Page 137 of Cruel Tides

She was wearing the swimsuit. The black one I’d picked out for her when I accompanied Kai to get the things that the Atlantic had failed to provide her with.

Although there wasn’t much to it, it fit her perfectly, a cruel reminder that it was the first and only thing I would give to her. But why had she changed into it?

Then it dawned on me—I’d asked to come to her after her meeting with my sister.

“Well?” she asked, a nervous laugh escaping her. “What do you think?” She adjusted her posture, pushing her shoulders back in a shy pose.

My blood pooled low, a physical response that I hoped the darkness would conceal. I lacked experience in talking to people without knowing what they wanted to hear, so I averted my eyes, keeping my voice low and unaffected. “It suits you.”

My indifference faltered, and I stole another glance. The smile touching at the corners of her lips was a confusing torment.

Claira stepped forward, her hair flowing smoothly over her nearly bare shoulders. “You know, I always wondered why you picked this out for me, Barren, when you let Kai choose everything else.”

The hopeful look in her eyes made my throat go dry.

When I didn’t say anything, her lips fell into a pout. “You’re not going to tell me?”

What did she expect me to say?

That I chose it because black was the color of my armor? Because red and black together were the colors of my kingdom, and while Kai had looked upon swimsuits with brightly patterned hearts and flowers, I’d had the urge to dress her in my colors?

That I thought, if I had to give her up, I could at least give myself that much?

“I thought black would complement your hair.”

I was left feeling raw and exposed under her gaze as she stared wordlessly, her head tilting. My eyes shifted, focusing on a cluster of potted pandan plants. What I’d said had been too honest, too close to the truth, the exact wrong thing to say. I should have known by now that no one appreciated honesty.

Claira collected a bundle of hair from over her shoulder and held it next to the strap of her swimsuit. Biting her lip, she twirled the strands, letting some of them fall from her fingers before looking back up at me. “And?” she asked quietly. “Does it?”

She swayed a slow step forward, and I heaved in a breath. “Mmmh,” I forced out, my heart rate increasing every time she came closer.

“Yeah?” Her delicate eyelashes fluttered as she gazed up at me. “You think it looks nice?” Soft laughter escaped her lips as she hooked her finger onto the thin string holding the swimsuit bottom to her curved hips.

I stood there, rooted in silence. The sight of her in that swimsuit, looking so alluring and unattainable, only intensified my ache.

“There’s not a lot to it,” she said and then gave the string a pluck. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip briefly, and then she reached out to me, her warm palm finding my arm. “Did you do that on purpose, Barren?”

All the blood drained from my face. “Nuvisney. I—I don’t understand,” I murmured, the memory of my anxiety and impatience as I waited for her return from the restroom still a fresh wound. My entire life, I’d longed to be as strong in her eyes as I had been when we were both merfry, but we could never return to that time. I could never return to what I once was. “You ran from me.”

Her hand sprang away from my arm. “Iwhat?” she whispered, and I tensed when she went for my hand, grasping it with her delicate fingers. “Look at me, Barren.” She leaned forward, going on her toes, but I could only focus on where our hands met, joined together. “I didn’t run from you,” she said slowly, a tender serenade that built on itself, swimming through the air around me, heating my body. “You believe me, don’t you?”

It was like a heavy stone had lifted from my chest. I nodded, unsure of what to say. Because if she hadn’t run from me, then something had actually happened to her. The same panic that Leander and Kai were experiencing coursed through me, filling me with questions and the intense desire to protect.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice coming out rougher than intended.

Her eyelashes fell, and she looked down while fidgeting with her fingertips. “No. I’m not hurt.”

The answer gave no relief, and I fought against the urge to look inside her mind to find out for myself what had?—

“Barren?” Claira said quietly, her gentle voice pulling me out of my dangerous spiral. One of her feet toed at the deck. “Didn’t you come here to proposition me?”

Proposition her?

“Mmh.” After all that happened, I’d almost forgotten the reason I wanted to meet with her alone. “You aren’t wearing your—” Unsure of its name, I gestured around her hips. The covering she usually wore was missing.

For a moment, she stared up at me, her lips parted in wonder. “Oh, my wrap?” she said, snapping out of it. “It, uh… n-nope. I figured I wouldn’t need it in the hot tub.”

Confusion settled over me as she pulled away. She walked over to my storage box and placed a hand on its cover, giving me an eager look. “Unless it’s filled with salt water, of course. Then I guess I’ll have to change,” she added with a light laugh.

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