Enslaved by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 3) by Starla Night

Author:Starla Night [Night, Starla]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Soren wanted a queen. Not Aya. A powerful warrior capable of clearing the battlefield with a sonic boom. The burning faith in his dark eyes singed her with sharp promise.

How ironic. The one time she found a man who loved her high achievements — instead of being emasculated by them — was the one time she couldn’t achieve anything.

If she could only figure out which muscle to flex, she would spend all her time becoming Soren’s powerful queen. And then, when she mastered her power, she’d marry him.

But if he rejected her…

Aya closed her eyes and turned away. Soren’s strong arm locked around her belly. His steady warmth guarded her back. Holding her loosely, comforting her but giving her room to breathe.

His love brought tears to her eyes.

Probably because she’d started thinking about parents, her mind drifted back to the last time she’d seen her dad.

He left when she was three and started a new family in the suburbs. No Christmas present, birthday card, or anything was sent her way. After he was gone, it was like he died. Or she did.

Until high school.

In her last year of the underage division of swimming, her name was published in the news as a competitor in the state meet. And for some reason, her dad had come. She saw him in the stands watching, and she knew it was him because she’d looked him up a few times.

It was hard to hide in the modern world. Everyone was findable online. Employee photos, directories, alumni reports. She’d wanted to know more about this man who’d dropped out of her life.

Apparently he’d wanted to know about her too. She resolved to show him her best. And so she swam her heart out and won first place.

After the meet, high with the congratulations of her coaches and teammates, she passed him outside the building and stopped. He was standing by himself, a loner like her, smoking a cigarette pinched between his middle finger and his thumb. She didn’t realize he smoked. He looked up and caught her eye, and she took that as a sign to approach.

He jerked his chin at her medal. “You won.”

She clenched the gold disk tightly.

His gaze shifted beyond her. “Your mom here?”

Aya shook her head.

His gaze narrowed. “Guess you’re just like her. Don’t need anyone. You’re fine without me.”

Her heart stopped.

He tossed the cigarette on the ground, crushed it out with the heel of his scuffed brown loafers, and headed to the parking lot. Dead smoke curled from the smashed wreck of paper. It looked the approximate size and shape of her heart.

That was the last time they talked.

She threw her first place medal in the bottom of a winter ski clothes box and shoved it under the bed. She quit swimming a month later to concentrate on her studies.

What was happening on the surface? To her company? To her old life?

Did her dad know she was gone, or care? Did her mom? Did anyone?

Here, beneath the waves, she mattered.

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