“Let us see who holds the Eye now,” she said. Her voice layered—hers, and another beneath it. The shadows pressed close as the surface of the bowl went unnaturally still. Shapes rippled across it, faint and shifting.
A cold pressure swept through the shop, and Nerina stiffened beside me. “What is that?” she whispered.
Séraphine didn’t pause her work. “Loa,” she said quietly.
Nerina blinked. “What areLoa?”
“The spirits, chère,” Séraphine clarified, gathering herbs. “They protect, they guide… they move between this world and the next.”
Nerina glanced toward the shifting shadows. “And they listen to you?”
“When they choose to,” Séraphine said with a small tilt of her head. “If they think you worth hearin’, they’ll answer.”
Their presence wasn’t visible, but the signs were unmistakable—the floor creaked under no weight, a low hum vibrated through the walls, and the air grew cold enough to sting. Séraphine continued the ritual, fingertips gliding through the violet surface, guiding it. The candles dimmed, their flames thinning to weak points of light.
Séraphine closed her eyes, tilting her head, listening to distant voices. One by one, the shadows receded, thinning into nothing. The shop remained heavy with ritual—burning herbs, cold air, and spent magic. The candles sputtered, drained. Silence settled between us.
Now, all we could do was wait.
Meanwhile, Nerina had begun to wander through the shop, her fingers trailing over the strange relics and vials that lined the shelves. Bottled shadows, bones etched with forgotten runes, and silken bags filled with dried, unidentifiable things. I kept a close, watchful eye on her, my gut twisting with unease. This was not a place to touch things lightly.
Séraphine’s chuckle danced through the air, "Tell me somethin’, when’d ya start fallin’ for that girl, hmm?"
I scoffed and looked away from Nerina. “What? You are mistaken. She’s useful. A way to break this curse. After that, I’m done with her.”
The words were out before I could stop them and my stomach dropped. Too fast. Too revealing. Séraphine didn’t miss things like that.
Her head tilted, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Mm. Dat so?” Her tone was light, but her expression wasn’t. “An’ what makes you think a lil’ mermaid could break your curse, Cap’taine?”
The room suddenly felt smaller. I hadn’t meant to expose that piece—not to her, not to anyone.
Shit.
“She’s convenient. That’s it.” I said, keeping my voice even.
Séraphine tilted her head, eyes flickering. "You looked at me like that once. So don’t go tellin' me you ain’t sweet on that girl. I sees right through ya."
I didn’t respond right away. I glanced toward Nerina, still standing near the doorway, and something in my chest pulled taut. Even like this—wind-tossed, salt-kissed, exhaustion smudged beneath her eyes—she was breathtaking. Not just in the way she looked but in the way her presence alone made this haunted place feel less daunting. Like maybe, just maybe, there was still light left in the world.
I didn’t know when it happened—when helping her started to matter more than saving myself. When her laughter became more than a sound—it was a promise, a tether. Like a melody I'd forgotten I used to believe in, before the curse, before the hunger. She made me feel... alive again. She was light. Stubborn, infuriating, reckless light. And saints, how it cut through the dark in me. She didn't understand what she was doing. How she challenged me. How she made the ache in my bones feel like a heartbeat again. I couldn't help but want to be near that light. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was stupid. But for the first time in so long, I didn’t feel like a shadow. Not entirely.
The way she smiled, even when the world tried to break her, cage her—she still believed it could be beautiful. It made something twist in my chest. It made me remember I used to feel things.Before the curse. Before blood and silence and centuries of shadows.
In the way Séraphine had once drawn out the darkest parts of me—our love forged in blood and fire—Nerina did the opposite.
She lit me up. Not like a spark, not like a match. Like the sunrise I don't remember. Like warmth after centuries of cold. She didn’t demand the shadows from me. She didn’t want the monster. She just… looked atme. To her, there was still something worth seeing.
Séraphine taught me how to burn. Nerina showed me there was something worth surviving the fire for. And I hated it. I hated how much I noticed her. How much I was starting to care. Because caring got people killed. And if she ever died because of me...No. I wouldn’t let that happen. Even if she didn’tbelongto me, I would protect her. Even if it destroyed me.
Then, the room shifted. The air, once thick with magic, stirred. A whisper curled through the space, slithering into Séraphine’s ear. She closed her eyes, listening, and then—she smiled.
"They done found it," she murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. "The Eye o' Nareth."
"Where?"
Séraphine took her time, letting her fingers glide slow around the rim of that still bowl, sticky with the remnants of what she’d offered the spirits. "Told ya once already—knowin’ like that don’t come free."
I rubbed a hand over my mouth. "What do you want? Gold? Spices? A favor?"
