Page 12 of Storm and Sea (Storm and Sea Saga #1)

A treus lay on his bed , eyes open, staring at the bedroom ceiling. The wooden boards were warped, creating gaps between them. Some of the gaps were host to old spiderwebs, their owners long gone. He wondered where they went. If they had big spider families to return to. In all likelihood, they were dead, leaving behind nothing but a few cobwebs.

“You should have been killed as a babe.”

That’s what the stranger on the beach said. That was the fate of those born like him. A mutt. An unwanted bastard child.

“Halfling.”

The word sliced through him, making the corners of his eyes burn. All his life, he’d been plagued by the same question.

Why?

Why did he and his father live separately from others?

Why did the villagers in Corallina hate him?

Why did his father ultimately leave?

Atreus never got the answer; never knew why he was so hated. But in a span of seconds, all those questions were answered—thrown at him with about as much care as a butcher tossing fish guts.

He rolled over, tearing his eyes away from the abandoned web. The bed felt hard despite the mattress. He had the urge to sneak out, run to the beach, and dive into the waves. He’d never gone this long without Marvassa changing him.

“Unmasking the freak hiding beneath human skin.”

The voice sneered, using its words like a blade; it was dissecting him, peeling away Atreus’s defenses to expose the raw truth he feared others would see. That Nyel would see.

It’d been more active since his world was turned upside down.

Reminding him.

Taunting him.

“He left because you’re nothing

but a disgrace. You should’ve been snuffed

out as a baby—every breath you take is a waste.”

Shut up!

Atreus slammed the pillow over his head as though that could silence the voice. But there was no escaping the cavities cracking open in his mind.

“Nyel will leave you.

Just like everyone else.”

Atreus took calming breaths, trying to fight away the rising panic. Would Nyel leave? Atreus had made efforts to be nicer to him. But was that enough?

“Of course not. A few sweet

words could never mask

the stench of you.”

The memory of his first encounter with Nyel came back with full force. The one when they were children. Nyel’s expression was permanently scarred into his mind, no matter how hard Atreus tried to blink it away.

“Halfling Mutt! You keep your infections away from us!”

That’s what Nyel’s mother had yelled. Back then, he didn’t know what it meant. Now he did. And so would Nyel.

I’m not mad. I’m not crazy. I’m not dangerous.

Atreus chanted the words in his mind over and over.

“Are you not?”

It mocked him, its tone dripping with sadistic glee.

“Are you not mad?

With me in your head ?

Am I the Skraith in your soul?”

Shut up.

No matter how hard Atreus tried to silence it, the voice berated him all night. Just as it had countless other nights since his father left.

When things were good, it went quiet, and Atreus could almost forget it was there. But the moment his defenses crumbled, it returned.

It always returned.

Atreus rolled his left shoulder, trying to work out the pain in his back.

He imagined the old scar tissue tugging and pulling his skin. Puncturing his muscles. Scraping against bone. It throbbed despite the wound being a decade old. It was a phantom pain, all in his head. It was nothing but a scar on his back now. Yet tonight… it hurt. It hurt, and Atreus was half convinced that if he rolled over, his sheets would be stained with blood.

Atreus walked through a field of wildflowers, their glow harsh and white against the surrounding gloom. The light wasn’t warm or inviting—it was cold, so bright it hurt to look at for long. Their eerie luminescence was the only thing that existed in the endless void. No stars. No horizon. Just oppressive darkness. The diamond-shaped petals stirred a sense of nostalgia Atreus couldn’t catch. He stepped around them carefully, unable to crush even a single bloom, as if breaking one would shatter the fragile glass casing of memories he wasn’t ready to face.

But something wasn’t right.

With every step, the air grew heavier. A prickling sensation crawled up Atreus’s spine, and his heart pounded in his chest. He tried to shake it off, focusing on the glowing petals. The buds swayed to and fro, though there was no wind. The feeling gnawed at him as he sensed movement beneath his feet—something below.

He glanced back, knowing he’d see nothing. The nameless flowers danced innocently under his gaze. Still, he felt it. The ground pulsed beneath him as if something deep down was stirring. His steps quickened, fear bubbling in his throat.

