Page 62 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

“Why?” I asked, looking up to meet his eyes. There were flecks of gold in them I hadn’t noticed before, and I could have studied them for hours if he hadn’t blinked and looked away.

“I’ve learned to act instinctively when injured,” he explained, again alluding to a history that he hadn’t told me yet. One that seemed to include childhood hurts. “I was worried that I might not be able to stop myself from lashing out if you touched me, and my plans required you to be unharmed.”

“What noble plans those were,” I teased, tracing the scar lower.

Caspian caught my hand, preventing me from further explanation. “Naughty,” he chastised with a nip to my ear. It made heat flood me, the memory of the previous night still fresh in my mind.

Caspian wanted me, and I didn’t see a good reason that we couldn’t enjoy ourselves while we were here. But clearly there was something more to sex in siren culture, and I didn’t want to push him away by demanding answers. Not until he was ready to give them.

“Who gave you this?” I asked, nodding to the scar. “You have some on your back, too. Was that Vitulus?”

“No,” he said, relaxing a fraction and letting my hand go. “Sirens wear scars with pride as a sign of victory in battle. Some of these are battle scars. Others are…” he paused, considering. “A different kind of victory.”

“What kind?” I asked, apparently unable to keep my nosiness to myself. It was strange, having someone answer all of my questions, but I could tell that Caspian was purposefully omitting things. Telling half-truths. I thought for a moment about using his own request that I tell him something real against him, but his face had gone cold and distant.

“That is a story for another day,” he said, putting me a step away. “Thank you,” he added, kissing my palm as he caught my hand. “For nursing me so expertly back to health.”

“Hardly,” I drawled. “You had better not reinjure those. I have a feeling we will be needing them.”

“Hence, the test flight.” Caspian grinned, bending his knees as if preparing to jump. “I promise I’ll try not to die.”

“What?” I spluttered.

But he was already in the air, a phantom wind blowing him upward. I stepped back, watching him beat them once with a triumphant whoop before returning gracefully to land.

“Well, that was a little anticlimactic,” I teased, rushing to check he hadn’t reinjured himself. “What was that, five feet?”

“Ten at least, Urchin,” Caspian corrected with a grin. “But it was a start. It will be a few days before I can go any distance, weeks before I can carry someone.”

“I suppose you’re stuck with me then,” I teased, smiling faintly as he smirked knowingly at me.

“A tragedy,” Caspian agreed, giving me a heated look. “But not for long.”

“A tragedy,” I agreed, knowing that our time together was slipping away with every day his wings grew stronger.

Caspian looked at me intently, as if trying to read my mind. “When they heal properly though, I’ll take you flying, Urchin.”

“Really?” I asked, excitement temporarily eclipsing the melancholy. “For a real flight, not just to escape an enraged kraken and crash land in the ocean?”

Caspian laughed. “A real flight,” he agreed. “No krakens this time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I warned as we headed up the path toward the kelpies’s stream, “I can be extremely stubborn when I want something.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Caspian quipped, throwing an arm around my shoulders and making me go a bit fuzzy inside. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Yourmatedoesnotlike me.

“Stop calling him that,” I snapped, glowering up at the kelpie who was pawing at the stream beneath his forehooves. Caspian was sprawled out prone next to me, sunning his wings as we waited for Rannoch’s herd. He scowled at the kelpie with general distrust, then turned his head to raise a brow at me in question. I sighed, having no desire to repeat the term the horse kept using aloud. “He’s a friend.”

Your friend does not like me, then,the kelpie said, his emphasis on the word ‘friend’ clearly suggesting that we were more than that.

I blushed, praying to all the seas that Ran couldn’t somehow see what we had done the night before. Caspian shot me a look, wanting me to translate, but I decided he didn’t need to hear Ran’s opinions on our relationship.

“Well to be fair, youdidtry to drown him, Ran,“ I replied. Caspian snorted, stretching his wings by gently fluttering them, brushing soft feathers against my arm in the process.

My name is Rannoch.The water horse tossed his mane irritably, and I gathered the water droplets into a ball before they hit me, dispersing them back in the stream. This trick had become necessary when speaking to the fae beast, who was prone to watery fits of temper.Not Ran.

I laughed at the pompous indignation of the water horse. “It’s a nickname,” I explained. “Like ‘Little Goddess.’ It’s what friends do.”