I sat up with a gasp, a small, strangled scream escaping my lips. My hands flew to my throat, clutching at the smooth skin, expecting to find the imprint of unseen fingers. But there was nothing—just the frantic thump-thump-thump of my heart against my ribs.
I wasn’t in the water.
Confusion swirled around me, thick and disorienting. I reached down, searching for the familiar flick of my tail, the smooth, powerful movement that propelled me through the river. A phantom ache resonated where it should have been.
But there was no tail. Justthis. I moved my legs beneath the sheets, the unfamiliar, awkward motion sending a jolt of fear through me. They weren’t mine. They couldn’t be. The lie of them, the wrongness of their shape and weight, was a constant, unnerving presence.
I pulled the sheets back, my breath catching in my throat. Legs. Long, pale, undeniablyhumanlegs. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I nearly screamed again.
Then, slowly, like the sun breaking through the morning mist, my memory returned. I had left the river. A man named Caio found me and took me to his home. I was on land. I had come to find the flower,Flor da Lua, which bloomed only under the light of the full moon, to save my sister.
TheSeolais. The thought of it, a solid, comforting weight I could no longer feel, sent a pang of loss through me.
The door burst open, and Caio stood silhouetted against the dim hallway light, his eyes wide with alarm, his dark hair tousled from sleep.
“Luzia? What’s wrong?”
I clutched the sheets tighter, pulling them up to my chin, the thin cotton a flimsy shield against my suddenly acutely aware nakedness. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence.
“It’s nothing,” I mumbled, my voice a dry rasp. “Just a bad dream.”
But even as I spoke, the lingering terror of the dream clung to me, cold and suffocating. Seeing him there, his brow furrowed with concern and his warm brown eyes searching mine, sent a shiver down my spine.
My pulse quickened, a traitorous flutter in my chest that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do withhim. He was right. Therewasa connection, a vibrant, humming energythat flowed between us, something undeniable, something that resonated deep within my soul.
Staring into the depths of his eyes, I knew, with chilling certainty, that this connection, this inexplicable pull toward him, would be my undoing.
It would ruin me.
It would ruin my future.
It would ruineverything.
Panic tightened its icy grip around my chest. Ihadto find the flower. My sister’s life depended on it. But what if it was too late?What if she had already passed?I couldn’t bear the thought.
Caio rushed to my side, his hand hovering just above the sheet, a silent question. “Are you all right? What’s wrong? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ I saw… I saw how you changed back then. I’m a doctor. Well, I will be soon. I can help you.”
“A doctor?” I echoed, the word strange and unfamiliar on my tongue.
“I heal people,” he explained softly, his voice laced with genuine concern.
That’swho my sister needed. But that was a dream, a cruel, impossible dream. My sister would never see ahumandoctor.
The one thing my sister needed, a healer, was right here, but he was human. “My… sister… is unwell,” I finally managed, the words heavy and choked.
A flicker of understanding crossed Caio’s face. “I can see her, if you want me to.”
I shook my head, the denial a physical reflex. The truth lodged itself somewhere between my lungs and my throat, sharp and suffocating.
Not human. Sister. We’re from the river, a different world.
How could I force those words out, watch them shatter the fragile trust in his eyes? Picturing his confusion hardening into disbelief, then fear was unbearable.
I twisted away, pressing my face into the pillow. His scent—warm skin, earthy—enveloped me, a cruel intimacy that highlighted the impossible distance between us. Each breath was a fresh wave of longing and despair.
His hand reached out, hesitant at first, then brushed against my cheek, his touch sending a wave of heat through me. He gently turned my chin, so I moved to face him, his fingers lingering against my skin.
My breath caught in my throat. The war inside me was lost in that single touch. My mission, fear, and resolve all dissolved under the intensity of his gaze. I was on borrowed time in a borrowed body, and in this moment, I wanted to feel something other than terror and grief. I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss a human man. This human man. So tender, so kind, so utterly captivating.
