“At least they sent someone impressive after us this time,” Sendes said.
Tharion ran a hand through his damp hair, claws retracting. “They’re drifting right by us. This is incredible.”
Cormac grunted, stirring in Ruhn’s arms, “Does Ophion know about this?”
Sendes stiffened. “We are not aligned with Ophion.” Thank fuck. Bryce sagged, and Hunt’s lightning dimmed slightly.
“What about the Asteri? Are they aware of this technology?” Ruhn asked, gesturing to the boat around them, now vanishing into the deep, the Omega-boat blindly passing overhead.
Sendes continued walking, and they followed her. “No. And given the circumstances under which we found you, I trust you will not pass on the information. Just as we shall keep your presence confidential.”
You fuck us, we’ll fuck you. “Got it,” Ruhn said, offering a smile that Sendes didn’t return. The ship began drifting farther into the canyon’s depths.
“Here she is,” Sendes announced as a medwitch came running, a team of three with a stretcher close behind her.
“Cthona spare me,” Cormac muttered, managing to lift his head. “I don’t need all that.”
“Yes, you do,” Tharion and Ruhn said together.
If the medwitch and her team recognized any of them, they didn’t let on. The next few minutes were a flurry of getting Cormac onto the stretcher and bustled to the medical center, with a promise that he’d be out of surgery within an hour and they could see him soon after that.
Through it all, Bryce kept back with Athalar. Lightning still skimmed over his wings, sparked at his fingertips.
Calm down, Ruhn said into Athalar’s mind.
Thunderstorms boomed in answer.
All right, then.
The city-ship began sailing along the floor of the canyon, the seabed unusually flat and broad between the towering cliffs. They passed a half-crumbling pillar, and—
“Are those carvings?” Ruhn asked as Sendes led them back down the hall.
“Yes,” she said a shade softly. “From long, long ago.”
Tharion said, “What was down here?” He scanned the passing walls of the canyon floor—all of them carved with strange symbols.
“This was a highway. Not as you will find above the surface, but a grand avenue the mer once used to swim between great cities.”
“I never heard of anything out here.”
“It’s from long ago,” she said again, a bit tightly. Like it was a secret.
Bryce said from the back, “I used to work in an antiquities gallery, and my boss once brought in a statue from a sunken city. I always thought she was fudging the dates, but she said it was almost fifteen thousand years old. That it came from the original Beneath.” As old as the Asteri—or at least their arrival in Midgard.
Sendes’s expression remained neutral. “Only the Ocean Queen can verify that.”
Ruhn peered through the glass again. “So the mer once had a city down here?”
“We once had many things,” Sendes said.
Tharion shook his head at Ruhn, a silent warning to lay off the subject. Ruhn nodded back. “Where are we going, exactly?” Ruhn asked instead.
“I assume you want to rest for a moment. I’m bringing you to private quarters in our barracks.”
“And from there?” Ruhn dared ask.
“We need to wait until the Omegas have cleared the area, but once that has happened, we’ll return you wherever you wish.”
“The mouth of the Istros,” Tharion said. “My people can meet us there.”
“Very well. We shall likely arrive at dawn, given our need for secrecy.”
“Get me a radio and I’ll put out a coded signal.”
She nodded, and Ruhn admired the mers’ innate trust in one another. Would she have so easily let him use a radio to contact anyone beyond this ship? He doubted it.
But Bryce halted at the hallway intersection. Glanced at Hunt before saying to Sendes, “You mind if me and my glowing friend here go into the biodome for a while?”
Sendes warily considered Hunt. “I’ll close it to the public temporarily. As long as he does no harm in there.”
Hunt bared his teeth, but Bryce smiled tightly. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
Sendes’s gaze drifted down to the scar on her chest. “When you are done, ask for Barracks Six, and someone will point you that way.”
“Thanks,” Bryce said, then pivoted to Ruhn and Tharion. “Stay out of trouble.”
“You too,” Ruhn said, arching a brow.
Then Bryce was walking toward the lush biodome, Hunt trailing, lightning in his wake.
Sendes pulled a radio from her pocket. “Clear the biodome and seal off its doors.”
Ruhn started. “What?”
Sendes continued onward, boots clicking on the tiled floors. “I think she and the angel should have a little privacy, don’t you?”
46
There was only his power, and Bryce. The rest of the world had become an array of threats to her.
Hunt had the vague notion of being brought onto an enormous mer ship. Of talking with its commander, and noticing the people and the Omega-boat and Cormac being wheeled off.
His mind had drifted, riding some storm without end, his magic screaming to be unleashed. He’d ascended into this plane of existence, of primal savagery, the moment the Hind had appeared. He knew he had to take her out, if it meant getting Bryce to safety. Had decided that it didn’t matter if Danaan or Cormac or Tharion got cooked in the process.
He couldn’t turn away from that precipice.
Even as Bryce walked down a quiet, warm hallway toward a lush forest—pines and ferns and flowers; birds and butterflies of every color; little streams and waterfalls—he couldn’t settle.
He needed his magic out, needed to scream his wrath and then hold her and know she was fine, they were fine—
He followed Bryce into the greenery, across a trickling stream. It was dim in here, mist curling along the floor. Like they’d walked into some ancient garden at the dawn of the world.
She halted in a small clearing, the floor covered with moss and small, white flowers shaped like stars. She turned to him, her eyes glowing. His cock stirred at the glittering intent in them.
Her lips curved upward, knowing and taunting. Without saying a word, she lifted her soaked T-shirt over her head. Another second and her purple lace bra was gone too.
The world, the garden, vanished at the sight of her full breasts, dusk-rose nipples already peaked. His mouth watered.
She unfastened her pants. Her shoes. And then she was shimmying out of her purple underwear.
She stood totally naked before him. Hunt’s heart pounded so wildly he thought it’d burst from his chest.
She was so beautiful. Every lush line, every gleaming inch of skin, her beckoning sex—
“Your turn,” she said huskily.
His magic howling, begging, Hunt had the vague sense of his fingers removing his clothes and shoes. He didn’t care that he was already fully at attention. Only cared that her eyes dipped to his cock and a pleased sort of smile graced her mouth.
Naked, they faced each other in that garden beneath the sea.
He wanted to please his mate. His beautiful, strong mate. Hunt must have said it aloud, because Bryce said gently, “Yes, Hunt. I’m your mate.” The star on her chest fluttered like an ember sputtering to life. “And you are mine.”