Suddenly, the earth trembled.

A soft rumbling, like a beast shifting beneath the soil, sent the flowers quivering. Atreus broke into a run, his feet slamming into the soft earth as the ground beneath him rippled with every stride.

The rumbling grew louder. Faster.

He felt it, whatever it was, chasing him—hungry, savage, unseen, and terrifyingly close. His legs pumped faster. Each step felt more uncertain, the ground growing softer, threatening to give way.

The glow of the flowers was no longer comforting. It illuminated the terror—the closeness of the thing below, the thing that would soon drag him under. He tried to scream, but the sound died before it left his lips.

A crack split the ground. The earth shifted violently beneath him as something below finally caught up, ready to pull him under.

Black vines burst from the soil, reaching for him. Their thorns cut into his skin as they coiled around his ankles, dragging him through the wildflowers. Atreus cried out, his fingers clawing at the petals, ripping them from their roots. For a moment, they shimmered in defiance—beautiful and useless—before the glow faded, the petals turning black and crumbling to ash in his fingers.

They never offered any help.

They didn’t back then.

They didn’t save her .

And now, they would do nothing to save him.

The vines tightened, winding around his calves, thorns digging deeper with every pull. The ground split, revealing a yawning pit.

It was going to take him. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t?—

The voice came, low and menacing, like an echo from the earth.

“You are mine.”

“Atreus! Atreus, wake up!”

It wasn’t the sinister voice from the pit. It was…

The whispering tide.

The sighing swell of water.

The gentle murmuring of the sea.

It pulled him away from the blackness.

“Atreus!” It was louder now, more urgent. “Wake up!”

Atreus shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, heart racing so fast he might choke on it. His hands flew to his ankles, frantically searching for the vines, expecting the sharp sting of thorns. But his fingers only met smooth skin.

No vines. No thorns. No blood.

Atreus blinked rapidly, disoriented, still half in the dream, running from the tendrils. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling as the nightmare refused to release its hold. He barely noticed Nyel kneeling beside him, brow furrowed, his hand resting on Atreus’s shoulder.

“Atreus.”

Soft as the gentle hiss of seafoam. Churning currents. Rippling waves. That voice, saying his name, banished the last of the nightmare. He looked into Nyel’s micah-filled eyes.

“Are you okay? You were thrashing really bad.”

Atreus dragged a shaky hand over his face, trying to grasp some semblance of composure. “A bad dream. That’s all.”

Nyel’s hand rested steadily on his shoulder, the touch grounding, even as he likely felt the faint tremor running through Atreus’s body.

“You were thrashing so loud. I thought someone was—” He hesitated, his grip tightening as if to reassure himself Atreus was still there. “I thought someone was hurting you. For being a Mer. I was afraid it was all my fault.”

“Then why the hell did you rush in?” Atreus rasped.

“Well, I—I couldn’t just let them… I wasn’t going to let someone hurt you.”

Atreus stilled as Nyel’s words slowly sunk in. Nyel believed someone had come to kill him for being Mer. Yet Nyel had come to save him, ready to throw himself into danger. A lump tightened in Atreus’s throat.

And I told him I would watch the humans tear him apart if it came to it.

Atreus looked up, meeting Nyel’s gaze for the first time. Nyel’s face was earnest, his hair tousled from sleep. Atreus’s usual annoyance and irritation for the sireno was absent. Instead, he felt something warmer, something far more unsettling.

“I’m fine,” Atreus muttered, though his voice still trembled. “It’s just… it was nothing.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” Nyel said, his hand sliding from Atreus’s shoulder to rest on his arm .

Atreus’s first instinct was to pull away, to shrug off the concern and retreat from the touch. But something stopped him. There was a warmth in Nyel’s touch, a comfort that Atreus hadn’t expected. It had been so long since anyone saw him this vulnerable…and chose to stay.

The room was silent, save for the steady rise and fall of their breathing. Slowly, Atreus allowed himself to relax, sinking back against the pillows. He didn’t pull away from Nyel. Instead, he found himself studying the young Mer’s face illuminated by the yellow glow of the street lamp leaking through the window—the lines of worry etched into his smooth skin, the earnest concern in those eyes.

