The Kiss That Saved Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 2) (52 page)

The light shines down, like a tonic after all the darkness that has covered our lives and the whales continue to sing. They erect themselves, their long bodies almost reaching the sea floor as their tails brush against the tall sea grass. They begin to spin, pirouetting and Callie follows. I wonder if they’re conversing with her, speaking in tongues that I can’t hear and all of a sudden I wish I was the one whispering to her. I wish I was the one making her beam and freeing her spirit from whatever burden that has been weighing on her. She’s so beautiful and her aquamarine eyes sparkle like precious stones as her scales shimmer.
 

She raises her arms and throws her head back, allowing the light from the surface to cover her face. She’s laughing wildly, like nothing in the world could touch her. It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look, more beautiful than the night we first met, more stunning than even her descent down the staircase at the Lunar Sanctum before I accepted my crown. I run my hand through my hair, unable to look away, and letting myself surrender not only to the awe-inspiring nature of the scene before me, but the truth. No matter what happens with this woman, to this woman, no matter how she hurts me or how much I want to escape her stubbornness, it still isn’t over.
 

It will never be over.
 

The light hitting the ocean dissipates as the sun sinks below the horizon. The moment has passed.
 

The whales still and something sacred passes between them and her. She smiles to herself, quietly content and then comes over to us, unable to wipe the ecstasy off her face.

“They want to escort us,” she breathes.

“Really?” Sophia bursts before I have a chance to respond.

“Yes,” Callie replies, quickly glancing to Sophia, as though she’s distracted her and then at me. “What? Is there something on my face?” She’s suddenly removed from the pedestal of goddess like grace on which she’d danced, and is back to being a self-conscious teenager. I realise I’m staring in a most obvious manner and have to put myself in check. I feel embarrassed for the fact I can’t take my eyes off of her. I must look like such a schmuck.

“No… uh. Sorry,” I shake my head, trying to clear the stupid out.

“So we can go now?” Callie is waiting for my approval and I nod silently. She turns, looking to the pod of humpbacks and gesturing for them to follow. The mermaids pick up their weapons from the ground and Azure moves over to Philippe who is nibbling tentatively on sea grass nearby. The waters are dim now that the light of the day is almost gone and we travel in silence, our forms undulating together, surrounded by the massive shadows of the whales that aren’t so close to be intruding, but close enough to make sure we’re safe should any demons attack.
 

As the night drives forward, lost in the din of far off echoes and chatter, I find myself confronted with something I’ve only ever seen once, something I’ve wanted to revisit but I had never found the time to travel so far north.

“What is it?” Callie is curious, and her proximity, which I hadn’t noticed, is suddenly startling.

“It’s the place where two seas meet. The Baltic Sea begins here. But it’s water doesn’t mix with that of the Gulf of Alaska, something about too much iron I think,” I explain, moving across the boundary and into the water deposited by glacial rivers. I shudder slightly, letting the cold wash over me. As a mer, it doesn’t affect me like it would a human, but it still feels too chilly for my liking.

“You know everything,” Callie smiles. I remember her saying something similar to me when I had taken her to the cave where I had counted my years alone, and my heart weeps nostalgia.

“Not even close. I promise you,” I roll my eyes, thinking of all the things I wish that I did know. I wish I knew how to fix things with her. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Most of all I wish I knew how to be the kind of man and ruler she deserves. Sadly, on all of these I’m a blank slate.
 

She’s silent, her eyes watching my face with intrigue. It’s like any ounce of anger or fear that was driving her before has evaporated. “Back there… I mean… wow,” I feel nervous. Like I’m talking to a stranger almost.

“Don’t. There are no words. I don’t want to ruin it with classification or poor attempts at description.” Her face is an oxymoron of conflicted feeling. She breathes and a wave of calm engulfs her body.

“Okay,” I exhale, not mad, just tired. I want to communicate, but it’s like we’re speaking two different languages.

“This is awkward,” she whispers and I laugh.

“Yeah, why is that?” I reply, feeling my gut twist with anxiety.

“Maybe we’re just like the two sea’s that meet but don’t mix.” She has this inspired thought, spilling it in a moment of pure reckless abandon.

“Don’t say that,” I whisper back, aware that the voices around us have ceased. I feel like I might cry. “I’m sorry… I just, I missed you,” I blurt the words without a second thought for my reputation, how weak I look by buckling under the weight of her absence.

“I missed you, too,” she sighs. I start to respond, but she speaks again suddenly, not filtering what she’s saying. “We need to talk. I know that. But we can’t do it here. Everyone is staring,” she’s looking around, conscious of her actions as a ruler. It’s the first time I’ve seen her care about spilling our personal life to the entire mer population and it once again cements the fact that she’s matured.

“Okay. I can wait,” I sigh and she looks crestfallen, her lips pressed hard in the darkness.
 

“Wait right here,” she commands suddenly, and then she’s gone into the murky distance. She returns, her swimming speed faster than I’d ever seen before.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her. We slide into the foggy distance together, as she leads me toward the mother whale. “She’s going to give us some privacy.” She explains and my forehead creases, not understanding her meaning at all. She rolls her eyes, not wanting to explain and pulls me again, onto the whale’s back, lying down on her stomach. I follow her and slowly the mother humpback rises.
 

