Page 87 of Prince of Tides
I nodded. I could do that. Rip was an easy man to like and even easier to love. Dangerously so. But Gisele was right. I was harboring doubts that were a disservice to the man Rip was. I knew better. It was time I accepted it.
“I do,” I whispered, a weird tremor running through me. “I accept it.”
“Good,” Gisele said. “Now, let’s have that baby.”
“Agreed,” I hissed as another contraction hit. “Though just because I understand why he’s not here doesn’t stop me from wishing he could be.”
“Of course, dear. Of course. You love him. It’s natural.”
“I do,” I said with a warm smile. “I do love him.”
The image swam in front of me, disappearing. Gisele, the hallway, my belly, they all faded away into fuzzy nothingness, leaving me in the cavernous interior of Mount Drakonus.
But that time, I wasn’t alone.
“Rip!” I cried, throwing myself into his arms and allowing him to hold me close, my feet not touching the ground.
“Hello,” he said.
“I take it we passed?” I asked, looking around. “I don’t feel dead.”
“Me neither,” he chuckled. “Now, come here.”
He kissed me, and my body exploded with sensation, endorphins filling my mind, excitement flaring every nerve ending until the world went white.
“What wasthat?” I gasped as we parted.
“I don’t—” Rip cut himself off, looking around, “know.”
“Whoa,” I said. “Where are we?”
“The Tidal Clan throne room,” Rip said.
I turned, noting the raised platform along the back wall.
“Is that?” I pointed at a long green-blue three-pronged shaft embedded in one of the stone seats.
“The Trident of the Seas,” Rip confirmed.
I saw his right hand flex.
“It’s …in the stone,” I pointed out.
“I know,” he said reverently, slowly approaching.
I went with him, mesmerized by how the light moved along the weapon, from the shaft and up each tine, wrapping around and darting back down out of sight into the throne where the rest of the weapon was buried.
“How did we get here?” I asked. “Is the God-King that powerful?”
“The answer would appear to be yes,” Rip said. “But I wonder why?”
In the distance, drums began to pound much faster than the beats of the God-King’s heart. Shortly thereafter, trumpets began blowing alarms.
Rip and I exchanged glances.
“I think we have your answer,” I said. “The Bastion is under attack.”
“I suspected they would strike here. I called the Royal Guard back but told them to fly. It’ll piss off some of the other clans to have us pass over in strength, but too bad. It’s the only way the creatures can be caught off guard.”
