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Shay Mac Eoin had aided in the Frosted Sands massacre. He had kidnapped me.
I caught my tongue before I spoke the words, eying Tor. I wondered when I had forgiven the selkie and the kelpie of their actions. Had I extended the same forgiveness to the nymph?
“I wish for Shay Mac Eoin to find happiness as well.” Tor nodded staunchly. “Once we meet his betrothed, I can let my mind rest. Until then, I am allowed my misgivings. Just like you.”
“This isn’t about the prophecy?” I knitted my fingers together in front of my stomach. “Of the lake creeds becoming one?”
He shook his head. “We had a theory about that.”
“A theory?” I echoed.
“After you took selkie form at the coral fields, Rainn and I discussed it.” Tor sighed, sitting back on the stool, his eyes heavylidded. “We think that the prophecy isn’t about us. It’s about you.”
I barked a laugh, rolling my eyes and turning to the water. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I busied myself with undressing. Pulling my dress over my head and removing my undergarments, I ignored the feel of Tor’s eyes on my back.
I stepped into the bath, feeling the sting of the hot water and sliding down until the bubbles hid any hint of my body.
I rubbed my face. “I thought maybe my father was a selkie.”
Tor considered my words. “Perhaps.” However, based on his expression, he thought that was unlikely. “A selkie form would have shown itself when you were a child, and you don’t have your own coat.”
“It was dark.” I lowered myself, resting my chin against the water. “I felt it. Cold, alone. I felt the Shíorghrá bonds. I grabbed them. I don’t know how I became a selkie. It is known that undine share magics once they cement their Shíorghrá bond. Knowing their partner's emotions. Or especially loud thoughts. I thought it was just something like that.”
Tor rubbed his chin. “Perhaps.”
I reached for one of the bottles on the side of the tub and poured a generous amount of soap onto my hands. It wasn’t soap-silt, a gritty sand that dissolved most grime, but it did the job.
As I rubbed my hands over my body, trying to distract myself from the buzzing hornet's nest of troubles in my head, Tor sat back. His gaze heated as he watched me bathe.
I lifted my feet from the water and rubbed my aching soles. I wasn’t used to wearing shoes; silk slippers did little to protect my feet from the sticks and stones I felt through the soles.
Tor sat up, the movement languid, as he sauntered to the bath and lowered himself to his knees at my side. Level with my head, he leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on my lips that quickly turned hard and demanding. My chest heaved, and I lost my breath as his tongue stroked against mine. We broke apart, and his dark eyes, like a starry night, stared back at me full of mischief. The long tendrils of his black hair were wet where they had fallen in the water, but Tor didn’t seem to care as he pulled back, and his damp hair dripped on his tunic.
He kept his eyes on mine as he rose up on his haunches and stroked the bubbly water. His fingers dipped under the water, brushing against my stomach. The bubbles hid his hand as he smirked and reached between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Just checking you’re clean.”
I closed my eyes as his hand slipped between my legs.
“Eyes on me, Love,” Tor growled.
I bit back a moan as his fingers caressed the skin of my inner thigh, growing closer to my core. I squirmed under his touch, my eyes flying open and meeting his. He smiled, flashing the tiniest hint of a sharp canine tooth, as his finger brushed against my opening before ignoring it entirely and continuing his slow caress.
“Tor…” I breathed.
“Would you like me to touch you?”
“Yes…”
“Say please, Love. Beg for my hand.”
“Tor…please…”
“Good girl.” He crooned. “Good girl. The sweetest. I’ve been thinking about your pussy all day. Touching you. Fucking you with my fingers. Would you like that?”
I nodded, my head bobbing in the water.
