His lips twitched. The crashing of waves did tend to echo off the smooth stone walls, but he hadn’t thought much of it since he was a boy listening to his brothers make up stories about leviathans roaring just outside, ready to swallow him whole. “You should hear the waves during a storm.”
She swiveled on her heel to send him a wide-eyed look. “Do huge waves come in here?”
“Sometimes, but mostly the waves are broken before they get this far into the cove.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes.” He tilted his head toward the inner part of the rock shelf, where a series of heavy iron rings and chains had been installed. “We don’t keep anything of value outside of the main chamber, just in case Tempest decides he wants it. My father used to tie up his boat here, but that’s it. Now I use the chain to help keep myself stable if I come in during a high tide day.”
Yet another reason our new cove is superior.He couldn’t imagine watching Clementine disembark from her submersible every day and know that there was a chance she might not get to the chain in time. He shuddered to imagine her being swept off her feet by a rogue wave and sucked out beyond the cove, where sharks and jagged rocks could end her life in a moment.
Unaware of the grim turn his thoughts had taken, Clementine picked her way around deep puddles to stand by his side. “Gotta say, this isn’t quite what I imagined your cove to look like. I thought it’d be a bit… homier.”
Affronted, Emory gave her backside a light swat. “This isnotthe cove! This is theentrance.Now walk, my mate, before I take more offense.”
ChapterEighteen
A laugh bubbledout of her, but she did as he told her. Using the chain as a handrail, she carefully picked her way over the slippery rock to reach the path that led into the stone corridor his father had expanded over the course of his life.
What once was little more than a hole in the wall had been dug out into a branching hive of hallways, rooms, and rainwater collection pools illuminated by first kerosene and then, much later, solar powered lights. As they walked down the main corridor, its stone floor polished to a high shine by centuries of merfolk bellies passing over its surface, Clementine marveled at the massive beams supporting the ceiling. Emory proudly explained that they were salvaged from wrecked ships by his mother, whose strength had been legendary.
Together, she and his father had worked hard to make the cove a comfortable, livable space for their family. Of course, Emory made his own modifications over the years, but he’d left the vast majority of the cove untouched.
That included the scratches and graffiti on the walls, denser closer to the floor and growing sparser as it crept upward. He could have easily polished the marks off. It never crossed his mind to do so.
The childish drawings, the jagged, shallow claw marks, and the clumsily scratched out names were a tribute to his family as it had once been — full and loud and warm.
Clementine’s fingertips skimmed over the marks as they walked. “So small… These look like kids made them.”
Guiding her around a bend that opened up into the main lounge area, he said, “My siblings and I were very creative with our claws.”
A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like trying to wrangle six Emory-like kids at once. Your parents were lucky you didn’t destroy the whole cove.”
“Probably.”
There was that familiar ache again, the old bruise of longing that pained him whenever he thought of pups. The idea of breeding stirred his blood and made his poor, abused cock pulse behind his slit, but it was the future he really wanted.
His throat was tight, but he did his best to give his mate the tour she’d longed for as he showed off the home he’d grown up in. She peppered him with questions about everything from the plumbing to where everyone slept to how they kept their food fresh. She was fascinated by the rainwater collection system and gasped at his mother’s masterful ropework, which was strung on every wall.
It was a joy to share so many memories with her, but it was painful, too. It was particularly difficult when they stopped by his parents’ nook — really more of a suite carved into the stone — which he had left completely untouched since they died.
“Oh.” Clementine didn’t pass over the threshold, but rather sank onto her knees at the entrance. Leaning into his side, she murmured, “It’s beautiful.”
It was.
His parents, like most merfolk, had taken great pride in their mating. Their nook was a testament to the years they’d spent together. Every wall was decorated with gifts they had given one another. Their bed, a nest of blankets and padding on the floor, was plush with textiles his mother had traded for. The pool in the corner, carefully lined with stones, still sparkled with fresh water diverted from the collection pools.
Not an inch of the space was without the patina of a life well-lived and a love cherished. Even after so many years, he could still smell his mother’s scent and hear his father’s stern voice echoing off of the walls, asking his scared pup if he’d like to join them in the nest for the night.
He remembered curling up in a pile with his siblings in those blankets. He remembered his mother’s calm voice as she braided his hair. He remembered his father installing shelves on the walls and singing an old shanty as he worked, one hand reaching back in a silent request for something from his precious chest of stolen or traded-for tools.
The air was so thick with memory that he almost couldn’t breathe it.
“Do you wish we lived here instead?” Clementine’s voice was soft, inquisitive. His heart, already aching, pained him again.
Emory wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her closer, until he could bury his face in her hair andbreatheagain. “No,” he rasped. “I thought I did, but now that you’re here… I think this cove has too many memories for me. I don’t want to be weighed down by grief when we start our life, my Clementine.”
“I get that. Sometimes starting a new life is hard, but it’s also the best choice.” Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. “But I want our home to feel like yours, too. I don’t know that I’ve done a great job of that so far.”
