Page 22 of Storm and Sea (Storm and Sea Saga #1)

A treus only let himself sleep when Nephi was gone. The other halfling left before sunrise, finally giving Atreus space to breathe. Nephi was a wildcard in Atreus’s routine world. But he supposed there was nothing routine about his world now. His predictable, safe life was gone.

The moment Atreus realized he couldn’t let Nyel go changed everything. His old fears paled in comparison to the reality of living without Nyel—the only being who truly knew what he was and chose to stay. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, every choice he made was rooted in that quiet, undeniable truth.

He watched the rise and fall of Nyel’s back as the sireno slept on the other side of the mattress. Nyel curled like a pup when he slept, taking up as little room as possible. If not for the occasional humming in his throat, Atreus might have forgotten he was there.

He’s sleeping so close to me.

Atreus sighed and buried his face into the springy mattress, eyes growing heavier to the familiar smell of smoke. How had this sireno infiltrated his defenses so easily? How had Nyel crept past all his walls, broken all his rules—and settled in his heart so deeply that Atreus was ready to risk everything for him?

“The person you were six months

ago wouldn’t have done it.”

Atreus hadn’t heard the slimy whisper in weeks. But once again, when his defenses were low, it resurged, clawing its way into his thoughts, demanding his attention.

“You’re an idiot. You’re throwing it all away.

Where will you go when you can’t go back?

Do you think Nyel will welcome you into his life?

With his family? What would his mother say?”

Atreus ignored the toxic mutterings but let his mind settle on the first part. It was true; six months ago, he’d never have made this choice.

It was odd. How could things change so fast?

How could a single person turn the ocean upside down?

Razor-sharp thorns cut into his calves. Black vines drug him through the soil, towards the pit that waited like an open mouth. Atreus screamed, his nails digging into the ground for purchase. Dirt coated his tongue as he struggled.

Rising all around him were the luminescent white flowers, their cold glow piercing his eyes. Their diamond-shaped petals seemed unnaturally angled, as though they were turned toward him. Watching. They witnessed his demise with an unfeeling gaze, their light offering no warmth, no refuge.

They could have helped. They should have helped. But they didn’t. Yet the petals only shimmered, indifferent, as the vines tightened their grip and dragged him closer to the waiting abyss.

“You didn’t save her!” Atreus shouted at them like a curse.

But delicate blooms didn’t respond. Didn’t move. They swayed with the lazy movement of the tide. Unfeeling.

The vines dug through his scales, penetrating muscle and scraping bone.

“You’re mine.”

“Let me go!”

“You’re nothing without me.

Nobody wants you.

Nobody ever will.

I am all you have, all you’ll ever have.

Stop fighting. Give in.”

“You aren’t real!” Atreus cried to the voice that echoed from the pit. The same voice that tormented him in his waking hours. The voice that took root in his mind when his father left. The voice that blinked with the unfeeling glow of nameless flowers.

“I am as real as you are.”

“Let me go!” Atreus’s fingernails tore as he clawed at the dirt.

“We are one and the same.”

“Atreus!”

Someone called to him, but the voice was muffled as though reverberating underwater.

“Wake up!

Atreus gasped and shot upright, nearly colliding with Nyel, who was bent over him, his face pale.

“Where is it?” Atreus shouted, heart in his throat and body ready to face the threat. He grabbed at his ankles.

“There is nothing here. You were having a nightmare,” Nyel said soothingly.

“No, it’s…” Atreus’s eyes darted around wildly, his heart pounding. It was here. It was right here. It…. Was …

As he blinked, his heart rate slowed. Clarity returned, along with a throbbing headache. He rubbed his temples.

“You were thrashing in your sleep.”

Atreus swallowed hard. The nightmares were getting worse—perhaps the fear of losing everything he cared about was finally sinking in. He wasn’t ready to let it go. Wasn’t ready to let Baia Vita fade to memory.

A tentative hand gripped his fingertips.

“You okay?” Nyel asked, and all at once, Atreus was.

This sireno’s touch was enough to steady the storm within him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. It was enough. Nyel was enough. Once again, Atreus remembered that risking it all had been his choice. A quiet reassurance settled inside him, knowing that if given the chance, he’d do it all again.

Even though it makes no goddamn sense.

Risking his life for one person? It was stupid. Yet he couldn’t make himself believe that. Not anymore. Something had shifted deep inside him. It was as if a part of him had awakened, unearthing feelings he didn’t fully understand—or perhaps didn’t want to. All he knew was that he wasn’t the same, and the uncertainty of it both gnawed at him as much as it strangely settled him.

