Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

A pod-wide mating frenzy was in full swing, just as Aersila predicted.

Nireed could scent it in the water, not to mention she'd already passed three pairs brazenly mating out in the open, wherever the mood struck. Either this was a chain reaction from the onset of Nireed's own mating frenzy during her last trip home, or everyone was just thrilled to be alive after the fight on Gale's Promise . No more lives were lost, thank the Twenty-Armed Goddess.

The pod appeared to be mostly healed. Or at least, their injuries weren't impeding their "expansion" efforts. Which was just as well. Some joy and bliss were needed after all they had endured.

And when she'd stopped by to check on Delphine and Melusina, both had been relieved to see her but distracted. While Nireed hadn't technically interrupted anything, they longed for their mates, and really it was only a small matter of time before they were all at it again.

She was glad to see their injuries had healed, and that Celia was happily playing in a corner, blowing bubbles, and swatting them with pudgy, clawed hands. If the little one remembered being trapped in a net, she didn't show it. With any luck, she'd be too young for any such terrible memories to stick.

All that was left to do was go home. Nireed wasn't keen to get to the moment when Aersila scented Reid on her again, even after swimming sixty miles, but there was nothing for it. She couldn't avoid her older sister forever.

Nireed took several centering passes outside their shared abode, getting air through her gills, before entering.

What she saw took her breath away.

Aquilus held her sister's hands, his forehead pressed to hers. The way he held her gaze was so patient and tender and loving, but it was desire that rolled off him in waves. And her sister looked so tempted, but unsure. This was a fragile moment.

Dimming her own bioluminescence, Nireed very, very carefully twitched her fins, disturbing the water as little as possible to make a quiet exit.

Nireed was nearly out the door when Aersila's eyes snapped to her. She lurched back, yanking her hands away. "Nireed," she signed shakily, turning away from her should-be mate. Giving him the cold shoulder.

No. Don't push him away.

Her heart hurt to see the way Aquilus's face fell a split second before his light dimmed, obscuring it from sight. He'd been so close to breaking through to her sister's heart. And Nireed had ruined it with her poor timing. If only she'd been less determined to face her sister and address the growing chasm between them.

"I'm sorry. I'll just go." Nireed signed to them both, but her final look fell on Aquilus. A mistake. Aersila stiffened, the water around them made bitter with her darkening mood.

To Aquilus, Aersila signed in curt motions, "Please leave."

He bowed his head, hurt and disappointed. "As you wish." Looking at neither of them, he swam out without another word.

The moment he was gone, Nireed whirled on Aersila, the movement of her hands punctuated by angry flashes of bioluminescent light. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Aersila huffed, swimming past her. Swiping a knife off a shelf, she ascended to their food preparation table, a large circular slab of stone suspended from the ceiling with thick chains. Nireed followed, watching her sister furiously slice and chop the hunks of potted meat left out to brine.

"Push him away."

"He's too young for me." Aquilus was two years older than Nireed, putting him at eight years younger than Aersila. It wasn't that big of a difference. And he was one of the most mature males in the pod. He'd effectively raised Ryn after all.

"That's not why."

Aersila cut through the malleable meat with more force than necessary, then paused to say, "Forget about it, Nireed. The reason doesn't matter."

"Do you not like him?"

"Sister, I think we have something more important to discuss." Aersila pinned her with a hard glare. "Why do you smell like Reid?"

"I think you know why."

"Does nothing I've said matter to you? You saw what happened to Celia in our own waters, and the risk the pod took to get her back. After everything, how can you be so careless?"

Rows of sharp teeth slotted together as Nireed clenched her jaw. "The answer is to make the waters safer to swim in, not to avoid them."

"And how's that going?" Aersila's hands slapped together.

Slow. Far slower than Nireed would like, there was no denying that, but this kind of change didn't happen overnight unless they said screw it to diplomacy and slew Nautic's whole fishing fleet. A temptation to be sure, but without the general Surface Dweller public knowing the truth, without their sympathies, the blowback would be devastating. They'd just see them as murdering sea creatures and react with outrage and fear.

More merfolk would die.

"It's a delicate process," Nireed finally answered. "Their leadership needs proof, but now, after Gale's Promise , they should have more than plenty. We're making progress."

