Neptune: Solar Mates, #6

By Hanleigh Bradley, Mia Harlan and Silver Springs Library

I've spent my life running from the three men I'm destined for. But now fate has finally caught up to me. 

Being the great Neptune's daughter isn't all it's cracked up to be. My dad signed away my future on the day I was born, forcing me into an arranged marriage that I'd do anything to avoid. 

I don't want a political alliance, I want love. So the moment I turned eighteen, I skipped town. Now, to save a friend, I'm forced to come crawling back... right into their waiting arms.

Triton, Oceanus, and Laiken have been waiting to marry me since the day I left Silver Springs. They're willing to do whatever it takes to convince me that we're meant to be, even if their mom is my arch-nemesis. Because sometimes, even the most ill-fated of matches are written in the stars.

Neptune is a standalone in the Solar Mates Series set in the Silver Springs shared universe and comes complete with a happily-ever-after. Scroll up to read this fun, quirky romance today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hanleigh Bradley
• Release date: Oct 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201528034

Hanleigh Bradley

British Author Hanleigh Bradley writes Contemporary Romance about British twenty somethings in London.

Book preview

Chapter one

Neptune

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I’ve gotten so used to tuning out Venus’s inane questions—there really is a limit to how many times I can answer ‘Why am I here?’, ‘Who are you?’, and my personal favorite, ‘Why are you stalking me?’—so I completely miss whatever she shouts at me as I practically shove her out of the car on Main Street. It’s raining heavily, but she has her umbrella.

Stop the car! Axie the Axolotl’s high-pitched shout comes from the back seat of my car.

Venus forgot her phone. Marine’s voice shakes slightly with age.

Venus can survive without her phone for an hour. I roll my eyes. I don’t think I can cope with only having half of my best friend for much longer.

I glance through my rearview mirror at the fish tank on the back seat and the three cursed creatures inside it. Axie and Marine are swimming while Star is stuck to the glass.

NEPTUNE! Wait! Venus’s voice reaches me through the open window, but I don’t stop.

I should probably be grateful she remembered my name at all. But after three years, I just can’t take it anymore.

I’m doing this for Venus, I remind my cursed friends. Although really, I think I’m trying to reassure myself that I’m not a crappy friend.

You always do everything for Venus. When are you going to do something for yourself? Marine, the little seahorse in the tank, asks.

If seahorses could look disappointed, Marine definitely would right now. At the ripe old age of sixty-five, Marine is always the voice of reason.

What if she gets lost? Axie pipes in. Mommy Starfish thinks you should stop the car.

I don’t really have a good answer for the little kid. I’ll just have to find her later, I guess.

I’m surprised that you even managed to get her into the car in the first place, Marine says softly. Let alone drive her all the way to Silver Springs.

Me too, I mutter, pulling to a stop at a red light.

She’s going to forget everything, Axie says, nodding his little axolotl head.

Not this time, I tell him, trying to hold on to that little bit of hope.

There’s a lot Venus can’t remember.

Like me! Or the fact we grew up together in this supe-friendly small town. She’s completely forgotten that we’ve been best friends ever since we were toddlers.

But I haven’t forgotten. I remember everything. Especially the promise I made to her just before her eighteenth birthday when the curse took away her memory. That I’d find a way to counter its effects.

Except, so far, I’ve failed.

We won’t be long, I reassure them as the light changes.

No one says anything. They obviously don’t believe me. Not that I really blame them.

I put my foot down on the gas and suck in a deep breath, preparing myself for what I’m about to do. I really don’t want to do this. But I don’t think I have much choice. I’ve tried everything else. We’ve tried everything else. Every spell out there, every magical concoction, and every potion available. Nothing’s worked.

I pull up to the Deep Ocean gated community. The security guard waves me through with a quick, Welcome home, Neptune.

Smiling tightly at him, I can’t really return the sentiment. I’m happy to be in Silver Springs again, but I would rather not be at Deep Ocean.

Water begins to fill my car as soon as I pass through the gate. With a sigh, I make a mental note to visit a mechanic when all of this is over because I’m definitely about to flood my engine. Again.

The car fills up quickly, and soon the water is up to my shoulders. Usually when your car floods, you freak the hell out. Not so much when you’re a water goddess.

Stay in the tank, Axie, Marine says sternly. I glance in my rearview mirror and see the little axolotl begin to swim away.

But—

You heard me. Get back here.

