Once headed toward the other duelers, we're now making a path toward the little houses. We get there just as a tall male steps from his still adjusting his armor.
He bows at the waist to us. "Your highnesses."
"Excuse our rudeness, Wallace," Zanthus states, none of the venom present from before. "Would you mind if we borrowed your home for a few moments?"
My head whips up in confusion. The same expression flickers on Wallace's face, but he doesn't hesitate to grant the princes access into his dwelling with a sidestep and hand flourish. "Of course."
I follow Zanthus inside and barely give the door time to click shut before verbally pouncing on him. "What in the banana boat was that? Is that the way things work here? You kill people over a misunderstanding?"
"Little Siren---" Zephyr starts, but I whirl back around to him, putting a finger in his chest.
"And you," I all but growl, "you saw what happened. You were right there. Why didn't you stop him? He could've murdered that man in front of us for no reason."
The sly grin drops from his lips as gold flares to life around his pupils. After the rush of adrenaline, I want him to take me in his arms and make me feel safe like he did in the Keep, but it's not him that reaches me first. I don't get moved very far. Zanthus gently grabs my upper arm and uses it to spin back his way before pressing our chests together and forcing me to step into Zephyr. I don't have time to protest, even if I wanted to, before his lips crash down on mine.
A pathetic whimper makes its way out of my throat and it’s like throwing a dog a bone. His kiss becomes aggressive to the point that I can't think of anything other than him. Next thing I know, I'm wrapped around him like an octopus on its prey. With his hands securely fastened underneath my ass, the one now sneaking under the hem of my shirt to splay a palm across my stomach must belong to Zephyr. The extra set of lips brands the skin between my neck and shoulder too.
Zephyr waits until Zanthus finally breaks away before tucking strands of hair behind my ear and telling me, "He had a weapon, little siren. Tensions are running high right now. You may not have noticed, but he raised it poised to attack, when you startled him. The only reason he was at my brother's blade was because he beat me to it."
"Anyone who raises a weapon to the crown is committing treason and is subject to the penalty of death," Zanthus forces out while his hands clench tightly on my ass no doubt trying to form fists. "You will be their queen, and therefore his life was forfeit the moment he spun on you."
I poke him in the chest, but a lot of good it does. I might as well be poking a brick wall, "Listen here, you brutish merman. It was an accident and completely my fault for startling him."
"Other than my brothers, your mates...You. Will. Not. Touch. Another. Male," he bites out around each word.
A part of me wants to do just that to see just how far I can push him until he snaps. Especially thinking I'm this weakling of a mate who sits around and takes orders. It's that flash of vivid blue in his eyes that stops me. Well, that and imagining another female around them. There's no way in this inky underwater haven that I want them putting their hands on another woman. I'd probably flip out too, even without the weapon issue.
Conceding, I give him one word. "Fine."
"Good choice, little siren," Zeph murmurs in my ear. He no doubt understood the conflict weighing heavy in my chest without me having to speak a word of it.
However, I can't resist pushing his buttons at least a little. "Now, can we get back to the important matter at hand and train me?"
His scowl says a thousand things, but his lips as they slam down on mine, say something totally different. Unfortunately, his retribution is to let go and step back once my feet are on the floor. One glance at Zephyr has him moving away as well. Provoking my desire for them then retreating is enough of a punishment, leaving me cursing their sexy fish asses and fins. Not like I want to get it on here in a stranger's house or anything, but still, that's beside the point.
Zanthus takes the lead back outside. The generous Wallace is nowhere in sight, but I wouldn't have hung around if I were him either. The angry waves had been rolling off my brutish mate like a storm. Best just to move yourself out of his way. Back in the artificial sun, none of the sparring has stopped. The clash of metal rings out around us as much as the exertion from the males wielding them.
We make our way over to one of the groups closest to the barrier. Merrick is there to greet us from his spot on the sidelines. Once the other males take notice of the princes, they scoot around to clear the space and give them an unobstructed view inside the ring of bodies. Taking up a post between Zanthus and Merrick, leaving Zephyr to step against my back, I stand fixed in place in complete astonishment. The two mer males battling it out in front of us are polar opposites of each other yet neither seem to yield to the other. One is huge. Like I'm not a boulder, I'm a man huge. His shoulders are broad and dusted with a dark coating of hair. It almost matches the strands of color growing out of his head, though those are black as midnight. Bushy eyebrows risk smothering a set of hazel eyes and lead down into a broad nose. What's more distracting than anything is that he is the first of the mer to show any kind of preference toward heavy facial hair. His dark beard is chest length and adorned with glass beads at the bottom. Appearances aside, the way he moves with a sword is lithe and in complete contrast with his size.
Both he and his opponent have as many beaded braids as Zanthus, if not more. The other fighter is light in every place the larger one is dark, and they both fight as though their lives depend on it. This mer has silver hair chopped short at his chin with eyes to match. He's built slightly smaller than my Zs, but still emits that golden glow of a tan with muscles to go with it.
These two go their rounds until a voice calls out, "Draw."
They both freeze and bow to each other with a smile before turning to us with another. Zanthus nods, and they close the distance between us as two more fighters take their positions.
Zanthus tosses out an introduction as soon as the males are within earshot, motioning towards the big dark one first. "Rubi, this is Caelan and Easton. Clansmen, meet your future queen."
They bow deeply. Between their reception and Zanthus' purposely placed words, I blush harder than ever. I'm just glad Zephyr is at my back, so he can't bring attention to it. As the males rise, their curious eyes burn my skin, making it flush too. It doesn't last more than a few seconds before that possessive mate thing kicks in with Zanthus, and he lets out a high-pitched click of his tongue. My imagination tends to run wild sometimes, but there's no denying the extra space we acquire at that sound. It truly is almost comical.
"Pleased to meet you," I tell them both before their gazes flit over to their demanding prince. Zanthus motions with his head, and our little party of five starts on a path back towards the Keep, leaving Merrick to his own devices.
"Caelan was given the personal assignment of overseeing mine and my brother's training long ago," Zanthus tells me as we walk.
"Is he older than you?" I ask curiously. My first guess would've put him at the same age as my mates.
Zephyr snickers. "Oh, he's old alright."
For the first time since meeting them, Caelan speaks, his voice deep enough that I expect the ground to rumble beneath our feet with it. "I'm not as ancient as they make me sound, highness."