I wept until I couldn’t weep anymore, and as the tears subsided, the pain gave way to the sensation of my lips brushing the merman’s neck, my hands in his hair, his chiseled body against mine.
I pressed my mouth into his clavicle, and he responded to my kisses with a soft moan, moving his hands from my lower back to rest upon the curves of my scaled ass. Our mouths found each other, and our tongues clashed in a fiery embrace as I transferred all the hurt and confusion I had been feeling into the kiss.
I pulled back and met Alexandros’s hungry gaze. His lips were swollen from the urgency of mine, his indigo tresses drifting around his face.
“Wait.” I pressed my palm into his chest with force as my stomach twisted. “Are we... related?”
He chuckled and toyed with a strand of my hair, sending a tingle through my spine. “The Agápe line is ancient and broad, more like a tribal identity than a literal bloodline. So no, we are not related.”
I released a relieved breath, my thoughts returning to Alexandros’s sensuous mouth and his twelve-pack flexing each time he flicked his fins.
“How do we...?” I swallowed as I dragged my gaze across his abs to his tail.
He placed a webbed finger against my lips as if to say,Relax, don’t speak. I will show you, as he glided his other hand down to meet mine, guiding it to his scaled tail just below his defined stomach, where hismanhood would have been had he been human. Pressing my hand into the space, he emitted a gravelly moan, and I understood.
I pushed harder and faster, stroking the place like I would have handled the length of him if he were a man, and his tail stiffened beneath my touch. At the same time, he reached between my legs, where my womanhood remained. His fingers caressed me there, and I arched with the pleasure of it all.
Our bodies came together, and his hand slid through my hair, angling my head up so he could kiss me again. I gasped as his lips moved over my neck, dragging his open mouth down to wrap his tongue around my nipples, peaking beneath the scales.
Head tipped back, I groaned as he nipped, cupped, and sucked my heavy and aching breasts. At the same time, his thumb circled my sensitive area, while his other fingers dipped inside. All the while, I continued stroking him the way he had shown me.
No one had ever touched me like this, with such adoration and attention to my needs. I gave in to the feeling, my pleasure growing as the merman’s breathing grew increasingly ragged.
Pulling back from me, he whispered “Bella” as his eyes roamed over my face.
He kept his fingers inside me, and the noises I was making alerted him that I was close. He threw his head back, his chest muscles tightening, and a low groan escaped him as if seeing the look of ecstasy on my face was breaking him. I stroked his tail harder and faster.
He grunted beneath my touch, and I moaned with him as the pleasure encompassed my entire body, shooting from between my thighs to my arms and neck to engulf me in the heightened sensation.
The ocean around us felt so still afterward, like an explosion had stopped the world for a moment.
I exhaled, shaking my head. “That was—”
A devilish grin split Alexandros’s face, and he caressed my cheek. “It is a cure for the sadness, is it not, bella?”
25
Morgana
The dream ceremony was to be held in the sacred temple of Thálassa’s Kingdom. The space was ancient and magical, steeped in an energy that vibrated against my bones.
At the temple’s center lay a circular platform of white marble, and the area was hemmed in by stone columns that rose like pale tree trunks toward the structure’s roof, each wrapped in bioluminescent sea vines.
Finn and I were guided in separately by finely cloaked Mer priestesses with silver-painted lips, and I was glad of this. I’d held a dagger at the throat of the most dangerous and erratic Mer prince in the Seven Kingdoms. So, no, I didn’t exactly feel like being alone with him.
Finn hadn’t wanted me to receive the dream, whether for fear of losing me or fear I’d uncover the prophecy before him and his family—maybe both. But none of that mattered now. Once I had my dream, I’d never have to see him again.
Statues of the old gods lined the sandy floor around the platform, and I turned in place, letting my gaze roam over them. Behind me, Poseidonemerged from the crest of a marble wave, power etched into every line of his stance. Agápe swooned beside him, her Siren form immortalized, with vacant eyes and wings splayed. Síocháin, carved from the same pale stone, swam alongside her in the shape of a seal.
On the opposite side loomed Cetus, the sea monster’s tentacles stretching across the floor, their stone weatherworn and dusted with sand. And there, beside him, stood Manannán, the Drowned God. I recognized him immediately—it was the likeness of the Minoan sailor from my visions.
The Mer priestess behind me silently instructed me to kneel before one of the four low stone basins filled with mirrorlike water at the center of the marble circle. Across from me, Finn leaned over his own bowl, propped on his elbows, tattooed muscles flexing as his tail swished behind him.
We were positioned directly across from one another, but my gaze kept returning to the statue of the Drowned God behind Finn. It felt almost like I’d begun to know Manannán.
Queen Peisinoe appeared before us, crowned with a headdress of coral and green glass beads. A translucent cloak—identical to those worn by her priestesses—floated around her shoulders. Her silver lips gleamed in the light flowing into the temple from strategically placed openings. Unlike the priestesses, who kept theirs on, Peisinoe had thrown her hood back to conduct the ceremony.
The rest of the royal court and our companions were not permitted inside, as this ritual was sacred.