Neptune? Axie asks as he swims up to me, completely ignoring Marine.

I glance down to where the seven-year-old is swishing his tail near my elbow. Hmm?

Are you scared?

Scared? No. Of course not.

It’s a lie. But I refuse to admit to a seven-year-old cursed child that the person he believes to be his hero is actually a big chicken. He thinks the world of me, because I rescued him, his mom—the starfish currently gargling away in the tank—and Marine, who has followed Axie out of the tank, intent on protecting the child.

I’m no hero though. I might have rescued them from Cursula three years ago when I left Silver Springs, but so far, I’ve failed to turn them all back into sirens. Some goddess I am.

Neptune— Axie begins. Argh. I hate that name.

I told you to call me Blue, Axie. Neptune is my dad.

Yes, the big scary sea god. And because he’s such a narcissistic pig, he decided to name me after himself. Why my mom agreed, I’ll never know. Then again, I’m not sure Mom has ever disagreed with Dad. He’s a little bit overwhelming, and his moods can kick up a storm. Literally.

Not that mine are much better. Evidenced by the rain that is currently pummeling my windscreen, just above the waterline of the lake I’m currently driving into. Lightning fills the sky intermittently, and thunder rumbles in the distance. All my own doing.

You really should be in the tank, I tell Axie in a voice that I hope sounds authoritative.

He just gives me his trademark cheeky grin, and I melt. He’s too adorable for his own good.

I push harder on the gas and the water goes over my head. I feel a sharp pain on either side of my neck as my gills practically slice it open. I guess now there’s really no turning back.

The community under the lake is nothing like above water. Pondweed lines the streets on both sides, and vibrantly colored coral reefs decorate street corners. Muskgrass graces the front lawns, kept at the community’s mandated length by magic. Schools of clownfish, colorful bettas, and angelfish swim by. There are starfish hanging out on rocks, and several sea horses off in the distance—not cursed ones, like Star and Marina—but ones kept healthy and happy thanks to Dad’s magic.

Once upon a time, I used to think it was beautiful. Back when I was a little girl, playing hide and seek with Venus and playing among the reefs. We used to swim to school down these streets. There’s a little cavern half a mile east where we’d sneak off to whisper secrets until it was finally time to go home.

I loved this place once—Venus and I both did—until we found out the truth. And it’s that reminder that casts my childhood home in an ugly light.

Chapter two

Neptune

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The giant, stone monstrosity my dad calls a house sits right in the middle of all the other stone monstrosities—the biggest, most luxurious, and yet, also the ugliest of them all.

Pearls and precious stones cover the stone walls, reflecting the light from the world above. It should be beautiful, but it somehow completely misses the mark and just looks ridiculously ostentatious.

My car manages to make it all the way to Dad’s driveway. I wonder if he’s improved the magic that protects above-water objects around the community. It’s unlikely, seeing as how my dad isn’t really a fan of ‘above water’ stuff.

It’s so beautiful, Axie says, clearly not seeing the same thing I do. Then again, he probably doesn’t remember this place. He was only four when I rescued him, and he had been confined to a tank in Cursula’s home.

I catch the axolotl between my palms and give his head a little stroke with my thumb before instructing him to get back into the tank. He does as he’s told, and I climb out of the car, opening the door to the back.

You guys stay here, I tell them seriously. I lower their tank into the large tote bag I carry almost everywhere with me and place it on the back seat. We can’t risk someone seeing you.

I feel bad leaving them in the car alone, but they’re not safe in the gated community.

Neptune! Mom swims out of the house, her purple siren tail rippling behind her.

As a kid, I used to get jealous of her tail. What use is being the sea god’s heir with an unlimited magical inheritance, compared to a tail? Being a goddess sucks. It’s all rules and responsibility. Sirens have all the fun, swimming around with their tails.

I make my way towards her, and Mom pulls me into her arms. It’s been such a long time since you last came home.

I don’t say anything. What can I say? She knows why I haven’t been back.

How is Venus? I don’t know how she can ask me that. She sounds genuinely concerned, but she’s never once tried to convince my dad to help Venus.

The same, I answer sharply and try to rein in my anger. The last thing I want is to cause a flood in Silver Springs. Where is Dad?

He’s not spending as much time in the community these days, she says with a strange look on her face. Her brows tighten, her lips pinch, and she turns away momentarily. You’ll find him in Silver Springs.

