Page 14

She knew

When a hybrid is born, its true nature lies dormant, hidden from both men and merfolk.

It is said that their essence remains hidden, veiled by the guise of humanity, until the fates themselves intervene.

Only when their life hangs by a thread, when the shadow of death lingers near, does the dormant power within stir.

Scrolls detail that an attack on their lives during their time as humans will awaken an inner power, changing them into merfolk.

Thus, their true heritage reveals itself, and the sea claims them. They shed their mortal coil as the ocean’s power surges through their veins, marking their transcendence of both worlds.

* * *

Adrian

I awoke, gasping for air as though something had dragged me from the depths of an abyss. My chest ached, each breath a battle, as if the entire ocean had settled there.

The taste of brine still clung to my lips, a cruel reminder of what had just happened. For a moment, everything was chaos. Disoriented, I struggled to remember where I was, how I had survived.

The pond. The siren.

Cold, unyielding hands like iron shackles yanked me under. Darkness, the water crushing in from all sides, the terror of limbs gone slack, useless as my body surrendered to the inevitable. I had known, in those last moments, that death was closing in. There had been no escaping it.

But I wasn’t dead.

The rough feel of rock beneath me, the coarse, gritty texture digging into my skin, told me I had made it back to shore.

I blinked, dazed, struggling to adjust to the light, my lungs burning as they filled with the unfamiliar but welcome air.

My head spun, still clouded with the remnants of panic, but there was something else. A warmth. Familiar. Reassuring.

Iryen.

Her name flashed through my mind, grounding me, bringing me fully into the present.

Slowly, I turned my head, my muscles protesting with every movement, and there she was, kneeling beside me, her face pale, her breath shallow, her skin luminous even in the soft glow of the sunlight.

The sight of her, the sheer relief etched into her features, hit me harder than the chilly hands of the siren ever had.

Her expression was fierce, yet underneath, there was a vulnerability I hadn’t expected to see. Faint remnants of tears streaked her cheeks, and her hands trembled slightly where they rested on my chest, as if she feared I might slip away if she let go.

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, my voice a raw whisper. “You—” I croaked, barely able to form the words. “You saved me… again.”

Iryen’s eyes, those deep emerald pools I knew, flickered with a storm of emotions, anger, fear, relief, all fighting for dominance. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her nod sharp, almost too controlled.

“You’re damn right I did.”

There it was, the fire in her voice that matched the blaze in her eyes. It cut through the haze in my mind, sharp and clear, reminding me of who she was, of who we were.

But beneath that fire, I could hear something else, something far more vulnerable.

Fear. Fear she was trying so hard to mask but failing to hide from me.

She had been afraid for me. I could see it, feel it, in the way her hands refused to stay still, the way her breath caught ever so slightly when she exhaled.

I forced myself to move, to push past the weakness clawing at me, but the moment I tried to sit up, agony tore through my chest like a bolt of lightning. A sharp, searing pain stole my breath, and I collapsed back onto the sand with a strangled gasp.

Before I could even process the failure, her hand was there, steady, grounding. Firm yet careful, as if holding me together when my own body threatened to break apart.

“Easy,” she murmured, the warmth of her touch seeping into my skin, chasing back the cold that clung to me.

Grievance coiled in my gut, tangled with something else, something raw and unspoken. I hated this vulnerability and helplessness nagging at my insides.

“Don’t move yet,” she continued, her voice softening, though it still carried an edge of command. “You need to rest. You almost—” She faltered, her gaze dropping as she swallowed hard, clearly unable to finish the sentence.

And that’s when I truly saw her. The real her. Not the unshakable, formidable siren who had stood her ground with me. But Iryen, who had fought hard to save me and was now beside me, struggling to control her emotions.

The tension between us was palpable, like a taut wire threatening to snap.

Iryen was a force of nature, someone I could never quite figure out.

She was a mystery, a contradiction of fierce independence and unexpected tenderness.

And yet, here she was, her fear laid bare in the tremor of her fingers, in the shallow, controlled breaths she was forcing herself to take.

