“I’m coming, please just give me a minute.”
My heart is in my throat as I take a deep breath, focusing on shifting, and only when it’s been a full hour does my body transform, and I have a pair of legs again.
I quickly get out of the tub, wrapping the towel around me tightly, just as the door flies open, making me jump.
His eyes scan the room before narrowing in on me. Through the steam of the room, my heart races as his eyes trail over me, lingering on the top of my cleavage that is spilling out of the towel.
He walks into the small bathroom, and I step back, tugging the towel tighter around me. “Or did you really just want me to come in here?”
“No! We-we should go eat,” I murmur, my heart pounding. He tilts his head, his gaze dipping to my lips as he cups my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
My pulse thrums wildly under his touch.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, as though considering the idea. His lips graze the shell of my ear, breath hot, sending shivers racing down my spine. “Let’s.”
Before I can move, his fingers ghost along the inside of mythigh. My breath hitches, and I press my legs together, but it’s useless. He slides higher, teasing, claiming space I swore I’d never give him. My knees weaken, heat coiling low in my stomach, betraying me.
He chuckles, the sound dark and velvety, the kind that seeps under your skin. Pulling back just enough to look at me, his smirk is pure arrogance. “I thought you’d rather die than let me touch you.”
The flush on my skin isn’t just from the steam anymore. Rage burns hot enough to smother the trembling desire I can’t deny. My glare is sharp as I wrench free, the towel slipping precariously, my fists tightening around the fabric.
He turns away with the triumphant air of someone who’s just claimed a prize, striding back to the bedroom without waiting for a reply. My chest heaves, anger and shame clashing inside me. What unsettles me most is not that he touched me, but how dangerously close I came to wanting more.
He’s only wearing a pair of sweatpants, low on his hips, and I can’t help but let my eyes linger on the ink sprawled across his shoulders and arms. His torso is a map of scars and stories, a reminder of who he is, and who I’ve chosen to follow into this room.
He settles on the bed like he owns it, one leg bent lazily, the other planted on the floor, leaving me with nowhere to sit but opposite him. A tray of food awaits us, though it feels like the last thing either of us wants.
I pull the oversized shirt over my damp skin; the fabric clinging in places, and let the towel drop to the floor. My back to him, I hook my thumbs into the delicate lace panties we’d bought on Earth, sliding them over my hips slowly, pretending not to notice the weight of his gaze on me. Heat rises along myspine, though I make a show of indifference as I turn and cross to the bed, lowering myself across from him.
“I’m starved,” I murmur, my tone lighter than the air between us, thick as it is.
His eyes drag over me before he answers with a low hum, his eyes fixed on me.
I pick up a plate piled high with vegetables and rice and glance at him. “What?”
His lips quirk, but his eyes don’t soften. “Something’s different about you.”
A tremor of unease coils low in my stomach, but I mask it with a casual shrug. “A hot bath has that effect. Brings colour back to your skin, loosens the muscles.”
“Maybe,” he says, though the way he looks at me suggests he’s not convinced.
I need to steer him away, to shift the focus. I feign a yawn, stretching until the shirt rides high over my thighs, offering a flash of bare skin before I curl my legs beneath me, balancing the plate on my knees. His gaze follows the movement, slow, deliberate, as if he’s memorising every inch.
We eat in silence, though it’s not the comfortable kind. Every bite feels like a distraction, every glance a question he isn’t voicing. He finishes quickly, leaning back on his hands, his body angled towards me, the curve of his mouth unreadable.
“Tell me all about your family’s relationship with Morcant. How well do you know him? And what are their next plans?”
I look across at him. “How am I supposed to know? I’m simply a woman. No one tells me anything,” I lie.
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
I finish my plate and place it on the tray, drinking some water before I carry the tray to the door. I open it, placing the tray outside and shutting the door, buying myself a little time to think about what to say.
“Well, Morcant is powerful, and although he visits the shores that overlook our homes, he never sets foot on land. In fact, sea sirens are strictly prohibited from walking on land. I’m not sure what his reasons are. My family doesn’t really value my opinion; I have always been the outcast. The one no one wanted around, the one they say is a curse…” I frown as I look at the lamp, the glowing light a warm yellow in comparison to the cool-coloured lights we have beneath the surface of the ocean.
“A curse… why?”
“It’s a long story,” I sigh.
