Page 152 of Of Rime and Ruin
“Aethan,” I whisper. “What would you say if I could get our Beast back?”
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he sits up. Our breath mingles between us, clouding in the cool night air.
Gently, he cups my face and looks deep into my eyes. “Do it.”
“It might hurt.” I bite my lip. “I’m not positive.”
He traces my lip with his thumb. “I trust you, Nahla. You can do it.”
I sharpen my spell. With the force of my will, I grasp the glowing orb and squeeze.
At first, it resists. Small cracks splinter across the surface. The colors beneath darken and stain dark blue. I squeeze harder. Harder.
Aethan flinches, then shakes his head. “Keep going.”
I clench with all my might, and with a tinkling shatter, the orb breaks into a million pieces.
Emotions pour out. Joy and pain. Love and despair. Rage and wonder.
Where he grips my face, Aethan’s fingers grow cold. Blue scales crawl up his arms. From his scalp sprouts two twisting horns. His eyes darken, deep as midnight. The king and the Beast, one, as he was meant to be.
“It worked,” I gasp. “You’re back.”
I kiss him, joy flooding my heart and I feel the shifting of his mouth beneath mine, the sharpness of his teeth as they emerge. He picks me up and walks me into the shallow waves.
His feet splash. His body grows. And in my head, I hear the rolling thunder of his voice.Hello, Sunfish.
Chapter sixty-four
Aethan
TWOWEEKSLATER
The castle is quiet. I sit at my desk, rolling a gold-banded ring between my fingers so the diamond catches the light. The stone is the size of my pinky nail, bedded in a brilliant halo. The diamond reminds me of Nahla—it catches and bends the light to bring the best colors forth, in the same way she captures the best parts of me.
It’s my mother’s ring, and I intend to use it to ask Nahla to be mine. If she’ll have me. Already, the nerves split my stomach, and I tuck the ring into my pocket.
The future is looking bright.
Last week, I had my room stripped of its iron casements, which uncovered the traditional darkwood paneling beneath. Two windows frame my bed with a view of the courtyard, and for the first time in ten years, light streams through the glass, cutting sharp lines across the slat floor and illuminating the dust. A roaring fire crackles in the fireplace. My door has beenreplaced with a sturdy darkwood feature with a single lock from the inside, and I’ve propped it open to draw a cross breeze from the hallway.
The guard is gone—I sent him on recess with the rest of the staff. As of an hour ago, the Rime was reopened for swimming, and the whole Frost Kingdom turned out to celebrate.
A smile tugs my lips as I dip my fingers into the sight-pool on my desk and activate its magic. The image ripples and zooms into the open water, revealing the crowds of Frost merfolk gathering there. My breath catches in my throat at their beauty. Their blubbery tails show off shades of blues and grays, blacks and whites. Dark browns. Silver. Some are dappled like the hide of a pikewhale, others smooth monotone. Beauty once concealed by a decade of wearing their legs.
I spot familiar faces among the crowd. Cyrene is surrounded by a group of hunters, several of whom accompanied our hunting trip across the Frosted Plains. They speed off with harpoons at the ready, chasing a shiver of pearlsharks. No more hunting regulations. No more danger. They’re free.
Perrin swims with a group of young guards nearby. The males take turns circling around a smaller group of females, showing off their somersaults and flips in the water. Perrin out-skills them all. With a slap of his tail, he pulls off a triple twist, then dives in to plant a quick kiss on a young blonde’s cheek. She blushes and dips her head. As Perrin speeds away, he glances over his shoulder with a tusky grin.
Around the edges, guppies cling timidly to their parents. They stare with wide eyes, taking in the new surroundings. Most of them have never been underwater until now. A brave few venture forth, turning slowly as they experiment with the change in gravity. When a silverfish slips by, the guppies clap their hands in delight.
My chest tightens, filling with an odd mix of sadness and pride. The younglings have missed out on so many beautiful things. They have so much to learn about the sea and their place within it.
“You should be with them.” Nahla’s voice sounds in my ear as her hands slide over my shoulders. Her thumbs press into the muscle, easing my tension with small circles. Her scent washes over me, warm and welcoming, and I inhale. The Beast purrs his approval.
I catch her hand, passing my fingers over her soft skin.
“Not yet,” I say.
