Page 25 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

“I’m right here, and I can hear you.” I squared my shoulders. “As much as I appreciate your hospitality,” I bit out, “I have to be getting back to the water anyway.”

“Good,” Cormac replied.

I glanced at the food on the table, the unknown land meats, and the colorful bowl of fruits.

I must have looked a bit too long because Cormac pinched the bridge of his nose and waved towards the food. “Have at it.” Exasperation dripped from his voice. “But know that we will have to spell you to forget of this cottage the moment you pass the Skala rocks.”

My stomach twisted in hunger, but before I reached for the fruit on the table, my fingers twitched. “I can’t eat,” I said, swallowing the excess saliva that pooled in my mouth. I didn’t dare explain why—that I hoped to make it to the Frosted Sands and complete the migration.

“Mores the pity,” Cormac replied dryly.

My fists clenched. “I have done nothing to you save from wash up on the beach. Are you always this polite to every female you meet?”

“In case you haven’t noticed yet, sweetheart, ’we’re at war,” Cormac bit back.

“Sweetheart?” I echoed.

“May the gods grant me a boon for taking time out of my day to save an ungrateful female from death.” Cormac held his hands together as if he was praying. “I have no idea why the lake called us here, but I’m certain you are healed and hearty and can be on your way.”

“As long as I can get as far away from you as possible.” I gave him a saccharine smile.

“Do you know who I am?” Cormac brushed the front of his tunic. “If you had even the tiniest bit of sense, you would be honored to eat at my table. Enough that you would drop to your knees right here.”

My nose wrinkled. “You’re a sea slug.”

Cormac lifted a brow but said nothing at the insult.

Tor stepped forward. Rolling his neck to the side as he approached. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is.” He glanced at me. “Do you agree to the memory enchantment?”

My eyes darted around the room, taking in the four men in the kitchen. I didn’t know if it was nerves or delayed shock from being attacked by the guards, but my fingers prickled, and my stomach tumbled at the idea of leaving.

My entire life in the palace had been dogged, but nothing like the feeling of unease I had now. Of a lack of safety.

Even though the men in front of me didn’t know me from Belisama’s left fin, they had taken me from the sands and allowed me to rest. They had not taken advantage of or tried to kill me.

“You are enemies of the Undine King, aren’t you?” I whispered. “That’s why you are meeting here.”

The expressions disappeared from each of the male ’faes faces as if they were ink in water. Only smooth and impassive boredom stared back at me.

“I won’t tell,” I clarified. “In case you didn’t notice, King Irvine and the undine are not exactly my best friends at the moment.”

“We came to the Skala Beach because the lake demanded it,” Tor said without emotion.

Rainn lifted his hand. “I was already here. The selkie live on the rocks.”

Tor pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Be that as it may.” Shay stood up, his braids shifting, as the shells woven into his hair clacked and shivered. “You have rested. You have healed. We did as the water bade and ensured that you were safe as you slept. We owe you no more than that.”

Rainn opened his mouth, and Cormac sent him a warning glare. The selkie shot me an apologetic shrug.

Tor brushed his hands together. “As enlightening as this entire exchange is, we need to be getting on.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit down, love.”

I glanced at his hands. “The enchantment won’t hurt, will it?”

Tor shrugged. “How would I know?”

“That does not inspire confidence.” My nostrils flared, and I made no move towards the chair. “What’s to stop me from running? Right this moment.”

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