70. Revelations
Lyra lay beside Odette, speaking into the early hours of the morning. The sun was rising outside when she had fallen silent. She had told her mother everything.
Every miserable second of her existence had led to this moment. And her mother listened, not once shying away from the darker parts of Lyra’s life.
From her killing that boy to poisoning the maid who turned over her books. Sneaking away from the castle for weeks until King Auris dragged her back in nets made of acid kelp that would melt away her flesh when she struggled too much.
The time he thought he could cut the power from her and had her strapped to a table as he cut perfect lines between her ribs that protected her heart.
She stabbed Marina with her sharp nails after she had touched her shell necklace to change the dressings after her torture.
All the cruel tendencies she was partial to after the treatment she had suffered under the king.
Odette had remained quiet or asked, “What else?” to keep Lyra talking.
She stroked her daughter’s auburn hair and pressed kisses into the crown of her head. It had probably felt like waking from a nightmare to set eyes on her infant daughter, who was now well into womanhood.
When Lyra had told her about her engagement to Drystan, Odette had stiffened. Lyra turned to look up into her mother’s eyes and saw the words written in them. Drystan’s father had been one of the mermen who had dragged Odette to the surface and left her there.
The very fate that Odette had begged not to include Lyra in was already in motion, and her mother had been trapped here, helpless.
“Father ordered me to kill him after we consummated our vows,” Lyra whispered.
“So that you would become the heir and no other mermen would rise and try to claim his title. It’s a smart move politically—but cruel. Rulers are meant to be challenged so that they may prove they are still worthy.”
Her mother spoke with such wisdom and humility that she could feel her heart aching. How different would her life have been if they hadn’t taken her away? Would she have become as kind as her?
“Why did you go to Atlantis in the first place?”
Odette seemed to slip back in time. A small smile graced her tired face.
“I craved an adventure.”
Lyra smiled. She had once felt the same.
“King Auris wasn’t as he is now. He was … charming and romantic.”
Bile burned the back of Lyra’s throat to hear her monstrous father spoken about in such a way.
“His wife had perished, and I was such a lost girl. We fit, in a strange way. Completed each other. He secured the throne and was at a loss for how to keep it. A single father of six daughters. It was such an enormous burden. And having been raised here, in an elvish court, I was no stranger to court politics and machinations. But he took my advice and twisted it. I thought we were building something stronger—better—together. When he held you in his arms, felt the power inside you—I lost everything that day.”
Guilt washed over Lyra like a rogue wave, pulling her down into its inescapable depths.
It had been her fault.
She had come into the world and ruined their lives.
Odette felt Lyra shift beside her and pulled her close.
“No, my daughter,” she breathed. “This was not of your doing. Not now—not ever. I failed you.”
Lyra shook her head, tears overflowing down her cheeks. “Why would you think that? He is the monster.”
Odette’s jaw clenched. “I should have seen the signs of his madness and left long before then. I thought his holding of something so innocent and pure would heal him and put an end to the sanctions he was implementing against mermaids.”
“You had no idea I would be born with such power,” Lyra argued.
“Even if you hadn’t been born with power, I still would have been bringing you into a realm ruled by a monster. I should have protected you first instead of believing my love for him would be enough. Will you forgive me?”
Lyra gripped her mother back, her head nestled against her neck.
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
Odette sighed, and Lyra could feel her mother’s strength waning.
“Get some rest. I will be here when you wake.”
Odette nodded, her eyes fluttered closed, and Lyra slid off the bed and onto her feet. She stumbled to the door, throwing one last look at her mother.
When she pulled the door open, she came face-to-face with Wilder. He sat against the opposite wall with one knee up, and his head rested back against the stone wall.
A comfortable, relaxed position by all outward appearances, but it was the look on his face—the devastation. He had heard her. Heard every word.
Lyra pulled the door closed behind her and then crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a look at him.
“No one likes an eavesdropper.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, and Lyra’s arms dropped to her sides as she stepped closer to him. He stood in one swift motion and wrapped her in his arms.
“I am so sorry. The pain I must have caused. The nightmares that I inflicted. I am sorry.”
Her arms were trapped to her sides, so even if she had wanted to, she couldn’t have held him back, and she had wanted to.
He let go a fraction and looked down at her. And that’s when she saw it.
The haunting horrors that weighed on him even now. He felt the same things she had.
“Walk with me,” Lyra breathed.
Wilder tilted his head and then looked out the window to the end of the hall.
“Don’t you need sleep?”
Lyra shook her head.
“I actually think I want to be close to the sea.”
Wilder nodded and grabbed her hand in his. Interlacing their fingers together felt natural, normal even. He led her down and out of the castle, which sat precariously on a cliff that overlooked the vast sea.
There were stairs carved down the cliff face. They took the steps one at a time. Mists from the tide had slicked the shale steps and made the descent treacherous.
Wilder didn’t let go of her for a second. When they reached the sandy bottom, Lyra inhaled, savoring the brine in the air.
The line between the sea and the land felt like the words of a sentence separated from one page of a book to the next; still the same sentence, but a great leap of space.
She walked closer to the shore, following the path that the water took to crawl closer. It was as if it were reaching for her. One wild thing recognizing another.
After a few hundred feet, she finally stopped and sat on the sand. The sky was the kind of clear blue she had always hoped it would be—the same shade as Wilder’s eyes. He sat beside her, and she leaned into his side.
They lounged together all morning while the sun rose. He didn’t prompt her to speak. He sat with her, making sure she had all the time and space she needed. The freckles on her nose had darkened, and a flush sat high on her cheeks.
Wilder looked darker, too. A deep olive tone was now apparent on his skin, and if she looked closely, she could see that his hair wasn’t purely dark. It was like a raven’s wing with a gleaming blue tone that highlighted his eyes. As beautiful as the sky.
He interlaced their fingers together again, and she sighed.
“I see you,” he said against her head. “I see all of you, and I am not disgusted by the parts you try to hide.”
Lyra gazed into his eyes.
“I see you too.”
He kissed her then, slow and thoroughly. It was a claiming, tying them together irrevocably. He tasted of freedom and the deepest, clearest waters. He felt like hers.
Wilder’s lips were soft and gentle as he wrapped a hand in her hair and tugged her to him. They broke apart and grinned at each other. He understood her, saw her, and accepted her. She had never felt like this before.
“I think I love you,” she whispered.
A breath slipped through his lips before he said, “I know I love you.”
The waves stopped crashing against the shore.
She slowly turned from Wilder’s gaze and stared at the ocean. Something wasn’t right. A prickle itched her palms, and a weight dropped in her stomach.
Wilder must have felt the change, too, because he rose to his feet.
A light started glowing past the incoming waves that had flattened and stilled.
“What is that?” Lyra asked, clambering to her feet beside him.
Wilder took a step closer to the water, but Lyra gripped his hand, halting him.
“Stop.”
He looked from her to the water and then back again.
“What is it?”
“They’re coming—for me.”