8. The Stolen Bride
We broke through the surface of the water, and I gasped for air. I couldn’t believe it. Somehow, I was still alive.
Ahead, under the light of the full moon, I saw their island. It was close now. I tried to swim toward it, but my muscles started to cramp. I might have fallen back below the waves if it weren’t for him.
Beside me, as he was catching his breath, he said, ”Stop trying to swim. You’ll drown. Just float on your back.”
Of course. I knew that. It was the first swimming lesson my sisters and I had ever gotten. Surrounded by ponds, rivers, ocean, and marsh, all three of us had learned to float as toddlers. Still, I was amazed at how easy it was to lose my head when my brain was foggy, and my muscles were tired. This was how people drowned.
I rested on my back, breathing hard, and staring up at the moonlight. Thanking the stars that I was alive to see their light.
Soon, we were surrounded by the pod of selkies once more.
”May we help?” one asked.
I was too tired to argue, so I just nodded.
A selkie pulled me onto her slick back, and I clung to her for dear life. Slowly, we glided across the waves. To my surprise, the island was visible just ahead. I had never seen it without its shroud of mist.
A few minutes later, the water became too shallow for the selkies. They began to shed their seal skins and transformed into beautiful, bare-breasted women. Their long hair drifted behind them as they waded through the waist-deep water.
My selkie was the last to transform, and when she did, I slid from her back and plunged back into the water. Two selkies grabbed my arms and helped me toward the shore. I turned my head and saw the fae man was close behind, walking along the top of the water with ease.
He grinned down at me. ”How’s the water?”
Despite the heat of the night air, the water here held a chill like a mountain stream. Absent-mindedly, I ran my hands up and down my arms, trying to keep warm.
”You’re cold,” cried the selkie on my left arm. ”How terrible. Won’t you take one of our seal skins? They’re awfully warm.”
The one of my right arm nodded emphatically. ”Oh, yes. I’d gladly let you have my seal skin. We can mate with humans, you know.”
I already knew that accepting (or stealing) a selkie’s skin was to bind myself to them for life. The last thing I needed was a second betrothed, so I shook my head as politely as I could manage. ”I’m afraid I’m already spoken for,” I said.
My fae captor snorted.
I hadn’t realized his hearing was quite so good. I frowned up at him. As if this entire situation weren’t his doing. Still, I supposed he hadn’t left me to drown. That was something.
Luckily, the selkies seemed unperturbed by my rejection. They continued to support me through the choppy waves. Instead, they moved on to my bridegroom with a giggle. ”What about you, King? Surely you deserve many women.”
He winked at her. ”A tempting offering, but I think just the one bride will do.”
Well, that was something at least. I wasn’t joining a harem of stolen brides.
With that, the two selkies dropped my arms and sunk back into the water. I stumbled, nearly face planting into the waves.
The fae man sank into the water a few feet and took purchase of my arm himself. ”Sulky selkies,” he muttered.
Not long after, we stepped onto the sandy beach of the isle, and he released my arm. My shift clung to my figure, and I was sure it was nearly transparent. I folded my arms across my chest. My wet hair fell loose down my back. I felt cold, frightened, and exposed.
But I had actually made it! I was on the island and somewhere my sister, Briar, was too. If I was lucky, I might be able to make my family whole once more.
We walked silently for several minutes before I noticed spectators—first, dancing orbs and fairy lights, then movement among the sea oats, and finally, crowds of seelie court fae like we saw in the marketplace. They were tall with pointed ears and beautiful, so beautiful. Their lives were tenfold our own. Why were they all here? Why were they watching us?
”What are you, some kind of prince?” I grumbled.
He looked down at me and grinned. ”Darling, I’m a king.”
I swallowed back my astonishment. His kind couldn’t lie, or so the stories said. In fact, hadn’t a selkie just called him king, too? I had assumed it was a nickname. But no, apparently, it was actually true.
My captor wasn’t just any fae–he was their king! A thrill of fear shot up my spine. This was so much worse than I had realized. Even while I was catastrophizing, a small part of my brain thought, Well, Father, you got your wish. I’m marrying royalty! Unwittingly, a laugh escaped my lips.