We emerge from the surface on whale back, icy water falling from my skin and scales as the night sky opens up above us and the smell of pine hits my nostrils with a pungent and cool freshness.
 

“Wow,” is all I can manage to utter as Callie smiles at me, her eyes shiny.

“Now,” she sighs, “we can talk.”

CALLIE

The sky is alight with a million stars, cold and crisp, contrasting against the utter blackness of the surrounding wilderness. Orion is on his back, lying with his hands behind his head, his abs cut and pectorals rising and falling lazily with his breath. It reminds me of the nights we spent on the beach in San Diego, when everything was so new and fresh. Lighter almost.
 

“So…” Orion starts and my heart begins to pound. This is the conversation I’ve been most dreading. I’m different now, and I know I trust him. I can’t keep holding back or I’m never going to move forward. He suddenly exhales and stops talking.

“So…” I continue. It’s awkward and the air between us isn’t just chill; it’s dense, dense with everything that hasn’t been said.

“Nice night, right?” Orion cocks an eyebrow and I melt slightly, bursting out into a massive full-bellied laugh that I can’t contain.

“Oh yeah, great. We’re fleeing from a group of savage killers, freezing our balls off in the process, and I’m trying to whip a bunch of Barbies into G.I Jane,” my sarcasm metre is exploding and Orion laughs too. He’s actually almost crying because he’s laughing so much he can’t breathe.

“Some rulers we make!” He blurts and I start laughing all over again. It’s absolutely insane. We’re fleeing to the farthest reaches of the earth because the guy we trusted turned out to be a psychopath and Orion and I are in charge. Absolutely. Freaking. Hilarious.

“When did everything get so completely screwed up?” I ask him and he smiles coyly.

“I don’t know,” he sighs outward, giving a final chuckle. “Somewhere between when I started adorning my head with jewellery and trying to make you wear an engagement ring.” That stops my laughing cold.

“So we agree then. Jewellery is to blame?” I ask, serious this time as I stare into his eyes. The whale shifts beneath us slightly and I watch as ocean passes us by.

“I guess what’s happened makes our problems seem kind of ridiculous,” he shakes his head, freeing several cool droplets from his tangled mahogany locks. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I gush my next statement.

“I just, I wish we’d talked more. You needed me. I know that. But I just couldn’t talk to you.” He sits up suddenly, his head coming close to mine. His icy blue eyes bear into me.

“Why?” He is curious and I wonder if perhaps I’d spoken to him sooner I could have prevented all this. Was a lack of communication really at the root of everything?

“You… you were so cut off. I tried to talk to you about everything… about that night I died. About your father. I couldn’t reach you,” I whisper, scared of my own words.

“I know. I don’t deal with loss well. I guess that’s a side effect of having everyone you love live forever,” he blinks, looking at me.
 

Finally.
He does understand.

“I should have done more. I should have been there for you better,” I admit. It isn’t all Orion’s fault. I’m just as uncommunicative sometimes, if not worse.

“You were there for me.”

“I swam away. You asked me to marry you and instead of talking to you about why I wasn’t ready, I left. That’s my fault.” I’m feeling very earnest, like the silence encasing us is allowing me to finally open my heart all the way out.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Saturnus, but I won’t lie, it stung like a bitch when you said no. I let my pride get in the way. I should have listened to you, even though I was hurt,” he confesses this truth.

“I just felt trapped. Like all control was being taken away from me. I’m just a teenager; I don’t want a crown or a ring. I just wanted you,” I make the next confession and he smiles to himself.

“I shouldn’t have trapped you in. You’re so… different now. You’re growing into this incredible woman. I didn’t see it. You have the potential to be so much. So much more than a wife.” I want to cry as he whispers these words to me, feeling every ounce of the darkness in my soul evaporate as I fall into his eyes, wrapping myself up in his words. “I wanted you to be what I wanted. It’s only now that I see how stupid that is. You’re far too beautiful and far too unique for me to even begin to put my finger on what you are, let alone what you should be.” His eyes fall and I breathe outward. He finally sees that I’m best when I’m free. I need him to know that doesn’t mean I’ll leave. Not anymore, I’m not fleeing any longer.

“You should know no matter how far I go, I’ll always come back to you,” I whisper.
 

“I’m your anchor,” he kisses my forehead and I want to weep. Be weak and crumble into him.
 

“Why didn’t we ever talk like this before?” I ask him and he smiles.

“Because we’re stupid.”

“I was so mad at you… until…” I stop, blushing slightly.

“Until?” He asks, not letting the sentence drop.

“Until I saw you looking at me today. With the whales. I saw the look on your face and I
knew
I would never find anyone who adored me like that,” I admit this to myself and a shrill terror runs through me.
 

He’s the one.
 

It’s like I’m feeling what that really means for the first time. It means I have to take care of him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Once he’s gone, there’ll never be anyone like him again.

“I like this honesty thing. I so often wish I knew what you are thinking,” Orion admits.

“Why don’t you just ask?” I cock an eyebrow.

“You’re not forthcoming either,” he laughs slightly and I hit him across the arm. It reminds me of something and suddenly my heart sinks like a stone.

“In the uh, spirit of honesty. There’s something I have to confess. But you’re not going to like it,” I breathe out, exhaling and trying to calm myself.