Page 143 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
Until Seth marches inside the cabin. “Now, don’t think I’m not enjoying the company of all these gorgeous, naked women, but your other bride is on this ship,” he announces.
Aidan’s body tenses at the revelation. “What? Where?” he asks, his voice tight.
Seth smirks, his impatience growing. “She’s tied up in the other cabin, but I can’t find the keys to the cuffs. I went through the books and notes lying around the room, and I’m pretty sure the Lord of the Tides lives on this boat, along with my brother.”
“I need to speak with her—” Aidan begins, but Seth cuts him off.
“You can catch up with your ex-fiancée later. She’s a little shaken, but I checked, and she’s all for getting rid of the murderous fish before we go and rescue her.”
“Have you told her about the wedding?” Aidan asks, his voice betraying a flicker of guilt.
“She was supposed to marry you today,” Seth replies with a shrug. “I think you should tell her yourself.”
My throat tightens as I glance at Aidan. “You can go to her,” I say, forcing the words out, even though it feels like sandpaper scraping my insides. “I understand.”
Aidan shakes his head firmly. “No,” he says, his voice steady now. “Seth is right. We’ve already delayed long enough.”
The salty air wraps around us as we make our way back to the deck, the wind whipping through our hair, carrying with it the distant hum of the sirens’ song. The sea is rougher now, dark waves crashing against the sides of the ship, yet it feels like the calm before the storm. As we step onto the deck, a school of sirens circles the ship, their voices rising in harmony, creating an eerie, haunting melody that ripples through the breeze.
“Ah, finally. Our bride and groom,” Melisandra calls, her voice dripping with amusement.
She steps forward to take her place as the officiant. Her dark red hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, and she wears a necklace of shells that drapes across her chest, the polished pieces covering her breasts. Seaweed bracelets adorn her ankles, and her bronze skin catches the faint light, glimmering under the stars. Her green eyes lock onto mine as she begins the ritual, her voice clear and commanding despite the quiet of the night.
The ocean breeze tugs gently at her hair as she says, “Sirens love the hardest. Our song demands nothing less than unfailing loyalty. Will you engrave your bones with the promise to cherish your beloved, to rise above temptation in every form, and remain faithful to her forever?” she asks Aidan.
“I will,” Aidan answers, his voice unwavering.
“And you, daughter of Melpomene, will you claim this man as your own and protect him from the waves?” the siren continues, her voice smooth as silk, and yet it carries a sharp edge.
The wind dies down, as though the sea itself is listening.
“I will,” I say, the words leaving my mouth more easily than I expected. The promise feels raw, crawling out from the depths of my soul despite the strange circumstances—despite my fears, and everything that’s still swirling in my mind.
The siren nods in approval. “Your marriage will last even beyond death, and your female children will know the call of the sea.” She pauses, glancing over at the others, a faint smile playing on her lips. “And as for the rest of the ceremony…”
I hesitate. “What about…the rest?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper, unsure of what I’m even asking.
“What about it?” she replies nonchalantly.
“Is there a Sea-preferred way to consummate a wedding?” Seth adds with a teasing grin. “The tail must make things awkward, I bet.”
The sirens laugh in unison, the sound like a cascade of water over smooth rocks.
“Earthlings have such ridiculous traditions,” Melisandra chuckles. “You have taken your vows before Melpomene herself, under the moonlight where the ocean meets the sky,” she adds, her voice growing more serious. “There’s no power in the worlds above or below the horizon that could prevent your union now. Besides, the groom would die if he didn’t claim his bride before dawn.”
I open my mouth, ready to ask if it’s a figure of speech, but when my eyes meet Melisandra’s, I see the glimmer of mischief there—no, it’s not a metaphor.
Aidan catches my eye, and I wonder if the weight of his choice is finally catching up to him. If he's truly ready to pledge his life to me under the eyes of the sea gods—under the looming threat of whatever comes next.
He steps closer, his eyes dark and intense, and before I can even react, he scoops me up into his arms. His kiss is fierce, desperate, like he’s trying to consume me, and I lose myself in it. My pulse quickens, the world around us fading into a blur. His hands are on my back, gripping me tightly as though he’s afraid to let me go, his mouth claiming mine with a fervor that makes my entire body ignite.
The sirens chant in cheer, then slip back into the waves with the same stealth with which they appeared, leaving only the echoes of their song behind.
I melt into my husband’s body, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, eager to feel every inch of him as he guides me back toward the cabin.
Aidan closes the door behind us and presses me to it. “You deserved better than a rushed wedding,” he says with a frown.
“It’s too late to turn back now.” I scrape my nails down his shoulder blades, impatient for him to touch me. “You heard the sirens. You’ddiewithout me,” I say in jest, my heart both heavy and light at the finality of that statement.