He looked down at me with a furrowed brow. ”Is something amusing?”
”Nothing at all,” I said quickly.
”What forked tongues you mortals possess to lie with such ease,” he said, not bothering to hide his disgust.
”Your kind deceive with equal measure, my king,” I spat back with venom. ”Let us not forget, if you had not concealed your identity and obfuscated your words, I wouldn’t be here at all!”
For a moment, he said nothing, and neither did I. We walked in icy silence as I hoped not to collapse. My muscles were shaking from fatigue. I had fought the water sprites with everything I had, trying to escape the cold, murky depths of the ocean and a watery grave.
Finally, he looked down at me and cocked an eyebrow as if daring me to reply. ”Any other faults you wish to lay at my door?”
I don’t know what came over me, but I grinned sweetly up at him. ”Do fae kings often neglect to provide their betrothed with an engagement ring, or does your kind marry so often you can’t be bothered?” Apparently, nearly drowning had made me reckless. I never spoke so freely at home, and I had been cautioned since childhood not to anger the fae.
But he wasn’t angry. He tilted back his head and started laughing. ”A ring? Really? You mortals are so traditional. Still, let no one say I am an inattentive husband.” He raised one hand into the air, and the sky darkened above us.
An ominous feeling fluttered in my stomach, and the little hairs on my arms stood straight up. I immediately regretted antagonizing him.
He jerked his hand downward, and lightning struck the sand just feet ahead of us.
I gasped and stumbled backward. My hand on my chest, I asked, ”What are you doing? Are you trying to kill us?”
He chuckled. ”My lightning won’t hurt you, and it certainly won’t hurt me.”
He stepped forward, knelt on the ground, and scooped up a smoldering lump of sand. He blew on it, and the charred sand drifted away, revealing the most beautiful piece of sea glass I had ever beheld.
”There,” he said, polishing it on the hem of his tunic. ”I’ll have the smiths set it. You can choose whatever precious metal you desire. Add gems, pearls, shells, anything you wish.”
He opened my hand, dropped the smooth glass in my palm, and wrapped his hand around mine. For a moment, he was quiet—devoid of his chuckles and bravado. He studied me, slowly and carefully.
I shivered.
”You’re cold,” he realized.
I was, but it wasn’t the reason I had shivered.
My eyes darted once more to our spectators, lining the sand dunes. The beach had narrowed, and they were even closer now.
In an effort to regain some sense of control, I said, ”I don’t suppose you have a cloak, your majesty?” I dripped as much condescension as possible into the last word. Anything to belie my true fear.
Of course, he noticed my eyes had drifted to the crowd. He made a small sound in the back of his throat, a kind of hmm.
Then, he swept me off the ground and into his arms. I let out a loud squeak of surprise but discovered I was instantly warmer. It was as if I were sitting by a fireside. A fae glamour, perhaps? In his warm, muscular arms, pressed against his hard chest with nothing but wet fabric to separate us, my reckless heart skipped a beat.
Together, we were the portrait of romantic bliss. He was the dashing bridegroom sweeping his bride across the threshold of our new home. There was only one little problem… Even if he had saved me from drowning, presented me with the most beautiful sea glass I had ever seen, and warmed me with his nice, toasty glamour, I still didn’t want to marry him. I hated the fae that had plagued my kingdom with storms and stolen my sister, and I hated him most of all. He had taken me from my family and my duty.
I glared up at him.
He grinned down at me, unfazed by the red hot coal of my hatred. Perhaps even enjoying it. Somehow, the effect reminded me of a mischievous, little boy. It made his stupid ears even pointier.
He whispered, far too close to my soft, rounded ear, ”Best to play the part, or you’ll raise their ire. After all, who wouldn’t want to marry the king?”
”I thought you said no harm would come to me,” I hissed back.
”Whilst I am with you,” he reminded, nipping at my earlobe.
I shivered. Whether from his words or his warm breath, I wasn’t sure.