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“This…this can’t be real,” I muttered, my voice shaking with disbelief. My hands reached for my tail, touching the smooth scales as though that would prove it wasn’t a part of me. But the cold sensation under my fingers sent a jolt through me. It was real. This was me now.

This couldn’t be happening. Not to me. Not like this.

“What…” I said, my voice almost a whisper as I stared down at the impossible. “What did you do to me?” My gaze darted to her, searching for answers, for anything that could explain this nightmare.

Her expression softened, but her eyes held a sadness I hadn’t seen before. She didn’t flinch, didn’t look away from my confusion, my disbelief.

She knew.

She’d known this was coming.

“It wasn’t me,” she breathed, her voice steady. “Adrian, you’re… transitioning. Your hybrid nature is emerging.”

“Hybrid?” I choked out between gasps. My throat burned, my heart pounding so violently I thought it might burst.

My hands dropped from the tail as anger surged through me, the confusion twisting into something sharp, something that burned.

“This isn’t possible!” My anger bubbling to the surface, I shouted as I turned to face her fully.

“I’m human! I’ve always been human!” My voice cracked with frustration, with the absurdity of what I was saying, even though the evidence was right in front of me. “This…this is a mistake. It has to be.”

Her gaze didn’t waver, but I saw the pain in her eyes, the regret she tried to hide.

“I wish I could tell you it was,” she murmured, her voice soft but unyielding. “But it’s not. This is what you are. What you’ve always been, even if you didn’t know it.”

I stared at her, my heart beating wildly, every instinct I had screaming that this couldn’t be happening. That this was some cruel joke, a dream I’d wake up from any second now.

Another wave of searing pain coursed through my body. Hybrid . The concept seemed impossible, unreal. How could this be happening?

But as the minutes stretched on, as I looked down at the tail that now replaced my legs, reality crashed over me. I wasn’t dreaming. This wasn’t some nightmare I could shake off.

This was real.

The truth of it settled into my bones, heavy and cold. My chest tightened, the disbelief giving way to something else, fear. I didn’t know who I was anymore.

The pain finally subsided, leaving me breathless and shaking. “I’m a… monster?” I muttered. The words felling like a final blow, the last shred of normalcy crumbling around me.

Her eyes flashed, her brows knitting together, and I saw the shimmer of unshed tears threatening to spill over.

My chest tightened, a cold pang of regret twisting deep inside me. I cursed myself silently. The guilt settling over me like a weight too heavy to shake off. I never meant to hurt her, not like this, but it didn’t matter. The damage had been done, and I could see it in her expression.

Before I could force the words of apology past the lump in my throat, her voice sliced through the silence, steady, but there was something raw beneath it. A quiet strength, but with a tremor I couldn’t ignore. Something I couldn’t quite read, but it hit me harder than I expected.

“Half Triton, actually,” she said, her voice raw, cracking with a pain that made my chest ache. The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. “But that doesn’t change who you are, Adrian.”

Her tone, laced with hurt, stung more than the revelation itself. But I didn’t have time to process it. Instead, I let out a bitter laugh, hollow and sharp, like it didn’t belong in my chest.

“Doesn’t change who I am? Look at me!” I gestured to my tail, the twisted reminder of everything I’d lost in one night, of the things I still didn’t understand. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. How the hell did this happen?”

Her gaze dropped. But I couldn’t back down now, not when the questions shredded at me. Not when the confusion and frustration boiled over.

“I need answers!” The words were a growl, raw and unfiltered, slipping out before I could stop them. Even I felt the edge in my voice, a sound that startled me.

To her credit, she didn’t flinch, even though the sadness in her eyes didn’t disappear. It hit me harder than I expected, because I wasn’t angry at her. I was angry at everything else, at the mess I was in, at myself. But never her. I needed to get it together.

She took a breath, her voice softer when she spoke, and it threw me off balance. There was no hesitation, no walls in her words. It caught me by surprise, especially after the tension that had built between us.

“I will give you the answers I can,” she said, her voice steady, the calm that made me confirm she had known this was coming. “Your near-death experience activated your hybrid powers, and with that came the first shift. You turned into something like me… so to speak.”

Triton.

Hybrid.

Her words landed heavily, and I felt them resonate in the pit of my stomach, even though I hadn’t fully processed what she meant.

I fought to keep my composure, even as my mind scrambled to make sense of everything. None of this, none of this, made any sense, yet here I was, stuck in a world I didn’t understand, trapped in a body I didn’t recognize .

I swallowed hard, forcing down the sharp edge of panic that still threatened to overwhelm me. “It will be like this forever?” I asked, my voice quieter, though the tremor in my chest betrayed my calm.

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “You can shift back, just like I can.” Her words were quick and clear, no ambiguity, no hesitation. Just the facts laid out plainly.

I blinked, thrown off by how matter-of-fact she sounded now. Her tone had shifted, lost the cryptic edge. It felt almost too easy, too simple. I needed more than this, though. I needed control, something to anchor myself to.

“How do I do it? And… when can I leave?” I asked before I could stop myself, the words tumbling out like a dam breaking. There was a flicker in her eyes, a shadow of something, disappointment, maybe, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a calm expression.

“You just have to visualize yourself with legs, and let the feeling course through your body,” she explained, her voice steady, though there was a faint flush on her cheeks now. “Also… your clothes are in pieces, so if you don’t want to be naked, I suggest you wait until I bring new ones.”

Her gaze lingered on my torso, and the blush deepened as her words faltered. For a split second, I caught the flash of something in her eyes, a picture, maybe, of what she was imagining. My heart skipped, a knot of discomfort tightening in my chest, though it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips before I caught myself. Not the time.

“Fine,” I muttered, pulling myself back to the present. “And when can I leave?”

