Her eyes glance down towards my legs before looking at me again, now with a deep line between her brows.
“Nowhere,” she says quietly, “is still better than with those men.”
She turns her head toward the open water, chin tilting just enough to draw my attention past the shoreline. The sea stretches out, dark and endless.
“They will rip your heart out when they’re done with you and say it was a merciful end,” she adds in her lilting voice, no hint of fear clinging to her words. The world narrows down to what is in front of me. I know what she’s saying is true. I remember the stories told in our swarm about sirens taken by men who hoist black colors. That they are cruel, and the sacrifice of a cruel soul gives us our magic in return. But my father was not cruel. He was strict, but kind. The Crew of the Noctis could’ve treated me way worse if they wanted to. But they didn‘t. Sable didn’t.
“I don’t think they’re all the same.” My voice is nothing more than a whisper as I think about Lark. He’s still so small. He has never killed, I am certain. An image of Sable flashes through my mind, but I do my best to push it away. I have broken his trust by coming here. He probably won’t trust me again.
The siren tilts her head again, the gills at the side of her throat subtly pulsing as they try to pull in water that is not there.
“You are foolish if you mistake their laughter for kindness,” She drawls, her tail lazily flapping against the surface.
“They do not love sirens,” she continues. “They love what sirens can give them.”
My heart aches as I take her in, how she blends in effortlessly with the sea. At the sight of her tail, I dig my toes deeper into the sand until they are completely buried in it. Her eyes flick past me, fixing on something behind my shoulder.
“Pirate,” she whispers.
I turn to find Sable coming down the path from the village with a lantern in his hand, his stride long and purposeful. He doesn't slow when he sees me, but he slows when he sees her.
His entire body locks.
The air between us tightens as his hands drift toward his leather strap on instinct, fingers curling around his knife. His jaw clenches as they rank over the siren's face and her tail half-hidden by the dark water.
“Get away from her,” he snarls.
The siren's lips curve, slow and knowing. She does not retreat. She does not use her voice either. Her eyes lock on me again.
“If the sea shows mercy and gives you your tail, I hope you are as far away from humans as possible, sister.”
Sable’s gaze flicks from the siren to me. Whatever thought crosses his mind, he cuts it off with a step forward, placing himself between us. The tide kisses his boots, then retreats.
“Leave,” he says quietly, the warning clear in his voice. His hand is curled around the handle of his dagger now, ready to draw it.
The siren doesn't flinch. With a tilted head, she studies him instead. I don't miss the way Sable stills, like he’s aware of exactly how thin the line is, how close the siren is to just using her song on him and pulling him into the depths.
“Very well,” she says with a smile on her face, flashing her canines. Then she turns and sinks back into the sea. To me, it is clear that she spared his life, not the other way around. Sable doesn't move as the water settles again, the last ripple smoothing itself out.
Neither do I.
I keep my eyes on the dark water, on the place where she disappeared, because looking at him feels like it would make something in me snap.
They will rip your heart out.
Her words echo through me, relentless. I want to dismiss them. It would be easier to blame the siren for stirring my fear, for turning ordinary men into monsters in my mind.
But tonight I have seen the way they look at me. The memory of the spit striking the stones near my feet returns so vividly that my jaw tightens, and it feels as though my canines lengthen, the siren inside me baring her teeth in front of the man who spared my life. The man who spun me around the tavern mere moments ago. Anger, embarrassment and sadness hit me all at once. Anger, because of how easily they turned against me. Embarrassment, because of how defenseless I was without my song. And sadness, because of how Sable is looking at me right now.
I haven’t even noticed until now that I’ve started crying. Tears well in my vision as I avert my gaze, looking anywhere but at him. My hand covers my mouth, hiding my canines, but I know he has seen them.
Next to me, footsteps shift in the sand. I expect him to pull out his blade. To hold it against my throat, as he did when he found out what I was.
But it doesn’t come.
The lantern light grows brighter as he approaches, the warm glow cutting through the cold sheen the moon has painted across the water. I keep my eyes fixed on the sea, trying to console myself.
“Risa.”
