"I can't imagine you being trouble at all," I observe sarcastically.
One shoulder lifts defiantly. "Mother had enough serious stiffs around her. I loved making her smile, and she loved allowing me the freedom I'd always wanted. I'd never known devastation as I did the day Father told us she'd been taken. Those were dark days, and I stood by my family as we went to war. I used to think that if I could go back and alter anything, I'd try to talk my father and brothers down, but as does everything in life that changes, I'm glad I was never given that opportunity to do so. If I had, we likely wouldn't have you."
Hugging my arms around his shoulders, I let the action speak louder than my words would at the moment. My impish mer mate is simply full of surprises and feelings that he likes to hide. When I return to my task, we sit in companionable silence until I finish.
"Done," I announce, repeating his words.
Zeph spins in my lap and slants his lips over mine. As our tongues brush, it's easy to taste the softness from his story. We aren't always the face that we put on for the world. Behind every frisky, brutish, or studious façade, there are emotions and pasts that will never stop being at an internal war.
I'm on the verge of getting myself another taste of the mer in front of me when he retreats, kissing my chin and standing to step from the tub. Spinning so that my breasts are pressed against the side, I fold my arms over and rest my head on them. It gives me a great view of Zeph's ass, but also his face in the mirror when he gets his first glimpse of his hairstyle. I'd told him I wanted to see his hoops more, and I wasn't kidding. A soft but tight French braid pulls the majority of the left side of his hair back, ending tucked between his beaded braids. Without any hair ties, I did the best I could to get it to stay in place. But, nothing else matters as Zeph's palm traces the braid's edges and a grin lights his face.
"Thanks, little siren," he says, winking at me in the mirror.
Wanting to inspect my own, I stand, letting the water trickle down my skin. He watches through the mirror for a moment before turning to face me as if he can't stand that small barrier between us. It's a powerful feeling to be caught in his gaze while he drinks his fill of my nakedness. Remembering how it felt being between him and his brother, I can't help but wonder what it'll be like with all three of them in the room. And yes, that's a when not if, because I will have them.
Stepping up to the mirror, my mouth falls slightly agape. There is an intricate design of a waterfall braid that's positioned around my head like a purplish black crown. It pulls all the hair away from my face, showcasing Zephyr's golden hoops in my ears.
My gaze flicks to him as he steps up behind me. "You're not the only one who wanted to see those in some sexy ears. Know what else? I cannot wait to reclaim our kingdom so I can place a real crown atop your head, my queen."
Well, there go my figurative panties into a puddle on the floor. Twisting my head, I capture his lips over my shoulder. He doesn't hesitate to push his way inside to claim me. If I could just bend over slightly, he could seriously stake his claim. Rubbing my ass against him has me swallowing his groan.
His breath is heaving when he pulls away this time. "Gods have mercy. You have earned your nickname. I'm all torn up and can think of nothing else around you, my little siren."
"Doesn't sound like such a bad thing." I smirk.
"Yeah," he huffs, pulling his jeans back on. I get distracted by him tucking his aroused cock inside, and he has to snap in my line of sight before my eyes flick back up to his, and he adds, "Unless you have brothers that will chop your human dick off and feed it to the fish for stealing you away for so long."
"Oh, yeah," I agree. "We can't have that at all. I like that thing too much."
Tipping his head back, his bark of laughter echoes around the room as water drips down his chest from his hair. I want to lick the droplets, but my magic flairs to life beneath my skin, begging me to try something else. Focusing on the moisture on both our bodies, I can feel when it responds to my touch. As quick as a snap of fingers, it evaporates, leaving every inch of us both bone dry.
Zephyr's chin drops and he looks between us. "Did you just do that?"
My only response is a pleased smile before slipping my dress back on and facing the sink. I'm making a habit of borrowing toothbrushes, but I haven't seen my room in days, so they can't complain. Zephyr props a hip against the sink while I brush and rinse. "You do realize I've never even seen Zanthus do something like that?"
"Really?" I ask with raised brows.
He nods slowly as that infamous grin tilts his lips up. "Seriously. Now let's go tell Zanthus so he can cry about it."
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes toward the ceiling with a smile but follow him out. "Why do you like pushing his buttons so much anyway?"
"Oh," he starts, opening the main door and letting me lead us into the hallway, "don't let him fool you. My brother dishes out as much as he takes. Just wait, you'll see."
The warning of just wait and see comes a lot sooner than I thought it would. Zephyr and I track down Zale and Zanthus to not too surprisingly find them in the study. The latter has a long thin sword on the table in front of him that he seems to be doing some sort of sharpening on. Not exactly sure why he deems it necessary since its shiny surface appears to be ready to slice through the toughest of hides.
We've barely stepped foot into the room when Zanthus blurts, "Nice hair. You girls have a fun time?"
Sitting at the head of the table, Zale glances up from the book his face is buried in and offers us a smile before glaring daggers at his offensive brother. For that he earns a kiss on the cheek. I'm truly not a smacking kind of person, but after seeing the other side of Zephyr, my defenses kick in, dealing a swift but soft blow to the back of Zanthus' head.
"Leave him alone," I warn.
He shakes his head but doesn't say anything else about it. Not like I give him the chance to anyway.
"What are you planning to do with this thing?" I ask, reaching out to run a fingertip down the hilt. It seems to hum at my touch, but none of the others seem to notice.
Zanthus huffs, "We've been too lax in training since being struck by the curse. It'll do us all well to undergo a refresher to get our bodies back into shape."
If their bodies are out of shape, then I must look like a cream puff compared to them. Somehow, I'll manage to get in on this training. Saving that thought for later, I let my confusion lace my tone. "Why would you need a weapon like this underwater? Especially with your magic."
Merrick lets himself into the room with a cart that smells heavenly. Two seconds ago, I was worried about not being in proper shape to fit in with my mates, and now, my stomach growls like it's ready to take a chunk out of the table in front of me if I let it. None of the Zs complain as he takes over an explanation. "Our realm is mostly water, so it's a smart assumption that the majority of our battles would be beneath the surface. However, since the five kingdoms came to be, there arose a demand for learning dry land skills. Our warriors are trained in both and prepared for any battle. As embarrassing as it is to admit to your highness, I doubt any of us would be in any kind of capacity to serve and protect the royal family. But no worries as we are correcting that now. By the time the curse is broken, your royal guard will be ready."