Free The Mermaid's Mate by Kristin Miller Page A

fail.

Chapter Nine
    She’d been traipsing along the perilous edge of Were Mountain for over an hour, judging by the way the sun had skid across the sky. She should’ve been to her territory by now. But every time she thought she would turn a corner and spot the majestic waterfalls surrounding Mermaid Bay, she spotted more ridges of bleak, gray rock.
    To make matters worse, Marian could sense someone behind her—a wolf, from the smell of him. He was closing in with each passing step. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop to figure out if it was Timber. She couldn’t afford a slipup when she was this close to her territory. What if she was wrong and someone else had caught scent of her trail?
    She’d lead the wolf into the heart of their territory and reveal all their secrets.
    As the moss-covered trail ended, fading from dirt to rock, Marian breathed deep. Using her hands to steady herself, Marian stepped over the stone, her bare feet cold against its unforgiving surface. Climbing to a higher point, she peeked over a large boulder and froze, tears stinging her eyes.
    Home.
    Mermaid Bay was huge, a few hundred yards long with matching width, surrounded by chunky rock that rose up out of the sea. It was impossibly deep, giving credence to Mer legend that eons ago, a meteor had crashed into Feralon, carving a massive hole out of this side of the isle. The seawater was turquoise, rippling with golden specks of sunshine, making Marian long to slice through it and feel the silky warm waves on her skin. As if the sight of her homeland couldn’t be more breathtaking, magnificent waterfalls covered three-quarters of the rock ring that circled the bay, leaving one rock wall on the far western edge that blocked the view of a grainy, pebbled beach.
    It was paradise.
    She’d only been gone a few days, but it’d felt like so much longer. She’d missed this place so much.
    A branch cracked somewhere over the ridge behind her. Maneuvering across the rock, so that nothing but her toes teetered over the edge, Marian craned her neck around and searched behind her. An ashy-gray wolf slinked over the stone, crouching his massive body so that he was nearly flat. The wolf had caught up to her and he definitely wasn’t Timber. Something inside Marian—a sixth sense she’d never felt before—warned that the wolf was Ryder.
    As their gazes collided, Marian knew he was about to attack. Another second, a reactionary leap, and he’d be on her. Sucking in a sharp breath, Marian sprang off the ledge.
    The wind cut through her hair and rushed across her skin, meshing with the sea spray that kicked off the waterfall. She spread her arms wide, chin lifted high, her back arching to form a perfect swan dive. Marian’s heart thumped wildly as she anticipated the glorious feel of the water enveloping her body.
    She was close. So close. Another twenty feet...ten.
    Mist from the waterfall coated her skin, soaking her through and through as the bay closed in. Seconds before she hit the water, she thrust her arms over her head, kept her chin down, and rippled her feet in a swift kicking motion. From the hip down, her skin flattened to scales as blue as the sky. Her pants ripped down the middle as her legs meshed together and her tail fin unfurled.
    She hit the water like a rocket and seamlessly soared below the waves as the shirt covering the upper half of her body tore away. The water was as tepid as she expected; she sighed as it blanketed her body in welcoming warmth.
    Marian continued to dive, and when she approached twenty meters, her tail fin kicking hard, propelling her onward, she came to the Curtain. Layers of water waved and shook like an iridescent flag, preventing anyone from seeing the enchanted world that lay beyond it. Acting like a mirror, the Curtain reflected the upper part of the sea in all its brilliance—including its wavering colors of violet, azure and emerald.
    Beyond the Curtain lay sanctuary for the Mer people.
    If she waved her