“This should be great,” Mari muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ambrose ignored her, staring at his brother. He had never expected to see Erikos again, and never expected this moment to happen. But it was—and he had no clue what to do.
Could he believe anything his brother told him? Could he actually trust a word out of Erikos’s mouth? Before the trial, he had never doubted his brother. But when Ambrose had needed him most, Erikos hadn’t been there.
He saw the struggle in his brother’s eyes, the frustration, but Ambrose stayed silent. Hell, even if he knew what to say, he wouldn’t say it anyway. After all the shit he had been put through because of Erikos, he was going to enjoy the struggle his brother was going to go through in trying to create a bullshit story.
“That night, the night before…You left on one of your escapades before I could tell you, but that night the gods…” He stopped, scrubbing a hand over his face. Ambrose noticed how haggard he was, how tired and past his age he looked. “The gods—at least, I think it was them. I’m not sure how else I could have known—“
Erikos cut himself off.
Breathed.
“Ambrose, you’re my brother. My blood. I would never have wished any of the things that Ceto did—“
“How did you know it was Ceto that did it?” Ambrose growled, surging forward. The very fact that his brother knew it had been Ceto was proof enough for him that Erikos had wanted his torment to happen.
Mari grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Let him talk,” she said quietly. Her voice held the knowledge of a woman who knew conflict, who simply knew.
Ambrose inhaled, forcing himself to stay still as her eyes bore into his—and flashed white.
Behind her, Deimos growled. He should have taken it as a signal that something wasn’t right.
Ambrose looked at him, then back at Mari.
He froze.
Her tail. No longer was there a golden tail casting a shimmering glow over her body. The tail was still there, but faint, covered with the image of the double-finned black tail. It wasn’t completely there, but the image was strong enough that he could see it, like her body couldn’t make up its mind on what it wanted Mari to be.
Ambrose heard his brother’s shocked inhale, but Mari wasn’t paying attention to any of them. Her eyes were focused solely on Erikos—except she wasn’t even looking at him. She was looking through him.
He took her hand, trying to draw her attention away from Erikos, who was staring at her like she was an Octopian about to eat his heart out. “Mari?” he whispered, trying to jostle her.
Deimos gripped his shoulder in a death grip, stopping him. “Don’t. Touch.”
Even though he tried to get her out of the stupor, her body was unmoving. Stony. Completely unmovable.
“Talk,” she commanded. The voice that spoke was…deeper. Not Mari. A shiver ran down his back as he stared at her. The natural glow of the room flickered for a second, as if it realized that something was wrong with her. As if her underlying power was affecting the ocean itself.
Erikos swallowed, breathing shallow.
Deimos growled again, shoving Ambrose away from Mari. “No touching.”
“I said,” Mari repeated, eyes flashing from white to red in a matter of milliseconds. “Talk.”
Erikos went rigid at her tone, but hastily did as she said.“Dream—I, ah, I had a dream. The night before. Ceto was picking up the book. No one was in the room. She was the one who sunk Atlantis—not Ambrose. But then it switched—the dream did. It showed the trial, and one of the minors gods taking the spear.”
Ambrose tensed. “If they had taken the spear, they would have taken over Atlantis.”
“I know,” Erikos said, fists clenching at his sides. “Atlantis was so important to you. I think, somewhere inside of your mind, you felt like it was all you had of mom and dad left.”
Ambrose didn’t respond, looking away as an ache formed in his chest.
“Go on,” Mari hissed, her stony body vibrating.
“I couldn’t let one of them take it—he was dirty, terrible. In the dream, there was a black cloud around him, like he bathed in evil. I couldn’t let Atlantis fall into the wrong hands—so I did what I had to.
“I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. When the place began sinking, I tried seeking you out. I had no clue when Ceto was going to do it—I didn’t have time. I was going to warn you, to try and—“ His voice broke, like it was too painful to talk.
Ambrose’s heart felt like lead in his chest. Could he actually believe this? He desperately wanted to. It was something, he realized, that Erikos would do. While Ambrose had cared for his brother, Erikos had always been the one to warn him of trouble, to try to fix whatever it was before it became a problem for Ambrose.
“When it began, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t find you, couldn’t find her. She wasn’t at the temple—it was empty. Ambrose, you have to believe me. I did everything I could to try and save you, warn you.”
Erikos stopped speaking, looking at Ambrose beseechingly.
His throat worked as indecision warred in him. The desperate look in his brother’s eyes was believable, and he could honestly feel the waves of truth pouring out of his brother’s soul.
“When you took the spear, what did you do with it?” he asked roughly, barely able to talk. His throat was so closed up that he couldn’t even breathe through his mouth.
“I hid it. I only had a matter of time before I was kicked out—I’m not a god or a true royal, not like you. I have no place in the council. I would have stayed if I could, defended you, but the gods would have taken offense… They gave me a mission and I had to do it—to protect you.”
“Where?” he grated, ignoring everything else, pain coursing through every vein in his body. If what his brother was saying was actually true…
Erikos had risked his life for Ambrose. He had done the best he could. The spear was what gave a being control over Atlantis. His father had had it, Ambrose had had it—-
“Where no one would ever find it. I took it from you as quickly as I could—I saw the minor god that wanted to take it. He was there, waiting. About to take it from you. You know what could have happened in just a few seconds—“
“I do. But….why didn’t you take it?” Ambrose asked, eyes flipping up and meeting Erikos’s.
