When the Noctis comes into view below us, she appears to be waiting on me, her presence eager. I drop my shoulders in relief and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The sight of her steadies something in me, even as the knot in my chest tightens.
Nightglass and Lark stand a little apart, saying their goodbyes to their weeping wife and mother. I swallow as Nightglass wraps her into his arms and presses a kiss into her red hair, slow and careful.
My throat tightens.
I wonder how it must feel to be loved like that. To always have someone waiting for you, wanting you. It’s not that I don’t believe in love. It’s just so out of reach for me that I rarely waste time thinking of it. All the men I have met either feared me for what I am, or only wanted me because of it. So I avoided them altogether. I want someone who sees me, all of me, and decides to love me despite it.
I’m not afraid of you.
Sable’s words echo through my mind, pulling me back to the moment we shared last night. He doesn’t fit into either category. He does not fear me, but he also doesn’t want me simply because I am a siren. Which leaves me wondering if he could ever want me despite it. If he could ever feel something like that for me.
“...Sable,” Grim says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I ask him, still half caught in them.
“I said we have to leave as soon as possible, if we don’t want to further aggravate Sable.” Grim repeats, jerking his head toward the docks. “They‘re loading the remaining loot already.”
Blinking, I meet his gaze, then square my shoulders. I haven‘t tried shifting in the bone-infested waters yet, and I won’t leave before I try to do so. I told Sable as much.
I draw a slow breath. “I need to go for a swim before we leave.”
He knits his brows together and glances towards the Noctis, hesitation flickering across his face.
“We can’t risk losing the Glim,” he says, looking at me again. “It wants us to leave the island now.”
Cailia said the Glim found me, and not them. So, it will wait for me. Even though the thought of Grimsbane being here unsettles me, I can’t lose my only chance at swimming in this sea and potentially triggering my shift. I would never forgive myself.
“Please wait on me," I say. “It will only take a few minutes.”
Grim opens his mouth, then closes it again.
I don’t wait for permission. Instead, I turn on my heel and head down the docks toward the narrow stretch of beach hidden behind jagged, dark rocks. The slick stone makes my footing clumsy, and I curse under my breath as my feet slide.
As I already said, sirens do not climb mountains.
I inhale deeply as the wind picks up, bringing with it the taste of salt. The descent is much easier than the way up. The beach opens up before me, the same one where I met the siren last night. Where I talked with Sable last night. It looks different in the daylight. The sand is pale and coarse beneath my feet, dotted with shells and fragments of coral worn smooth by the tide. As the water pulls back, more dark rock is revealed near the shore. Under the faint sunlight, the sea shifts between blue and green, as though it can’t decide on one set color.
I loosen the strings of my bodice and step out of my gown, folding it carefully on a flat rock. My undergarment follows. As is usual with sirens, I care little about modesty. If we cover our breasts, our bodies, we do so because we like how it looks.
The moment my feet touch the water, relief floods through me so fast it steals my breath. The siren inside of me stirs, then settles, easing in a way she hasn’t for weeks. After yesterday, she has become restless. She slips through more than I would like to admit. I like to tell myself that I am in control, but by now I know that this is not true. Leaving the tavern last night, I was a heartbeat away from sinking my canines into the flesh of the nearest man who dared to give me a nasty glare.
We don’t kill without reason. We kill those who are a threat to us.
Sighing, I wade into the water without hurry, letting the water take more of my weight, until it is deep enough for me to float. I lay back, stretching my arms out wide. Water slips into my ears and dulls the world around me, until it all narrows down to myshallow breathing. Above me, the fog is still fighting with the sun.
Deep down, I know that this is not the sea that will trigger my shift. But I owed it to myself to try. These waters don’t feel like home, but they ground me all the same. A smile spreads across my face. How freeing it feels to swim without expecting something to happen. Maybe it is in these moments where changes sneak up on you, because you have stopped seeking them out, because you have stopped forcing it, and allowed it to happen naturally.
My thoughts circle back to the brooding pirate captain that I have tried to avoid thinking about too much this whole morning. The way he stepped in front of me protectively. The way his hand curled around mine. The feeling of his arm around my waist. I let the sea lift me, then lower me again. I wish it was more simple.
Hating him would be so much simpler.
Frustrated, I force my body upright. I wade toward the shore at a faster pace than before, my legs fighting against the water to reach the shore. My foot catches on a rock, and I stagger, arms lifting to steady myself. Teeth clenched, I push through and step out of the surf with a sharp splash.
That’s when I see him.
Sable sits on a rock just beyond the reach of the tide. One knee is drawn up, his weight settled like he's been there a while. Watching. An apple rests in his hand. He slices into it with his dagger, calm and precise, and eats a piece of it straight from the blade as he watches me intensely, with an air of nonchalance. His eyes linger on mine, then lower towards my breast, my waist, and finally, the short curls showing between my thighs.
“You’re a prick,” I mutter, staggering through the soft sand towards the rock I had placed my gown on. It gives way beneath my feet, stealing what little grace I have.
