But I can’t. Because, unfortunately, the Siren King, who doesn’t like humans that much, is dangerous. I think he hates me and all human halflings. I haven’t spoken with him personally, but I’ve seen enough interviews of him spewingresentment and fear about my presence to get the message loud and clear.
Maybe if he and I hung out once, he’d come around.
I can see you shaking your head at me, saying not to waste my time on getting a man’s attention. Don’t worry, the Siren King is over two hundred years old and dangerously powerful. Trust me, I’m not trying to get his attention.
Unfortunately, the last time Hyvenmere was widely open to humans was during the seventeenth century. During that period, Hyvenmere’s political leaders all unanimously agreed to close the gates to protect the realm from humans and their destructive habits. Barring them from sailing Hyvenmerian seas.
So the Siren King kind of has a point, because as you and I know, humans generally suck. But the thought of the one single door leading me to my family, my history, being closed forever, makes me sick to my stomach.
Thankfully, I’m not the only one who feels that. The other human halflings want to be able to walk both realms freely, and a lot of Hyvenmerians want an opportunity to see if their mates are in the human realm, too.
What would you do, Van?
I feel like you’d give the Siren King the finger while holding the gate open yourself—assuming you believe everything I’m telling you in this letter.
That, again, you may or may not ever read.
I could also see you stepping foot in this realm, seeing all the danger and uncertainty, and shaking your head with a dramatic frown, before you moonwalk out of it.
And I wouldn’t blame you one bit, because you and I have been through enough.
I’ve opened up to Liam about a lot, including what you and I experienced in the foster system. He was filled with rage. Itwas also the first time a man had held me in years, and I cried through the whole thing.
God, I wish I could talk to you more about Liam. About my very inappropriate feelings toward him, which sadly seem to be unreciprocated. I swear every man in this realm only has “mate-eyes.” It’s all or nothing with them.
But I love you. And I prioritize your safety. Maybe I can win the Siren King over so that he’s less aggressive toward humans and halflings like me.
Maybe then, I can let you into this world if you’d like.
Unfortunately, I don’t think that will happen.
For now, all I can do is write this letter. Maybe one day you’ll find it. Maybe you’ll get a chance to read it. But, if our friendship is destroyed because I’ve kept too many secrets from you to trust me again, I wouldn’t blame you.
I’m so sorry, Vanessa.
I’m so, so sorry.
-Audrey
Chapter 1
Ihad finally ditched the guy who was following me.
Maybe he wasn’t actually following me. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
But I wasprettyconfident he was following me.
I sensed that I was being watched as soon as I stepped out of my home earlier this morning. I glanced around, expecting to make eye contact with someone, but there was no one around. No one on my street looked suspicious, either. My neighbors were approaching, and they waved politely as they entered our apartment building behind me, but they weren’t the reason I felt watched. As I did another scan of my street, tourists who were shouldering heavy, brightly colored beach totes, smiled at me as they passed.
I decided to walk a different route to my coffee shop, playing it safe.
I kept checking over my shoulder as I made my way through the narrow streets of Marina Vista, a touristy beach town in southern California. The place I had called home for most of my thirty years.
The marine layer was thick and humid this early in the morning, just as I liked it. I passed the public library, as well asmy favorite pizzeria. I made a mental note to go there for lunch, since the painted letters on their glass windows announced a special on their veggie-lovers pizza.
All the while, the uneasy feeling that I was being watched never truly left. Not when I opened my coffee shop for the day, not when I spent hours brewing drinks and wiping surfaces. Not when my employees and I prepped for Jam Night, and not when I closed down the shop and decided to make my way to the harbor to pout.
The sun had set hours ago. The moon’s reflection danced along the salty waves. Following the habit I had maintained all day, I checked over my shoulder again before I turned a corner.
