“The human and Mageri governments don’t know that Atlantis is real. All they have is myth and rumor and we prefer to keep it that way. This world isn’t ready for such advancements.”
“Is that why you’re not allowed to use your full power on land?”
“Yes. It risks detection and is grounds for automatic removal from the Atlantean databases.”
“Which means you can’t come back here. Can’t risk leading them back here.”
“Yes. It also leaves us banned from being on land, stripping us of our ability to breathe outside of the oceans. Humanity is ruled by supernatural forces now. They may have their own government, but that government isn’t autonomous. The Mageri rule it also. Left to their own devices, humans are destructive beings, hellbent on war and anarchy in the pursuit of power. The supernatural reign keeps them in check. It protects this world. Our technology has the power to change that power dynamic.”
“I don’t understand.”
Pontus began to load a plate with food. “If humans learned of our tech, they would find a way to weaponize it. To use it against the Mageri, because that is what humans do. They aren’t evolved enough to handle this kind of power peacefully. Not yet anyway.”
I couldn’t argue with him because history backed him up. The rise of the supernatural, our stepping out of the shadows, had been what saved this world. Yes, the supernaturals had waged their own wars, but never to the detriment of the earth itself.
“Here, eat.” He handed me a plate piled with what looked like bacon and some fluffy white stuff that might be their equivalent of eggs.
I took a bite of the bacon stuff and moaned in delight as the salty, meaty flavor took over my tongue.
“Good?”
“Like bacon got an upgrade.”
He chuckled. “Try the eggs.”
They were sweet and made the perfect complement to the bacon. “Wow.”
He handed me a cup of what looked like black coffee and smelled like it too. I took a sip. Sweet with a hint of bitterness, it was flavorsome and aromatic, unlike any coffee brand I’d ever tasted.
“What is it? I doubt you have coffee plants in Atlantis.”
“They’re called Javiana beans. Similar to what you call coffee. We have our own agricultural sectors here in Atlantis where we’ve preserved and cultivated flora from our home planet. We also have farms where we rear fauna from Atlantis.”
“It’s delicious.” I licked my lips and his gaze dropped to my mouth, reminding me that we were alone in his private quarters.
His gaze flicked up to meet mine. “Come here.” It was softly said and yet the command was implicit.
I set my plate down and rounded the coffee table to stand in front of him.
He gently gripped my wrist and tugged me onto his lap before running a hand up my spine and gripping my nape.
I looked down into his face, familiar but different. The softness was gone as Pontus, leaving only harsh planes and lines. His eyes seemed to bore into my soul, and that mouth. Fuck…
“Do you want to kiss me?” His tone was deeper now and the vibration of it beat against my body.
“Yes…”
“Then take what you want, Quinn.”
My pulse fluttered at the base of my throat as I dipped my head to brush my lips against his.
He stilled, the hand at my nape flexing. I pulled back a little, breathing shallow and fast, eyes fluttering closed as I inhaled his fresh ocean scent and reveled in the connection between us, a connection that bloomed warm and inviting in my chest and begged to be explored.
I slid my hands into his silken hair and kissed him, nudging his lips with mine, urging him to open for me, to lose control.
He did, unraveling beneath me, deepening the kiss to something ravenous and primal. His free hand fell to my hips, pulling me tight against him.
I pushed him back into his seat, devouring him, desperate to be closer, to be connected physically as well as metaphysically. I broke from his lips, mouth falling to his neck, hands tearing at the collar of his shirt. Fuck, I needed to taste him, to explore and—
“Ahem!”
Pontus tensed beneath me, and I froze mid tongue trail across his collarbone.
“So sorry to interrupt,” Thalassa said with a smile in her voice.
My cheeks burned as I sat up.
“Ever heard of knocking?” Pontus said coolly.
I glanced at his face, composed, almost unaffected, where a moment ago he’d been moaning with pleasure. Heck, I’d felt his potent desire, could still feel it pressed to my thigh.
“I did knock,” Thalassa said. “You were obviously too preoccupied to hear me.”
I made to move off Pontus’s lap but his grip on me tightened. “Did you speak to Uron?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He’ll see you now.”
Pontus’s eyebrow lifted. “Oh, really?”
“But not privately. Publicly.”
I felt Pontus tense beneath me. “I should have figured. He wants to root out the transgressor.”
“What?”
Pontus absently massaged my nape. “Your Atlantean ancestor.”
My ancestor. Family.
Pontus released me. It was my cue to vacate his lap. I stood and adjusted my top.
“Is the whole consul to be present?” Pontus asked.
Thalassa sighed. “I would assume so. It’s not every day one of the original seven brings home a soulmate.”
Pontus rose with a sigh. “In that case, let’s get this done.”
14
Thalassa did her teleporting trick again, transporting us into the center of a circular chamber decorated in white and silver. A line-up of thirteen Atlanteans, males and females dressed in silver and white, looked down at us from a long balcony suspended seemingly in the air.
My gaze zeroed in on the central figure, dark-haired with sandy streaks, eyes so blue they looked like sapphires. This had to be Uron, because the family resemblance was uncanny.
“We welcome you home, Pontus,” Uron said. “And your soulmate too.”
His gaze tracked over me, then flicked to the members of the consul, assessing each one.
Was he looking for a tell? Something to show that one of these forbidding figures recognized me as kin? For what it was worth, I felt nothing for any of them. My only connection in this room was to Pontus.
“Thank you for the audience.” Pontus sounded about as grateful as someone who’d just been punched in the face.
“Make your petition,” Uron said.
“I wish to cement my soul bond with my mate forgoing the test.”
Murmurs broke out down the line of consul members, but none of them addressed us directly. They all looked to Uron and waited.
I guess he was the mouthpiece.
“The test is not negotiable,” Uron said.
“That’s not strictly true, though, is it?” Pontus said. “Nowhere in Atlantean law does it say the test cannot be waived. No one has simply ever asked.”
Murmurs once again.
Uron slow-blinked. “You are correct. Nowhere does it state that the test cannot be waived.”
“It is a consul decision, and I make my petition that in this case it be waived.”