Chapter Eleven
Night was falling when Austin hobbled stiffly down the long beach and sank into the ocean.
He saw little more than gloom and shadows when he dove, advancing until the weight above him was enough to settle his nerves.
Irritability and restless unease were slow to recede, but as he sat in the ocean breathing through his gills, reason crept over instinct and reaction.
He needed to get back to Ireland. The fever had stripped him of the little strength he’d recovered, but it wasn’t as if he had much choice anymore.
This place had been an unexpected respite, but Austin clearly couldn’t control himself enough for it to last. He tried to console himself with the fact that he’d finally met a merman who didn’t despise him on sight.
Tristan’s bright, interested gaze stuck in his mind like tar. Austin pulled free of it with effort.
He thought of the place where he’d hidden in the city of monsters months ago.
The hay loft above a stable, the smell of beasts, the voices of men.
Austin had taken on a nocturnal existence those few weeks, hiding from everyone bar the stable master.
In exchange for Austin’s lacklustre stable cleaning, the man left out food for him that was often ignored. He never stopped bringing it, though.
Tristan’s accusation of starving surfaced in his mind.
He was. He felt it, clawing not in his stomach but in his head, making it ache, fuelling everything in Austin’s mind he wished would go away.
Just as Austin resolved to set out, a shadow blocked out the moonlight.
He tilted back his head and peered through the gloom at Tristan swimming by overhead.
The merman circled, and Austin sensed rather than saw that he was being studied.
Austin looked away first. Just a minute, and he’d set out towards the Tear. He’d figure it out. Somehow.
Rather than coming toward him, Tristan circled back towards shore, retrieving rocks that the Troop had dumped into the ocean. He began to arrange them around Austin, kicking up sand into the current, clogging Austin’s gills.
Austin growled. He pushed off the seabed and propelled himself to the surface.
He’d just finished cleaning the sand from his gills when Tristan emerged next to him.
The urge to snap at the man rose and fell in quick succession.
Bright moonlight lit Tristan’s face in outline, but his features were indistinct.
“Did you get all the sand out?”
Inexplicably, Austin found himself blinking back tears.
Tristan moved closer, large tail bumping against Austin’s legs.
He nuzzled Austin’s cheek, letting out a soft, calm hum.
He folded a strong arm around Austin’s lower back and pulled him in, guiding Austin’s slack legs around his waist. He supported him with a hand under his bottom and then cupped the back of his head.
Austin tensed, but he sensed nothing sexual in Tristan’s touch.
He slowly folded around the warmth, reminded of how Liam felt in stolen moments.
Austin let his head drop to Tristan’s shoulder.
A lecture didn’t come. Nor did any question leave Tristan’s lips, though Austin was certain his outburst would have been reported by now. As Tristan waited, he carefully worked his fingers into Austin’s hair, warrior fingers managing not to snag on wet strands as he stroked.
Austin broke the silence. “I have a headache.”
The hand in Austin’s hair became very soft, fingers a ghost touch. “I will get you painkillers.”
“There’s something wrong with me.”
“You will settle. Being in a new territory is not easy, and”—the pause here alerted Austin that Tristan was choosing his words carefully—“though you are powerful, I am a dominant male and you are within my territory. Was the last time you were in another’s territory with your father?”
Austin frowned, considering the question. “I’ve kept to myself since him.”
Tristan made a sound like he had expected that to be his answer.
“Then being uneasy is only natural, but I promise it will fade eventually. It took years before I felt right after leaving the north.” His fingers dug lightly into Austin’s scalp, stroking him.
“Even with Hal so close by, every day I worried that something would separate us once more, and those worries persisted long after I had grown into my power. Long after they were rational to feel.”
A wave washed against Austin’s face, and with a grumble, he moved his head to Tristan’s other shoulder so it would touch the back of his head instead.
Tristan’s words were meant to soothe, but their situations were not the same.
“What I fear is rational. You’re not in danger of someone coming and taking you away from your brother anymore. ”
“And you can never be trapped again. Not with this.” He tapped lightly at Austin’s throat, indicating his voice box.
“I could be drugged, knocked out, I—” He pushed abruptly upright, legs still locked on Tristan’s waist, but hands flat on his chest and holding them apart. “I have spent almost a week here barely able to use my voice! You don’t even react to it!”