“That siren,” I rasped, forcing the words through the tightness in my throat, the memory of those cold, dead hands still clinging to me. “She tried to kill me.”

Iryen’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing into a hard, frosty glare. “Ithra. She won’t try again,” she said, her voice laced with icy finality. “I will make sure of that.”

There was something dangerous in the way she said it, something that made a shiver run down my spine. Whatever had happened while I was drowning, Iryen had handled it. And from the steel in her voice, she hadn’t held back.

Her words sank in. I had nearly died. And she had fought for me, fought harder than I could have ever imagined. The guilt was sudden and overwhelming. What had I done to deserve this? What had I done to warrant her risking everything for me? Nothing. I had been a rude bastard to her.

“Why you saved me?” I muttered, the confession slipping from my lips before I could stop it. “After how I treated you, everything I’ve said… I didn’t deserve it.”

Iryen’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and she leaned in close, her voice low and intense.

“Don’t you dare.” Her tone brooked no argument. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve, Adrian. Not about this. Not about me.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn’t look away. Her eyes burned with a fire I hadn’t expected, and for the first time, I saw just how deep this went. There was more to it, more than just saving me .

“I saved you because I wanted to,” she continued, her voice softer now, though no less resolute. “Not because you deserve it or don’t. But because I—” She hesitated, “Because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Her words were soft, and a whisper carried by the wind. Her confession left me breathless. The raw vulnerability in her words caught me off guard. It sliced through every defense I had, shattering whatever walls I had tried to keep in place.

“Iryen, I—” I started, but I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t used to this, feeling like I owed someone more than just an apology. But I did. I owed her my life.

Before I could figure out what to say, she shifted closer, her hand brushing my cheek. Her touch was so gentle, so warm, and for a moment, the tension between us melted away. The chaos in my mind quieted, soothed by the simple connection of her hand against my skin.

“I don’t care about what happened,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant sound of the waves. “All I care about is that you’re here. Alive.”

Her words echoed in my mind, and for the first time in a long time, I let them sink in. She had saved me. Although everything, despite being an outsider, she saved me. Maybe that was enough for now.

As I lay there, struggling to process Iryen’s words, a sharp, sudden pain ripped through my body. It was like fire searing through my veins, igniting every nerve in a blaze of agony. My breath hitched, and I tried to push myself up, but my limbs betrayed me, my strength slipping away.

I groaned, clutching my chest, the pain intensifying with every heartbeat. Iryen’s expression shifted instantly, her concern deepening as she reached out to steady me. But this… this wasn’t normal. Something was wrong. Something was changing .

“What’s happening to me?” I rasped, my voice barely more than a whisper as I fought to keep my composure.

Iryen’s hand froze, her eyes widening in realization as she stared down at me, her gaze darting between my face and my legs.

Slowly, cautiously, I let my gaze drift downward, my chest rising and falling in shallow, measured breaths as I took stock of myself. I half expected to see nothing out of the ordinary, a body bruised from the struggle, weak from near drowning, but what I saw nearly stopped my heart.

Where my legs should’ve been, familiar, solid, human limbs, was something else. Something that couldn’t possibly belong to me.

The skin along my thighs burned while scales pierced through the human flesh, dissolving into something foreign, something unnatural. My muscles spasmed, twisting and warping as my legs fused together, my bones realigning into a single powerful tail.

A tail.

A long, sleek tail that gleamed in the light, covered in deep blue scales that caught the glow of the sun and reflected it like ripples in water. I blinked, hard, certain it was a trick of the light, that my mind was playing some twisted game on me.

But no, it was there. Attached to me. Moving with every shallow breath I took.

“What the hell—” The words barely made it out of my throat before panic gripped me. I pushed myself up on trembling arms, ignoring the pain that shot through my chest and the way Iryen’s hands hovered as if she wanted to stop me.

My fingers scraped against the floor as I tried to scramble backward, but the movement felt wrong, foreign. I wasn’t used to it. I couldn’t even recognize my body.