Wildfire Sea Dragon (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew Book 3), page 18
“Not exactly. I ran all the way to the diner where my mom was working as a waitress, screaming and sobbing the whole way. When she finally calmed me down enough to get me to choke out what had happened...”
Seven had to stop again. That was another face that was burned in her memory—her mother’s expression in that moment. It had been the only time she’d seen her mother’s smile crack. The first time she’d realized that her mother could feel lost and terrified too.
“She took me by the hand,” she said, living it again as she spoke. “She marched straight out without even a word to her manager. We left Ochre Rock within the hour. By the time night fell, we were halfway across Arizona. We thought we’d gotten away. And then, the next evening, there was a knock on the door of our motorhome. My mother answered it with her shotgun loaded and ready.”
A kind of crazy hilarity bubbled up inside her, at the bizarre workings of fate. Of all the people who could have knocked on her door that night…she hung onto Joe’s neck, fighting to control a sudden fit of giggles.
“And that,” she concluded, “is the story of how my mother nearly shot your father.”
“My dad?” Joe yelped—and the rest was lost in bubbles, as the water closed over both their heads.
Seven kicked her way back to the surface, dragging Joe with her. “For the Crown Prince of Atlantis, you are remarkably bad at swimming.”
“Hey, you’re the one who keeps dropping these depth charges on me.” He shook water out of his eyes, grinning at her ruefully. “But yeah, we’d better continue this conversation back on land. I need solid ground under my feet for this.”
He ducked away, his long, lean body cutting smoothly through the waters. He certainly could swim, when he remembered to. Seven couldn’t resist dropping back a little, the better to admire the flex of his muscled back.
He got to the shore first, and turned to offer her his hand, bowing like an old-fashioned gentleman helping a lady out of a carriage. He even mimed sweeping off an imaginary top hat. She rolled her eyes at him, but felt a smile tug at her lips anyway. She took his hand, letting him escort her out of the water.
She squeezed out of her braids, holding them away from her skin. “We should have brought towels. I can hardly parade through the base in my underwear, but I can’t put my armor back on while I’m dripping wet.”
“It’s a warm night. We’ll dry off soon. Just have to wait a little while to get dressed.” Joe’s voice dropped a little, taking on a hungry, feral edge that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. His heated gaze swept over her, slowly, from head to toe. “What a pity.”
His wet jeans clung to him, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Seven dragged her own eyes up to his face. “I’m afraid that if you want to hear the end of the story, you’re going to have to put a shirt on. Whether you’re dry or not.”
His mouth quirked in a cocky, masculine grin. “Hey now, not fair. You can’t expect me to put clothes on over wet skin if you aren’t going to. Anyway, I don’t see what your problem is. I’m just standing here.”
He flexed, abs rippling in a way that got Seven’s full attention. She found herself taking a step toward him, her hands reaching out as though drawn by magnets.
The playfulness vanished from his face the instant her fingertips made contact with his skin. In a swift, sudden movement, he captured her hand, pressing her palm against his hard chest. A jolt of heat shot down her arm, straight to her core.
“Sea.” He breathed the word as though it was a curse. “I want you.”
He dragged her unresisting hand downward. Everything else flew out of her head. Her pulse pounded between her legs as he guided her over his ridged muscles, under the edge of his waistband, down further—
He hissed another curse, yanking her hand back up again. She couldn’t help the muffled sound of protest that escaped her lips.
“Sorry.” He released her, stepping away. He adjusted his jeans. “Got—got carried away. I think you’d better put my shirt on.”
“That really wouldn’t help,” she got out through the waves of desire pounding through her blood. “Not me, at least.”
He flashed her a pained grin. “And considering that we’ve established that you can turn me on in turn outs, it probably wouldn’t help me all that much either. But much as I want you, I also want to hear the rest of your story.” He flopped down onto the grassy lakeshore, flinging one arm across his eyes. “Okay. I’m listening, and not looking. Talk fast before I run out of willpower. You said that my dad found you and your mom?”
She sat down next to him, doing her best not to look at him either. “I found out later that the Master Shark had called him. Told him what had happened, and where to find me. The Imperial Champion must have dropped everything and travelled without rest to catch up with us. All for one confused, scared little girl.”
“Yes,” he said softly. His arm still hid his eyes, but his mouth curved in a small, fond smile. “That sounds like my dad.”
“He turned up in full armor.” She smiled as well, thinking of that tall, shining figure incongruously framed by the door of their motorhome. “I think that was the only reason my mother didn’t shoot him. He looked like he’d stepped out of a fairytale. He was too unreal to be a threat. He bowed to her, as though she was a queen, and he told her he was a knight of the First Water. And that he had come to protect us.”
She remembered his gauntleted hands, holding out his sword to her. Her own fingers had looked tiny and frail in comparison. She hadn’t understood then what he was doing, what a sea dragon’s oath meant, not even what a Knight of the First Water was.
But when she’d touched the worn hilt of the sword, when she’d looked into his indigo eyes, when she’d heard his voice…she’d known that he was speaking the truth. That he would protect them, just like he said, to his dying breath. That she and her mother were safe at last, because he was strong enough to protect them from anything.
