“It was a long time ago,” my would-be-dance-partner replied casually. “I wasn’t even born then. Did you come from Sarnala with a merchant ship?”
“No. I’m not from Sarnala. Not a werewolf. I’m a human.”
“A human...” his voice dropped.
The smile slipped from his pretty face. His gaze fell on Kye, who rose from his rock behind me, and my potential dance partner froze in his spot.
“Unhand her,” the king growled.
“I’m...uh.” The poor lad jerked his arm away from me, but I grabbed his hand before he had a chance to retreat.
“I very much would like to dance,” I said, holding Kye’s glare firmly.
“You said you don’t know how,” the stranger reminded me, hopefully. He clearly regretted his offer now when faced with Kye’s wrath.
“But I’d like a chance to try,” I insisted, not moving my focus away from the king. “Or am I a prisoner and need to ask for permission for everything I do?”
Kye glowered at the man, then looked at me. He rotated his wrist, winding another loop of the beaded cord around his arm—a gesture that shortened the cord, reeling me in to him.
I raised my chin in silent challenge.
“Go ahead, do it,”I dared him in my mind.“Yank on the cord, Kye, pull me by the leash like a misbehaving pet, yell at me. Give me a better reason to hate you. Because I clearly don’t have enough. Hate would be so much more logical and far less confusing than whatever it is I’ve been feeling for you all this time.”
I waited and dreaded for his temper to snap, for him to manhandle me, now that he finally had the means to do so.
“What are you waiting for?” I dared him. “Yank on the leash. Bring me to heel.”
He worked his jaw, his diamond-sharp eyes hurling daggers. His hands fisted the beads so hard, if they were still of wood, he would’ve cracked them.
Then he moved his burning stare from me to the poor siren whose hand I’d trapped in mine.
“If even a single hair falls from her head,” he roared at the unwitting victim of our power battle. “I’ll have your flesh flayed from your bones strip by strip, then I will serve it with herbs and butter at my next dinner party.”
The man swallowed hard, probably cursing the moment when he’d decided to pay any attention to me at all. Unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed that Kye managed to keep his temper under control, I slipped the bead cord off my wrist, then tugged on the stranger’s hand.
“Don’t worry. He doesn’t throw dinner parties,” I said to him quietly as we walked toward the water’s edge. “Teach me how you move in the water like that.”
“You’ll need fins for that.” He pointed at his friends, who had their colorful fins already open on their calves.
Color was returning to his cheeks the farther from Kye we walked. His smile was gaining strength too.
“I’m Maren,” I said for what felt like the thousandth time that day. After several days spent with only Kye for a company, meeting so many new people felt exciting if a little overwhelming.
“I’m Evis.” He grinned. “Take off your shoes, Maren. Dancing is best done barefoot.”
In addition to singing coming from everywhere, a cheerful melody filled the air. A small music band was playing in the waves farther from the shore. I spotted a lute, a violin, and something that looked like a horn made from a long, spiraled seashell.
Holding my hand, Evis waded into the ocean about knee-deep and positioned us behind a tilted tree growing from the water. Upon a closer look, I realized it wasn’t a tree, but a crooked dead coral branch. Hollow inside, it served as a support for seaweed that grew through it. Mint and lavender colored ribbons of the seaweed had made their way out of the openings in the coral and now draped down it all the way back to the water. They swayed in the breeze like some festive decoration. Just like the people of Olathana who moved seamlessly between water and air, its plants also thrived in both environments.
“We’ll stay on this side of the coral,” Evis said, gesturing at his friends who were churning the ocean surf into a frenzy of white, foamy water on the other side. “I don’t want their fins to accidentally scratch you.”
“Thanks. I just learned today that the fins are dangerous.”
“They are. We learn not to hurt anyone by accident, but it’s best to keep away, especially since, you know...” he threw a cautious glance in Kye’s direction. “You’re a human.”
Barefoot now, I stopped to face him, and he gingerly put his hands on both sides of my waist. I seethed inside, angry with Kye for scaring my dance partner out of his wits. Evis didn’t open his fins at all, holding himself so stiffly, I feared he’d end up stepping on my foot or worse, refuse to dance with me altogether.
He bobbed his head to the cheerful music for a beat or two, then thankfully, seemed to cheer up a bit.
