Cursed Tides (Daughter of Air Book 1) by Kerrion Jade

Author:Kerrion, Jade [Kerrion, Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

V arun’s grip steadied her. Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

Not a ghost. She moved to the side so that he could look out.

Is that the mer-king?

Yes.

You recognize him.

Yes, Ashe replied softly. She stared down at her hands. They trembled, although her voice did not.

He glanced over his shoulder. But don’t merfolk only live for about three hundred years?

Yes.

Then you knew him when he was a child?

Yes.

Irritation flashed in his eyes. No doubt he was tired of asking one question after another, but her answers stuttered, even in the privacy of her thoughts. Well, who is he? Varun asked.

My son.

His jaw dropped. You have a son? A husband?

She nodded. Technically, she had a mate, not a husband, but she was not in a mood to debate the semantics.

You left them both? For my great-whatever-grandfather?

It’s not that simple.

Although, it had seemed simple then. She had crept into the nursery in the early hours of dawn. Zamir had been asleep, but as she stood over the cradle, stroking his hair, he awoke and blinked sleepy eyes. A dazzling smile lit his face. “Mama,” he cooed, raising his arms to be held.

She had decided not to carry him—if she did, she might never be able to leave—but she could not deny him now. She picked him up and cradled him against her beating heart. “I won’t be gone long,” she promised him. “And when I come back, I’ll have something really special for you.”

His smile faded. Had he sensed her grief? “Mama?” He snuggled against her. His small hands gripped her, trying to keep her close. “Love Mama.”

“I know,” she murmured, although she did not know whether he was asking for love, or telling her that he loved her. It did not matter. Either way, love was the reason, and the answer. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, to his cheeks, and to his lips. She picked up the amber figurine he had flung aside in his sleep, and kissed it too, before offering it to him. Zamir pulled it against his tiny chest, and hugged it with all his strength. “Wait for me, Zamir. I’ll come back. Whatever it takes, I’ll come back.”

He had wailed when she left him. Her last glance of him was of his arms reaching out to her, of tears streaming down his cheeks.

She had lied. She had not come back. Not for two hundred and ninety-seven years.

Now, almost three centuries later, she glanced down at the toy she held—the same one she had pressed into Zamir’s embrace.

Varun’s voice, gentler now, whispered through her thoughts. What happened?

How could a question pierce her on so many levels? I don’t know. We have to find out. Come. This way. She led Varun back along the narrow tunnel, through more twisting corridors, and into a spacious section of the palace. Precious stones turned the ceiling and walls into a mosaic of colors; the repeating pattern created a dizzying illusion of more space than actually existed.

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