And she could still remember, with utter clarity, thinking: I want to be like that.
She glanced at Joe and found him watching her from beneath his arm. His eyes were steady and thoughtful, as though he’d heard what she hadn’t said.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, that’s pretty much all there is to tell. The Knights of the First Water took care of my father and his thugs. The Sea Council worked out an arrangement with my mother. She let me come to Atlantis so I could learn about my shifter side.”
Joe was still watching her with that intent, unwavering focus. “The Sea Council tried to foster you with a shark family, right?”
How had he guessed that? “Yes. But I wouldn’t go. I’d already decided that there was only one path for me. I was stubborn enough that they eventually relented, and let me join the preliminary training classes for sea dragons aspiring to join the knights. I suspect your father had something to do with that. They would never have accepted a shark without some quiet pressure from the Pearl Throne.”
“Hey, don’t give him too much credit. He might have got you in the door, but you’re the one who earned your place. I know the knights only pick about one in ten aspirants to become novices.” A swift, sudden grin flashed across Joe’s face. “My youngest sister is in training now. She’s hoping to be good enough to be chosen as a squire next year. She’s a nervous wreck about it. Maybe you can give her some tips.”
Seven privately thought that a royal princess of the Pearl Throne had very little need of her advice. The knights were supposed to be blind to bloodline when deciding who was worthy to join the Order…but there were a suspiciously high number of noble-born squires.
“Anyway, the rest you know.” She waved at her discarded armor and stun sword. “And that’s why I am the way I am. You accused me of being afraid of my animal, Joe. I’m not, truly. I just take no pride in it either. I wasn’t raised as a shark. It doesn’t form part of my identity, not the way that your own animal does for you. Can you understand that?”
“Yes.” Amusement fell away from his face. “I think I understand now. You want to be a sea dragon knight. That’s your identity.”
“Exactly,” she said, relieved. “My shark is just a handicap to overcome. I refuse to have my destiny determined by some accident of bloodline. You of all people should understand—”
“No,” Joe interrupted. He propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze holding hers. “I mean, you want to be a sea dragon knight. Seven, if Lord Azure appeared right now, this instant, and knighted you at last, would that be enough? Would you be the person that you want to be? Would you finally be happy?”
The words struck her harder than any blow she’d ever taken in combat.
Because the answer was: No.
Lord Azure could knight her. Her hair could be weighed down with golden honor-tokens. The entire city of Atlantis could hail her as a hero.
And it would still never be enough.
She looked down, shredding bits of grass between her fingers. “You must think me very foolish.”
“Oh, Seven.” Joe sat up, hitching himself closer. He put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side. “I get it, you know. I really do. When I was a kid, I wanted more than anything in the world to measure up to my mom and dad. I know how much it hurts to want to be like someone, with all your soul, only to discover that you never can.”
She leaned into his warmth. His salt-sea scent wrapped around her like a quilt. “You didn’t keep dashing your heart against an impossible dream, though.”
She felt him let out a long, heavy sigh. “No. I kinda went the other way. I couldn’t live up to my role models, but I sure could be their exact opposite. I’m not claiming that’s any better.”
She closed her eyes against the burn of tears. “When I was a child, a magical knight in shining armor rescued me from a monster. He whisked me away to an enchanted underwater kingdom. I learned that dreams could come true.”
She longed to keep clinging to him, drawing strength from his strength…but she straightened her spine, pulling away. The warm summer night suddenly felt much colder on her damp skin.
“I never learned that not all dreams could come true,” she said. “You are right. I need to finally face reality, and find new dreams. I will never be a sea dragon.”
Joe started to speak, but she put a finger against his lips, stopping him. For a moment, she let her hand linger on his face, feeling the softness of his mouth, the slight rasp of stubble on his jaw.
Then she let him go. She sat back, set her shoulders, and made herself say what she must.
“And I will never be a knight, either.”
Chapter 25
“What?” He stared at her, trying to work out how in the sea she’d come to that conclusion. “Seven, you’re already more of a knight than most of the knights I know.”
“But I am not a knight. No matter how I act, how I feel, I cannot take that title for myself. It can only be given to me by another knight.” Seven sat very straight, her shoulders squared. Only the slightest tremble to her lower lip betrayed how hard she was fighting to keep her composure. “And Lord Azure will never do that. Because I am abandoning my quest.”
“You mean your assignment as my bodyguard?” Joe wanted to reach for her, but something about her tight, rigid posture warned him off. “Seven, I thought we’d been through this. You didn’t fail today because you aren’t a dragon. You saved me.”
“Yes. Today. But tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, I will not.” Her grey eyes flashed, stopping him as he tried to object. “You saw it, Joe. Over and over again. You knew that it was a warning that I could not stand by your side. Do not try to claim otherwise now.”
“But I’m not getting that vision anymore.” Joe waved at the lake, which still showed him nothing but the reflection of the moon. “We didn’t need to capture Lupa after all. By driving the hellhound pack off today, you changed that future.”
