Isla Emerged: The Isla Emerged Series

By Deidre Sequeira

Anger. Betrayal. Exile.

 

Isla always knew she would be queen. One day. But after the death of her mother, matriarch of the Southern Pacific merfolk kingdom, that day grew much closer than she was prepared for. Worse, to become a mermaid queen, she must marry. It is the only way to protect her kingdom.

 

Forcibly betrothed to her childhood friend and father's fiercest warrior, Isla is desperate for an escape—no matter the cost. But until she marries, her father is filled with a power his body cannot handle, and his control is steadily slipping.

 

After an explosive fight with her father, Isla flees to the surface, only to find herself in the middle of a violent storm with two choices: swim to safety or save the human man she sees drowning in the tumultuous waves.

 

Her decision will change her life, as well as her kingdom, forever.

 

A story inspired by "The Little Mermaid" like you've never seen before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deidre Sequeira
• Release date: Jun 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393276333

Deidre Sequeira

Deidre Sequeira is resident of and teacher in San Antonio, TX. She enjoys reading, karaoke, and late night dinners and coffee at Jim's diners. She has her B.A. in English with a Concentration in Teaching Certification and is a great proponent of education, especially of the arts and humanities. 

Book preview

1

Isla’s eyes were closed as she floated against the underwater current, staying low to the ground. Her hands gripped the sand loosely, and the tiny grains slipped between her fingers. Her green eyes opened to the sound of Maryn, her best friend and lady-in-waiting, calling her name. She let out a small groan and squeezed her eyes shut again, tighter this time. She did not want to be dragged back to the palace to be yelled at by her father. She especially did not want to see Alistair’s firm expression when he scolded his betrothed for acting like a child. She could feel it when Maryn swam up beside her, yet she didn’t acknowledge her presence.

Isla, Maryn’s voice was steady and expectant; Isla did not reply. With a sigh, Maryn moved around to float between Isla and the current, making her sink and gasp as the force she’d used to stay still made her collide with Maryn’s stomach. With a huff, Isla turned to look at her friend.

Why must he always send you to take me back? Her dark brown hair floated around her shoulders as she propelled herself up and away from the current.

Maryn chuckled, swimming up to meet her. Because he knows I’m not afraid to resort to drastic measures. Be glad he didn’t send Alistair or a guard. The girl looked at Isla with worried features. He’s furious, you know.

Isla sighed, shrugging a petite shoulder. When is he not? He wasn’t always the angry, cold king that he was now. Once, he’d been kind and gentle, but when her mother, Eira, died three months ago, that being morphed into a man their citizens feared and she no longer recognized. It seemed as though her mother had been the balm that soothed his temper. Despite his newfound impatience, Isla had been giving her father trouble ever since he announced that she was to be married to Alistair, the kingdom’s most fearsome warrior and one of Isla’s oldest friends. This was within a week of her mother’s death. Without her mother’s powers to protect the kingdom, it was now the young Isla’s job.

In a world where the strength of a queen equaled the strength of her kingdom, one could not survive without a queen. The powers she gained from consummating a marriage was what served as the protection for everyone in their realm. With her mother gone, her father inherited her powers, temporarily. Before the year was up, they would be defenseless.

All of this was understood by Isla; she was not blind to the dangers that she and her people would soon face. However, her seventeen-year-old mind was furiously rebelling at the idea of an arranged marriage, a business transaction at her expense. She had no qualms with Alistair himself, for she knew he was just as much a victim of her father’s hastiness as she was, and, to give him credit, he was handling their situation with far more grace than she. Where she caused her father as much headache as possible, he nodded and bowed and did his job. But his job should not require him to cede his right to choose his marriage mate. On top of that, she didn’t want someone to marry her out of a sense of duty.

She wanted to marry for love, the way her parents had. If anyone should understand that, she would think it would be her father. She didn’t understand why he didn’t want her to choose her own husband. Begrudgingly, she knew that it was because the stronger her mate, the stronger her power would be, but she still felt like she could do this without hurting anyone or forcing two people together who simply didn’t want to be with each other. Granted, she’d also rather wait until she was ready, but she feared that day might never come.

Thinking of all her troubles made her miss most of Maryn’s warning. She tuned back in as Maryn finished.

It was very important that you were there and… I think this was a little much, even for you, Is.

