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I looked into his eyes with a fiery glare. I didn't feel anything for Ethan. I didn't feel anything for anyone. The only thing I wanted to feel was Preston’s heart fading to ash in my hand.

Everyone needed to just leave me the hell alone and stop messing with my damn head.

Layne pulled away, his face falling back into that smug and devious grin. “But, by all means, use him. Get exactly what you desire, my dear.” His body slowly faded into the shadows, his voice echoing in its wake. “Just remember who you are now, Evelyn Graymore, and what you can never have. I’ll be watching, little drowned one.”

And then, he was gone.

Iswam deeper into the depths, gliding through the water unencumbered by the currents that surged against me. Drifting through the dark murk, I dragged my hand along the bottom of the seafloor, kicking up a medley of sand and silt.

It hadn't been long enough for me to explore every inch of the Bay, but there were a few places worth returning to. Tonight, I needed the one place Layne had never followed, a sanctuary of my own.

Forests of kelp appeared first as I rounded the rocky outcrop. A dense thicket of swaying fronds rose from the seafloor, reaching up toward the surface. I weaved through them, letting the long ribbons of green brush slip through my hands as I swam through the stalks.

The water was quieter here, calmer. I couldn't really describe it, but it was like the chaos of the city, and everything above me was impossibly far away, like I was untouchable here.

After a mile or so, the kelp forest opened up into a huge clearing, and there it was—my drowned tree sanctuary. I didn’t know why that was the name I’d chosen for it, but it just seemed right.

The tree towered over me, sat in the center of the clearing, massive and ancient. A drowned giant, frozen in time. Its roots sprawled out across the seafloor like grasping fingers, its trunk thick and dark.

I swam to its base, watching gleefully at the sea life that had overtaken every inch of it. Barnacles encrusted the bark in rough white colonies, and blue-black mussels clung to the hollows in clusters.

I smiled at the crabs navigating the roots with sideways precision, sometimes toppling themselves over and having to start their trek all over again. The entire tree brimmed with life. Sea urchins dotted the lower branches, their spines bristling like warnings, and snails moved slowly across the wood, leaving faint trails in the film of algae. My hands brushed along the tiny blue flowers that grew at its base, some kind of bloom I’d never seen before.

Remnants of the surface world clung to the upper branches—tangled fishing line, a few rusted lures, bobbers still painted red and white. They hung from the limbs like strange ornaments, but I didn't mind them. It was evidence that the world above me still existed, even if I no longer belonged to it.

Trickling light filtered down from the surface, and I knew the West Point Lighthouse was just a tiny swim away from here.

When I was a child, Mom had told me about places like this, scattered throughout the PNW. Just a year before she died, we’d taken a boat out past West Point, and she’d pointed out toward the water, with excitement.

“Evie, look!” I smiled as Mom’s voice echoed in my mind, relieved I could still remember how it sounded, even if it was faint. I fought against the tightness in my chest as I replayed the memory. “There used to be forests here, before the sea came and took them over,” she’d said. As embarrassing as it was, I’d cried when she told me that.

But Mom did what she did best: smiled and took my head in her hands, wiping away my tears as she pressed a kiss to my forehead and whispered into my ear, “Don’t be sad, Evie. The trees are still down there…they're just sleeping and waiting to be woken up.”

I missed her face, her kindness, and the feeling of simply having someone be there for me.

That day was magical, I thought, swallowing the lump in my throat.

And it turned out, Mom was right. I’d imagined the trees looking like something out of a fairy tale, magical and impossible, resting just below the waves, and they actually were. Now, by some twist of fate, I lived among them. But while the trees were beautiful, this wasn't the fairy tale I had hoped for.

Nestling my back against the roots of the drowned tree, I let out a long breath. The sea life continued its slow work around me, a quiet industry of creatures that had made a home out of death.

My love for the ocean had remained with me, despite my drowned humanity. Sometimes, I even tried talking to the creatures when loneliness gnawed at me. They never reacted unless I used my golden song. Never spoke back or anything, but something told me they understood me, or that’s what I convinced myself.

Regardless, it was still the only type of interaction I felt safe having, especially when the alternative was Layne.

I grimaced at the thought of him. At least he’d never bothered me here. This spot was mine alone. Despite the silence, I couldn’t shake what he’d said.

Whatever warmth flickered inside that dead heart of yours—it will be the death of him. The curse will make sure of it.

Pressing my eyes shut, I gripped my fists tight, nearly drawing blood from my claws. I let out a sigh and focused on the deep press of the water around me.

He’s wrong. I don't feel anything for Ethan, I thought, even though I was staring down at the hand that had held his.

Okay, sure, he was attractive. His smile was shy and genuine. It was nice, that's all. Hell, my only comparison was Layne fucking Murrows. It really wasn't saying much by admitting I enjoyed talking to Ethan.

I mean, what the hell? Was it some crime to not want to be surrounded by rot, entitlement, and men who thought they owned me? Ethan had looked at me as if I were a person for once, and there's nothing wrong with that, nothing at all.

Although I still couldn't understand how there had been no darkness within him. Layne had told me everyone carried it, some more than others, but still everyone.