Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Pain. A dull, insistent ache at her side. A fire burning low in her throat.
Ursula's body felt heavy, weighted, as though she'd been buried under a ship. Maybe she had. The last thing she remembered was the kraken sinking and the sailors firing harpoons at her.
Maybe she'd sunk them? Would serve them right. She'd been trying to save the fools. It was her last time trying to save men. She was done being a heroine.
She tried to breathe and felt the cool, familiar rush of saltwater flood her gills. Not just any saltwater. This salt tasted of home.
Panic licked up her spine. Had she failed? Had she been dragged back to the depths, shackled, thrown at Triton’s feet like a trophy of war?
Her fingers twitched. Something soft and warm twined around them. Not chains. Not bonds of imprisonment. A hand.
She knew this grip. The strength in it, the warmth. Even beneath the water, she could feel his pulse. Steady. Unyielding.
Eric.
Ursula blinked, the murk clearing from her vision. Above the surface, moonlight bled silver over the world. She saw the dark outline of a body, his body, slumped on a hard, unforgiving surface. Not sand. Not stone. A pool.
She wasn’t at the bottom of the sea. She was in a saltwater pool. She was inside the castle, in the pool he'd promised to build for her.
She sat up abruptly. The moment she did, Eric’s grip on her tightened. His breath hitched. His head snapped up. Then he was on her. Pulling her into his arms, holding her so tightly it stole what little air she had left in her lungs.
Ursula gasped. Eric's grip loosened instantly. He murmured a curse, pressing his forehead to hers.
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
His hands cupped her face, traced the curve of her jaw, brushed over the damp skin of her throat. His fingers drifted lower to the wound at her side. Pain flared at his touch, but his hands were so careful, so reverent, that she didn’t pull away.
“Triton said you needed the sea to heal. So I brought it to you.”
Ursula swallowed, throat raw. Her voice was hoarse, rasping, but she had to ask. “Why didn’t you give me to him?”
“We can conquer the Sea Kingdom tomorrow, if that is your wish, my siren. But right now, you need to heal.”
The water rippled as Eric slid into the pool beside her. His body was warm, solid, grounding. He cradled her close, his arms strong but careful, mindful of the wound at her side.
“Rest,” he murmured against her temple. “I've got you. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
She should argue. Should tell him she didn’t need his protection. She didn't need anything from anyone. But the exhaustion tugged at her bones, the ache deep in her muscles too heavy to fight. And so, for once, she did as she was told.
She let herself sink into his hold. Her fingers drifted along his forearm, tracing the lines of muscle, the ridges of scars.
“Are you hurt?” she said.
“Yes, I am. Very hurt. You should have told me the truth.”
Which truth was he referring to? She'd told so many lies. But only one to him, and that was a lie of omission.
“You wouldn’t have married me if you knew who I was.”
“Yes, I would have. If you had told me that you were the woman who saved me from the wreck, the one I fell for before I even opened my eyes… I was out looking for you when I was supposed to be meeting your niece.”
Hope fluttered in her chest, unexpected and unwelcome. Still, doubt gnawed at her. “If you knew you were marrying the sea witch instead, would you have hesitated?”
“If I knew I was marrying my true love, I wouldn’t have wasted a moment clothing and feeding you.” His voice was iron and certainty, cutting through the doubts in her chest like a blade. "I would've dragged you to the temple first."
“You're not angry with me?”
“I'm going to be angry for as long as the bruise on your tail fin lasts. But I'm no longer angry with you. Our fight is over.” His lips brushed against hers, slow, reverent, full of heat. “Now it’s time to make up.”
He kissed her. Not like before—not with restraint or hesitation—but like a man who’d nearly lost everything. His mouth claimed hers with aching precision, his hand rising to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing along her jaw.
"Wait. You're admitting that you were wrong?"
"No, you are very much at fault for this one, siren. You rigged the game. But you also saved the day."
Ursula curled into his heat. “That's something you should know about me. I don’t play fair—I play to win. A good queen doesn’t wait for the rules to favor her… she maneuvers the board until they do.”
“The queen is the most powerful piece on the board, but even she needs her king to clear a few pawns now and then. Speaking of pawns, two eel fellows requested to be employed here at the castle. They said they'd serviced you before."
"Two eels, you say?"
Eric nodded.
“Who serviced me? I have no idea who that could be."
Her husband slid his hand along her waist, fingers curling at her hip.
“I’ll always back your play, Ursula. Just promise me one thing.”
She would promise this man anything, everything. But she wouldn't tell him that. Not just yet. “What’s that?”
“That we stop playing on opposite sides.” His voice dropped, more vow than jest. “You and me—same team. Always. Let the rest of the world play catch-up.”
"Deal."
He kissed her again. Their mouths moved in rhythm, a dance like the tides. It was apology and promise. Anger and forgiveness. A war they both won and lost in equal measure.
Their lips parted, the taste of salt and something sweeter lingering between them. Ursula held his gaze. She traced a fingertip along his jaw, feeling the roughness of stubble against her touch, the warmth of him soaking into her skin.
“Were you serious?”
Eric's brow lifted in silent question.
“About helping me take back the Sea Kingdom.”
He shrugged, utterly at ease, his hands lazily drifting along her back, fingers skimming the ridges of her spine. “If that’s what you want. We haven’t signed the treaty yet. They don’t know where Ariel is—not that I need another bride. One siren is enough for me.”
“I don’t want the sea crown,” she admitted, surprising even herself. “Triton’s made a mess of things, and I’m tired of cleaning up after him.”
“Then what do you want?”
She took a breath, feeling the weight of her own truth settle in her chest. “I want a say in that treaty.”
The corners of Eric’s mouth curved upward, his grip tightening around her waist, pulling her into the solid heat of his body. “You can have any say you want,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against the damp skin of her temple. “I trust your judgment implicitly.”
“Even though I tricked you?”
His grin was slow, deliberate, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cool night air. He cupped her face, his thumb skimming the curve of her cheek, the edge of her lips.
“You know the saying, my love. Keep your enemies close. Keep your wickedly intelligent siren wife under you.”
All the tiredness left her body. She sank to the bottom of the pool and pulled her king on top of her.