up tension. Sometime during our walk back, he’s lost his tentacles, his shifter features melting back into his skin. My mind processes it as an observation, but the usual questions don’t come.

My body is in a kind of stasis, stunned even though it continues to move. My mind was so full of questions that the weight of them caused a collapse, and now it’s a blank void full of whooshing white noise. Despite my numbness, there is still this smoldering ball of heat in my chest, almost an ache, that I now recognize is my bond with Bjorn.

He pauses before the doorway of his house and leans down to look into my eyes. The rough pad of his thumb scrapes across my chin. It looks as though he’s going to speak, but then he looks away. His beard twitches from the tic in his jaw.

Instead, he picks me up and carries me inside the house, then sets me down on the worn sofa. He busies himself by building a fire. The warmth of it tingles, bringing awareness back to my limbs. I think I’m in shock.

Bjorn leaves the room and I stare at the flames. My hand idly traces the imprinted circles on my throat. They’re already healed, the raised skin smooth. A warm down blanket is pulled around my shoulders and I blink back to the moment. He hands me a steaming mug that smells spicy.

“Drink,” he commands. His voice is the rumble of waves against the shore, deep and soothing. The sound makes my core ache and pleasure zip down my spine.

I blow on the drink and take a sip. It’s citrusy, with dark cloves and a strong bite. The warmth settles in my belly, and I take a longer pull this time. Bjorn makes an approving grunt and returns to the kitchen.

The clank of pots and cabinets being opened is followed by chopping knives and the aromas of cooking. I finish the drink and look at the flowers I still grip in the other hand. The crocus is a brilliant violet. The color of my eyes and the name he calls me. I felt drawn to the forest this morning, pulled by a yearning I didn’t understand. When I saw the flowers, I had this overwhelming urge to pick them. I wonder if he’s right, if they’re a sign.

Bjorn had a wife and child. He’s a shifter.

As crazy as it sounds, I believe him. And I think I was meant to find those flowers this morning. He captured me, claimed me, but I don’t think this broken half-man, half-sea creature means me harm. The thought of his loneliness and guilt makes my eyes burn and my heart ache. The thunderstorm of questions rumbles in the background of my mind. I’m going to need more answers, but first I need him to know he’s not alone.

I set the flowers on the mantel and move to the kitchen, where I lean against the counter and watch as he adds ingredients into a bubbling pot.

“I know you feel guilty because you couldn’t save them. But it wasn’t your fault what happened.”

Bjorn hovers the ladle over the pot, frozen. The muscles of his arms pull into tight rocks threatening to burst through his flannel shirt. He speaks through a clenched jaw. “I should have been there to protect them.”

“It sounds like you tried, but one man can’t defeat an entire invading army. I know you’ve been punishing yourself. But it wasn’t your fault and you’re not alone anymore.”

He closes his eyes for a moment before searing me with his icy gaze. “I’ve gotten this all wrong with you. It’s my job as your mate to protect you, cherish you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this, my Violet.”

“I don’t know how to do this either. But maybe that’s the wrong question. Maybe the question should be do we want to learn ?”

“How can you possibly… after what I’ve done?”

“Because I’ve been lonely and waiting for you a long time too. I’m not upset you claimed me. I didn’t know what I was asking for, but I did ask for it, Bjorn. You called to me, and I answered.”

He studies my face, and I don’t hide from it, letting him see all those hollowed out places. He makes a low rumble in his chest and sets me on the counter, crowding between my legs.

Bjorn’s big hands cup my face. “Penelope.”

The way he says his my name wrecks me. It’s like it means hope and everything good.

His forehead touches mine. “You’re so beautiful. So curious and brave. A fierce warrior. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side. How is it that you’re here with me?”

Those words are unexpected and the opposite of most I’ve heard in my life. Nothing about this situation is normal, as if I’ve somehow landed in a different reality. Everything is moving fast and none of the rules apply. It’s jarring for sure, but not in a bad way. It’s like coming home after a long trip. You know everything is in the right place, but it takes a moment to settle in after being gone.

I wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him. “I’m asking the same question. You told me magic exists, I’m a mermaid, and the gods sent you as my chosen mate. If I think about it, my mind short-circuits. Maybe for now we should just roll with it.”

Bjorn lets out a husky laugh. It’s a rusty sound that squeezes my heart. “You’re not a mermaid. I’m a kraken shifter, not a fish, and you can’t shift.”

“Potato, po-tat-o.”

His next laugh puffs against my neck and sends a delicious shiver up my spine.

“But I can breathe underwater? How?”

“I thought we were rolling with it,” he teases before placing a kiss on my forehead and backing away from the hug.

“We are. But I’m still curious how it all works.”

His stoic lips tug up at the edges as he goes back to working on the stew. “It works through magic. My venom is infused with it, and when my Beast claimed you, he injected you with venom. For our mates, it endows them with some of our powers.”

I watch as he works around me in the kitchen, gathering flour and starting on a dough.

“So, basically a mermaid. And my number one life goal has been accomplished,” I tease.

His bun bobs as he shakes his head and smirks at my response.

“When do I get to take these new upgrades for a spin?”

He smothers a smile. “After we eat, if you would like, but first let me feed you. Now, help me roll these out.”

I look at the large ball of dough he’s made on the floured surface of the counter next to me, and an old pressure pushes against my chest. “I’m hopeless in the kitchen. I don’t know how to make anything beyond grilled cheese.”

He turns a curious eye on me, then his face softens. “But do you want to learn?”

I take a deep breath and psych myself up. Bjorn isn’t my ex, and it’s okay to make mistakes when I’m learning something new.

“Yeah, Bjorn, I want to learn with you.” The ball of pressure in my chest untangles.