Chapter 175

The island became home with surprising speed. The house Mirena had given us was spacious, built from wood and stone, with wide windows that caught the breeze and a veranda that looked out over the lagoon. The children claimed rooms with the territorial ferocity of small conquerors, arguing over who got which sleeping mat, which corner, and which view of the water.

But despite the comfort of the house, the children were restless. They had spent nearly a week traveling, nearly a week being told to stay close, to be careful, to not stray. Now, surrounded by sand and sea and endless horizon, they wanted freedom. They wanted to run, to explore, to discover every hidden cove and climbing tree the island had to offer.

"Mama, can we go to the beach?" Atlas asked for the tenth time that morning.

"Can we climb the rocks?" Chase added.

"Can we find crabs?"

"Can we swim?"

"Can we, can we, can we?"

I sat on the bench Leon had carved for me, a beautiful piece of driftwood polished smooth and oiled until it gleamed. It sat on the veranda, positioned perfectly to overlook the yard where the children played and the path that led down to the lagoon. From here, I could see everything. The children chasing each other in circles. The sea lions swimming in the distance. The palm trees swaying in the breeze.

And Eryx.

He worked with Leon in the yard, both of them stripped to the waist in the heat, sweat gleaming on their skin as they carved furniture from the wood they had gathered. Leon was teaching him, showing him how to read the grain, how to follow the natural lines of the tree, how to turn raw material into something useful, something beautiful.

They made a striking pair. Leon, loud and laughing at his own mistakes, talking constantly, his voice carrying across the yard. And Eryx, silent and focused, his hands moving with surprising skill, his expression intent on the work.

He was drawing attention.

I had noticed them over the past few days, the sea lion females. They passed by our house with increasing frequency, their steps slowing, their eyes finding Eryx and lingering. They were subtle about it, or tried to be, pausing to adjust a sandal, to retie a wrap, to examine a flower that just happened to be near where Eryx worked.

I had confirmed it with Rhonda yesterday, when she visited with bread and gossip.

"He’s not my mate," I had told her, watching Eryx from the window as he hauled a log across the yard, his muscles straining, his expression focused. "He’s my mate Veylan’s older brother. He came to be with his brother. That’s all."

Rhonda had looked at me, her eyes knowing, her smile sly. "The females are interested. Very interested. He’s unmated, unbonded, and apparently uninterested in changing that. Which only makes them more determined."

"Determined?"

"They love a challenge. A tall, brooding male who won’t look their way? Irresistible. They’ll wear him down eventually. Or die trying."

Now, watching three sea lion females walk past for the third time in an hour, their eyes sliding toward Eryx like he was the only thing worth seeing on the entire island, I understood what she meant.

Leon noticed too. He looked up from his carving, followed the direction of the females’ gazes, and grinned. He said something to Eryx, too low for me to hear, and Eryx’s shoulders stiffened. He shook his head, quick and sharp, and returned to his work.

But Leon wouldn’t let it go. He looked at the females, looked at Eryx, and smiled that particular smile that meant he was about to be impossible.

"Look at that, Eryx," Leon said, his voice carrying clearly across the yard. "The girls want you. Why don’t you pick a mate already?"

Eryx stiffened slightly, his hands pausing on the wood. He didn’t look up, didn’t look at the females who had frozen at the edge of the yard, pretending they weren’t listening. But he gave a quick smile, tight and polite, and said, "I’m not interested."

"Not interested?" Leon laughed. "They’re beautiful. Strong. Sea lions are good warriors. Good mothers. What more could you want?"

Eryx was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working. "I’m not interested," he repeated, his voice lower, rougher.

I watched from my bench, my hands still on the wood beneath me. I wondered, not for the first time, why Eryx was so dead set on not having a mate. He was young, strong, and handsome in his own way. He could have his pick of females, not just sea lions but wolves, lions, any number of women who would welcome him. Yet he remained alone, distant, always watching from the edges of our family, never quite part of it, never quite separate.

What was he waiting for? What did he want that he couldn’t find?

I didn’t have time to ponder it further. Movement at the edge of the yard caught my attention. A young boy, around eight or nine, seemingly the same age as my older cubs, approached Levy where she sat playing with her doll. He was a sea lion, his hair dark and curly, his skin brown. He wore only a simple wrap around his waist, typical of the children here.

He stopped a few feet from Levy, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made me smile. He was blushing. Actually blushing, his cheeks darkening as he stared at my daughter.

