Chapter 16

Rose

T he field before me was littered with bodies, the once beautiful view of Five Islands Point ravaged by a recently ended battle. The coppery tang of blood filled my nose, the carnage of the battlefield around me barely registering as vacant, lifeless eyes stared at me.

Will.

Milo.

Violet.

Jesse.

Callie.

Ava, Aira, Declan, Iris, Levi, Gavin, Tomas, Adrian, Aeden, Corvin… all the people I loved. All the people I cared about and so many, many more. Dead.

Bitter tears ran hot streaks down my cheeks as I shredded my throat with screams, the very ground trembling beneath my feet. Joseph had killed them. He'd made me watch as he snuffed out their lives in acts of such senseless and malicious violence I could barely comprehend it. All to ensure I suffered.

I thrashed against my bonds and the mermen preventing me from going to the ones I loved, preventing me from finally sinking my claws into that filthy bastard's flesh and ripping his heart out like he'd done to Eli and me. The rough enchanted rope chafed the sensitive skin of my wrists, blood dripping down my arms, as I screamed and snarled and gnashed my teeth. The grief turned me half feral, and my inability to exact my vengeance pushed me toward losing myself completely.

The object of my revenge stood next to his ex-wife, Noemie, his arm sweeping out toward the other four islands like he was doing some grand reveal, uncaring that I still drew breath. "See, Noemie? I've made the perfect world for you and our girls. It's safe here."

The mermaid at his side said nothing. She simply looked where he pointed like a marionette. It was as if neither could hear me as I cried out.

"There's one last thing I need to do to ensure that all this is ours, my love. I want you to witness it, so you know how much I love you, and to prove to you that I'm committed to you and the girls' safety. Watch as I ensure this will be our forever home," he continued to a still-silent Noemie.

With a grand flourish, they turned to me, but only Joseph walked forward. He didn't bother to take care not to disturb the bodies, instead choosing to desecrate them further by stepping on them as if they were merely dirt beneath his feet. The crunch and snap of bones rang out like gunshots, louder than even my screams. When he paid extra mind to shatter Milo's skull, my legs went out from under me, but I was kept standing by the rough arms holding me in place.

My beautiful selkie's face… destroyed… no more…

I wailed, my heart shattering into a million pieces.

"You're a hard woman to keep track of, Rose Sutton." He used my mother's maiden name, as most on the islands did to honor my family's place there. A place that no longer existed. Not after today.

I could barely breathe past the sobs wracking my chest, but I managed to force out a ragged, "Why?"

He laughed. "Oh, you stupid little bitch. You know exactly why I've done this. Had you told me where the talisman was and fucked off with the humans like you were supposed to, none of this would have happened. Their blood is on your hands."

The audacity of this man helped me find my voice. I screamed at him, "No! None of this is my fault! I should've killed you when I had the chance!"

"But you didn't, because you're soft hearted and weak. But look where that got you. Look at what your compassion wrought." His hand shot out and tangled in my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to look up at him. I barely had enough time to close my eyes to keep him out of my mind before he spoke again, pressing his power against me in an attempt to gain entry. "All you need to do is tell me where the talisman is, and I shall end your miserable little life quickly so you can be with the rest of your people."

"I will never, ever tell you that."

"That was the wrong answer, Rose."

Without warning, his other hand punched into my stomach, splitting my flesh with a wet squelch. My eyes flew open. All the air in my lungs whooshed out of me as he drove his hand up behind my ribcage to grip my still-beating heart in his hand.

"What you fail to realize, time and time again, is that you will never win," he whispered, leaning in so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear. "Tell me where it is."

For every second that ticked by in silence, he squeezed my heart that much tighter. My body struggled under the strain, desperate for oxygen, for blood, for relief that never came. That would never come.

It would be so simple to ease my torment, to just tell him what I knew. Black spots dotted my vision, unconsciousness threatening to overtake me. If I passed out, he could rummage through my mind. He was so close to overtaking my mind as it was, without me even looking into his eyes. So I fought him, my last stand as the world around me dimmed.

"Tell me where it is, Rose," he demanded, raising his voice as compulsion laced his words. "Where. The fuck. Is. It? WHERE IS THE TALISMAN, ROSE?"

