Page 39 of Female Fantasy
From the closet, I select a wet suit made of a reflectiveturquoise fabric that stretches to fit my form. As the garment contorts to cover my curves, a gasp catches in my throat. The sight is practically obscene. Every part of me is hidden yet exposed, and the blue-green nylon shines like the scales of the fish. With my hair loosened from its braid and cascading down my back, I do not look like a mere woman.
I look like the mer.
My breath quickens.
There is only one reason Ryke would have instructed me to dress in a suit this tight and elastic.
He appears at the archway, ridding my head of all thoughts. He is wearing a vest of a similar material, the same obsidian color as his tail. His dark hair is slicked back out of his golden eyes, which twinkle in the moonlight.
“Ready?” he asks.
I start. “You mean…”
He nods once. “Yes. We shall swim to our next location.”
“But I am not—”
“You are ready, little minnow.”
For weeks on end, Ryke has been following through on his promise to teach me to swim. At first, I was terrified that I would panic outside of my air bubble and sink to my death. But Ryke’s hands gripped my waist, and he vowed not to let go until I felt ready. His confidence in me allowed me to start kicking my legs and moving my arms.
And then I was swimming.
Like a babe, a guppy.
But still.
He hands me some sort of contraption, which he then helps me place over my head.
“Whenever you need to breathe, do so through this tube,” he instructs me. “This device operates like a miniature air bubble. It will allow you to draw breath from the water as you swim like the mer do.”
I follow his instructions, inhaling through the tube. Clean oxygen floods my lungs, sending a wave of shock through my body.
“It is miraculous,” I declare.
He grins at me. “Follow my lead. It is a short swim, but do your best to stay close to the surface. Remember, it is imperative that we stay hidden.”
I do as he asks, flexing my tender core and flipping my feet as if they were fins. We swim silently, side by side, passing over a reef of pink speckled coral. I let out a squeal of delight around the tube between my lips. Ryke surprises me by reaching out and taking my hand. And I surprise myself by accepting it.
Together, we swim the rest of the way in each other’s grasp.
Finally, we come upon a grand castle of sand, complete with a moat guarded by two great horses of the sea, their manes as golden as Ryke’s eyes.
“Welcome to Fort Caspian,” Ryke says. “One of my family’s ancestral homes, long abandoned by my kin and forgotten by the sirens. We shall be safe here.”
My eyes widen, though I’m unable to speak around the contraption. Instead, I follow him down a narrow path ofcrystal-covered sand, past the grand sand columns and double cork doors. Once we enter the magnificent hall, complete with stained-glass windows and fresco-covered ceilings, I feel Ryke’s hands at the back of my head. He removes the breathing device, and my heart starts to hammer, my hands immediately flying to my mouth.
“It is all right, my minnow,” he says softly. “The entire castle was built in an air pocket, intended to allow the mer shifters in my family to take their human and maecenean forms as well. You can breathe here.”
I let out a literal breath of relief.
“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show his face,” a mer calls down from the spiral staircase, his voice rolling like thunder.
His eyes are a pale gray and his skin dark as smoky quartz. But it is his dragon-red tail, long and thick behind him, that causes my heart to skip a beat.
Put plainly, the mer is beautiful.
He looks at me and winks. “Before you ask, yes,” he says with a smirk. “It really is that big.”