It’s hard to imagine Dad voluntarily spending time up there. He hates being above land. He’s literally a fish out of water when he’s up there. I don’t get it. As a god, it’s not like he needs to return to the water frequently to survive, like the sirens do. But by the way he talks about the world above our lake community, you’d think the air up there was toxic to him.

He’s helping Anne Le Viat with her campaign, Mom continues.

What campaign? Just the mention of Cursula sends lightning bolts across the sky above the lake. I’ve never understood how my parents could remain friends with her after what she did.

Anne is running for mayor, Mom continues. She guides me into the house, swimming along at my side, seemingly oblivious to the brewing storm.

Mayor? My eyes practically bug out of their sockets.

Your father is endorsing her. Mom watches me closely, waiting for me to blow up. I’m quite well known in my family for my temper. I’m just like my dad in that respect.

Of course he is. I’m hardly surprised. I’m not even really disappointed with him. Not anymore. I’ve long since given up expecting him to take my side against the crazy siren who cursed Venus, Marine, Axie, and Star.

With my dad, there’s only one thing that really matters: Power. And how he can gain more of it. That’s a big part of why he has never punished Cursula. She’s the most powerful of the Neptunian sirens, and Dad likes to stay on her good side.

Plus, he can use Venus’s curse to his advantage, and he knows it.

I think she might actually win, Mom says.

I can’t hide the snort that escapes me at the idea of Cursula as mayor. I can’t think of anyone worse for the job, and that includes Mayor Shchnarl, the incompetent fool currently in office.

Goddess, I hope not.

Neptune! Mom doesn’t like it when I use the goddess’s name in vain, even if the nearest goddess is… Me.

Where can I find him? I ask. I don’t really have time for a lecture on my bad language.

Er… You’re not going to cause trouble, are you?

Is she serious? Axie, Marine, and Star are stuck in a fish tank! And my best friend was cursed by that creepy, old siren as a baby. I’ve spent three years trying to help them all on my own—with absolutely no luck, mind you—and I’m the one causing trouble?

I just want to talk to him, I say as calmly as possible.

Why don’t you stay for dinner? She sounds far too eager. Then again, I’d probably be eager for companionship if I had to live with Dad. We can invite Anne and her sons.

Ahhh. Here we go again.

Mom really is just Dad’s mouthpiece. I sometimes wonder if she even has her own brain. How can she really want her only daughter to be forced into marriage?

I’m not having dinner with Cursula!

Neptune, you should stop calling her that. Mom shakes her head. I think it would be good for you to reacquaint yourself with her sons.

I’m not going to think about that. Marrying them is the worst-case scenario. There’s got to be another way. And I’m going to find it. Even if it means offering something else—anything else—to Cursula, so that she will remove the curse.

I’d do anything to save Venus—she’s my best friend, after all. Although, I really, really don’t want to have to marry Cursula’s sons.

Reminder to self, when I take over from Dad and become Goddess Neptune, Queen of the Ocean, I’m going to stab Cursula with my trident. Even if she does end up being my—nope. That is not going to happen.

I won’t be here long enough to stay for dinner. Sorry. I don’t mean to sound quite so dismissive of the suggestion, and I almost feel guilty when her face drops. Almost. So where can I find Dad?

Not sure. Somewhere up there. Mom points toward the surface.

Chapter three

Neptune

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Argh. This is a disaster, I grumble.

You told Venus you’d only be an hour, Axie tells me, shaking his little head. You lied.

That was a mistake. I should have known that Mom wouldn’t let me go that easily.

She’d insisted on having some coreal tea—a siren drink that is absolutely revolting. Although weirdly enough, Venus always seemed to like it.

Did she want to talk about the wedding? Marine asks, her little eyes full of concern.

She asked about college and brought up my betrothal like five times. Apparently, Dad and Cursula are in wedding planning mode. It doesn’t seem to matter that the bride said she’d rather die and skipped town.

Maybe it was naivety, but I honestly thought that not coming home for a few years would have proven my determination not to marry the Le Viat brothers. But apparently not. The three years I’ve been gone have meant absolutely nothing to Dad—I guess time is insignificant when you’re immortal.

My car actually survives the ride back up to the water’s surface and doesn’t completely conk out the second I’m driving along regular streets again.

Did you find out where your dad is? Axie asks.

Nope. Mom didn’t know, I complain. Get this, though. Cursula is running for mayor!

That bitch! I’ve never heard Marine swear before.

