weeks fighting back tears when she misplaced a paperclip.
And now he was back.
She peeked out the window.
Ciran stared at the closed door. His jaw flexed. He was not angry this time. Not bitter.
No.
The emotion reflected in those fierce eyes was determination.
Uh-oh.
He tipped his head as if to say that this round had gone to her, but he was far from beaten. He turned on a heel and strode decisively down the beach path to his warriors.
She rested her head on the wood and let out a huge sigh, then rotated the small silver wedding band on her ring finger.
Just because she had a feeling didn’t mean she had to act on it.
Dannika had fielded interest from plenty of good, kind men. Had she acted? No. Because she’d already met her soul mate. Met and married him.
Everyone deserved that bliss.
Ciran would just have to move on to a better woman. One who made his face light up with happiness.
Dannika had to keep him at arm’s length until he got it.
He’d get over his infatuation.
Any minute now.
Chapter Two
Dannika could not deny her soul’s desire forever.
Ciran stormed down the white stone path, through scrubby brush, and descended to the pink sand beach. Energy pulsed in his veins. Excitement flushed his pores.
He had given up on her once.
You’re a sweet warrior, Ciran, but I just can’t return your feelings. I’m sorry. You’ll soon understand. She’d rejected him kindly, and he’d believed that she could sense more in their souls than he could.
But her glowing reaction to him just now had confirmed the truth.
She was his bride.
He would never give up on her again.
His second-in-command, Lotar, waited in the clear, sandy shallows. His iridescent gray tattoos glistened with droplets of seawater, and his dark hair slicked back against his skull. He wore red Bermuda shorts, tight against his trim body.
The other warriors clustered behind him, nude and waist-deep in the gently rolling waves.
“Where is Dannika?” Gailen asked.
“Dressing.” Ciran nodded at the pile of sand-strewn shorts and shirts. “Wear the human coverings.”
They slogged to the beach and obeyed. Gailen struggled with the unusual fastenings, and the other warriors helped him.
“Does this mean we will make the dating profile videos for Dannika?” Gailen asked. “Or will she go with you to Atlantis now?”
“You will make the video.”
“Will she share it with mainland brides?” Tial, a smaller warrior with large eyes and evergreen tattoos, asked. “Will there be time?”
“She will share it.”
“When is she leaving as your bride?” Nilun demanded.
Ciran hesitated.
Lotar met his gaze. He was a silent, introspective warrior with excellent instincts, but given the choice, he preferred to swim alone. He’d led this unit of warriors to Bermuda without complaint, but anticipated releasing his responsibilities.
“She has not accepted my claim,” Ciran said finally.
Lotar tipped his head in silent relief.
The other warriors stared at Ciran.
“Why not?” Tial asked. “When she saw you, she glowed brighter than the sun.”
“Her soul was blinding,” Gailen agreed.
“Is she frightened?” Nilun asked, his sharp tone and gestures turning even the simplest question into an urgent query. “Does she think you will fail to protect her? Does she not know you are a second lieutenant, and you would die before she came to harm?”
Ah.
Nilun’s high opinion of him soothed Ciran’s taut brow like a balm. He rolled his shoulders, trying to release muscles that carried too much tension. “Dannika does not have unworthy thoughts. She will fulfill her promises to the mer before she allows any personal consideration to intrude.”
“Can she not do that as your bride?” Gailen asked.
“She can.”
“Then…”
The distant cawing of sea birds sounded lonely on the rustling wind.
Tial’s already large eyes grew wider. He asked softly, “Are you okay?”
Of course Ciran was not okay.
He’d surfaced to claim his soul mate, and she denied him. All the warriors had surfaced for the same reason. His failure shook the very foundation of Atlantis.
Long ago, mer and humans had lived in harmony, but a mysterious Great Catastrophe had plunged the two races into war. The mer had retreated to the undersea world and faded into human legend.
But then their females had died out, and their race had faced extinction.
The ruling All-Council had forged an ancient covenant with human brides on sacred islands who promised to keep the mer’s secret. Each bride would descend, give birth to a young fry—always male—and then return to her island community. In that way, the undersea world once more thrived.
But in recent generations, the sacred islands had emptied and modernized. Few brides remained; fewer young fry were born.