What if he just dived in and swam? All the way to the dark horizon.
Rory tingled all over with goosebumps. The question of ‘Where to?’ didn’t even factor into it. The destination didn’t matter as much as the fact he’d simply be leaving Ullapool behind.
‘You do not look distressed,’ observed a self-important voice from the waves, ‘yet you seem to call me here with an urgency that would suggest otherwise.’
Rory located Fionn amid the surf. The merman stood about ten yards away, waist-deep in the water. He was a cerulean giant gleaming in the sun’s early rays. Half his hair had fallen forward over one shoulder, plastered against his collarbone. Rory imagined sweeping the silver strands aside to stroke the tattoos they covered.
He licked his lips and said, ‘Hi.’
Fionn squinted at him. ‘Are you ill?’
‘No.’
‘Only you seem unusually courteous, today.’
Rory bristled. ‘You didn’t need to come here, you daft prick.’
‘Aha.’ Fionn visibly relaxed. ‘And why have you called me away from my duties to meet you here?’
Away from his duties.Rory longed to roll his eyes but refrained. ‘Were you doing something important?’
He expected a pompous retort along the lines ofEverything a prince does is important. But to his surprise Fionn took a beat to consider before replying.
‘In the grand scheme of things, I suppose not. Some formal nonsense that I’m glad to be excused from for a while. Even if I am uncertain whether I’m fully welcome in the presence of said excuse.’
Rory stared back at Fionn and ran that last sentence over in his head several times. Why did the man have to speak in condescending riddles?
‘You last told me to fuck off,’ Fionn said helpfully. ‘Shouted it, in fact, into my face.’
‘Yeah…’ Rory’s toes curled into the sand at the memory. So much to unpack here. He knew he ought to get some words out before this wholethingbecame too overwhelming: this weird tryst in the ocean that might or might not end up with him sucking some mer-cock today.
As soon as he thought it he froze, words stalling in his throat.
Fionn crossed his arms impatiently. ‘Did you bring me here just to taunt me? Was my previous humiliation not enough for you? Perhaps you wish to use and discard me again?’
Once Fionn started, it seemed he couldn’t stop. His tone was hard and haughty, but the words came fast and unfettered like they’d been bottled up and were finally spilling forth.
‘I am not a thing to be used, Rory Douglas. I may know my place and I will respect our bond but I am a whole person with a whole heart of my own. I am not a doll to be pulled out for special occasions and then flung aside when not required. I put myallintoeverythingand I deserve something back. Something like respect. Something as basic as the smallest recognition that I have wants and desires too, that I make sacrifices too, that I…’
Fionn caught himself, flushing a deeper shade of blue across his cheeks and throat.
Rory’s mouth was dry; his tongue felt like heavy sandpaper. The idea that he might’vehurtthe blue monst— the blue merman hadn’t even occurred to him. He hadn’t considered it was even possible to hurt the aquatic bastard, truth be told. What with his spear and his battle tattoos, how could an inconsequence like Rory have scratched him at all?
He shuffled his feet in the water, hands dug deep in his pockets.
‘Dunno what to say to that,’ Rory said gruffly. He kicked away a drifting knot of seaweed, and in doing so noticed how still the water had become. Like it was reflecting the tension between Fionn’s body and his.
The silence extended, awkward and heavy. Rory realised the ball was still in his court. He cleared his throat, failed to come out with anything, and then cleared it again.
‘You sound ill,’ Fionn remarked. Not hostile, but not warm either.
‘I’m shit at this,’ Rory replied grudgingly. ‘Talking about… stuff.’
‘Stuff?’
‘Feelings and… stuff.’
Fionn blinked rapidly, probably confused, which Rory considered a reasonable reaction. He ploughed on, anyway.
