Page 70 of Cruel Tides

No, sleep wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

I held tight to my blanket, picturing Claira’s peacefully sleeping face. The quilt smelled just like her—a breath of fresh air with a touch of something delicious. Something that made my mouth water. I hadn’t seen inside her room yet, but I hoped it was comfy and that she was getting some sleep.

Next to me, the heat of Leander’s sleeping body stood out in the chill of the air. I listened to the soft sounds of his breathing, a steady reminder that he was still with us.

It was surreal that so much had changed in a blink of an eye. Like something had sucked away all his energy, and it had taken Barren bringing him inside and laying him down before he’d regained consciousness.

Of course, Leander’s immediate response after waking was to insist he was fine. But we all knew better. Claira was so distressed that she didn’t start calming down until Gram came home and consoled her.

These episodes, whatever was happening to him, weren’t something that would just go away. There wasn’t any taking back what he’d done. The trident was part of him now.

Despite my usual attempts to remain optimistic, I was struggling to see the bright side of this.

Since I wasn’t getting any sleep tonight anyway, I thought over my understanding of the tridents, recalling the glyphs in the ruins back home.

Creation. Vitality. Conversion. Visions. Storms.

The five tridents—each one held an equal amount of power, yet all were distinct.

Although the ruins rarely saw visitors, there wasn’t a glyph in there that I hadn’t studied. Its sweeping walls were full of thousands of symbols explaining the merfolk’s history as well as the trident’s uses and powers. But there was nothing about joining or separating from one of them, was there? No evidence of anyone else having done the same. Not in the Pacific’s records, at least, which went all the way back to before the oceans were divided.

Leander’s sharp whisper broke through the stillness. “The fuck do you keep sighing about?”

Seems I wasn’t the only one feeling restless.

Sighing again, I buried my chin into my quilt. “Nothing,” I whispered back.

Although Leander kept his voice low, the threat there was unmistakable. “You better not be thinking about sneaking into Claira’s bedchamber.”

My face burned—was it that obvious I’d been thinking about her only moments before?

“You know I wouldn’t. She told us not to, remember?” I failed to keep my voice steady. “It’s just… I haven’t been able to relax since my injury.”

That wasn’t entirely accurate. Claira and I had been exceptionally relaxed in the hotel together. But I’d been awake then, and that was a different type of relaxed. A type that I hadn’t known was possible until she’d shown me.

“I could really go for some foreplay,” I said wistfully, thinking about how good she felt in my arms. Even just holding her hand might have been enough to help keep these haunts away. “Maybe then I could get some sleep.”

Leander shot upright. “Thefuck?”he snarled, a storm brewing in the depths of his voice.

Oh no.

I gasped. “She didn’t tell you about foreplay?” On instinct, I shielded my neck, throwing the quilt over my face. It wouldn’t protect me, but at least my last breath would remind me of Claira. The quilt muffled my words when I said, “Sorry, man—I thought she already taught you!”

I braced myself for the pain, but all that came was a deep, uncomfortable silence. Leander blew out a breath, then laid back down, mumbling, “I’m going to need you to keep shit like that to yourself.”

He may have sounded cranky, but it didn’t appear that I was in any real danger. Cautiously, I emerged from under the quilt’s security.

There was one final moment of stillness before Leander broke the tension. “Don’t worry about it. I know she’s your mate, too.” Some of the heaviness in the air seemed to dissipate. “If anything, you deserve her more than I do.”

“Whoa, that’s not true,” I said, frowning. If anything, he deserved her more than I did. He was a crown prince, after all. Well, he was before he’d left his kingdom, at least. Legally, I wasn’t sure what he would be now.

“Itistrue.” There was a bite of anger hanging on the edge of each word. “You used your back as a fucking shield for her because I was too blind to see what was right in front of me.”

I’d been wondering if he blamed himself for what happened when the cecaelia attacked, given his recent behavior toward me. But maybe it wasn’t blame. It could have been the thought of not being able to save her himself that terrified him. I could relate to that.

Despite not being particularly battle-ready, the idea of putting Claira’s safety in someone else’s control filled me with dread. She was my mate, and I wanted to protect her.

It was easy to assume Leander felt the same way.

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