“I know Marina said to meet her at the festival, but can we check and see if she is okay now?” Nyel asked tentatively, and Atreus was relieved to hear him say it.

He couldn’t spend another minute in this lighthouse, not knowing if he had a home to return to.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Atreus said. They had no possessions to gather, and after making sure the fire was completely smothered, they descended the winding stairs. Normally, Atreus relied on his masterful staging to ward off any curious humans, but given the circumstances, he took extra precautions. Only after he was sure the door’s jam would hold did he turn his back on the home he’d known for over a decade.

“Let’s do this,” he said on an exhale. Nyel nodded, looking just as uncertain as Atreus felt.

Removing his shirt, running onto the sand, and diving into the water was a relief he couldn’t quite explain. As he dipped his head beneath an oncoming wave, Atreus sank into the salt water, his fins flaring, relieved from the confines of human skin.

“No matter how much time I spend on land, this always feels right,” Nyel said beside him, black-tipped fins flared and jade scales sparkling.

“Yeah. Can take the Mer from the sea but can’t take the sea from the Mer.”

“Can take— what?” Nyel asked as they swam to Baia Vita, tails swishing in synchronized strokes.

“Nevermind. Human expression.”

“Do you think she will see us differently?”

“I don’t see how she couldn’t. We aren’t human.”

The reality of that grew all the clearer as they approached the bay, dodging fishing boats and nets. There were hardly any fish to catch, and as they passed a net, Atreus tried to herd a few straggling mackerel into its clutches. It was better than nothing. The fact of the matter was that the fish were taken long before reaching the safety of the bay.

Under the water, even this far away, Atreus listened to the steady thrum of massive engines. He couldn’t fathom how something so large and made of metal could float, but it did. And it consumed everything in its path.

It was an insatiable maw.

The fact of the matter was this —the smaller fishing boats of Baia Vita couldn’t compete with the power of those ships.

They dried in a hidden alcove between dark rocks, where Atreus slipped on his shirt before stepping onto the open sand. The square was lively with movement, families preparing booths, and city volunteers stringing lights for the night’s dancing. Tonight would kick start the celebrations, with the Bayallon taking place the following morning. The streets were abuzz with energy, and upbeat chatter filled the air. There were no screams, no fear, no worries that monsters walked among them.

She didn’t say anything.

Even so, he put himself between Nyel and anyone who walked too close. The last time he’d been this wary walking through his home, he was a starving kid. He hoped he’d never have to relive those days as they opened the pescheria doors.

Giovanni was hard at work, preparing food at the counter.

“There you are, ragazzo ! I hope your family is well,” he asked sympathetically.

At Nyel’s confused expression, Atreus cut in. “They’re great. Sorry for leaving the day before everything.”

“It’s no problem. Family comes first, yes?”

Atreus agreed, and he and Nyel shuffled up the stairs.

Marina sat at the kitchen table, stringing together paper flowers in a long rope for the kids to break through at the finish line. She stopped as they approached. Once again, Atreus put himself before Nyel. The sireno was the one she witnessed fully transformed. He might be the one she was wary of now. Atreus needed to reassure Marina, to make her feel safe, and remind her they were still the same—that he would never hurt her. But as her hazel eyes pierced through him, all he could muster was a weak, “Hey.”

“Hey,” she mimicked, then waved to Nyel. “Hey, Nyel. I’m glad you came.”

Nyel waved back but stayed a few paces away.

Marina groaned, dragging her fingers through messy hair, shaking it into an even messier nest of curls .

“Aaah, just come sit down! Jeez, I’m not going to batter and fry you like the fish downstairs.”

Atreus laughed even as she cringed.

“Oh good, you thought that was funny. I worried maybe it was too soon.”

“I’m not a fish, but the joke landed anyway,” he said, taking a chair and ushering Nyel to do the same.

“I’m sorry I made you guys wait so long. To be fair, I had no idea where you went. And I was— am , so flippin’ mad at you.”

Atreus blinked. “Mad? Not— not scared?”

“Well, I was scared at first, but when you explained things, I stopped being scared. I was— am , mad. And hurt.” She stopped her sewing, staring at the needle in her hand. “You could have trusted me, Atty.”

Guilt settled in his stomach, but so did something else. It was warm, and he never wanted to let it go. He cared for this red-headed girl so much.

“I’m sorry. I am. I hope you understand why I did it.”

“Yeah. I do. Doesn’t make it suck any less.”

“I should have trusted you.”