Tristan’s eyes caught and reflected the moonlight, showing him where to direct his glare. Austin gazed down at him, the few inches of height he had on the merman meaning more to him than he could put into words.
“You could very easily make me react to it,” Tristan said calmly. “But you haven’t tried. Go ahead now, if you like.”
Austin tried to push off him, but Tristan didn’t let go. Austin snarled. “The last time I used my power while touching someone, they went totally mad.”
“Why lessen your power? Drive me mad,” Tristan invited.
Austin’s glare worsened, but Tristan’s aura was all challenge. His touch confident. Inviting. Austin could easily imagine him facing down a court of rival mermen, and winning.
“I’m not exaggerating,” Austin snapped.
“I believe you,” Tristan replied. And madly, Austin really thought he did.
Austin’s arms began to shake as if he were struggling to fend off a wild beast, despite Tristan not pushing against his hands.
Austin blinked back tears again, these ones born of fury and fear.
Here was another shackle: Austin couldn’t bring himself to call upon that power.
Not while they were touching, not when it could leave someone so warped they were another person entirely.
Tristan’s head tilted to the side, and the merman softened. “I do feel your power when you wield it. It is…” He paused, considering. “A punishment and pleasure wrapped together, itching under my skin like a painful, exhilarating drug.”
Austin hadn’t spoken to people about what his voice felt like to them. He could read flinches and cringes well enough. Even with Gary, the teenager he’d caught by the wrist and breathed an obsession into, the effect was not a pleasant one: he did not enjoy Austin.
“Liam said my disapproval makes him want to jump off a cliff,” Austin choked out.
“Your power is immense.”
“But—does that mean my voice doesn’t make you want to—even when I’m angry?”
“It does not.”
“But it still hurts?”
“To a degree.”
Austin endured Tristan wiping the tears from his face with unbearable care. His actions were so honest, without pity, without judgement.
Austin raised one shaking hand and scrubbed at his own face, erasing the hot tracks tears had carved down his cheeks. “What reward should I have given?”
Tristan’s brow furrowed. “Reward?”
“For the winner of the competition. I was meant to give a reward, yes? What should I have given?”
“The household is to entertain you, not seek rewards. You were not meant to give anything.”
“But it was expected that I would give one after setting up the competition.”
“No,” Tristan said definitively.
Austin stared, his explosion on the porch rising to the forefront of his mind and turning his cheeks red with shame. “But if I didn’t, wouldn’t it have been a disappointment?”
“No,” Tristan repeated, no less sure.
Austin’s tears stopped. “Are you lying?”
“I am not.”
“I didn’t have to—” He stopped himself. Freak out.
“I assume it was your attendant who mentioned the reward? He’s not from here and is used to different customs. He was mistaken.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. This demand upset you? I can replace him.”
“No.”
Tristan hummed in soft, placating agreement.
Austin’s arms stopped trembling. “I’m hungry.”
???
Chagrined over his behaviour, Austin resolved to eat whatever Tristan brought. He perched in his chaise lounge on the porch, waiting with patience for Tristan to return. He kept an eye out, but he didn’t catch so much as a shadow of anyone from the Troop, or any staff.
He grimaced as he considered they were likely avoiding him, afraid after feeling what his voice could do to them. The thought should have stung more than it did. He was embarrassed enough by his outburst that he was glad not to have to face any of them.
The quiet of the night settled around him, and Austin felt oddly settled too, even in spite of his embarrassment.
Tristan entered the porch holding a plate, and Austin’s eyes widened as Tristan passed beneath the lit lantern and Austin saw the unmistakable cut of white bread from his own world. “You got some!” It was golden brown, yellow butter melting onto the toasted surface.
Tristan sat next to Austin, holding the toast out in offering. “This is the right kind?”
Austin hummed his confirmation, promptly grabbing a slice and devouring it, the sudden surge of appetite catching him off guard. Tristan’s eyes sharpened, snapping down to the plate that held two more slices.
Tristan set it down. “Just a moment,” he murmured.
Austin frowned at his quick departure but understood a few minutes later when Tristan returned with a platter stuffed with food. Austin rolled his eyes but picked up a cracker with cheese, meat and a succulent slice of fruit. He indicated the last slice of toast. “I saved that piece for you.”
He waited for Tristan to take a bite.