“I know you said we were friends, but…” Nyel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I know you want me gone.”

Atreus hesitated. He had wanted that—he’d spent days trying to push Nyel away, to shake off the burden of him. But right now, with Nyel sitting beside him, his presence felt like anything but a burden.

“I did,” Atreus admitted.

Nyel’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope sparking at his use of the past tense. “I’m not here to make your life harder,” he said genuinely. “I just… I didn’t want to be alone either.”

For the first time, Atreus wondered if there was more than one type of ‘alone.’ That, even surrounded by family, Nyel was isolated. Suddenly, Atreus didn’t feel annoyed, didn’t feel the urge to push the sireno away. He felt something else—something he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was trust.

“Thanks for waking me,” Atreus said gruffly, “I’m good now.”

Nyel’s hand lingered on his arm for a moment longer before he pulled away, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied. “As you know, I’m not going anywhere.”

And for once, Atreus found that he didn’t mind.

“Atty, are you listening?”

“Huh?”

Marina rolled her eyes. “I said lift it higher; the left side is crooked.”

“Oh, right.”

Atreus was practically sleepwalking. He didn’t sleep again after the nightmare woke him, making him sluggish on top of being distracted. He lifted the banner higher.

“Perfect. Nail it right there,” Marina instructed, and Atreus did as he was told. They were hanging the banner the three of them painted for the Bayallon sign-ups. Tonight, when the festival was in full swing, kids would flock to sign up for the race. Marina put a lot of time and effort into making sure the display was perfect. The least Atreus could do was pay attention.

“Good?” he called once the nail was in.

“You got it. Come down and help me with the rest.”

Atreus descended the ladder just as Nyel ran to join them, a stack of fliers in his arms.

“We have some left over. What should I do with them?” Nyel asked. Marina had sent him all over Baia Vita to hand out fliers to local businesses, reminding them of the Bayallon and encouraging kids to sign up.

“Start handing them out!” Marina clapped.

“Like, randomly?”

“Yep! Anyone and everyone needs to hear about this. This is gonna be the best Bayallon in years.” She pointed to a man sitting on a bench, reading the paper. “That guy right there, go get ‘em,” Marina said, shoving Nyel in his direction.

“I’m not sure that’s—” Atreus began.

“I’ll stay in town, promise,” Nyel said with a reassuring smile and took off.

The sireno had grown more confident in his time on the island, and Atreus wasn’t as nervous about letting him go off on his own. Still, he liked to keep Nyel close. He’d grown used to his company and?—

“He will leave you.

Like they all do in the end.”

“Nyel’s really good at this sorta thing, isn’t he?” Marina said.

“Huh?”

“Are you even awake? What’s up with you today?”

Atreus shook his head. “Nothing. Didn’t sleep.”

“Well, which is it?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

“Both. Neither. Anyways, what about Nyel?”

She eyed him but continued. “Well, look at him! He’s so excited. Honestly, I’m glad he’s around.”

They watched as Nyel approached person after person, giving them a flier. Every single one of them walked away with a flier and a smile.

“Yeah, he’s great.”

“Sounds like he’s sticking around too. He feels like he belongs here, you know? Like he was our hidden missing piece.”

“He does,” Atreus managed to say through the tightness in his throat.

“I wonder if he’s got anyone.”

Atreus’s neck stiffened so quickly it sent a sharp twang through his spine. “He has a girlfriend,” he blurted .

Marina turned to him, one eyebrow raised. “I meant I wonder if he’s got any family. He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Oh,” Atreus said, unable to look at her.

“And how do you know he has a girlfriend?”

“He’s mentioned something. I don’t remember exactly.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. He remembered Nyel mentioning his parents trying to set him up with a girl. But that didn’t explain why he jumped to tell Marina.

“Right. Well, anyway, I better get some chairs. Hopefully, I’ll be stuck at this booth for a while taking sign-ups.”

She skipped away, leaving him to watch Nyel go from stranger to stranger, looking more at home than Atreus ever had.

A jolt of clarity shook his chest as he finally pieced together the nameless feelings that paraded in his chest every time he thought of the sireno.

I don’t want him to go.