Silence stretched between us like a weight in the air. She wasn’t answering immediately, her gaze shifting away from mine. There was something she wasn’t telling me .

“I will free you,” she said, her voice heavier now. “But right now, you will remain here for one week.”

The words hit me like a stone, and irritation flared inside my chest. One week? I wasn’t used to this, being confined, powerless, trapped. But I kept my face neutral, as best as I could.

“One week,” I echoed, more to myself than to her. The words tasted bitter, a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.

“Adrian…” Her voice was low, but it reverberated through me like a silent command. When her eyes met mine, something cracked, something I couldn’t quite name but felt deep within my bones. I couldn’t tear my gaze away, as if the very air between us thickened, pulling me in with an undeniable force.

The tightness in my chest, the magnitude of everything I’d just learned, it all faded into nothing. Nothing but her. Her eyes held me captive, intense and unblinking, drawing me closer with every heartbeat.

I couldn’t explain it. It was like I was tethered to her, an invisible thread pulling at me from the inside out. Her gaze, too deep, too knowing, like she could see through the walls I’d spent years building, had a magnetic pull. And at that moment, I was helpless to resist.

My blood racing, the breath in my lungs stalling, as if the very act of being this close to her slowed everything down. There was no logic, no reason left to fight it. It was like gravity itself had decided that nothing else mattered, and I was bound to her.

For a long, breathless second, I simply stared, drowning in the depth of her gaze.

“I have to go,” she murmured, her voice soft but carrying an edge of reluctance, like she didn’t want to leave either. “But you should be safe now.” And just like that, the spell broke. Her body shifted, and reality crept back in, but that connection, that feeling, lingered in the air .

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly exposed, my heart hammering in my chest. What the hell was that? I had to force my mind back to something practical, something distant. “Fine…” I muttered, trying to push the weirdness down, but it stuck to me.

My mouth opened before I could stop it, words almost tumbling out. “Will you…”

I stopped myself. What was I thinking? Asking her to come back? No, that wasn’t my concern. This situation had already become too complicated. I shook my head inwardly, trying to regain control, but it wasn’t easy with her standing so close, her presence wrapping around me.

She giggled softly, but it sent a shiver through me. Wait, had I said that out loud? I didn’t think I had.

No. Definitely not. This was… weird.

I cleared my throat again. “After you go, I can shift back?” I asked, the question slipping out more to keep her near than because I actually needed the answer.

She paused, and that little smile, slightly amused, knowing, tugged at the corner of her lips. As if she knew exactly what I was doing, but didn’t call me out on it. Thank the gods for that.

“Yes,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring.

“Just focus, and you’ll shift back. But like I mentioned before, I’ll bring clothes first.” Her words were light, but there was a glint in her eyes, something playful and knowing.

And I couldn’t help but watch her, really watch her, as she turned to leave.

I couldn’t help it. The way she moved, like she was fully aware of my eyes on her, only made it harder to tear my gaze away. My pulse thudded in my chest, and a strange, unspoken longing lingered in the space between us.

She stopped at the entrance, turning to cast one last glance over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in it, something almost fragile before she masked it with that steady composure. “I won’t be long.”

And then, just like that, she was gone. The room felt colder without her. A quiet ache settled in my chest, and I stared at the empty doorway, wishing she hadn’t left.

* * *

As promised, she returned shortly, carrying a bundle of clothes.

She handed them to me wordlessly, her fingers brushing mine for a moment.

It was brief, but the contact sent an unexpected jolt through me, like a spark lighting up every nerve in my body.

I swallowed hard, fighting the strange heat flooding my chest, and twisted away to focus on something, anything, other than that spark.

Concentrating, I forced myself to think about shifting back. But as I stood there, clothes in hand, a stray thought tugged at me. Where had she gotten these clothes?

The fit was decent, the fabric soft and well-worn, like they’d belonged to someone else.

And just like that, the question of who crossed my mind, sharp and intrusive.

Before I could stop it, an irrational flare of jealousy twisted inside me, hot and sudden.

Some other man? She had access to someone else’s things?

I ground my teeth, trying to shove the feeling away, but it annoyed me, unrelenting.

I forced myself to focus on pulling the shirt over my head, pretending it didn’t matter.

Why did I care? Why was I letting this get to me?

But no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, the thought simmered beneath the surface, refusing to be silenced.

I finished dressing quickly, the shirt a little too loose, the pants a little too tight, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I wanted to be the only one to have this kind of access to her. I wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she trusted with this kind of intimacy .

That thought, that demand, pressed into my chest like a weight. This strange connection between us? I wanted it to be mine. Untouched. Unshared.

The jealousy twisted again, more insistent now, but I swallowed it down, unwilling to face it.

I turned to thank her, to say something, anything. But just like that, she was gone.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

The absence of her presence pressed in on me, filling the room with an emptiness that felt almost physical.

I stood there, staring at the spot where she’d just been, the clothes she’d brought me still warm in my hands.

Her touch, just the briefest brush of her skin against mine, still lingered on my fingertips, sending an echo through me I couldn’t shake.

The irrational jealousy churned inside me, making me grit my teeth. I knew it was stupid, knew I shouldn’t care, but I did. It made little sense. None of this did.

The near-death experience. The transformation. The revelations.

I wasn’t supposed to feel anything beyond the shock of it all, but somehow, she had slipped through, weaving her way into the cracks I hadn’t even realized were there.

And now, with her gone, everything felt dull. The room felt empty, like someone had sucked the color out of it.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling in my chest. I needed answers, needed a plan to get out of here, to regain some control. But her eyes, the inexplicable draw I felt, and our strange attachment, which intensified with every encounter, tangled every thought of mine.

A groan slipped from my lips as I shook my head.

This would not be easy.