Chapter 188

Zane POV

“Now that the little mermaid knew where the prince lived, she spent many an evening and many a night on the water near the palace. She would swim much nearer the shore than any of the others had ventured, and once she went up the narrow channel under the marble balcony, which threw a broad shadow on the water. Here she sat and watched the young prince, who thought himself alone in the bright moonlight.”

It had been months now that the girls had been requesting The Middle Mermaid for their bedtime read more often than not. But parents learn to love repetition or they go insane.

Chloe and Grace had asked for a few changes to their shared room, and I wondered how much longer it would be before they wanted their own rooms, perhaps the ones on the second floor that shared a bathroom. Some of the frills in the décor were gone, and Grace had a framed poster of Gloria Stradt over her desk.

It occurred to me that soon we’d be gearing up for their sixth birthday. One year ago, Chloe was still gone, Grace was barely speaking, and I was performing my duties to the pack with a joyless efficiency.

Now, here we were, the girls in their beds and Sarah and I at their sides in our chairs. Sarah seemed to sense my mood and looked up briefly to smile.

“She often saw him evenings, sailing in a beautiful boat on which music sounded and flags waved. She peeped out from among the green rushes, and if the wind caught her long silvery-white veil, those who saw it believed it to be a swan, spreading out its wings.

“Many a night, too, when the fishermen set their nets by the light of their torches, she heard them relate many good things about the young prince. And this made her glad that she had saved his life when he was tossed about half dead on the waves. She remembered how his head had rested on her bosom and how heartily she had kissed him, but he knew nothing of all this and could not even dream of her.”

“I don’t like that part,” Chloe said. “I hate how she hides and thinks that stupid princess saved him.”

“If you want to see them get together, go watch the Disney version,” Grace said, which was quite sassy of her, I was pleased to see.

“Sometimes, people just can’t be together,” Sarah said. “Besides, she mostly wants the prince so she can earn a soul, and she does that in the end.”

“Spoilers!” Chloe scolded as though she hadn’t memorized the story long ago, but never one to be out-sassed by her sister.

Sarah laughed, but I realized suddenly that I was angry. Sarah said that so easily, “people just can’t be together.” Was it easy for her to just accept what was, or what wasn’t, going to happen between us? Was I the only one truly in pain here?

Maybe Scott was right. Maybe they would end up together while I mated some Olivia clone. The thought was intensely depressing.

“She grew more and more to like human beings and wished more and more to be able to wander about with those whose world seemed to be so much larger than her own. They could fly over the sea in ships and mount the high hills which were far above the clouds; and the lands they possessed, their woods and their fields, stretched far away beyond the reach of her sight.

“There was so much that she wished to know! but her sisters were unable to answer all her questions. She then went to her old grandmother, who knew all about the upper world, which she rightly called ‘the lands above the sea.’”

The girls were now sleeping, and Sarah nodded to me. I didn’t wait for her as I usually did. I hadn’t removed my shoes yet, and the night was warm enough, so I just walked out of the house in the clothes I had on.

Was I ultimately alone in all this? Was Sarah somehow able to make peace with this? I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything, and only part of that had to do with the way her hands felt on my body and her lips tasted against mine.

I wanted her in my life permanently, helping me to raise the girls and lead the pack. The girls and the pack deserved her, and I wanted to believe I did as well.

I stayed away from the poppy garden and the hedge maze and stuck to the main path over to the lake. I noticed the moon was almost new, the barest of crescents in the dark sky as though one of the brilliant stars had drawn an arc.

Olivia had told me once she couldn’t wait to tell her daughters about the promise of new moons, the way they had become a symbol for fresh beginnings and new starts. But I felt empty and old walking under it this evening, tired and out of options.

Someone was singing.

For a moment, I thought with alarm it was Grace and wondered what she was doing out of bed. But no, this was an older voice, matured and well-trained, but not the soaring beauty my daughter achieved.

Quietly, glad I was wearing soft-soled shoes, I walked closer to the lake and to the song.

A figure in white was standing at the lake’s edge, singing. This time I had no initial thought, just confusion. I’d almost think it was some sort of spirit except that the shape was definitely female.

The figure finished her song, took a breath, lifted up her hands to the crescent moon, and sang something new.

Thou silver deity of secret night,

Direct my footsteps through the woodland shade;

Thou conscious witness of unknown delight,

The Lover's guardian, and the Muse's aid!

By thy pale beams I solitary rove,

To thee my tender grief confide;

Serenely sweet you gild the silent grove,

My friend, my goddess, and my guide.

E'en thee, fair queen, from thy amazing height,

The charms of young Endymion drew;

Veil'd with the mantle of concealing night;

With all thy greatness and thy coldness too.

During the song, I got close enough to see at last just who it was singing to the moon next to my lake. I waited for the last note to fade, then cleared my throat. The figure turned.

“I didn’t know they’d set Mary Wortley Montagu to music,” I said.

Melissa smiled, and I was again struck by her classic beauty, and even in the starlight, her eyes and smile were kind.

“Some time ago, I believe,” she said. “I think it’s a perfect song to greet the waxing moon.”

“It is, and so very well performed. I’m sure the goddess is pleased.”

She smiled, and it was impossible not to notice the curves of her figure as she stood there. As an alpha, I responded to the tall strength of her and felt almost daring as I walked the rest of the way to the edge of the circle she had made of flowers placed around her.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m using your grounds,” she said. “Sarah said you wouldn’t, and I took her at her word.”

“Of course I don’t mind. You’ve graced my home with a beautiful offering.”

She looked at me with a slight tilt of her head, then bent so her neck was showing. It was perhaps the oldest custom in werewolf lore. “I have another offering to make, if it pleases you.”

Goddess, I was tempted. I had enjoyed being mated to Olivia, even if sometimes things were colder than they should have been between us. Melissa was everything right and natural for an alpha to want.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You honor me, and you would be a prize in any household, but I cannot mate someone else.”

“Someone besides Sarah, you mean?”

I didn’t answer.

“I know you know all the challenges you will face if you try to make a life with her.”

I nodded.

“But it seems to me, Sarah Astor is worth a challenge or two.”

I felt gratitude flood my body. In a moment, my rigid shoulders had relaxed, and I almost laughed.

“She is.”

She stepped to the edge of her floral circle and held out her hand. I took it gently and kissed the back of it.

“We are friends, Sarah and I. I want to stay her friend, and yours.”

“I would like that very much.”

And she smiled.