“No. That is not what changed the future.” Seven rose—not with her usual fluid grace, but jerkily, as though her own body was fighting her. “This is what changed it.”
She turned, picking up her discarded stunsword. He hadn’t the faintest clue what she was doing…until she went to both knees in front of him, offering him the weapon.
Not across her palms, in the manner of a knight swearing an oath.
Hilt-first.
Every sea dragon knew that gesture. It signaled deepest shame, an admission of utter loss of honor. In ancient times, a knight who offered their sword like that expected the recipient to draw it…and strike off the failed knight’s head.
These days, the ritual gesture wasn’t treated as a literal request for assisted suicide, but he still scrabbled back as though the pearl-inlaid pommel was a live viper. “No. No, Seven. I’m not touching that.”
“You have no choice.” She laid the weapon at his feet, gently, carefully. “I swore an oath to stand by your side. That cannot simply be retracted. It can only be undone by death, or dishonor. You must take my sword, Joe. It is the only way that I can stand aside, so that someone worthier can take my place. Someone who will be able to succeed where I would have failed. Someone who will be able to protect you in the battle that still lies ahead.”
To touch the sword would be to accept her self-proclaimed dishonor. He made futile flapping gestures at the weapon, as though it was a chicken he could shoo back to Seven. “There’s no one worthier than you. I want you at my side, guarding my back. I need you.”
“Joe.” Seven circled round the sword to crouch in front of him. She took his head between her hands, making him meet her steady, certain gaze. “I need you too. I need you to be safe. You told me yourself that I was not going to be able to protect you, but my pride and dreams of knighthood deluded me into trying anyway. I know better now. I have to return to Atlantis, so that someone stronger can take my place as your bodyguard.”
“But your knighthood.” His distress distorted the human words, blending them with a sea dragon’s keening cry of grief. “Your dream.”
She bent over him, her braids swinging to curtain them both. Gently, so gently, her mouth brushed his. He closed his eyes, tears leaking from under the lids, as she kissed him; softly, sweetly.
“It was a false dream,” she whispered against his lips. “Just a delusion. You have shown me the truth. You are my dream now. And this is the only way I can keep you safe.”
He couldn’t let her do this. He couldn’t.
But if he did…
She would go back to Atlantis.
She would be safe.
NO! his sea dragon bellowed, shaking the foundations of his mind. She is our mate! We need her at our side, always!
He drew back from Seven a little. “Can—can you give me a second?”
She must have guessed his intentions. She nodded, releasing him.
His dragon fought him all the way to the water. He ignored its furious roars, locking it away behind the sea-wall that divided his soul. Seven didn’t let her shark rule her decisions. There were times you had to think with your head, not your heart.
At the edge of the lake, he stopped. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his will.
Please, he silently begged fate, or destiny, or the sea itself. Show me what to do.
He looked down into the lake.
Joe stood still and silent. The minutes stretched out, long enough that Seven began to wonder if he was having a vision.
But his eyes didn’t flicker to follow the ghosts of the future. His scent didn’t change, either with distress or relief. He just stared down into the water, absolutely motionless.
And she knew, in her heart of hearts, that he saw nothing but his own reflection.
He turned away at last. The agony in his eyes nearly broke her. She lifted her chin, forcing her own expression to remain calm and certain. He had to make the right decision. She had to make this easy for him.
“You promise you’ll go back to Atlantis?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“I will. I would stay at your side if I could, even in dishonor, but you will be safer without me. As long as I am on land, there is a risk that our enemies could capture me.” She smiled at him, to hold back her tears. “I know only too well what you would do in that situation.”
He made a sound that was half acknowledgement, half pain. “Serve myself up on a silver platter with an apple in my mouth. Oh, sea. I hate this.” He scrubbed his hands across his face. “Damn us sea dragons and our stupid customs and our stupid, stupid honor. What idiot came up with the concept of a binding vow, anyway? People shouldn’t be shunned for changing their minds. And you shouldn’t idolize sea dragons. We suck.”
She picked up her stunsword, for the last time. Once more, she offered him the hilt, laid across her forearm.
“Please, Joe,” she whispered. “For me. For us.”
His hand hovered over the hilt. He reached for it, then jerked back. His mouth twisted in misery.
With a low, animal sound of pure pain, he put his palm on the pommel. He barely touched it, yet Seven felt the jolt of it all down her arm. It was as intimate as if he’d laid his hand against her naked skin; more than that. It felt like he was holding her exposed, beating heart.
“My prince,” she said formally, fighting with every ounce of willpower not to break down. “I leave your service. I forsake my vow and break my oaths. My hand dishonors this blade. I relinquish it to you in reparation for the harm I have caused. May you find one worthier to bear it.”
Slowly, carefully, he took her weapon from her. It was like losing a limb.
“I accept your blade.” He put it down, carefully, as though it was a sleeping infant. When he straightened again, his eyes were fierce, blazing with an emotion she’d never seen there before. “But only for now. Because what you have touched, no other may claim. I will guard what is yours until you return to take it up once more.”
