It’s a fair argument, and in my heart, I know it’s unfair to blame him for what happened between us. So I don’t. I have enough self-respect to acknowledge my own stupidity. “You’re right. This was a mistake. One we both made.”
He opens his mouth, perhaps intending to argue. I want to hear what he has to say, to force him into admitting I’m more to him than a diversion or a witness he’s protecting.
But Rakan suddenly goes very still. He tilts his head, as if he’s just heard something I can’t. To my surprise, he flicks his fingers and a phone appears in his hand. It’s still ringing, but he doesn’t pick up. Instead, he steals a single look at the screen and steps out of bed.
“We’ll return to this conversation once I’m back, Iris. For the moment, get some rest.”
“Back?” I call after him. “Where are you going?”
Rakan is already clean and dressed before I’ve even managed to finish the sentence. “To solve our problem, like I should have from the beginning.”
Our problem. The way he says that should bring me comfort, and in a way, it does. But then, the smoke invades the bedroom again, and within the blink of an eye, he’s gone.
I’m left alone, lying in a djinn’s bed, more confused and shaken than ever before. And I hate myself for it, but instead of leaving, I bury my face in his pillow and take in his scent.
Because as much as I hate Rakan, I’m in love with him, too.
11
Little Fool
Rakan
For as long as I’ve known Sigurd, I’ve always found krakens an interesting paradox. They favor silence and retreat into the darkness. But when they do own property, it’s just as excessive as my own.
Sigurd’s yacht is no different. It’s massive enough to contain him in his shifted form, and travels almost as fast as he would in water.
Considering we’re supposedly in contested merman territory, I’d normally find it hilarious. Or at least concerning. But today, I can only bring myself to think about one person.
I curl my hands around the aft rail, and the varnish gives a little under my palms. The city’s shrunk to a smear of lamplight behind us. Iris is back there, alone and confused, still in danger because of another person who is dear to me.
She’s still furious with me, and I deserve it. But that doesn’t change anything. Our night together has simply made the situation more clear.
Mistake,she called it, and a part of me agrees.
She should be able to make her own choices. She should wake up without checking the corners of her room, without panicking or thinking about murderers. There are a lot of things she’s entitled to, and tonight is supposed to help with that. At a hefty cost.
“How long do you think she’ll stay angry?”
Sigurd comes up behind me without a sound. He stands barefoot at my shoulder now, sleeves rolled, salt drying along his jaw. He hasn’t dived yet tonight, but for a kraken, that doesn’t always matter.
Even though his question is gentler than the worry I’ve been turning over up here, I don’t look at him. “Knowing Iris? I can’t see it going away anytime soon.”
“But that doesn’t really matter, does it?”
I let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t take her to ruin her life. I took her because hiding her was all I had time to do. So even if she wishes for freedom, I can’t give it to her.”
“And Kasim?” Sigurd asks, the only one who’d ever dare to be so blunt with me. “He won’t stop.”
“I know.” It’s the easiest thing I’ve said all night, and the worst. “He’ll hunt her to the ends of the earth.”
For the longest time, Sigurd says nothing. A different truth hangs between us, as deep and dark as the ocean. “Not because she saw him,” he finally says. “Because she said your name.”
I flinch, but I can’t bring myself to deny it. It’s the truth, and it’s what I can never forgive myself for.
Iris witnessing the harpy’s murder was never the issue. Kasim doesn’t care about who sees him kill. If anything, he wants people to know he’s hunting them. But the moment my name came into the picture, the situation took a different turn.
“Even after all these years… Above all else, he’s still my brother.”
