Aya didn’t see how insulting a new mother, then fighting against the city and elders who had raised him, betrayed the founding principles of an honorable warrior.

“I left Dragao Azul,” Soren emphasized. “The worst betrayal is a warrior disobeying his elders, shunning his king, and abandoning his own city. It is even worse than cowardice.”

“Yes, I get that part.” Aya rubbed her hands on her thighs again. She regarded him seriously. Not with the sadness he feared. Not with the horror and disgust he most worried about. “To summarize, you completed an assignment that caused you a grave moral injury, so you left Dragao Azul and founded Atlantis.”

Ah, that is how she misunderstood. “I was not injured. The bride—”

“Yes, you were.”

“No. The bride was already bound when I escorted her, and she was too exhausted to attack us when we removed the harness on the beach.”

Vivid details assaulted him. The scent of blood on the salty water. The paleness of her face as she cursed him. And later, back in the king’s castle, the way Elan had cried greasy tears and crumpled to the floor. Elan would forget, the Dragao Azul elders promised, as they handed Soren his promotion to First Lieutenant. His bride would too.

But he knew the truth. His promotion, his future bride, everything was purchased with her blood. I will never forget. Neither would Soren.

“I received no physical injury during that assignment,” he said.

“Not a physical injury, a moral injury,” Aya leaned forward and pressed her palm against his chest. “That bride made you realize your actions were not in alignment with your beliefs. You’re still suffering from it.”

He liked her palm there.

She was trying to tell him she wasn’t horrified. She wasn’t afraid to touch him. She wasn’t secretly thinking he would hurt and betray and disrespect her too.

But the bride was only a small portion of his dishonor.

On the swim back to Dragao Azul, Uvim and Dosan had chatted quietly about meaningless things, but Soren had spent the whole swim going insane.

Up was down and wrong was right. All the things he’d wanted were evil and all the honors he’d pursued were a farce. He’d devoted his whole life to obeying the wrong elders, enforcing the wrong rules, defending the wrong city! He should have welcomed invaders and helped them rip the Life Tree out by the roots.

The only one who would understand him was Kadir. His longtime friend, a male obsessed with the ancient golden era of queens and Atlantis. He’d been imprisoned for those beliefs, and to break him out was suicide.

After Soren had reported the completion of the assignment and the elders told, “Good job, here is your honorable promotion,” he was furious enough to charge at death bare-chested.

And he had been that way ever since.

That was the true betrayal. Dishonoring the bride was bad. Questioning his elders was worse.

“I have no rules,” he said. “No elders. I refuse the title of First Lieutenant. No code of honor binds me.”

“Of course one does.” Aya tapped her fingers, one at a time, on his chest as she enumerated his rules. “You protect Atlantis. You protect King Kadir. You protect your fellow warriors. You protect me.”

His throat constricted. She was not right. He was dishonorable. He fought the emotion welling beneath his chest. “I refuse honor. There is none in me. I disrespect everyone!”

“Okay, let me ask you this.” She scooted closer until their knees touched. Proving, again, that he didn’t frighten her. “If you hadn’t taken that woman to the shore, what would have happened?”

“Punishment,” he said. “I would have been disciplined.”

“No, I mean, to her. Would she have been allowed to stay with her husband and child?”

“Someone else would have taken her.”

“Someone else like those two young, hardened warriors, Dosan and Uvim?”

He had to stop a minute and think back. The hard pounding of his heart didn’t help. Why couldn’t he remember who else was on duty that night?

The First Lieutenant was the new father, and his second had been injured in a previous battle. Some warriors were off fighting, others would have had to be recalled from home.

In the barracks were untrained youths and the old trainer, who rarely swam more than a few clicks. He had just returned with news of the battle. Dosan and Uvim were the only ones. And it had been dicey because five were required for an open ocean swim, and they’d left with only three warriors and an injured bride.

“It would have been those other escort warriors,” she guessed. “The ones who were upset by the woman’s harsh words. You tried to protect them by telling them she would be fine.”

“No.” That was not why he had said those words. He had been a bad person. Insolent, arrogant, certain of his duty. “Wrong.”

She arched her brows. “How?”

“I have been unworthy my whole life.” The emotion shuddered in his soul, and only by speaking these truths could he force it down again. Lock it up in his hard chest. “From my birth. I tried hard to be honorable, and everyone could see it was a lie. They were right. They were always right.”

She rested her other hand on his knee. “They?”

“The elders. Peers. My father. My mother refused to look at me or hold me. She knew what the others soon saw too.”

Aya crawled on top of his lap, resting her knees on either side of his waist, and her other hand on his chest. Both hands on his heart. “Isn’t it likely that she was more like me?”

He frowned, gripping her waist to shift her so she rested more securely on his outstretched legs. “In what way?”

“Don’t you think that, knowing she had to give you up, she pushed you away to protect her own heart?”

Could this be?

A painful pop sounded behind his heart. Like a bone, long dislocated, pushed into alignment. Everything shifted and his chest swelled. A dangerous emotion flared. It would not be contained.

Aya slid her hands up to his jaw, cupping his face. His rough skin caught her soft fingertips, but she didn’t shy away or complain. He captured her hand to keep her from hurting herself on him. Her blue eyes seemed to stare through his defenses right into his soul.

What if his mother had wanted him so much she couldn’t stand her grief losing him? Could it be that he had never been bad? At all?

Sharp pain spiked in his nostrils. The prickles raced to his eyes. What was this sensation? It was like biting into a hot pepper. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

“It is…my fault,” he managed.

“No.” Aya stroked his jaw with her free hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“I…hurt…everyone…”

“You are a protector at your core, Soren. You tried to protect the warriors under you. And when it was too late, you realized you should have protected the other bride, too.”

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this. This was too much. It was the reason he never thought of these things. Thinking about it broke him.

“I will hurt you.”

Her soft lips pressed against his.

He lay there, afraid to touch her, afraid not to. His control trembled. If she pushed him right now, he would have her. Lay her down, hold her in his arms, bring her to orgasm writhing under his tongue and groaning his name. He had already become too familiar with the softness of her skin, the taste of her feminine sweetness, the sounds of their lovemaking.

She eased back, perhaps surprised at his passivity, or concerned.

He was just grateful for this. Every moment of this. She would soon realize that she was wrong and everyone else was right. And his past would disgust her, too.

Then, she blurted, “I forgive you.”