Page 69 of Ensnaring the Siren

All that was left to do was go home. Nireed wasn’t keen to get to the moment when Aersila scented Reid on her again, even after swimming sixty miles, but there was nothing for it. She couldn’t avoid her older sister forever.

Nireed took several centering passes outside their shared abode, getting air through her gills, before entering.

What she saw took her breath away.

Aquilus held her sister’s hands, his forehead pressed to hers. The way he held her gaze was so patient and tender and loving, but it was desire that rolled off him in waves. And her sister looked so tempted, but unsure. This was a fragile moment.

Dimming her own bioluminescence, Nireed very, very carefully twitched her fins, disturbing the water as little as possible to make a quiet exit.

Nireed was nearly out the door when Aersila’s eyes snapped to her. She lurched back, yanking her hands away. “Nireed,” she signed shakily, turning away from her should-be mate. Giving him the cold shoulder.

No. Don’t push him away.

Her heart hurt to see the way Aquilus’s face fell a split second before his light dimmed, obscuring it from sight. He’d been so close to breaking through to her sister’s heart. And Nireed had ruined it with her poor timing. If only she’d been less determined to face her sister and address the growing chasm between them.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” Nireed signed to them both, but her final look fell on Aquilus. A mistake. Aersila stiffened, the water around them made bitter with her darkening mood.

To Aquilus, Aersila signed in curt motions, “Please leave.”

He bowed his head, hurt and disappointed. “As you wish.” Looking at neither of them, he swam out without another word.

The moment he was gone, Nireed whirled on Aersila, the movement of her hands punctuated by angry flashes of bioluminescent light. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Aersila huffed, swimming past her. Swiping a knife off a shelf, she ascended to their food preparation table, a large circular slab of stone suspended from the ceiling with thick chains. Nireed followed, watching her sister furiously slice and chop the hunks of potted meat left out to brine.

“Push him away.”

“He’s too young for me.” Aquilus was two years older than Nireed, putting him at eight years younger than Aersila. It wasn’t that big of a difference. And he was one of the most mature males in the pod. He’d effectively raised Ryn after all.

“That’s not why.”

Aersila cut through the malleable meat with more force than necessary, then paused to say, “Forget about it, Nireed. The reason doesn’t matter.”

“Do you not like him?”

“Sister, I think we have something more important to discuss.” Aersila pinned her with a hard glare. “Why do you smell like Reid?”

“I think you know why.”

“Does nothing I’ve said matter to you? You saw what happened to Celia in our own waters, and the risk the pod took to get her back. After everything, how can you be so careless?”

Rows of sharp teeth slotted together as Nireed clenched her jaw. “The answer is to make the waters safer to swim in, not to avoid them.”

“And how’s that going?” Aersila’s hands slapped together.

Slow. Far slower than Nireed would like, there was no denying that, but this kind of change didn’t happen overnight unless they said screw it to diplomacy and slew Nautic’s whole fishing fleet. A temptation to be sure, but without the general Surface Dweller public knowing the truth, without their sympathies, the blowback would be devastating. They’d just see them as murdering sea creatures and react with outrage and fear.

More merfolk would die.

“It’s a delicate process,” Nireed finally answered. “Their leadership needs proof, but now, after Gale’s Promise, they should have more than plenty. We’re making progress.”

“I’ve yet to see it.”

As much as Nireed wanted to keep arguing, she couldn’t begrudge her sister this skepticism. She had her own doubts, a sinking feeling, that despite everything, all the death and destruction, there would never be enough proof. But if she let those doubts take hold and stopped believing in a chance for a better future, she’d stop fighting. None of them could afford that.

“I’m trying, Aersila. I’m really trying, and it’s hard enough facing all these unknowns without my own sister telling me I can’t do it. That I won’t succeed. Do you know how much it hurts to see again and again how little confidence you have in me?”

Aersila drew back, startled. “It’s not you I doubt.” The motions of her hands were much softer now. “It’s the Surface Dwellers. Despite your best intentions, and your very best efforts, they’ll disappoint you. Or worse, take advantage. You’re alone and vulnerable every time you go to shore.”

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