My vision tunneled as he repeated his question again and again and again and again…

"Rose?"

A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders roughly and shook me, shattering the dream and scattering the remnants to the wind. I gasped, throwing myself back, but the strength in those fingers, in those arms, never faltered. When I couldn't break free, I fought, hitting my attacker however, wherever, I could.

"Rose! It's me, Will! It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you."

I blinked rapidly, trying to orient myself and shove the terror within me down far enough to see if I was still in Joseph's thrall. I stared up at the man keeping me from freedom. Realization slowly came over me as my bleary eyes and half-panicked mind recognized the merman grasping me.

Will. It was Will who'd grabbed me. He wore nothing but pajama pants and moonlight, the broad expanse of his muscled chest bare and bathed in a gentle glow, the shadows softening the edges of him. The ocean of his eyes churned with concern as he searched my face for any hint of what was happening to me.

I didn't get a chance to answer him, to tell him it was just a dream, because his father's voice filled the house again. His words hit me like his claws spearing my brain, and I had no choice but to go along with what he said.

"Rose! Come here now!" Joseph all but screamed in his terrifying, disembodied voice.

At first, my body lurched forward to do as I was told, to go to Golden Castle to be interrogated about where the talisman was. But that movement sent me straight into Will, the front of me flush against his bare chest. My hands shot up as if to catch myself, connecting with the hard planes of his abs.

The symbol on Will's chest glowed bright, and, for reasons I didn't quite understand, I leaned forward to rest my forehead against it. The contact with his skin, with that mark, sent a rush of warmth from me, that pull I always felt near him soothed by his nearness. It, along with a wash of Will's power, chased away the compulsion completely, ensuring Joseph's voice no longer plagued me.

For a long moment, I let myself stay in Will's embrace, almost boneless. He had wrapped his arms around me, giving me more skin contact.

"You were dead," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "You were dead. Milo was dead. Vi was dead. Everyone I love was dead. He killed them."

"It was a dream. He didn't harm any of us," he replied gently.

"But he could, and he will! He'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants and to hurt me as much as possible! All because he wants the talisman!" I broke into sobs, my breath becoming quick and shallow as panic sank its teeth in deep.

"You're safe. I swear you are," he said, running his hand over my hair as I cried. "Breathe with me, Rose. Breathe."

I let him guide me, counting each inhale, hold, and exhale of air. He gently pressed my ear against his chest so I could hear the calm, steady beat of his heart. For several long moments, that was all we did, and with each round of breath, the dream and Joseph's influence faded until they were nothing more than a fuzzy memory. Even after I'd collected myself, we didn't move apart. I couldn't seem to make myself, not when his arms were what kept me together and upright.

"You're always saving me," I whispered, finally gathering myself enough to look up at him.

"Not always," he murmured in reply. Such guilt and shame laced his words, and my heart twisted. "Why don't I get you something warm to drink? It will help with the aftereffects of freeing yourself from compulsion." He unwound his arms from me but paused before he stepped away. Already, I mourned the loss of his touch. "Do you like hot chocolate?"

"Oh, um, yes. Especially with a little peppermint schnapps. If I'm being real naughty, I like a little white chocolate liqueur in there, too." My tone was a little too light for what had just happened, but it seemed to make Will feel better as he cracked a bit of a smile.

"I'll see what the seal has in his cabinets," he replied.

Then he stepped away from me fully, and the overwhelming feeling of bereftness flooded me. A tiny part of me cried out for him, asking me why I would let him go. Wondering if the rest of my long life was going to be watching him from afar and never having him in my arms again, not really. But as soon as I realized what that rebellious part of me wanted, I quashed it.

You have a mate! I chastised myself. A mate! Stop wanting more than what you've been given! It's… it's not right

Yet that feeling never left me. It wrapped me in its tendrils, keening for a man I'd never get to have again. It yearned to find a way to bridge the gulf between us. Even with what Milo had said about having others in our relationship, in no world would that ever be possible. I couldn't imagine my mate being happy with my ex , no matter how nicely they got along now, and moreover, there was no way I could ever be involved with more than one man. It was too much. It was too weird.

