Page 38 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

Selkie lived in constant fear of being taken prisoner or enslaved. The moment someone picked up their skin, they could gain control over that selkie—it was a flaw in their magic.

Based on the pain in Rainn’s eyes at the idea of taking anyone as a prisoner, I didn’t want to think about his history and why he locked up his skin so tightly.

Rainn was the only soldier that had shown even a modicum of kindness to me—even though we stood amongst the corpses of my kin. Cormac Illfin might have saved me the night before, but I was willing to bet that it had nothing to do with compassion. Maybe I could take Rainn’s kindness for granted and persuade him to let me go once we had left the lagoon.

I froze as another soldier approached and informed the four males at my side that the battalion was ready to leave the beach.

“Tor, can you please escort our guest to the water,” Cormac called over his shoulder at the distant male.

Tormalugh, or Tor, rolled his head across his shoulders. His face was clear of all expression as he shifted forms in a single breath. One moment he was a male with hair as dark as night and eyes as bottomless as the Abyss, the next, a steed stood on the sand. Its coat was so dark that it swallowed the light of the early morning sun.

The kelpie shook his head and stomped his feet before padding over to me and forming a wall between my body and the shore. His coat was shiny, like an oil slick, and the magic of his horse-form called out in a way that begged to be fawned over and ridden.

But I knew better.

“Mount him,” Cormac snapped.

My eyes flicked to the side, but I did not turn to face the merman. “You are an unpleasant person,” I told him.

The merman snorted. “Unpleasant I may be, but we need to make haste, and I cannot trust that you can keep up.”

I looked down my nose at him. “I’m a good swimmer.”

“I cannot trust that you won’t deviate from course and go back to Cruinn to warn your uncle of our movements,” Cormac retorted.

My hand closed into a fist. It didn’t escape my notice, but I was surrounded by males. Each one was more powerful than me, stronger than me.

If I had reached my magical majority, I would have been able to fight back, but instead, I was condemned to be their captive.

Cormac stepped forward, and I froze. A look akin to pain crossed his features. “The mer that attacked you is dead,” he told me. “None of my soldiers will hurt you. This, I swear.”

I felt his promise wash over me. A fae binding. It didn’t erase my fear, but I didn’t argue.

The kelpie exhaled and stepped closer, nudging me with his flank. I didn’t want to show weakness, but I wasn’t suicidal. “Is it safe?” I asked.

“It’s safe,” Rainn assured me. “You may mount him.”

“Without a saddle?” I worried my bottom lip.

The horse nudged me again, and I reached forward, placing my hands on his neck.

My experience riding centered around enchantments. Reed-steeds and bubble-mares that had a set purpose spelled into their being. Though I had met a kelpie at the stables, I had never ridden one; not many people had and lived to tell the tale.

Tormalugh dipped his head and lowered his front legs so I could mount him easily. I expected his beautiful coat to be sticky to better drag me to my death, but it was smooth under my hands. Once I was settled, the horse padded into the water.

Something settled in my stomach. A nervous kind of resignation. I didn’t know how, but I had the feeling that if I survived the four men around me, my life would be vastly different than it had been in Cruinn.

It didn’t take long to reach the narrow break in the basin that held the lagoon, the fissure in the rock barely large enough to fit three people shoulder to shoulder.

I hadn’t paid much attention on my way to the Frosted Sands. Hunger and exhaustion blinded me to how dangerous the journey had been. Perhaps that was why they starved us before the migration, to ensure we could make the journey without fear.

Cormac, Shay, Rainn, and Tor seemed to know where they were going even though I didn’t.

Though my belly was full, I didn’t feel much better than I had the day before.

The moment we approached the narrow fissure, the magic swelled, and I felt the resistance in the water, almost like a pane of glass that stopped us from leaving. Every instinct screamed to escape and swim away—that danger lay ahead.

I reached forward and pressed my hand against the wall of magic, feeling it stretch and give under my fingers, forming a tunnel through the water.

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