What’s a bitch? Axie asks.

A word you’re not supposed to know, I tell him, trying my hardest to hide my smile.

Deciding to start at the siren-only bar a couple of roads away from Deep Ocean, I pull up in the parking lot outside. Dad isn’t a day drinker, so he’s unlikely to be here, but someone has to know where he is. And where else am I going to find so many sirens in one place?

I put the tank back into my bag, preparing to take the cursed creatures with me. They don’t really like being left out, not that I blame them. I just wish that they were a little more willing to be shrunk. Lugging their tank around is almost impossible.

Goddess, you guys are heavy! I complain and pull the tote bag over my shoulder.

It’s not us, Axie says knowingly. It’s all the water. I’m not heavy at all.

I shake my head, laughing at him.

I’ve never been to a bar before, the seven-year-old says excitedly.

He’s been significantly more willing to come out with me in the tote bag since my visit to Highway to Spells. He might not like having the tank shrunken, but he definitely likes it when I use another of those little impressive vials of potion to make the tote bag see-through. Only from the inside, though; it isn’t safe for people to see what I’m carrying around in my bag.

And for good reason, Marine replies.

The bar hasn’t changed one bit. The inside resembles a pirate ship wreckage, and as soon as I walk through the front door, my gills slice open. I grimace.

The bar is magical, of course. The owner, a male siren a few years older than me and Venus, had dated a witch shortly after high school and had her spell the bar. It retains water and keeps it filtered, so the bar stays smelling fresh, even when its customers are out-of-their minds drunk. After all, the last thing you want to deal with is someone else’s vomit floating past your face.

It’s a literal watering hole for the sirens who don’t want to return to the gated community every single night. It’s perfect for the younger sirens who want to stay above land, away from their parents, too. My dad doesn’t approve.

I wander through the front room where a couple of sirens are playing pufferfish darts, which is exactly what it sounds like. They grab pufferfish who are swimming around, begging for a turn, and chuck them at a dartboard made of seaweed that’s affixed to the wall.

I want to play— Axie begins.

Absolutely not, Marine replies.

One of the players grabs a pufferfish and yelps. Damn it! I got spiked.

It doesn’t take long before he passes out, tail-up, and his friend shouts for someone to get the pufferfish cure. More often than not, a game of pufferfish darts ends in someone getting poisoned, and so here at the Shipwreck Cavern, there’s always some pufferfish cure behind the bar.

Most of the bar’s clientele barely react to the news of the poisoning. They just continue to drink as if nothing has happened.

Third one today, a little old man says, tail swishing next to a tall table as I pass by. Damn foolish kids.

They’ll never learn. His companion shakes her head, her silver hair waving through the water almost hypnotically.

I think it looks fun, Axie says wistfully. I guess when you spend years stuck in a tank, even getting spiked by a pufferfish seems appealing.

Music starts to play in the next room, and the entire bar goes suddenly silent. Everyone swims next door without saying a word. I follow after them, straining to look over their shoulders to see the band that is playing.

They sound amazing. Better than Not A Vampire, even. The singer’s voice seems to have put everyone, including the bartender, into a trance of some sort. Everyone takes a seat or leans against the walls; some even sit on the ground so they can stare up at the band, their eyes wide with wonder, tails flapping in time with the music.

When I can finally see the stage, now that everyone is no longer blocking my view, I baulk and duck behind a barrel that is being used as a table. The people sitting around it don’t even notice my odd behavior. Their gaze is focused on the band.

What are you doing? Axie asks.

Shh! I mutter, feeling suddenly panicky.

Glancing around the barrel, I take in the sight of the three people in Silver Springs I had really been hoping to avoid.

Luckily, Triton’s eyes are closed as he sings from where he sits behind his drum kit. His sandy blond hair is cut shorter than it was last time I saw him. He has a smattering of light stubble, and I can see his six-pack peeking through his wet shirt. Of course, Triton wouldn’t bother to spell his clothes to remain dry. He would much rather give all these female sirens a show.

The lyrics of his song are haunting, and for a second, I wonder if he’s singing about me. Except that’s not likely, because if there’s one thing I know about Triton, it’s that he’s a player. I’m just one more notch on his bedpost. The night we shared together when I was eighteen means nothing at all to him—which is a good thing, since it was a huge mistake.

His brothers are just as gorgeous as he is. Although in completely different ways.

Oceanus’s hand is running through his honey blond hair. His beard is