8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A natolius made his way to the edge of the palace and strode into one of the small sinking chambers that let the sirens shift more gracefully when they went out into the sea. He needed space to think about how much had happened in the space of a few hours.

The water slowly rose in the chamber, and Anatolius cleared his mind to focus on the feel of it against his skin. When it was up to his chest, he let his magic take hold to transform his legs. His arm fins fanned out involuntarily at the pleasant sensation of the shift.

When the chamber was full, the opposite door slid open, and the sea in all its vastness stretched out before him. Right now, though, he didn't crave the open water. His destination wasn't far as the border waters that always soothed his mind, but he knew it would bring him peace.

He swam down the length of the palace to the expansive coral garden that the royal family tended for the use and enjoyment of all Vathós. It was a lush oasis of glowing coral, anemones, and kelp. Normally, these plants and animals would not survive at these depths, but the magic of the sirens allowed them to flourish. Small reef fish, too, made an unusual home in the garden, darting here and there across the paths. It was his favorite place in the world.

Anatolius floated slowly along the paths of the garden, letting his thoughts flow where they may. Part of him, deep down, wasn't surprised that the human woman he had been so fascinated with from afar would turn out to be his Chosen. Chosen weren't given that name because they chose each other—it was the old gods that did the choosing. Or at least, that's what the sirens believed.

Many sirens were blessed to find their Chosen during their lifetimes. Since they’d closed their borders, though, the number of mated couples had dropped. Anatolius' heart ached to think of those who would never cross paths with their Chosen, if they were another species.

It pained him to think that he, too, nearly missed meeting Maura—strong, brave, self-possessed, Maura. She had fallen into his life today, and he knew he would never be the same, even when she was gone.

And she would go. She clearly hadn't felt the same zing of energy that Anatolius had felt–didn't experience their intuitive connection the same way. He would never force a partnership on her that she didn't want. He would not keep her tied to him against her will. He would enjoy the time he had with her. If all went to plan, he would be able to get her out of Vathós in three weeks' time, at the final banquet before the week-long marriage ceremony began.

Anatolius was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice he was no longer alone as he swam into the entrance of one of the garden caves. Its walls were covered in softly glowing anemones, casting everything in a gentle purple light.

"Brother, what are you doing here away from your blushing otter bride?"

Shit.

"Cornelia," he said, turning to find her sitting on a small stone bench with her tail coiled around her. Her dark blue hair floated in the water around her, and her eyes glowed with the reflection of the anemones around them.

"So, what happened?" his sister asked casually. How she managed to be so perceptive was one of the great irritations of his life. He sighed.

"She fell."

"She fell? Into the sea?"

"Yes, she slipped on the cliffs to the northeast and fell in. Her shift saved her."

"Why was there a human woman alone on our northeastern coast? No one has lived there for years."

Anatolius debated how much to tell his sister. If he gave away how much he knew about Maura before today, she would instantly know there was more to this than just saving her life. Apparently, his silence was clue enough for her, though.

"Ana, tell me what's going on. This isn't like the men and women you've dallied with in the past, you've introduced her as your Chosen. You know your secrets are safe with me," Cornelia said, more gently. Anatolius did trust his sister, more than anyone else in his life. Perhaps having her as an ally in keeping Maura out of harm's way wouldn't be the worst thing. He sighed and crossed his arms.

"Maura is my Chosen, that much is true. She just doesn't know."

Cornelia squinted her eyes incredulously. "Go on."

"She fell, and before she could get back to shore, Yiorgos and Lucana found us. I knew the only way to keep her safe was to claim she was my Chosen. Then I touched her, and I knew…"

"Oh, Ana," Cornelia's voice didn't hold pity, only genuine disappointment over his predicament. "She wants to go home, doesn't she? She doesn't feel the connection."

Anatolius nodded, unable to admit the harsh facts aloud.

"Alright, what do we need to do?" Cornelia was ready to help, just like that. Anatolius felt lucky to have such a sister.

"I think the best time to get her out will be during the gathering on the last night before the marriage ritual begins. Practically all of Vathós will be caught up in celebrating a royal wedding, and it's…not unexpected that the two of us would slip away then." As he said the words, his mind conjured flashes of what he and Maura would be doing when they slipped away if their bond were reciprocated—if this were real. He imagined the feeling of her thick, curly hair in his hand, the softness of her cheek against his lips, the press of her rounded body against his. He wondered what she tasted like.

"Yes, I think that makes the most sense," Cornelia said, unaware of the direction his thoughts had taken. He hoped she couldn't see his flushed face in the dim light.

"And you'll help us? Help me keep her safe?" Anatolius asked. Cornelia rose from where she sat on the bench, closed the distance between them, and placed her hand on his arm. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and felt seen. He knew his sister would be there for him, but the fact that she so unquestioningly offered her help to his mate as well? He pulled Cornelia into a hug.

"We'll keep her safe, Ana. Just keep up the act for a few weeks," Cornelia said, still returning his hug. He nodded into her shoulder with a sigh. He had a feeling he was in for the most trying three weeks of his life.