How much can one evening possibly change when my mind is already decided?
“Don’t go,” I call, as he turns from the bed.
The merman pauses, the muscles of his back tighten. Slowly, he spins back towards me, his white eyebrow raised. My cheeks heat as I shrug, spearing a piece of fish with my fork.
“I—I don’t want to be alone right now.”
The merman stares at me. I hold my breath, awaiting his dismissal, but it never comes. Instead, he waves his hand, and a blue upholstered chair with a high back appears. He settles his massive frame into it, the wood creaking under his weight.
Something warm floods my stomach, and I choose not to examine it too closely. I take a bite of fish. It melts on my tongue. The herb butter is beyond decadent. I devour half the fish as I feel the merman’s eyes upon me. Popping a tomato into my mouth, I chew it thoughtfully before speaking.
“I remember you saving me,” I confess. “I thought I was dying—that you were some entity sent to shepherd me to the afterlife.”
Raw emotion flickers in his gaze.
“As I said, you were in rough shape. I nearly hadn’t made it to you in time.”
“Seems as though good luck finally favored me.”
His gaze traces over my face.
“Mine as well.”
My skin prickles with awareness. I’ve always been good at avoiding attention. As a single woman, drawing too much scrutiny is never a good thing, especially in a town like Bluewater. However, I’m finding I don’t mind the way the merman stares at me.
My brush with death must’ve robbed me of my sanity.
“What caused all of this?” he asked. “Surely the people of Bluewater aren’t routinely tethering women to rocks in the middle of the sea as offerings to my father?”
I huff a humorless laugh.
“That’s true. The whole human-sacrifice-to-the-Kraken thing is relatively new. Born out of starving people’s desperation.” Taking a sip of water, I shake my head. “Desperate people do not listen to reason. It was more logical to them to sacrifice me by believing the ravings of the mad pirate Blacktide than to find a more viable solution for the decrease in supplies at the market.”
The merman’s eyes widen.
“My father is not responsible for the poor luck of the sailors. The sea condemns those it chooses. Even my father is a servant toitswill.” He waves a dismissive hand, eyes narrowing in on me. “Forget all of that. No one tried to stop them? No one spoke up on your behalf? Surely your family tried to save you.”
I shake my head, and a familiar sting sensation pricks my eyes.
“I’d have to have one, but alas, it’s just me. No parents, no husband. It was easy for them to choose me. There’s no one in this world who cares if I live or die.” A small smile curves my lips. “Well, apart from you, it seems.”
The merman leans forward in his chair. I could drown in the depth of his gaze. His fin-like ears twitch slightly.
“I do care.”
The warmth inside me unfurls. It prickles along my arms and down my legs. Kindling hidden spots within me. The longer I stare at him, the clearer his handsome face becomes. The sturdy bridge of his nose, the fullness of his lips. Heat covers me, the thin scrap of silk suddenly feels like it’s smothering me. I rub my thighs together, trying to soothe the ache that’s building there. None of this makes sense, and I suppose for now it doesn’t have to.
I let myself feel and lose myself in his gaze. The merman is very handsome. Scales and all.
He leans closer, and my body mirrors him. I can scent saltwater on his skin. The pale strands of his hair shimmer like crystals. What would those scales feel like against my fingers? My lips? My pulse pounds, and his eyes dip to my neck as if he can hear it.
“Are you afraid of me?”
I raise a brow.
“Should I be?”
“No. No harm will ever come to you from me.”