“Yeah. You should have. But I’ll get over it.” Marina’s gaze locked on Nyel, who hadn’t said a word thus far. “I’m sorry, Nyel.”

Nyel blanched, obviously as surprised as Atreus was.

“Sorry for what? We’re the ones that lied to you.”

She waved him off. “I get it; this is a fishing town, after all. But I had no right to treat you like a monster. That was mean.”

“Apology accepted,” Nyel said, and Atreus smiled at the way he held back relieved tears.

“What do you like to be called? Just between us, of course. I promise not to say a word to anyone, even Papà .”

Atreus let out a long breath. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure if you?— ”

“—If I what? Would tell? Seriously? Atty, do you even know me? Jeez. Give me some credit.” She threw a paper flower at him.

“Sorry,” he said for the millionth time that day, catching the delicate petals. “Uh. We call ourselves Mer. Just Mer is fine.”

“Got it. Mer it is. But more importantly”—she smiled at them both, and the warmth was enough to drive away all the residual fear in Atreus’s chest—“it’s Atty and Nyel. That’s all that matters.”

The tension in the air cleared like a gust of wind.

“Thank you,” Atreus said.

“Alrighty, no more pouty faces. Stand up so I can hug you both.”

They reluctantly stood, allowing Marina’s short stature to pull them into an embrace, one arm slung around each of their necks. She held them for a few extra seconds, composing herself. When she released them, there were no tears, but she blinked rapidly.

“There. Now that’s out of the way, Nyel, can you help me with these? And Atty, I’m pretty sure Papà has his hands full downstairs with the fry.”

“You got it.”

“And try not to fry yourself while you’re down there.”

Atreus rolled his eyes as he listened to Nyel and Marina laugh.

The moment Giovanni caught sight of him, his posture relaxed. “Oh, good. It appears you have made amends,” he said. “Marina came home so upset last night.”

“Um… yeah, we talked it out. It’s going to be okay.”

“I knew it would, but men get sentimental around my age. I worry for my children.”

“Nothing gets past you,” Atreus said with a shrug, ever impressed with Giovanni’s silent perception.

Children?

“I might be old, but I’m sharper than this knife,” he said, handing it to Atreus with a flourish.

Atreus scaled the fish with the curved blade. Giovanni had said children, though surely he meant Marina? Only Marina. Yet the way he said it gave Atreus hope he hadn’t dared allow himself.

Stop it. I’m treading dangerous waters as it is.

He’d barely managed to keep this fragile relationship with the humans through what should have been a devastating accident. He had no right to hope for anything more.

“You don’t deserve it.”

Atreus didn’t argue. He knew it was true.

They worked in comfortable silence, Giovanni humming along with whatever opera played on the ancient record player. Occasionally, it skipped and stuttered before resuming its serenade. Atreus didn’t care for opera but couldn’t deny there was an odd comfort in its monotonous chanting—or at least, that’s what it sounded like to him.

The bell rang, and Atreus called out, not turning from his task, “Sorry, we are closed for today. Preparing for tonight.”

When no receding footsteps sounded, he turned and was confronted with the most hated face in Baia Vita. Sensing the tension, Giovanni appeared from behind the shelves and stepped forward.

“We are closed today, Signore Vincenzo. Our food stall will be open tonight at the festival.”

Alvise Vincenzo ignored him, eyes glancing around the old room, taking in all the worn and cracked surfaces. Atreus had to resist the hiss in his chest as Alvise wrinkled his nose at a particularly stained section of the floor.

“Trust me, I take no pleasure in being in this—shop,” he finished, as though barely holding back a more offensive word.

“What can we do for you?” Giovanni inquired, ever polite.

“I’m here to deliver these. ”

Alvise thrust a rolled-up stack of papers at him, making another disgusted expression at the way Giovanni wiped his hands on his apron first.

Atreus glared at the intruder. This was the man hurting his home. Though he and Alvise had no personal history, the Vincenzo empire was buying all the shops, replacing them with soulless chain stores. They drove down prices to the point that local store owners couldn’t compete. And worse yet, they owned the fishing organization ruling this part of the Pacific.

They own the ships that are slowly letting us starve.

All this raced through Atreus’s mind as Giovanni read the paper. His expression remained steady as he scanned each line, but Atreus caught the subtle twitch of his mustache.

“I understand,” Giovanni said, tucking the paper in the back of his pants. “I’ll have the payments ready for you at the end of the week.”

“Excellent,” Alvise smiled. “I trust you know what actions I will take if you fail to meet those payments. I count every cent.”

