Page 95 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

Until Liam had confessed his love for me a lifetime ago, I hadn’t much thought about what it would be like to take a lover, a consort, or even to find my shíorghrá.

My uncle had been so successful in telling me that I was unlovable and that no one would want the daughter of a mad queen that I had believed it down to my marrow.

Maybe my uncle was wrong.

I didn’t allow myself to think of Moira or Liam, or I knew that I would break down and fold myself into a ball on the floor.

I had a mission.

Saving the man that killed both of my friends.

Belisama, hear my prayer. Bring Cormac back, so the merfolk don’t let me die in the dungeon.

As if the god of water had heard me himself, I spotted a door in the corner of the room that I could have sworn hadn’t been there before. The crowd parted as if moved by an invisible hand, and I made my way through the door, my stomach racing to my throat and my hair whipping past my face as I dropped into the water. Darkness swallowed me, curling over my body like a thousand licking tongues, seeking entrance through my eyes, nose, and mouth before I could even scream.

The moment lasted both a lifetime and a blink. The abyss shifted to reveal a room filled to the brim with pink cushions like the mouth of a clam—and where the pearl would sit on the clam’s tongue, Cormac Illfin lounged in all of his glory. His crown was balanced precariously on the side of his head, and his bare chest was scored with claw marks that belonged to a female hand. His scar was gone—the puckered skin that sat over his heart showed no sign of ever existing. His smirk was as arrogant as ever, though his green eyes were shrewd as he watched me approach. His crimson tail swished as if he was lazily fanning himself.

His gaze traveled over my body with such languid arousal that I stopped in my path as my breath whistled through my gills and refused to fill my lungs the entire way.

“Well, well, well,” he cooed. “Who has come to visit me in my harem, I wonder. I am sure I would be aware if I had an undine concubine in my midst.”

My brows disappeared into my hairline. “Pardon?” I blinked, unable to summon any offense because of the sheer level of disbelief silencing me.

Cormac’s smile widened as he leaned forward and placed his wine on the nearest table. He made a show of dragging his hand diagonally across his bare chest as he sat back. His fingers traced a delicate line on the scratches that one of his previous partners had no doubt left in either a fit of pleasure or rage. Cormac’s tongue traced his bottom lip as he continued to eye me. “I’ve never been with a woman with toes before. I’d say that my harem master has chosen wisely.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed, turning away from the mer-king. I closed my eyes and reminded myself that I was here to save Cormac—not kill him. Though the idea was growing more tempting by the minute.

For whatever reason, Cormac was trapped in his own mind. In a dream of his own making.

Perhaps it was the secret hedonist behind the rigid and arrogant man and the need for an outlet from the pressures of being a king, but I didn’t think so.

Something was holding Cormac prisoner in his mind, and I had no idea where to begin.

I turned back to the mer-king, as he continued to caress his bare chest. My nose scrunched in disgust. “Perhaps don’t show off the marks left by another woman if you plan to seduce me?” I suggested.

Cormac cocked his head to the side. “Why not? It’s a mark of my prowess to be able to please a lover so.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s the mark ofhavinganother lover.”

Understanding dawned in his cold eyes, and he sat back as his smirk turned calculating. “You’re a virgin,” he stated, nodding to himself at the realization.

My mouth parted. “Excuse me?” I spluttered.

“You’re excused.” He winked.

Cormacwinked. Who was this man? I bared my teeth in a growl at his joke before shaking my head to clear it. I couldn’t allow him to rile me up.

“We have to go,” I said though I wanted to call him any of the dozen rude names circling through my head.

Cormac’s gaze darkened. “Where, love? To the bed?”

I exhaled slowly and counted to ten. It did nothing to soothe my nerves. “Back home. To Tarsainn.”

His brow furrowed. “This is Tarsainn.”

Even I could tell that whatever room Cormac had conjured with his mind was nowhere close to the rugged hewn Tarsainn. It was smooth, marble, and granite. Decadent and unnaturally occurring on the lake bed. I would have said we were in Cruinn, but I had never seen such a room in the Undine Castle.

Cormac blinked, his eyes clouding before he shook his head to clear it. “Come here, wench. Come and drink some wine.”

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