Page 22 of Hymn of Breath and Bone

“I am not accepting that as a new nickname unless you’re less than four feet tall,” I replied, trying to hide my smile.

“Urchin, then,” Caspian grinned, gripping me around the waist and planting a kiss on my mouth that made the children giggle and groan in disgust.

Caspian launched into the sky and carried me through the ceiling, the children waving and shouting at us in farewell.

“There’s no hope for me, is there?” I teased, brushing his hair back as the wind tossed it around.

“Hope for what?” he asked, raising a brow at me as he turned in the air.

“You sing, you play, you can carry me while flying,andyou’re good with children,” I pointed out. “I never had any hope of resisting you, did I?”

Caspian laughed, angling us downward as he murmured in my ear, “None at all, Urchin.”

My stomach swooped as he dove, skimming close enough to the ocean that my toes touched the cold water. I almost heard the sea croon her ‘hello’ to me, like a friend who had been absent for too long. My legs itched with the desire to shift as I clung to Caspian’s neck.

Seeing the children had made me acutely aware of what the sirens had to lose if we couldn’t convince my father to reunite our peoples. None of the children seemed hungry or sick, but a few of the older patients in the healing wing had looked rather frail, and Caspian had told me that it was the winter months that were the hardest. Based on the bite in the air, winterwasn’t far away, and the idea of those children starving through the harder months made my gut squirm unhappily.

“You alright?” Caspian asked, sensing my shift in mood either through the bond or by my restless wriggling.

“Just missing the ocean,” I said—a half-truth, but I needed time to sort out all of my thoughts before discussing them.

He grinned again. “Oh, we can fix that. Deep breath.”

One moment we were hovering in midair, and the next we were diving into the sea’s frigid embrace.

In a move that was annoyingly graceful, Caspian dove in an arc beneath the water. I felt my legs transform into my selkie tail as we emerged again, his wings showering us both with cold water.

“You absolute wretch!” I hollered, splashing him with my tail in retribution as he laughed.

“Pompous seagull is more accurate, I think,” he replied, diving again as he held me close.

He had been too injured to swim properly when we were marooned on the island, but I had to admit, he was a good swimmer. He was strong and confident in the water, and he knew how to angle his wings to decrease the resistance of the sea as it pressed in on him.

I shrieked as we crested again in a move that definitely took more magic than muscle. A phantom gust caught his wings and launched us upward.

“Feathery ass,” I hissed, lamenting over my sodden gown that revealed far more skin than would be appropriate in front of his people. My nipples peaked with the cold, and from the shifting of Caspian’s body against mine and the rush of desire that flooded us both, he saw and admired them.

“Not feathery,” he reminded me, dipping slightly as I shifted my tail back into legs and caught him off guard. He laughed and kissed me, flying us back toward his room—our rooms—as his voice dropped to a purr. “And I’ll gladly prove it to you as soon as you’re well enough to keep up with me.”

Alas, it was not to be that moment. As soon as we landed and shut the wind out with the hidden curtain, a frantic knock sounded on his outer door.

“Go change,” he suggested, kissing me again. “You’re shivering.”

“Oh, I wonder whose faultthatis?” I said in mock surprise, earning a pinch on my backside and a look so heated that I almost felt the chill leave me right there.

Damn the head injury. I could manage.

Another knock had Caspian growling as he prowled to the door, and I slipped into the bedroom to change. When I emerged in a loose-fitting dry gown and warm seal-skin wrap—no nipples in sight—Caspian was waiting with his arms crossed in the door.

“Duty calls, Urchin,” he announced, scooping me up and getting my dry skirts wet with his still-damp embrace. My cry of protest was lost as he launched us back into the sky and down, down, down toward the hidden cove where his ships were docked.

“What in the seas is this duty?” I asked, breathless as he alighted on the rocks below and carefully placed me next to him so I wouldn’t slip. It was windy, and my gown and hair flew about me, the sea eagerly lapping at my feet.

In an instant, I felt the wind still, and I knew Caspian had reached out his magic to soothe the gusts. I followed suit, calming the seas enough that our duty became suddenly clear and corporeal.

Ah, little goddess, came a watery voice I remembered and honestly hadn’t expected to hear again so soon.I thought we were friends.

Chapter 9