“What happened to make you extra grumpy?” she said.
I debated not telling her and letting her sleep, but I knew she wouldn’t thank me for it in the morning. More than that, it was her answers, and she deserved them more than anyone.
“Dilly found mention of being a daughter of the sea in the journal,” I said.
Before the words were out of my mouth, she was sitting up, her hair falling over bare shoulders and her camisole.
“Tell me,” she ordered.
My lips twitched at the authority in her voice. She’d come so far from the woman who whispered she was in charge when she was drowning in the chaos of her own making. Now I was never truly sure which of us was in charge.
“You were born under a Black Tide Moon in the North Sea. Apparently, the goddess of the sea there did something, and now you have a connection to the deep and the creatures within.”
I couldn’t have said what I expected, but she simply nodded and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.
“That’s–I don’t know what I expected, but I trust Dilly,” she said. “But why would the merrow have known about the bargain on my wrist and that my fate is drawn?”
“I don’t know, but we will find out,” I said.
She nodded and curled herself into me. I wrapped my arm around her, wishing I could protect her from whatever was happening. A few moments passed, and I pressed a kiss to her head.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I just kind of thought it would be something better than that. Like I’d have secret powers.” She said,
I snorted.
“Only you.”
Rose twisted in my arms, effectively climbing into my lap and stealing any words I had left.
Her grin was practically wicked. “So does that make me a goddess adjacent?”
“You always have been,” I said, my voice gravelly.
I ran my hand along her spine and memorized the way it made her shiver. I would rather sink to the bottom of the deep than ever be the reason she questioned her worth.
So I vowed to remind her over and over as long as it took.
Chapter thirty-two
Reunion
Rose
The Aloja are not predators of the sea, but its wardens.
They tend their islands as one might a body—guiding currents, quieting storms, and ensuring balance where land meets water.
But should an Aloja turn vengeful, no kraken, no leviathan, no abyssal horror rivals the devastation that follows.
For monsters destroy indiscriminately.
The Aloja remembers why.
—The Mysterious Deep: A Comprehensive Understanding
