Marked by the Sea (Monsters’ Mates #1)

Chapter 1

Amora

My mother fluffed her hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Puckering her lips, hollowing out her cheeks to highlight cheekbones, she lifted her chin to check her neck for wrinkles. The woman who birthed me was the most caring person I knew, but with each blessing came a curse. Hers? Vanity. She needed to be perfect, beautiful, without flaw at every moment of the day.

This wasn’t the time to be going on vacation, but, being that my father was a renowned scientist, he rarely had time away from his work. This was one of those times, and we were going as a family. It didn’t matter what I wanted or what I needed. I’d been lucky enough to be underage when the Handlers came. All women of marital age were to go. I didn’t know which kingdom needed a queen then, and I didn’t care. We paid our taxes, made our offerings on time, and my father had connections. I’d dodged that bullet, but the same couldn’t be said for my best friend. They took her, and I’d been powerless to do anything to stop it.

It was the way things were. My mother’s words had played on repeat for the last 48 hours. I could barely stand to look at her as she sat in the passenger’s seat. Usually, they kept the hood down on these trips, but the weather forecast predicted the possibility of rain. Heaven forbid she ruined her makeup.

As the clouds rumbled above our heads, followed by a clash of lightning, I expected more than a light shower. My leg bounced anxiously until my father noticed and told me to stop fidgeting because I was moving the car. I gripped my knees so tightly my hands shook. Of course, I was nervous. They were taking me to an island. You know, those things surrounded by water?

Rain and what suspiciously sounded like hail slapped against the glass. My chest tightened, and sweat beaded along my temple as all the worst possible scenarios played through my head. I was two seconds from having an anxiety attack—the very last thing I wanted to happen since they didn’t believe in them and told me I was too old to throw fits.

They were the adults, yet I was the one who was more alert, more cautious about what was going on around her. Why wasn’t anyone else freaking out about flying amid a storm?

“I wish you wouldn’t be so selfish, darling.”

“I’m not. I love you guys for wanting to take me with you, but I didn’t want to go. I still don’t. What surrounds an island, Veronica? Water. I didn’t want to go. Please, please, for the love of gods, let me stay.”

I was begging, but that only proved how desperate I was. I knew I sounded like an ungrateful brat because what newly turned eighteen-year-old wouldn’t want to go on vacation the summer before her last year of high school? Me. I wouldn’t, and for good reason. I was scared out of my mind. Not, oh-I’m-worried-scared, no, I was in a full-blown panic. I didn’t have time or the mental capacity to care about how spoiled I was.

I had Thalassophobia. I was literally afraid of the sea. Not water. Just the sea. Everyone who knew me knew this. My parents knew this. Yet they insisted on taking me to the Bahamas! I got that we were rich, but that didn’t mean we should be celebrating while women were being carted off like cattle.

“We swear on the kings, not the gods, honey. None of this pagan talk, please. You read way too many of those books, and I blame myself for encouraging you as a child,” Veronica sighed.

“That’s not the problem here,” I lamented.

“What’s more important than the kings?” Veronica asked.

Father remained silent, swaying his head side to side as he danced to a song in his head. I let out a frustrated sigh, crossed my arms, and resigned myself from our battle of words. I couldn’t talk to her. As if to confirm my fears, the rain pelted the window loudly as he sped to the little airport where our private plane waited.

It hadn’t even been 24 hours since I got out of school. I had planned to rot in bed today and guilt-trip myself about my best friend. I had a box of books coming in that I wouldn’t be able to touch until we came back.

“Don’t you guys want to have some… alone time?”

I cringed, and a shiver ran down my spine. Gross. I couldn’t understand why they were forcing me to go with them. Don’t most parents complain about not getting any time for themselves? What happened to the treat-yourself era? They could go on a couple’s vacation. Most parents would do anything to get away from their kids. Mine were probably the only exception. They refused to go anywhere without me, and now that I had just graduated, they were acting more clingy than usual.

This would be my last summer until I entered the “real world” of adulting. Flying to Italy to try “real” pizza and then to France to eat those cute little pastries you find in quaint little cafes over my spring break had been fun. But it was tiring, and I hadn’t had a day where I could sleep in since last summer.

“We have more than enough time later for that. We won’t have you around for long, so give us this one thing,” Veronica said.

I wanted to scream. She was making this out to be a family trip while completely disregarding my fear. As much as I wanted to lash out and call her on what I knew this was about, I was too old to be throwing fits. Keeping the lid tight on my anger, I held my breath as the car rolled to a stop. My heart raced a mile a minute, my palms were sweaty, and yes, my leg was bouncing again because it was time to get on the plane.