Yet my heart still desired that which I could never have.

I pushed that hopeless, wretched feeling down and followed him into the kitchen, where I just stood stupidly and watched him as he rifled through Milo's cabinets for something for me to drink as if he knew exactly what he was looking for and where it should be. It took no time at all for him to find the hot chocolate mix and the alcohol—somehow Milo had both the peppermint schnapps and the white chocolate liqueur, much to my surprise—and within minutes, there was milk warming up in a saucepan on the stove.

It took only ten minutes before the hot chocolate was prepared, and Will ushered me to sit down at the table before he placed my jumbo-sized mug in front of me. I wrapped my hands around the porcelain, letting the warmth seep into my skin. After a few careful sips, I lifted my eyes back to Will, who now sat across from me, his attention turned to the front window.

"What just happened?" I asked, a near whisper.

"My father is calling out for you. I think he knows where you are now. He's directing all his energy toward Mariana to get you to come to him," he replied, then sighed.

"I don't think I understand."

He turned away from the window to level those ocean eyes at me. The weight of his gaze pierced me, as if he were looking into my soul rather than simply seeing my body. I shivered, feeling every bit of his attention on me.

"Every night, my father uses his power to call out across the ocean to bring more merfolk to him," he started. "Recently, it's been focused on you, though. He really wants to get his hands on you."

"He wants the talisman, and he doesn't believe my lie about what happened to it," I replied.

"I figured as much." He sighed, soul-weary. "I've done my best to fortify the house against him, but I think I will need to do it again but with you specifically in mind." He took a sip of his own hot chocolate, brow knit. "He's exploiting your vulnerabilities. He knows you can't defend yourself against him and likely thinks that you don't have anyone to teach you how to use your magic."

"Am I more vulnerable right now?" I feared the answer, but it was unavoidable if I wanted to keep myself safe.

"Unfortunately, yes. Without knowing how to protect your mind from him, being this close to him means he, at any point, could enter your mind and your dreams like he did tonight." Each word held a slight tinge of fear.

Is he worried for me?

I didn't get the chance to voice my thoughts or respond, as Will abruptly changed the subject.

"Can I be honest with you about something?" he asked.

I blinked, surprised by the question. "Yes, of course."

At first, he didn't speak, as if he was surprised that I'd agreed so readily. He flexed his hands open and closed on the table before reaching to rub the back of his neck—his nervous tick. A thousand emotions passed over his face faster than I could read, but he kept his eyes glued to the front window overlooking the lane to the beach. I had a feeling that, when he finally found his words, they weren't the ones he originally wanted to say.

"I'm not sure I can teach you how to do mind magic. It's not that I don't have the ability, I'm just—" He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line before continuing. "It would mean practicing getting into your mind and you getting into my mind, and I… I just don't think I can do it. You're so incredibly powerful that it would take no effort for you to make me your puppet."

The slight tremble in his voice tore at me, made me want to go to Joseph and rip his fucking throat out for what he'd done to Will. The image in my mind was visceral; I knew exactly what it would feel like for my claws to sink into his flesh, how his blood would slick over my fingers. Because it was exactly how I'd killed Davis Brown.

It took every ounce of my willpower to stay in place and turn my rage into comfort. "Then we can find someone else to help me. I don't want you to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable or retraumatize you."

"But who else will teach you, if not me? I'm the only merperson with their mind we can trust."

I thought about this. I thought about it long and hard, sipping on my hot chocolate to give myself more time to consider our options. The conclusion I came to wasn't one I was fond of but one that had been inevitable from the beginning: I—we—were going to need to leave. I hated the fact that it always came down to me having to leave home…

It can't be helped. And if it means I can prevent Joseph from doing to the other islands what he did to Nora, then so be it.

When I looked at Will, though, the anxiety in his eyes was impossible to miss, as was the way he clenched and unclenched his fists on his lap. I could almost feel how terrified he was at the prospect. Gods, it hurt to see it.

Without thinking, on instinct alone, I moved around the table to take the seat next to him, reaching up and slipping my hand underneath the chain of his necklace. I closed my eyes, envisioning a dark green pearl in the very center of his necklace, one imbued with the power to protect his mind from me or anyone else who might wish to take it. I reached deep into my bottomless well to strengthen and fortify it, giving it my sincere desire to ensure he never had to be a victim like that again.

