After a delicious meal, a long sunset walk up and down the beach, and a few hours around the campfire, the kids are ready for bed. I offer Nico and Rio a bedtime story, but to my surprise, they ask Sky to sing them a lullaby instead.

He looks to me with a question in his arched brows, and I nod my consent. He follows them to the large tent we'd borrowed from Dane and makes sure they're all tucked in and have everything they'll need for the night (water bottles, flashlights, extra blankets in case it gets cold) before launching into a soft, low tune in the same strange tongue as last time.

I listen for a moment, but when my eyelids start to droop, I shake myself and move out of range. A few minutes later, Sky steps from the tent, zips it shut, and rejoins me by the fire.

"That was fast," I remark evenly.

He winces apologetically. "I did my best to keep magic out of it, but it's nigh impossible for a siren to sing without effect."

I smile up at him. "It's okay. Getting children to sleep without magic is nigh impossible, too."

His expression warms. "They'll sleep 'til dawn, I'd wager. Should be safe for us to take a walk."

With a hesitant glance at the tent, I chew my bottom lip. I've barely let the children out of my sight in so long, anxiety fizzles in my gut like soda water at the thought of leaving them alone.

"Martin." Sky draws my attention back to himself gently. "They'll be alright. Flora and Miguel are twelve. Do you remember what it was like to be twelve?"

I laugh under my breath. "My brothers and I were terrors. Maybe this is karma for all the stress we caused our parents. One time, we tried to catch a glimpse of a lycan — a sort of monster wolf — that had wandered onto our territory. Just about got ourselves killed. We were grounded for a month."

"Have Flora and Miguel ever done anything similar?"

"Thank the gods, no."

Sky nods. "They're intelligent, mature, and responsible children. They'll be fine, and so will the little ones in their care. Now, you and I have a date."

He extends his hand to me, and after a final hesitation, I take it and let him pull me to my feet.

He grabs a blanket and a pair of towels, and then we walk away from the campground and out across the low dunes to the gently sloping beach. It's not especially long, stretching just about a kilometer from end to end, and large waves, rocks, and riptides make it unsuitable for swimming. Pebbly sand, looming cliffs, and tidal pools make it picturesque, nonetheless, and one end harbors a secluded little cove.

We'd explored it with the kids earlier, and it is towards this Sky leads me now.

A jut of dark rock hides it from view, and if you didn't know it was there, you might miss it. At high tide, the waves cut it off from the rest of the beach. The tide is in now, but this doesn't deter Sky in the least, and he times things perfectly. As a wave withdraws its foaming white waters back into the sea, he grabs my hand and with a whoop of laughter, pulls me with him as he dashes around the wall of barnacle-encrusted stone.

On the other side, a narrow little canyon bites into the cliff. It may have started out a sea-cave, but now the top is open to the moon and stars.

Fine sand covers its floor, and high, dark walls of sea-scoured rock shield it from the wind. At its mouth, a pool shielded by a ring of rocks remains relatively still despite the waves that dash themselves against its barriers. At high tide, it will merge with the sea as the waters rise, but at the moment it appears sheltered and calm.

Sky leads me up into the little canyon and spreads our blanket on the smooth sand beyond the mark of high tide.

"Here, let's wait until the moon is higher," he says, "for the best light."

Smiling, he lies on his back and pulls me down at his side. The moon isn't visible in the stretch of sky above, but its light already outshines the lesser stars and fills the air with a silver haze.

"How many lovers have lain in this very spot, do you think?" he asks quietly.

"Lovers... Is that what we are?" I muse, trying out the word.

He turns his head to look at me and his hand finds mine. "I hope so."

"Have you had many?"

"A few, as I told you before."

"All human?"

He nods. "All save one."

"Which one was that?"

He rolls onto his side and props himself on his elbow to look down at me, his hair spilling over his muscled shoulder like a curtain. "The only one I fell in love with."

My heart clenches with an unfamiliar feeling, and I recognize jealousy only by description.

"What happened?" I ask around the sudden tightness in my throat.

He smiles. "I don't know yet. I'm hoping he falls in love with me, too."

Flushing as I catch on, I stare up at him. "What if he already has?"

"Then I'd ask if he'd consent to be mine."

"And if he said yes?"

"Then I'd bring him to a secluded beach, beneath the moon and stars, and make passionate love to him."

I wrinkle my nose. "Sounds cold. And scratchy. Sand gets everywhere, you know."

"I'd bring a nice soft blanket to lie upon, and towels in case the sea gets us wet, and a few extra things, to get us wet on purpose."

From the pocket of his loose trousers, he produces a little bottle. I can just make out the label in the refracted moonlight, and recognize it as a type of body oil that can double as lube.

"Only, of course, if he wanted to," he adds, setting the bottle aside.

Silence falls between us. The wind sighs over the canyon's top, but doesn't touch us, and the waves crash and boom with a constant and primordial beat. A similar beat pulses in my blood, and pools with a strange heat in my core as desire stirs to life, but Sky says nothing more.

He's woven his half of the net and handed the rest to me. I can finish it and ensnare us both, or let it unravel, if I wish.

Elena never offered me such power. Even when we were starting out, and everything seemed perfect, and I thought I was perfectly in love with her, she simply told me what she wanted and I obeyed.

I thought I was lucky. I'm no alpha, and being told what to do could be hot, in the right context. It only became a problem when I figured out I didn't have a choice.

Not like the choice Sky is giving me: yes, or no, and every shade of maybe in between.

"I think he'd want to," I whisper.

I see the shadow of Sky's arched brow. "I think I'd want to be sure."

Meeting his eyes in the dark, I hold his gaze. "I want to."

He smiles. "If, hypothetically, you were this one — the only one, man or woman, I have ever loved — I would want to be sure of your comfort. Do you prefer to give, or to receive? I enjoy both ends of the bargain."

Understanding his meaning, I blush. I've always been more comfortable in a passive role, and I know there's nothing wrong with that, but it's also probably why Elena chose me as a target. Still, Sky is not Elena, and word by word, action by action, he's proving it.

"Receive," I say.

Even in the dark, I see his eyes light with an inner gleam, like the moon upon the sea. "And would you have me, here and now?"

As the waves crash upon the shore and the moon peeks over the canyon's rim above, I answer with the only words I can.

"Yes, I will."