Page 23 of Of Songs and Silence

She brings her arms up, reaching behind her to fist her hands in my hair. A growl escapes me and I abandon her half-laced corset, moving to untie her skirt instead. It falls to the floor, leaving her in only her lacy undergarments.

And her corset, of course.

She spins in my arms, propping herself back on the bolted down dresser and pulling me with her. I sink to my knees before her, kissing my way from her ankle to her thigh on first one leg, then the other. Greedily, I soak in the sight of her, then the taste, as I trail my lips along her skin.

She said she missed me, but I’ve missed her, too. I’ve missed being close to her in this way, in every way, missed the way that she reacts to my touch in perfect synchrony like we are tethered together by our very beings.

I have missed everything about her, and I take the time to slowly, methodically show her just that.

I may not be ready to move past the grief, or as willing to let go of my need for vengeance as Einar seems to be, but I won’t waste any more time hiding from my wife.

Not when our time feels perilously short as it is.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

MELODI

The night was restless, filled with vivid dreams of the warrior who slept at my side.

More than once, I thought I dreamt his solid arms around me only to wake up shivering with a solid foot of space between us, Napo’s enormous purple and teal tentacles curling on the pillow by my face.

Ari doesn’t look any more rested than I feel. He slowly blinks as he separates the netting and climbs from the bed, making his way to the lavatory with bloodshot eyes. The sound of the door latching shut echoes in a warbled way.

Napo throws the coverlet to the bottom of the bed, rising to stretch out his long tentacles. His black eyes meet mine, and he seems to smile at me. Ambling forward, he pulls back the netting, clambering out to the open space, and reaches for one of the small fish swimming around the room.

He grabs ahold of it, and then unfurls his limb to offer it to me. Presumably, to eat.

No.

My stomach growls, but not for that very much alive, very much struggling fish. Just like he did with the seaweed, Napo stretches a tentacle forward insistently, placing the squirming fish in my hands.

It looks at me with pleading eyes as it fights to get back to freedom. Am I supposed to eat it like this? To put it out of its misery first? Napo looks pleased, giving me some version of a nod in response. Bubbles froth from the fish’s mouth as its eyes lock onto mine in silent horror.

My eyes track the slow movement of the smaller group of fish that have been entering through the open window. A few of them swim headfirst into the wall before rerouting. They don’t seem nearly as intelligent as the fish held between my hands.

Why couldn’t I have ended up with one of those?

The question doesn’t matter. I have no intention of tasting anything as it watches me doing so.

I think of the innuendo my middle sister would make out of that, picturing Ari’s face and the ridges of his muscles as a reluctant smile tugs at my lips. The bathing chamber door is wrenched open so suddenly that a flurry of bubbles accompany Ari as he exits, a thunderous expression on his perfect features.

“Kala, you—” He freezes when he catches sight of me, his rebuke abruptly cutting off.

I follow his gaze to find that my netted top is askew, putting on display the few parts of me that were adequately covered yesterday. His jaw clenches, and he pointedly averts his gaze to the ceiling.

Releasing the fish, I quickly cover myself. I can’t bring myself to be sorry to see the fish go. I would rather be hungry than eat a living, slimy thing. Napo gives me a disapproving glare at the loss of breakfast, but stretches out a few tentacles to help me adjust my top anyway.

“We’ll order food,” Ari says, shooing the fish out the open window on his way back to the bathing chamber while Napo eyes him disdainfully. “In the meantime, practice your shields.”

He sends that last part like a warning. An order he has every expectation of being followed. I consider his explanation last night, the way the one thing he chose to explain to me was the class systems. If you’re born into a class and you don’t leave it, it stands to reason you don’t marry outside of it.

Is that why my attraction to him is dangerous?

Does that mean I am from a different class? Or is it because I am half human? I think again aboutKala, the bowing, hardly wanting to piece together the obvious.

I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.

True to his word, Ari orders breakfast, and I’m pleased to see it’s more than just seaweed. Though there is, of course, seaweed.

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