"I've yet to see it."

As much as Nireed wanted to keep arguing, she couldn't begrudge her sister this skepticism. She had her own doubts, a sinking feeling, that despite everything, all the death and destruction, there would never be enough proof. But if she let those doubts take hold and stopped believing in a chance for a better future, she'd stop fighting. None of them could afford that.

"I'm trying, Aersila. I'm really trying, and it's hard enough facing all these unknowns without my own sister telling me I can't do it. That I won't succeed. Do you know how much it hurts to see again and again how little confidence you have in me?"

Aersila drew back, startled. "It's not you I doubt." The motions of her hands were much softer now. "It's the Surface Dwellers. Despite your best intentions, and your very best efforts, they'll disappoint you. Or worse, take advantage. You're alone and vulnerable every time you go to shore."

"I know that better than you do," Nireed signed gently. "And I'm not alone. Whatever happens between Reid and I, I still have a pod of my own there—Shorewalker, Cure Creator, and all their friends and family. I know you blame them for what happened to me, but it was beyond any of our control, and yet, I would do it all again without question if it meant a chance at securing a better future for us. You've risked your life for this pod time and time again. It's my turn now."

"But…"

Nireed cut her off. "I'm aware of the consequences. I lived them. And even still, this is my choice. I need you to understand and respect that. You, Ryn, this pod, are all worth the risk."

Aersila swallowed, her hands motionless.

"Despite what you may think," Nireed continued, "I've thought a lot about this. And meeting Reid hasn't been all fun and fucking, which by the way, is a type of mating that doesn't produce children."

A flash of something illuminated Aersila's eyes. Interest, perhaps? "There's no such thing," she replied, but her movements were halting. Unsure.

"There is. The Surface Dwellers use these protective sheaths." Nireed paused to hold up two fingers and mimed rolling a condom down the length. "It catches everything."

"Oh." Aersila's brow pinched thoughtfully. "And it works underwater?"

"I don't know, but I can ask." Maybe all this time her sister's hesitation with Aquilus was not because she feared a relationship, but because she didn't want more children. This knowledge could be freeing. "And if they do, I can bring some home next time I visit the shore."

"I don't know." Aersila looked so torn. "I don't want to complicate things with Ryn. He sees Aquilus as his father. If it doesn't work out…"

"Me bringing them back doesn't mean you have to use them. They'll just be here in case you change your mind."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt."

Her sister deserved to be happy. And she deserved to have a mate who loved and adored her. A mate like Aquilus. "You've accused me of taking too many risks. But I think you've been taking too few of late."

Aersila rubbed her forehead, a heavy sigh billowing out in a cloud of bubbles.

"Where is my nephew anyway?"

"Napping." Aersila gestured toward their sleeping quarters. "But stop changing the subject. We were discussing your fling with the Surface Dweller."

If anyone was guilty of subject changing, it was Aersila, but Nireed would let it slide for now. "It's not a fling. We've a lot to figure out, yes, but it's not temporary."

"But he's so far away," Aersila signed halfheartedly, as if already knowing she'd lost this battle.

"It's worth it. He's good to me. Really, really good to me."

"He makes you happy." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.

"He does."

Aersila sighed again, a common response lately. "I don't like the distance, but it's better than Caspian." The pod's overeager, and yet abysmally lackluster, stand-in mate.

"I'm glad you agree. I wasn't sure."

Aersila scrunched her nose with displeasure. "I've higher standards for you than that."

"That's not comforting. There's only two others and one of them is sea sludge."

"If I asked Aquilus, I think he might've…"

Alarmed, Nireed stilled her sister's hands. Then signed, "Don't you ever ask something like that of him. He'd do anything for you, and it'd be wrong to take advantage."

Her sister bowed her head. "I'm not proud of it, but I thought that maybe you could've made him happy where I couldn't. And he you."

"I don't understand. Why would you think that?" Nireed paused to cup Aersila's cheeks.

"Because I don't have enough of me left to give." Her shoulders began to shake. The ocean might swallow her tears, but Nireed knew they were there.

"You're enough. You're more than enough." Nireed pulled her into a fierce hug.