"With everything we have." Thane's voice cracked, his lips pressing against my shoulder, warm through the thin fabric of my shirt. "With everything we are."
They took me to the garden.
The bioluminescent plants swayed around us in the gentle current, casting everything in soft blues and greens and purples.It was like swimming through a dream—or maybe through one of the lullabies my mother used to sing, back when she still sang to me. Fish darted between coral formations, their scales catching the light and throwing it back in scattered sparks. Anemones waved their delicate tendrils like fingers reaching for the stars.
And somewhere in the distance, I could hear the low, mournful call of something large moving through the water. A whale, maybe. Or something older. Something that had been swimming these depths since before humans crawled out of the sea and learned to walk on land.
Vale settled onto a ledge of coral and pulled me into his lap, my back against his cool chest. His arms wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder, and I felt his breath ghost across my neck with each exhale. Thane curled around us both like a living blanket, his golden-brown eyes still wet but softer now, some of the fear fading as we settled into the quiet.
"Tell us something." Vale's voice was a murmur against my ear, his hands tracing idle patterns on my arms—spirals and whorls, like the shells scattered across the ocean floor. "Something you've never told anyone."
"I've already told you everything." I said, the words coming out tired and worn thin, like fabric rubbed too many times. "All the worst parts. All the ugly pieces."
"Not the worst parts." Thane's hand found mine, his fingers lacing through mine with a gentleness that made my throat tight. "Something... small. Something that mattered to you once. Something that made you happy, before everything went wrong."
I thought about it. Really thought, digging past the fear and the pain and the years of running to find something bright buried underneath. Some small, precious memory that hadn't been tainted by everything that came after.
"There was a cat." I said slowly, the memory surfacing like something long buried rising to the light, hazy and warm like sunlight through water. "When I was small, before I presented. A stray that used to come to our kitchen window every morning without fail. He was white as snow, with one blue eye and one green, and he moved so silently he seemed to appear out of thin air." I smiled despite myself, the expression feeling strange on my face after so long. "I named him Ghost."
"Ghost." Thane repeated the word softly, like it was something precious.
"I used to sneak him scraps of food. Bits of fish when we had it, crusts of bread when we didn't. My mother never knew—or if she did, she never said anything." The memory ached, but it was a good ache. A sweet ache. "He would eat out of my hand, eventually. Let me pet him, even. He was the first thing that ever trusted me."
"What happened to him?" Thane's voice was soft, careful.
"I don't know." I admitted, and the admission hurt more than I expected, the words scraping against something raw inside me. "He stopped coming after I presented. Maybe he could sense the change in the house—all the tension, all the watching. The way my parents started looking at me like I was something to be measured and sold." I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Or maybe he just moved on. Found somewhere better, someone kinder." I paused, staring at the bioluminescent plants swaying around us like gentle spirits. "I like to think he found somewhere safe. Somewhere he was loved."
"Like you did." Vale's arms tightened around me, his voice rough with emotion. "You found somewhere safe too."
"I found you." I said softly, turning in his arms to look at both of them—Vale with his silver eyes and sharp edges, Thane with his golden warmth and endless tears. My monsters. My protectors. My heart ached with how much I wanted to keepthem. "Is that... is that really better? Living in the ocean forever? Becoming a siren, leaving everything human behind?"
"Is there anything human you want to keep?" Thane asked it without judgment, genuine curiosity in his wet eyes. His head tilted slightly, like a curious animal.
I thought about it. The ship with its creaking boards and salt-stained sails. The crew with their calculating eyes and grasping hands. The life I'd built from nothing, always running, always hiding, always afraid that the next day would be the day my luck ran out.
"No." The word came out certain, solid as stone, surprising even me with its conviction. "There's nothing left for me up there. Nothing I want to hold onto. Nothing that feels like home."
"Then why do you need more time?" Vale's question was gentle, but it cut deep. His silver eyes searched mine, looking for something I wasn't sure I could give him.
I didn't have a good answer. Just fear. Just the habit of running, so deeply ingrained in my bones that I didn't know how to stop. Just the voice in the back of my head that whispered this is too good, this can't be real, they'll hurt you like everyone else has hurt you.
"I don't know." I admitted, and the honesty hurt, scraping against my throat like broken glass. "I'm sorry. I don't know."
"You don't have to be sorry." Thane pressed closer, his warmth surrounding me like the nest I didn't know I needed. "You don't have to explain. You don't have to justify anything." His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn't felt fall. "You just have to... stay. Stay with us, and figure it out, and let us love you while you do."
"I can do that." I whispered, letting myself sink into them, into the comfort of their bodies and their voices and their unwavering presence. Let myself believe, just for a moment, thatI was allowed to have this. That it wasn't a trap, wasn't a trick, wasn't going to be ripped away the moment I let myself trust it. "I can do that."
We stayed in the garden until time lost all meaning.
Vale hummed soft melodies that made the fish gather around us, their bioluminescent scales throwing dancing lights across our skin like scattered diamonds. The sound was beautiful—haunting and sweet, making something in my chest ache with longing for a home I'd never known.
Thane told me stories—ancient siren legends about the first songs ever sung, about the stars that guided them through the darkest trenches, about a time before humans when the ocean was the only world that mattered. His voice was soft, reverent, and even though the tears never quite stopped streaming down his face, there was peace in his expression. Contentment.
And slowly, gradually, the fear began to loosen its grip. Not disappearing entirely—I wasn't sure it ever would—but retreating to a manageable corner of my mind, where I could acknowledge it without letting it consume me.
They scented me again before the night was over. Fresh marks layered over the fading ones, their wrists pressing against my throat, my hair, my pulse points. Making sure that when I went back to the ship, I would still carry them with me. Still smell like theirs.
Riven's mark on my wrist. Vale's in my hair. Thane's at the hollow of my throat. Kaelan's behind my ears.
