Chapter 16
Cassius
I carry her until the stones scrape my feet and the water is only at my knees. It’s strange. I should be focused on my pain. On my bruises and cuts and the fact that that merman rearranged my insides, but instead, all I can focus on is her. I want her so badly it makes my teeth ache.
She’s half-naked, wet, the thin clothes she’s wearing practically see-through, and covered in bruises and scrapes from the chain and the fight. She looks at me with a face that says don’t you dare let go. So I don’t.
Not that I want to.
I stumble, and she shifts in my arms, my erection pressing into her for just a minute before I readjust her. Her whole body goes tense, but then she laughs, a quick exhale that’s more nervous than amused.
“Sorry,” I say. My voice is shot. “It’s just—”
She interrupts, “It’s fine.” But she’s so red it almost makes me laugh, too.
I let her down onto some smooth rocks. She sits, legs drawn up, and wraps her arms around her knees.
For a second, I think she’s going to cry, but instead she just stares at the water, breathing hard.
Not that I blame her for feeling shocked after what just happened.
Mermen are terrifying creatures, rare, but awful, even to the fae.
“You okay?” And I don’t know if I’m asking about the merman or our kiss.
She nods, but she doesn’t look okay.
I want to say something. I want to tell her that I’ve never felt anything like this before, that I would drown a hundred more monsters if it meant I could kiss her again. But the words stick. Which is a surprise. Previously, I would’ve said one of my strengths was being good with words.
Then her gaze moves to my erection again, and her cheeks turn red once more.
Fuck. Go down, damn you!
I try to will myself soft, but it’s a losing battle. So I sink back into the lake, just deep enough to hide my shame, and try not to watch the way she smooths her hair back, the way her chest rises and falls, the way every inch of her skin is alive with what just happened.
I close my eyes, but it doesn’t help. All I see is her.
After a minute, I look up and see the others.
Ashton, Oberon, Sylvian. They’re running down the shore towards us in nothing but their boxers, and I’m pretty sure they’ve been diving in the lake, searching for us, ever since the attack.
Ashton is the first to come forward. His chest is covered in mud, but his eyes are on Alette, sharp and bright.
“You okay?” he says, low, like it’s just for her.
She nods again, not looking at him.
Sylvian is next. He walks straight up to Alette, kneels in front of her, and cups her face in his hands. He looks at the cuts on her cheek, the dirt in her hair. “Did it hurt you?” he asks.
She shakes her head.
Oberon hangs back, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He looks pissed, but not at her. At the situation. That someone he cared about was in danger, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
Sylvian pulls her into a hug, then lets her go, standing up with a kind of easy grace I’ll never have. Ashton crouches beside Alette, says something I can’t hear, then rests a hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch.
I feel like an intruder. This feeling I have with Alette… it might only go one way. I’ve seen the way the others look at her. If she has a choice between us, I know she won’t pick me.
Which is a bit depressing. I’ve never had much competition for women. Not that I’ve wanted many.
I stay in the water until my body calms down, until I can stand up without embarrassing myself. Then I wade out, grab my clothes from where they’re drying on a rock, and pretend not to notice the way the others look at me.
Oberon is the one who breaks the silence. “Well,” he grunts. “You survived.”
“Barely,” I say.
He looks at the cuts on my arms, the marks that I’m sure are brutal on my neck. “What happened down there?”
I tell them. About the house, the chain, the merman, the fight.
I leave out the parts that belong to Alette, her fear, her panic, the way she never gave up even when it was hopeless.
I don’t know why, but it feels like hers.
I want to keep it safe. And I don’t hesitate to tell them who delivered the final blow.
They need to know the strength the little human in front of them has.
When I finish, there’s a pause, then, “We knew you were tough,” Sylvian teases Alette. “Not murderer tough, but tough.”
Then Ashton whistles low. “She doesn’t surprise me. Him though? Didn’t know you had it in you.”
I shrug. “I’m King of the Water Fae. The water is my domain.” But for some reason I want to say, “Alette is mine to protect.”
Sylvian claps me on the shoulder. “You did good, Cassius.”
It’s the first time he’s used my name without sarcasm.
Oberon looks away, but I see the grudging respect in his posture.