Oh no, I thought, my smile widening. My daughter is going to break hearts already.

"Hello," the boy said, his voice cracking slightly. "I’m Jisep. You’re very pretty, female. Can I know your name?"

Levy looked up from her doll, her head tilting. She was nine months, with her father’s black hair and dark eyes. She looked at the boy with the frank curiosity of a child who had not yet learned to be shy.

"I’m Levara," she said. "But everyone calls me Levy."

"Levy," Jisep repeated, as if tasting the name. "That’s pretty. Like you."

"Thank you," Levy said, pleased. "Do you want to play? I’m having a tea party. You can be the guest."

"Yes," Jisep said, his face lighting up. "I would like that very much. I can bring shells for the tea cups. I found really good ones by the big rock."

"Yea, of cou—"

"NO!" Leon’s voice cut through the air like a blade, loud and sharp and sudden. "Levy, get inside. Time for a bath."

The boy jumped, actually jumped, his eyes going wide with fear. He stumbled back, his hands raised as if warding off a blow.

I shook my head, exasperation flooding through me.

"But Daddy," Levy pouted, her lower lip trembling. "I just made a new friend. We’re going to have a tea party."

"Inside," Leon repeated, his voice softer but no less firm. "Now."

Aureon appeared from around the corner of the house, drawn by the commotion. He looked at the scene, at Levy’s pout, at the terrified boy, at Leon’s protective stance, and understood immediately. He walked to Levy, scooping her up with one arm.

"Let’s get inside, sweetie," he said, his voice gentle. "You can play later."

He turned to the boy, his expression serious, almost stern. "She’s busy. Go play somewhere else."

The boy nodded, stammered something that might have been an apology, and ran.

I put my face in my hands.

These men were not serious. This was a little boy. What was he going to do? Levy was not even a year yet. She could use friends. She could use playmates who weren’t her brothers or sisters. She was young, innocent, and these males were acting like every child on the island was a threat to her virtue.

I dropped my hands and stood, marching toward where Leon and Aureon stood with Levy between them, looking pleased with themselves.

"Are you both completely out of your minds?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm.

Leon blinked. "What?"

"That was a child. A small child. He wanted to play tea party. He was going to bring shells."

"He was looking at her," Leon said, as if this explained everything.

"He’s the same age as Atlas, Chase, Ryder, and Jasper."

"They all grow up," Leon said. "Best to establish boundaries early."

"Establish boundaries," I repeated, my voice rising. "He’s a child. She’s a child. They wanted to play."

"She can play with her brothers," Aureon offered.

"She has enough brothers," I snapped. "She needs friends. She needs to learn how to interact with people who aren’t related to her. She needs to have a childhood that doesn’t involve being locked in a tower by her overprotective, ridiculous fathers."

Leon and Aureon looked at each other, then at me, then at Levy, who was watching the exchange with wide, interested eyes.

"He was blushing," Leon said, his voice slightly smaller.

"So what?"

"Blushing means interest."

"Blushing means he’s a child who doesn’t know how to talk to girls yet," I said. "It means he’s learning. It means he’s innocent. Just like she is."

I took Levy from Aureon’s arms, settling her on my hip. "You," I said to Leon, "are going to apologize to that boy. And you," I turned to Aureon, "are going to stop encouraging him."

"Apologize?" Leon looked horrified. "To a child?"

"Yes. You scared him half to death. He probably thinks we’re monsters."

"He should think we’re monsters," Leon muttered. "Then he’ll stay away."

I stared at him.

"Fine," Leon said, holding up his hands. "I’ll apologize. But I’m watching him. And if he looks at her again..."

"You’ll do nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing. Or you’ll be sleeping outside with the crabs."

Leon closed his mouth.

I turned and walked back to my bench, Levy still on my hip, her arms around my neck. Behind me, I heard Aureon say, "She’s serious about the crabs, isn’t she?"

"Very serious," Leon confirmed, his voice glum.

I sat back down on my bench, settling Levy beside me. She immediately picked up her doll, resuming her tea party with the determination of a child who had not been deterred by adult foolishness.

"Don’t worry, Princess Mud," she told her doll. "The silly men are gone now. We can have our party."

I smiled, leaning my head back against the wood, watching the ocean stretch before me.

New home. New friends. New overprotective fathers to train.

Life, as always, was never boring.