Sea Witch(60)

That day. Evie and the heavy waves. The dare. The undertow. She would still be alive if Evie hadn’t suggested the race.

The little mermaid began to sob—this time very aware that she could shed no tears as a mermaid like she had been able to in a past life. And, oh, how she craved that release.

She’d drowned that day.

Or nearly drowned—she was clearly alive, though her life had been stolen away. Her father—the sea king—must have saved her, or he wouldn’t have kept her for his own.

He’d lied to her. They’d all lied to her. Told her she was one of them. Kept her in the dark.

The little mermaid sobbed again, her eyes stinging as she watched the ship float along, the life she could’ve been living happening above.

And then the last chunk of blackness evaporated. The last images she’d seen as a human surged forth.

Evie drifting down toward her.

Nik’s lithe form racing toward her friend’s limp body, drawing Evie up to the surface and away. Evie first. Always first.

Then, several minutes later, his shadow returning, his eyes landing on her own body, prone near the seafloor. Him bobbing back to the surface.

Him swimming back down but then stalling out. Caught in the waves by another boy. The one Evie liked—Iker. Another prince.

Nik could’ve fought, but he’d let Iker pull him up. He’d given up.

Their friendship, the way she felt about him, her life—none of that mattered.

The golden glow around her memories of Nik and her human life with him evaporated. Her fond memories of Evie, the girl who was like the sister she never had, gone. Her happy memories of Iker, always a handsome distraction, no more.

All that was left was anger.

Fury.

Ire.

She wanted to break it all. Shatter it all. Ruin it all.

She wanted retribution for all that had been stolen from her.

She wasn’t human anymore because of the choices of these three. She was magic, though. A being of intense and beautiful magic. There was no place the magic ended and she began. She didn’t have her rightful life, her soul, but she had her magic and her anger.

And she wanted to use them.

“Ve?r.”

Storm. Yes. Storm.

“Ve?r,” she repeated, feeling the magic surge in her veins, saturate her skin, tingle behind her eyes.

She was magic. She was the storm.

“Ve?r.” Above a clap of thunder rolled, loud enough to shake her waves. It was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. Yet she wanted to see this happen. See the destruction. Endless waves, and yet she’d suddenly felt so confined.

But she wasn’t. A light went on in the darkness, and she knew she could go above.

The day she’d been told was her birthday—three days from now—wasn’t her birthday. It was the day she’d lost her rightful life and been reborn, but not the day of her true birth. She’d shared that day with Nik, so if this was his birthday, it was hers as well. She was fifteen. She could go above.

The little mermaid repeated her command as she pushed for the surface. Lightning was growing, the wind was picking up, and the waves were rocking. The boat’s hull swayed and suddenly filled with light. People running from her power. Hiding below.

But not everyone.

As she crested the surface she saw the three people from her memories—from that day—up top. She knew they’d be there—always acting like heroes.

Except when it came to her. Their bravery had a limit.

And she would make them suffer.

The boat lurched as Evie and Iker tried to steady it. Nik took orders from his cousin—of course he did—and went to the side of the ship to cut free a little attached schooner.

It was her chance.

“Ve?r.”

Waves rocked the ship and the prince faltered, hanging on with all his strength. And just when he seemed to settle into his balance, the little mermaid sent the largest wave yet—bigger than the wall of memories that had struck her, bigger than any she’d seen with human eyes—right into the boy who hadn’t saved her.

The ship tipped. And over Nik went, into the sea.

His eyes were shut when he appeared before her—his head striking the hull of the schooner on the way down. No blood. Just Nik, floating before her, looking almost as if he was sleeping.

Peaceful.

The little mermaid took his face into her hands. He looked older now, the beginnings of a beard scraping against her fingertips.

“Why didn’t you fight for me? Why?”

Nik answered in bubbles, his lungs failing him.

She thought to let them fail.

She thought to let him become bones in the sand. Her revenge. Yet somehow that didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel great enough. It wouldn’t get her what she wanted back.

And so she brought him to air. Swam him ashore. Her mind churning with possibility as his chest rose and fell in her arms.

The sea king had made her a mermaid—not her choice, not what she wanted. The little mermaid wanted to live above the sea. And she would find the magic to change herself back.

Then she would get her revenge.





27


THE RECEIVING LINE FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY SEEMS TO be a mile long—it curves through the hallways, down the staircase, and out of ?ldenburg Castle. It doesn’t make it down the exterior stairs and into the tulip garden, but it would have if they’d waited another five minutes to open the ballroom doors.