Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

at his side."
    "And she returned to her natural form until her father the king took pity and surrendered her forever to the land," Seree finished. "Your great grandmother was Princess Beltana." He stared at Aimé and jolted at the expression on his face. "You know what I am. What Lana is— you've always known, haven't you?"
    Aimé shrugged. "I wasn't certain with Lana. The shipwreck story was a bit odd, but the running away from home seemed honest. She seemed very comfortable as a human. But you…" He reached out and traced the warrior marks carved into Seree's cheeks. "My grandmother told me many stories of the warrior mages of the Deep. The marks, the colored blades, the ferocity in their eyes."
    Seree pulled away, embarrassed and more affected by that light touch than he liked to admit. Ferocity of his eyes? What did that mean? Humans were so strange. "You're very clever, Highness. I never once had an inkling you knew me true."
    "I was banished here because I believe in stories of merfolk— stories of the Deep, my grandmother used to call them. She begged my parents to promise that when she died her ashes would be given to the sea. They buried her in the royal tomb, but I stole her favorite necklace and threw it in the sea here. I hope that was enough. Do you think… anyway, that is why they banished me. I believe the stories and tell them to everyone. I'm the laughing stock of the court, and some of the nobles went too far in their pranking, and I… reacted poorly. People were hurt. I was sent here until my parents could figure out what to do with me."
    He looked up at Seree, the desperate, plaintive look on his face nearly painful to look upon. "I'm not crazy, right? You are of the Deep? They aren't just stories told to a gullible grandson?"
    Seree traced the lines of Aimé's face, unable to resist, soothing him almost as he might sooth one of his sisters. "Yes, prince," he said softly. "I'm a warrior of the Deep, marked and granted magic and meant to protect and serve the ten seas."
    "Let there be no blood in the water, lest it be rightfully spilled," Aimé breathed. "That's what grandmother used to say."
    Hearing his warrior vows spoken in Aimé's quiet voice was Seree's undoing. He cupped Aimé's face, tilted it up just so, and kissed him. His lips were soft, the softest thing Seree had ever touched. He twisted his fingers into Aimé's hair, held him close, and deepened the kiss to explore the warm mouth beyond those addictive lips.
    Aimé shifted slightly, upsetting their balance, and the kiss broke as Seree fell to the sand. Aimé stared down at him, wide-eyed, lips wet. He licked them, and Seree was not certain how he was supposed to resist that, so he didn't. Instead, he dragged Aimé down and succumbed once more to the warmth and eagerness of his kisses.
    It was far too easy to drown himself in Aimé, smooth his hands over the warm, pliant body that draped over him, score the fine skin with his sharp teeth. He ignored the stern voices in his head in favor of listening to every sweet moan and gasp Aimé gave him. The silly thing never wore much in the way of clothes, but then again Seree had never understood why humans preferred to wear so many layers.
    He got their breeches open with minimal difficultly and drew their cocks out, stroking them together, moaning himself when Aimé drew back enough to help, and it did not take long at all before they spilled, messy and wet and it was the finest thing Seree had felt in longer than he cared to dwell upon. He lapped lazily at Aimé's lips, relishing the flavor and heat of him.
    Too soon, the chill of the air and water, the rub of sand returned to his awareness. Seree stripped off his shirt to clear away the worst of the mess, then got them both to their feet. Aimé fit against him far too well, and Seree floundered, not certain what to do with him.
    Aimé kissed him. "So what brings you to land? My grandmother said warriors seldom rise to the surface, and then only to save their own or kill…" He drifted off and looked up at Seree—then stiffened at whatever he saw in Seree's face. "You came to kill me? I assumed you just came to fetch your sister; I could not puzzle out why you would linger so long when she was gone."
    He drew back, jerking his arm away when Seree reached for him—but he didn't run, as Seree expected, just looked at him as though Seree had betrayed him.
    Seree supposed that, in some way, he had. "My sister fancied herself in love with