When I opened my eyes again, the product of my effort wasn't what I looked at—it was his face. As he moved to press his hand over mine, his eyes misted over. There was an emotion there I couldn't read, as if I'd done something meaningful to him that I didn't understand. Still, it reverberated down to my very soul.

My voice was feral and inhuman when I finally found the words I was looking for. "Now no one will be able to take your autonomy from you again. And if anyone dares to try, I will rip out their fucking throat."

I was surprised at my own ferocity, at how true the sentiment was. Ex-boyfriend or not, my own feelings aside, the idea of seeing him slack-faced and unable to make his own decisions made me want to throw up. The vision of him holding Eli's heart, the dream of all my people dead, already haunted me… I didn't need to add more fuel to that particular trauma.

Will's face held abject awe as he looked at me, but beneath that lay another unreadable emotion. "After how I failed you, you would do this for me?"

"What do you mean?" I tilted my head.

"You died in what was probably a horrendous way because I left you too long. I shouldn't have done that. I could've called on my way back to you or had you—"

I tried to cut him off, cupping his cheek before he could spiral further. I knew I shouldn't touch him so intimately, but that stricken look on his face killed what little restraint I had. "Please, Will. Please don't do that to yourself," I said gently. "You were not and are not responsible for my death."

He kept speaking as if he hadn't heard me. "When I went back to the beach, your aunt was frantically looking everywhere for you. She said you walked off, like you were in a trance, then she couldn't find you. We searched for a long time…" He trailed off, and his eyes, now focused on a place just over my shoulder, had a far-off, haunted look to them. "I felt your turn. It was big and violent and nearly knocked me on my ass. I could've sworn the islands themselves shuddered. And that's how I knew… I knew the hunters had gotten to you. I knew for absolute certain when I saw their mutilated bodies."

The memories of my turn lurched forward, freeing themselves from the confines of the box I'd shoved them in. The helplessness, the feel of the manacles around my wrists. Every slice and stab of the knife in my flesh. How I'd begged Not-me Siren to kill me in the end… it was all there for me to relive all over again.

I wasn't ready to face the memories yet. I wasn't ready to admit that more trauma had been heaped upon my already damaged and fragile psyche. There might've been a time in the future that I could face it, but it was not today.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say.

His eyes snapped up to mine. "Why are you sorry? I wasn't the one who was murdered by the hunters."

"But you feel responsible for what happened, and you really shouldn't," I countered gently. "I should've left the moment the hunters stepped foot on the islands."

Because, in the end, what I feared would happen was but a fraction of what had happened. My worst nightmare had nothing on the reality of my situation. My hands, which were both now in my lap, twitched as my claws lengthened by an inch.

"You don't have to protect our feelings, you know that, right?" he asked, pulling me back to the present.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're always dancing around what happened to you to make sure no one feels too bad about your death and change. You don't need to do that. You were the one that died. If anything, we should be bending over backward to coddle you ." He said this so earnestly that I wasn't sure what to say. But he kept going. "You deserve to have time to settle in and figure yourself out, instead of racing toward a confrontation with my asshat sperm donor. I know that you must, but honestly, I wish you didn't have to. This is supposed to be a new lease on life, not a reckoning with the past."

I averted my eyes, settling my attention on my lap. "That'd be nice," I whispered, defeated, "but I've never been that lucky."

There was a stretch of awkward silence, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. It was enough that I looked back up at him, unsure whether he wanted to say anything more or if I should break the quiet. But, in the end, he straightened, then reached across the table to grab my hot chocolate. He pressed the mug into my hands.

"You're tired," he said. "Why don't you finish your drink and head back to bed? I'll make sure you're safe and can rest."

"Okay, but only if you rest, too," I replied, and pressed my knee against his briefly before taking a sip of cocoa.

The softness in his eyes nearly undid me. It shouldn't have been directed at me, and I shouldn't have enjoyed how warm it made me feel, but I did. Especially when he nodded.

"Of course. Anything for you."

Why did that statement feel like it meant more than I knew it did?