They don’t say it, but it’s there. A growing mutual respect that’s been developing between the four of us since we started this little adventure. It’s like a tangible thing, something that will leave an echo within us even when we return to our royal lives.
Alette gets up and walks over to me. She’s shivering, arms wrapped around her chest. She looks at the ground, then at my face.
“Thank you,” she says.
I want to say something clever, something that’ll make her smile, but all I manage is, “Anytime.”
She stands there, looking at me, and I swear I see something in her eyes.
It’s not fear or relief. Instead, I see something closer to what I feel, which scares me.
It’s a tugging from her to me, a desire to hold one another and never let her go, and I hope I’m not crazy for thinking I see my own feelings in her too.
Ashton comes over and stands at her side. “We should go,” he says softly.
I nod.
They gather all their clothes, shoes, and bags, including Alette’s, and then we walk together, the five of us, up from the lake and back onto the path in the hedges.
I keep close to Alette, just in case, but she doesn’t need my help.
She’s safe now. From all of it. And it’s hard to resent the others when I know she’s safer with the four of us.
She glances at me, and her hand brushes mine. I catch it, just for a second, before letting go.
I walk with the others, but for the first time I don’t feel alone. I feel… something else. A feeling that’s frighteningly close to love.
She goes around the curve of the hedge, clearly to get dressed.
The others are all pretending not to want to watch, but I can tell they’re dying to look.
Even Oberon, who’s usually above such things, has his ears cocked for the sound of her footsteps on the gravel.
Sylvian hums a dirty tune just loud enough to make Ashton scowl.
Ashton himself has the decency to glare at the horizon, but he sneaks glances whenever he thinks we’re not looking.
“Might as well get dressed,” I say.
It’s funny. I can see it in their faces. They never even considered that.
The three men start changing, while I keep my eyes on the ground, but my mind is busy.
I’m thinking about the way her skin looked underwater, how every bruise and scrape is proof of what we survived.
I’m thinking about how the last thing I tasted before I surfaced was her mouth.
I’m thinking about what it would be like to have her, really have her, somewhere warm and safe, not just in the panic of escape.
I’m trying not to think about what happens when this is over, who she’ll choose, if she gets to choose.
She comes back around the hedge in her leather clothes and blushes when she sees the men dressing. “Uh—sorry.”
“We’re almost done,” Ashton says, flashing her a flirtatious smile.
I really need to punch that guy.
Sylvian, who is never shy, turns around and grins at her, hair still dripping onto his shoulders. “You clean up nicely, Alette.”
She blushes, but it’s a good blush, the kind that says she’s not feeling humiliated. “I need my socks and shoes. You guys brought my bag?”
Oberon gestures at the pile. “Sylvian carried it.”
She nods, then drops to her knees and starts rummaging for socks. For a second, nobody says anything, but the silence isn’t awkward. It’s almost restful.
She turns to me, her face serious. “Thank you again, Cassius. For saving me. I really am very grateful.”
I want to say something smart, something to make her laugh, but I say, “It was nothing. You’re the Chosen One. We can’t do this without you.”
She makes a face, like she’s just bitten into a lemon. “That’s not—” she starts, then shakes her head. “Never mind.” She pulls her socks and boots on, then sits there, staring at the laces for a long time.
I wish I could take it back. I wish I could tell her what I meant. That I would have saved her even if she was nobody, even if there was nothing to gain. But by the time I figure out how to say it, she’s already tying off the last knot.
It’s late, and nobody wants to talk about what happens next, so we start making camp. It’s the first time nobody complains about who does what. Everyone goes to gather firewood, hoping to get enough to last through the night, while I go to fill our flasks with water.
As evening settles in, the wind is sharp and cold, but the sun is just enough to make it almost pleasant. The world looks different now, like the edges are less sharp. Maybe it’s the light, or maybe it’s the fact that for the first time in my life, I’m not alone.
When I come back, Sylvian has built a pyramid of sticks, and Oberon is looking at it with annoyance.
Probably because he only needs a flick of the wrist to start a blazing fire, so Sylvian is just wasting time.
Alette is arranging stones just so to make a fire pit, and when I hand her more stones, she gives me a sweet smile that makes my heart beat faster.
The five of us gather around the fire and then Oberon snaps his finger and a blaze sparks to life. Everyone jumps back just a little, and Oberon grins.