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"Come here, baby girl," Egon responds, his voice a soothing blend of command and tenderness. He effortlessly draws me in, enveloping me within the secure circle of his arms. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he positions me against him. "You’ll get there faster if I take the lead.”
chapter ten
“Good morning, brother. There are whispers throughout the kingdom that the King has finally discovered his fated mate. Is that true?” Azura, my spirited youngest sister, breezes into my private quarters, her presence as lively as ever.
Her two children dart ahead, then circle back around her, weaving through the water with playful abandon. They swim in energetic bursts, giggling and splashing, while Azura follows with a mix of affection and mild irritation. She clicks her tongue in gentle reprimand as they zip past, her eyes rolling with the good-natured exasperation of a mother all too accustomed to her offspring’s antics.
Only a select few know about Nerissa. My brother is lost in the bliss of his honeymoon, while Serena, my second sister, is preoccupied with the impending birth of her second child. For the moment, I prefer to keep our budding relationship a secret, hoping to win Nerissa’s heart before she contemplates a return to her mortal life.
She has every right to leave. A divine gift does not impose an obligation. My thoughts often wander to her possible fears—of never again embracing her loved ones, or of relinquishing the only identity she has always known.
Yet, whatever her decision may be, my resolve remains firm. I will not yield. If it becomes necessary to cross into the mortal realm to stay by her side, I am prepared to make that journey. For wherever life may lead, my place is invariably at her side.
“We’ve only shared a few days together and she has yet to accept me as her mate.” I share more than I want, but Azura will discover the truth with or without my cooperation.
“She hasn’t accepted you?” My sister’s loyalty and protective spirit emerges. “You’re a king. Handsome. Dependable. Warm and slightly humorous when you try. What is there to consider?”
“We’ve only been together a brief while, and she has yet to accept me as her mate,” I confess, revealing a vulnerability that I hadn't intended to expose.
But Azura would inevitably uncover the truth, with or without my cooperation.
“Nerissa is a mortal woman. She may be Marine’s daughter, but she was nurtured in the human realm, shaped by its customs and ways,” I explain, trying to convey the breadth of Nerissa’s predicament and the enormity of her adjustment. “Her life—her entire understanding of the world—has been as a human, and that's not easily set aside.” Despite my efforts to lay bare the complexities of Nerissa's situation, my words seem to fall on deaf ears.
“Finding your fated mate is the greatest of all blessings. Perhaps I should speak with her,” Azura suggests, her resolve quickening her pace toward the door. She nearly reaches it before I manage to catch the tip of her tail, halting her impulsive charge.
“Let me handle this, Azura. I might lack experience in this mate business, but my feelings for her are clear,” I insist. “If it takes her time to feel the same, then I’m prepared to wait. It’s better she wrestles with these feelings now rather than later. After all, I’ve already waited six hundred years—what’s a little longer?” With a deep breath, I glide past her, moving swiftly toward the north wing, driven by an eager longing. It's been twelve hours since my last encounter with Nerissa, and every minute apart feels like an excruciating eternity.
As I approach the short hallway leading to Nerissa’s room, a high-pitched voice filters through the air, distinctly different from Nerissa's. With each movement, curiosity and caution propel me forward. I glide silently, my senses heightened, as I inch toward the door, which is ajar by only the slimmest margin.
“If you’re feeling uncertain, perhaps it’s best you return to your own world. The longer you linger here, the greater chance you’ll be cut off from your family forever.” The high-pitched voice sharpens into Nixie's, each word filled with feigned concern as she tries to persuade Nerissa to leave.
“Thank you for the advice, Nixie. I’ll take it under consideration,” Nerissa responds, her tone drips with what I fervently hope is sarcasm.
“I’m only trying to help you,” Nixie continues, her voice sweet yet undercut by a sly undercurrent that does not escape my notice. Her meddling solidifies my resolve and fans the flames of my indignation. If her intentions are as manipulative as they seem, she has indeed earned my wrath for ages to come.
“You’re not helping anyone, Nixie,” I assert as I barge into the room, cutting off their conversation. My tone is resolute, brooking no argument as I confront her manipulations head-on. I refuse to allow her to sow seeds of doubt in Nerissa's mind—doubts that could only serve to drive a wedge between us.
"Papa! I’m only providing her with the information she needs to make an informed choice. I swear, my intentions are pure,” Nixie pleads, her voice a soft mutter as she scrambles toward me with arms outstretched.
Ignoring her attempted embrace, I focus on Nerissa, drawing her into my arms with the urgency of a man who has been deprived too long. The intensity of my need to protect and reassure her is palpable as I envelop her in a firm yet tender embrace.
"Papa?" Nerissa's eyes lock onto mine, her expression enigmatic, leaving her thoughts inscrutable.
I'm uncertain whether she's puzzled by Nixie's use of the term or contemplating its significance herself. The profound desire to love and protect her—my precious mate—fills me with visions of teaching, spoiling, and, when necessary, correcting her to guide her on the right path. Such thoughts stir a protective, almost paternal instinct in me, yet I quickly shake my head, dismissing these distractions to focus on the immediate issue.
"I’ve asked you not to call me that, Nixie. That term is reserved for my mate," I say emphatically, making my feelings clear. Turning to Nerissa, I see her nod in agreement—a gesture that might be intended to irk Nixie, but one I hope signifies more. Perhaps one day, she'll choose to call me Papa as a term of endearment. The thought alone fills me with hope—there's nothing I'd desire more.
"Let's go, baby girl. I've planned a long day for us," I say, my voice a low groan as my breath catches at the sight of my beautiful mate. Her presence sends my pulse racing, overwhelming me with emotion.
At this, Nixie's face flushes a deep red, and she exits in a huff. Her departure is marked by a dramatic flair, knocking over objects in her path as she storms through the open door.
"Baby girl?" Nerissa echoes, raising an eyebrow in playful inquiry. She threads her arm through mine, her touch light yet potent, sending waves of desire coursing through me.
“You are my baby girl. But if you dislike it, I’ll never utter those words again,” I lie, knowing full well I would be unable to keep that promise.
“Papa? Is that what you’d like me to call you?” Nerissa asks, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her mouth, subtly undermining her mock indignation.
“You may call me whatever you like.”