Giovanni nodded. “Your notice made that quite clear.”

“What payments?” Atreus asked, frustrated he couldn’t read the document himself. “What are you talking about? You own this store.”

“But he no longer owns the land it sits on. That title belongs to me,” Alvise said with so much mirth Atreus barely resisted the urge to jump the counter and hit him.

“How much are the payments?”

“We will make it work,” Giovanni said, though there was no conviction in his words.

“I trust you will. I don’t want to make another trip to this part of town. The smell alone is enough to make me gag,” Alvise finished.

“If you don’t like it, you can get the hell out,” Atreus growled before he could stop himself .

Alvise stopped mid-turn, eyes lighting up at the resistance. “Is that what you think?”

“You don’t want to know what I think,” Atreus hissed through gritted teeth.

“Oh, but I do.”

A heavy hand rested on his shoulder. “Atreus,” Giovanni cautioned.

“Let the mongrel speak; I’m curious what a worthless stray has to say.”

“What the hell did you just call me?” Atreus’s voice dropped, low and sharp with warning.

“I called you exactly what you are: a stray with no home, no name, no pedigree.” Alvise’s smirk was venomous. “I know everything about everyone on this island, and you? You’re a nobody.”

Before the words had even fully landed, Atreus moved. He vaulted over the counter in one fluid motion, his face dangerously close to Alvise’s before he even registered what he’d done. His breath was hot, chest heaving as fury coursed through his veins like the venom of a lionfish.

Alvise didn’t flinch. Not an inch. He stood his ground, his expression one of cold, calculated disdain.

“Try it, filth,” Alvise whispered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. His voice was a taunt, a dare edged with anticipation, like he was aching for Atreus to take the bait. “Give me a reason.”

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the threat of violence. Atreus’s fists clenched at his sides.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Atreus growled, his words more animal than man.

“And you don’t know who I am,” Alvise shot back, his eyes glinting like the hooked tip of a lance, poised for the perfect moment to strike .

“Atreus,” Giovanni barked a warning. He’d never raised his voice like that, and it deflated Atreus instantly.

Shit.

“A well-trained stray, so it seems.” Alvise tipped his chin up to Atreus’s ear, his breath oddly cold. “I own this island, mongrel. And one day, I’ll rid it of filth like you.”

With shaking restraint, Atreus watched the heir to the Vincenzo empire saunter out of the pescheria without a backward glance.

“Atreus,” Giovanni said for the third time, but there was softness now.

“I know. I messed up.” Atreus shook his head, his fists clenched. He wanted to hit something.

“You assume too much, Atreus. I was going to say how proud I am of you.”

Atreus whipped around. “What?”

“It takes a strong man to resist his anger. At your age, I would have flattened him to the floor. You did well.”

The juxtaposition of anger and the new swell of emotion left Atreus light-headed.

He’s proud of me?

“I’m going to take a walk if that’s okay. I’ll be back to help.”

“That’s a good idea. Go wade in the sea. It always brings peace to my soul.” His mustache twisted in a rare smile.

Minutes later, Atreus kicked off his shoes and dove into the surf. Marvassa embraced him like a mother might a babe, and he changed. He needed to move, to swim, to ease the anger in his chest.

A single phrase played on repeat in his head as he swam until his gills ached with strain.

“A stray with no home, no name, no pedigree—you are a nobody.”

Nyel’s body felt like it was made of overcooked spaghetti as he sagged with relief. Relief that Marina didn’t hate him. That his life on the island wasn’t over. And more importantly—Atreus wouldn’t be forced to leave.

I didn’t ruin his life.

Nyel worked alongside Marina for most of the morning and afternoon. They folded paper flowers and strung them into a makeshift finish line for the kids the following day. He wasn’t as crafty as Marina, and his hands were nowhere as steady as Atreus’s, but he managed.

When Marina began to hum an incredibly out-of-tune melody, Nyel asked for the name of the song just to get her talking.

“Oh, just a lullaby Mamma used to sing to me.”

Nyel paused at this. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about her,” he probed, hoping he wasn’t entering sensitive territory, but the look on Marina’s face only confirmed his suspicions.

“Yeah. She was… Mamma had…” Marina chewed on the sentence for a moment, her hands pausing in their task. “Mamma had a big heart.”

Nyel continued folding the flowers, listening carefully.

“Her heart was so big she tried to fit the entire world inside. And I think, to some extent, she succeeded. Her paintings changed the world. They touched so many people. She was truly an incredible artist.”