Isla rolled her eyes and looked at her friend. Mare, everything is ‘very important’ when my father speaks. Missing one more of his ‘very important’ dinners is not going to be the end of the world. Maryn didn’t look so sure. In fact, she looked almost astonished at Isla’s nonchalance. Trust me, she interjected when Maryn opened her mouth to speak.

With that, she flicked her golden fin, swimming with more speed. A sly smile spread across her lips as Maryn moved faster, giving her a sideways glance as she passed by. Isla sped up, getting ahead of Maryn quickly. She heard Maryn huff as she moved a little faster to catch up with the princess. With a laugh, Isla shot forward, leaving Maryn in a trail of bubbles. She heard the girl yell behind her as she struggled to meet her speed.

Their race continued through the sea around their kingdom. They zoomed past the guards at the city gates and zipped between homes and people who milled along the pathways. Their youthful laughter and teasing calls could be heard all throughout the kingdom. Mermaids and mermen alike smiled at their princess’ glee. All except her father, who was poised at the entrance to the palace, his guards floating around him menacingly.

In her exuberance, she had been looking behind her at Maryn. She was too happy about winning their race so she didn’t notice Maryn’s warning until it was too late.

She gasped as her speeding body collided with another. Ow, she moaned, looking up to see her father’s mouth set in an angry frown. His hand took her by the arm tightly as he led her away from the palace doors. With a forlorn glance at Maryn’s sorry expression, Isla followed her father’s lead.

Servants bustled about the palace, trying to stay out of the king’s way. Isla focused on the floor as they moved through the halls. She hated the palace, which was a relatively new feeling. These walls were her home; they were all she’d known for most of her life. However, without her mother, every bit of the structure seemed more ominous, more like a prison. No longer were there grand and lively balls held or cheerful conversation filling the halls. Instead, the entire place had become cold and rigid, much like her father’s new disposition.

She knew the turns he was taking without looking up and almost growled in disdain when she realized where they were going. His throne room was one of the largest in the entire palace, taking up almost half of the eastern wing. She never liked this room; the only times she’d ever been in it were when she was in trouble for one thing or another. He’d inherited the structure and its decor from his own father, a man who was as cruel as the stone room suggested.

Her father released her arm and swam ahead of her, taking a seat at his throne. As she rubbed her sore arm to get the blood flowing again, he nodded his head towards the door, dismissing his guards. All but one, of course.

Not you, Alistair, his gruff voice stopped her light-haired fiancé in his tracks. He turned immediately, his stony, handsome face not giving away any sense of emotion. It was a far cry from the animated and good-natured expressions he’d made in their youth.

Your Majesty, he said with a bow of his head. The doors to the room shut loudly, effectively making Isla feel like she was sealed inside forever. Alistair swam up beside her; his sharp grey eyes met hers and softened a bit, but the tender look was gone as soon as it had appeared. His gaze went to her father, instead, his posture modeling that of the warrior he truly was.

As she often did in Alistair’s presence lately, she rolled her eyes. She looked defiantly at her father, her jaw tight, her arms crossed, and her gaze unrepentant.

Isla, her father growled out, don’t you have anything to say to your betrothed?

Isla’s brows furrowed, and she glanced at Alistair, then back at her father. Uh, not really. That, apparently, was not the right answer.

Her father’s eyes burned with rage. Oh? ‘Not really?’ He lifted himself from his throne and held his arms out, gesturing to the room around them. For the first time, she looked around and noticed decorations. She was only further confused. How about I help you, hm? He swam closer to her, lowering his face to her own. It took everything she had not to flinch back. Instead, she stood her ground, almost moving closer to him, knowing it would only prove to infuriate him more. She could feel Alistair tense up beside them at her risky behavior. How about ‘I’m sorry for missing our engagement party and making you and my father look like fools.’

All her pride deflated. Her eyes closed as she cursed herself internally. When she’d run from Maryn’s fussing that morning, she hadn’t remembered about the engagement party. She thought Maryn was just trying to get her to look presentable for Alistair at another one of their one-on-one dinners, all of which her father had to threaten her in order to get her to attend. Now, she understood what she’d heard of Maryn’s warnings on their way to the palace; she understood the girl’s fear. She looked over at Alistair, who smiled at her sadly before replacing his look with one of indifference.

She felt bad for her old friend. She knew he was trying his best to get through her father’s demands, and she was making it easy on no one. She pulled away from her father, who was breathing heavily in front of her, his control slowly escaping his grip.