He frowned. “Why would I?”
“Jealousy? Greed? Power? Man will do anything to obtain control,” Ambrose said, agonized.
Erikos’s frowned deepened. “I have never been jealous of you—I saw the strain ruling Atlantis put on you. I would have helped you rather than take from you. Ambrose,” he said, eyes flashing with pain. “You actually think that after all of the years you cared for me and raised me, I would do that to you?”
Ambrose closed his eyes on a wave of agony so intense that it made it hard for him to breathe. “I don’t know what to think. If you thought Atlantis was so important to me, why didn’t you take over? Why let H’Sai take control? I can feel the city crumbling at the roots.”
“You know what has to happen for the crown to switch hands,” Erikos said fiercely, slashing a hand through the water. “I wasn’t going to put you in the position that you would have to kill me to take back the throne.”
“You wouldn’t kill me?”
“No. I would sooner die than make you feel more guilt over losing blood.”
Sweet fucking Atlantis. Emotion slammed inside of Ambrose’s chest like an explosion had burst inside of his heart, releasing all of the pent-up torment he had been feeling for centuries. Ambrose hadn’t thought his brother would have the hindsight to protect Atlantis like he had, had doubted his brother to the point of trying to kill him—only to find out that his brother had been trying to protect him and Atlantis.
Ambrose was overwhelmed, but one question remained in his mind.
“Where is the spear?”
Erikos looked at Mari—who was slowly coming back to her normal self. The shimmer of the godly tail was gone, and her original tail was back. When Erikos looked to Deimos, he sneered like the bastard he was.
“I don’t know if they should...”
“If you trusted them enough to tell me what really happened, then you trust them enough to tell me where the spear is. Mari and I are hand-in-hand, Erikos. What I know, she knows.” He wouldn’t have it any other way, either. Mari was most trustworthy person he had ever met. Hell, he trusted her more than he trusted himself.
“I’m sleepy.”
Mari.
He looked at her quickly, she was wobbling on her tail. The clarity had returned to her eyes, but with it, came exhaustion. As she looked at him like she had no clue where she was; he realized something.
With one simple look, with just two little words, Mari had the ability to take away the most intense pain he had ever felt before. He could physically feel the tension draining out of his shoulders as he watched her rub at her eyes, a low yawn opening her mouth.
For a moment, he could pretend that he hadn’t tried to kill his brother. He could pretend that he hadn’t appreciated what Erikos had tried to do for him. For a moment, he could pretend like his world hadn’t just been rocked.
“Are you okay?” he asked, shooting Erikos a dark “be quiet” look as he brought his arm around Mari, pulling her against him. He shouldn’t be so forward, but something inside of him called for him to touch her. She was like a drug, and he couldn’t get enough. Even taking her into his arms was enough to last him a lifetime of happiness.
“I don’t know.” A small crease appeared between her brows. She looked up at him, confused. “Did you try to kill him? I only remember grabbing you before you could hit him...but after that I feel like I fell asleep or something.”
“I didn’t try to kill him,” Ambrose said. Not after what I learned, anyways...
She narrowed her eyes up at him. “I heard something about a spear. No one is being impaled, right?”
He shook his head. “No one is being impaled.”
“She doesn’t remember a thing?” Erikos asked, looking between them, confused.
Ambrose shrugged, looking down at Mari who was rubbing her eyes again. “Remember what?” she asked.
He sighed. Of course. One of the most important moments of his life, besides meeting her, and she didn’t even remember. He could just imagine her not remembering having their first child after she wakes up from...
Ambrose stopped cold.
No. No babies. None of that. Mari would never lower herself into reproducing with a man like him. He had attacked his brother without knowing the full truth, had thought he was going to kill Erikos. Already he was taking too much liberty with holding her in his arms right now, but it was need, desperate need, that made him touch her.
He didn’t need to have a child with her.
But thinking of her swelling with his young, thinking of that ethereal glow that would grace her perfect face, and the way she would rely on him for all of her needs...He forced the ache out of his heart. Now was not the time to think of Mari like that—there would never be a time.
“I, ah...”
She smiled at Erikos reassuringly. “You’re okay. I wasn’t really biting your head off back there—I just wanted to scare you. Do you think it worked?” she asked, looking up at Ambrose.
He looked to Erikos for help, who nodded.
“Yes, Mari. I think it worked,” he replied indulgently.
“Okay. So you guys don’t hate each other anymore?”
Ambrose glanced at Erikos. There were still going to be a lot of problems. Still a lot of pain. Still a lot of misunderstandings. But he knew the truth, and that was enough for now.
“No, Mari. We don’t.”
Erikos exhaled sharply, and Ambrose tried not to look at his brother. He could only imagine what his brother had put himself through after all of the years Ambrose had been away. Then he heard the hitched breath and the swishing of water. Despite what he told himself he wasn’t going to do, Ambrose looked.
And instantly dropped his arms from around Mari and went to his brother.
“I am sorry,” he said softly, never meaning anything more than those three words, putting a hand on Erikos’s shoulder. “You’re my brother, my very blood. Nothing will ever break that bond.”
Erikos turned his face away, but not before Ambrose saw the redness in his brother’s eyes. Ambrose hated showing weakness. He hated touching people. He hated being touched—by anyone except Mari.
But as he saw the pain his brother felt, emotion wracked through him so hard that he couldn’t stop himself from jerking his little brother against his chest and hugging the only blooded family he had left.