Page 74 of Heir of Broken Souls

It would feel like you weren’t whole anymore.

And I don’t know how to fix that, because nothing could ever be said or done to mend such a travesty.

Zephlyn lowers his head as if it weighs a thousand pounds, as if the very act of standing right now is a struggle. Aurora steps aside, her head nuzzling my shoulder gently as she purrs, sending wave after wave of her endless worry down the bond.

She, too, doesn’t know how to help her mate, it seems.

Picking up the grooming tools we stashed along the deck for them, I take the brush and slowly approach Zephlyn, not at all surprised when his blue eyes snap to mine, glowing with something akin to panic. He rises, backing away as quickly as he can, his back smashing into the risen wall blocking the wind.

I didn’t figure it’d work. Zephlyn hasn’t allowed anyone to groom him. Only Ace could do that. Swallowing my emotions, I turn to Aurora instead with the brush. The silky strands of her black fur flutter in the air, the ocean breeze picking it up and sprinkling Aurora’s coat along the sea. An image of the pod having hair rain down upon them brings a small smile to my lips.

Once I’m finished, I unwrap the slices of lamb Lenox prepared and lay them down for the griffins, leaving them to devour it in peace while also noting how slow Zephlyn eats, as if every bite, every day, is a struggle to function without his soul pair.

“I miss him too,” I say softly, my voice guttural. “I miss him too.”

Chapter27

Delilah

My body contorts when I hit the water. Pain explodes in every direction, my nose burning with water shoved in and down my throat. My chest constricts, and then arms are grabbing me.

And then I’m sputtering as high-pitched cackles surround me.

Flipping my hair off my face, I catch my breath as I squint through the mid-morning sun. Groaning, I let my head flop back and hit the water.

“Don’t even say it,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

Lifting my head, I find humor dancing along the mermaids’ faces, their eyes practically aglow with excitement as they watch me fail for the umpteenth time.

“Maybe try flapping them this time?” Amelia coos.

Maliah, one of the pink-tailed mermaids, grins. “Perhaps she wants to be one of us.”

“Don’t toy with your food, Maliah. It makes for a sour taste,” Kyla, Maliah’s twin teases.

“Stop comparing me to a fish,” I sputter.

“Maybe if you stop falling into the water, they will,” Naia practically purrs.

Amidst it all, I dutifully ignore Soleil and Isla’s—the former whose tail is a gorgeous aqua color and the latter who opposes her friend with a light sage green tail—pokes and jabs about how I’m a Fae who can’t fly. I wave my hand at Naia, whose white hair seems to glow this morning. “Can you just hurry up and get me out?”

With a slow gesture of her hand, she smiles. “Of course.”

And then a current, called forth by Naia’s whispered words, wraps around my legs. Despite this being our norm for the past three hours, I still can’t help but suck in a sharp breath as I’m lifted high in the air by what I can only describe as a tail of water. It’s not natural, far from it, crafted and molded from Naia’s hands. The wave of water gently deposits me back down onto the top deck where an amused Knox greets me.

Despite his cocky gaze, I can’t help but smile. He truly is the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on. And he’s never looked as sexy as he does now with his white dress shirt rolled at his forearms, the top buttons undone, his raven-black hair tousled by his fingers and the ocean breeze, as if the sea can’t help but caress him.

We’ve only been aboard this ship two days and already his skin is sun-kissed, warm and golden. He holds out a hand and my heart takes flight, adrenaline coursing through my body not from plunging forty feet in the air to the lapping water below but from the warmth that encases my body as Knox slides his calloused hands against mine and pulls me to stand.

The mating bond between us grows taut, pulling so tight I’m surprised it hasn’t snapped from the tension and fiery passion dancing along its tether. Knox opens his mouth, probably to scold the mermaids, when a different voice snaps us out of the moment.

“One hundred and thirty-two times.” Harlow claps slowly. “I’ll be damned, I didn’t think learning to fly would look as miserable as this.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn to the witch-Fae. “In my defense, I didn’t even know I had wings until recently.”

Knox’s soft voice fills the space. “Ignore her, it’s natural for you to be afraid?—”

“I’m not afraid!”