I’m sorry, Alistair. I didn’t remember ab—

"You didn’t remember?! her father shouted. We’ve been preparing the palace for weeks! People have been arriving for three days. Where has your head been that you have not noticed? Instead of cowering, like he would have wanted her to, Isla straightened her back. Her green eyes, those of her mother, glared at him fiercely as he ranted. I swear, Isla, if you don’t get your act together and stop acting like a child, you’re going to regret it."

"I am a child, she countered. I’m only seventeen! I don’t want this, any of it! She gestured wildly to the decorations around the room and all they represented. I don’t understand how you can be so blind to that, or, if you see it, how you can ignore it so fervently!"

His face was bright red as he pointed at her with a quivering finger, power he was still unaccustomed to crackling under his skin. This marriage is happening whether you like it or not! Slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, Alistair moved in front of her, shielding her from her father’s wrath.

She looked around the warrior’s shoulder, We’ll see about that! she spat. She tried to move around him, ready to take this fight as far as it would go. Alistair turned to look at her, his eyes giving her a warning. Control yourself, they begged. She stopped where she was and pursed her lips, looking between the two men in front of her. She knew he was right, but her pride was stronger than her reason. In a firm voice she spoke, "You cannot make me do this. You cannot force us to do this." Her eyes moved to Alistair, sympathy washing over her. She hated dragging him into this, but her father had done so, first.

I can, her father said, his tone deadly. She looked to him, not recognizing the man he’d become. And I will. She was trembling with anger when he dismissed them. "Alistair, take your bride to her room. Place a guard at the door."

Yes, Your Majesty, Alistair turned to her and placed his hand at the small of her back, pressing her forward with a gentle urgency. She resisted, at first. Please, Is, he whispered into her ear, his eyes pleading. With a sigh, she let him lead her out of the room. When the door was shut behind them and they were out of earshot from the other guards, she groaned.

He’s infuriating! Her hands flew up to her hair, and her eyes shut tightly. Oh, Alistair, I’m so sorry about all of this. I hate that he’s put you in this position. Alistair shrugged beside her.

I’ve resolved myself to it, he said with a smirk. She elbowed him in his ribs gently, a sorry smile on her lips. Seriously, he said, smiling at her, he’s only so ‘infuriating’ because you’re driving him crazy. He laughed lightly. You should have seen him earlier. The entire royal court from the Northern Atlantic was there. He was white as foam. She chuckled at the idea of her father facing his rival kingdom, which consisted of his cousin and their stuck-up family.

Damn. Maybe I shouldn’t have missed it after all, she said with a laugh. She looked up at him, her eyes apologetic. She felt like that was the only look she ever gave him nowadays. I really am sorry. I didn’t remember. It just, she struggled for the right words, holding her hands out, staring at her empty palms, slipped my mind. He nodded, his mouth pulling into something like a half smile, half frown.

I just… I wish it was a little easier. On the both of us. Translation: I wish you’d make this easier on the both of us. We’re going to be stuck with each other for a long time. The least we can do is try to make it go as smoothly as possible. She scowled at the ground.

She remembered how things were before this mess. They’d been very close once, when they were children, along with Maryn. She thought of how he’d stepped in front of her when her father almost lost control. He’d always done things like that, stepping in to protect her. It was after he joined the Guard that they’d drifted apart. It was good to know, though, that despite his reputation as a hardened warrior, he was the same kind-hearted person he’d been as a boy; many others were not so lucky, their hearts turning as hard as their muscles once the Guard got a hold of them.

She didn’t really know what to say without giving him another useless apology, so she didn’t say anything at all. She thought to herself what life would be like if she were just to give up the fight, to resolve herself in the way that he had. The idea made her cringe. As kind as Alistair was and as good as their memories were, she didn’t love him as anything more than a friend. Giving up on the fight was giving up on the possibility of love. The fact that he was taking that away from her seemed like the cruelest part of her father’s entire plan.

Both she and her betrothed were silent until they reached her room. She pushed the door open, looking back at him somberly. With a withering smile, she moved into the room and shut the door. She couldn’t keep looking at him; it just made the frustration and pain more intense. She pressed her back against the door, staring absentmindedly at her tail. She wondered briefly if the girls that dwelled above the water dealt with the same troubles as she did.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself away from the wall.