There was definitely a ‘but,’ and Nyel waited for it, afraid that if he interrupted, Marina would stop. And when it came, her voice trembled.

“But with the whole world in her heart, sometimes I think she forgot about little old me.”

“And… your dad?”

“Didn’t know I existed until I was nine years old,” Marina stated matter-of-factly. “Mamma was pregnant when she left Baia Vita. Off to the big city to chase her dreams, and Papá couldn’t follow her. And I’m glad he didn’t. The city would have crushed him.”

“So your mom never told him?”

Marina shook her head. “ Papá didn’t know about me until she sent him a letter. She willed everything to me and made me promise to go to school. She died after that.” Nyel reached across the table and squeezed Marina’s hand. She sniffed loudly, blinking hard. “Jeez, I’m done with crying! Caspita, it feels like that’s all I’ve been doing the past two days. My emotions are all over the place.”

“That’s partially my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re here now. That’s what matters. Now shut up and fold faster.”

Nyel smiled and set to work. This time, he didn’t interrupt her tone-deaf humming.

A few hours later, the wafting smell of fried foods met them through the open window. Nyel’s stomach growled.

“You can go if you want. I’ll finish up; there isn’t much left,” Marina said, threading another needle.

“Are you sure?” But he was already standing. He’d been looking forward to another festival all season.

“Yeah, go. I’ll be at the stand with Papà later tonight.”

He said goodbye and hurried downstairs, eager to catch up with Atreus so they could enjoy the festivities together. But when he descended the stairs, the pescheria was empty. Assuming Atreus had already gone outside, Nyel left the building and waved to Horace, who sat in his rocking chair with Niccolo purring on his lap, soaking in the ambiance.

And what an ambiance it was.

The square was even more decorated than last time. The city volunteers sensed the community’s dismay over the harsh season and put in extra effort for tonight.

Strings of lights hung between the buildings, off balconies, and around signposts. Everything pulsed with energy. Potted marigolds lined the dancing square, their yellow blooms catching the light and sparkling as if dusted with glitter.

Every stall was lit up with its own arrangements of shapes and colors. That was where he found Atreus, stringing blue bulbs above the pescheria’s stall of fried fish and squid on a stick.

Nyel snuck up behind him, a devious smile creeping up his cheeks. When Atreus’s arms were raised to string more lights, he pounced, pinching either side of his waist. Atreus yelled, jumping and dropping the lights.

Nyel erupted in a fit of laughter, falling to his knees at Atreus’s incredulous expression.

“It wasn’t that funny.”

“You sounded like Niccolo in the bath!” Nyel hollered.

“I’m warning you, Ny,” Atreus said, shaking his head, “I don’t get angry. I get even.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Nyel bumped his hip into Atreus’s and helped him fasten the string of lights. “Are you done? Can we go?” he begged, practically vibrating with excitement.

“You didn’t have to wait for me. You could have gone.”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun with you,” Nyel said, then paused at the way Atreus averted his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s go, wanna play Bocce again? I never got my rematch. ”

“Oh, it’s on.” Nyel bristled with the challenge.

They played three games of Bocce . Nyel won the first one and Atreus the next two.

“Okay, okay, you win. There, you got me back,” Nyel said in defeat, gathering the balls and placing them in the basket for the next player.

“That wasn’t payback for earlier. Don’t worry, that’s still coming.”

“I’m shaking in my boots,” Nyel said with an eye roll.

Atreus bent low, and Nyel felt the warmth of his breath ghosting against his ear.

“You should be.”

Nyel fought to keep his body still, resisting the urge to visibly shiver.

“L—let’s go see what’s going on over there,” Nyel said, face growing hot as he touched the shell of his ear.

Music echoed from the square, and the crowd jumped into action as though they’d been waiting for the melody all night.

“Come on! Just like we practiced,” Nyel shouted over the volume, grabbing Atreus by the wrist and dragging him to the circle of flowers and glittering lights. He did his best to shake off the heavy thumping in his chest.

The music was jovial, the local troupe pulling out all the stops. An instrument Nyel had never seen before—its center expanding and contracting like the bellows used to stoke a fire—took the lead, its lively, wheezing notes sending the dancing crowd into a frenzy.

They shuffled into the throng and faced one another. Atreus didn’t resist; rather, he clasped their hands together and slid the other below Nyel’s rib cage. Nyel sucked in a sharp breath.

“You ready?” Atreus asked.

Nyel only managed a nod as the heat of Atreus’s touch melted into his skin .

When the next chorus of bouncing notes took off, so did they. Their practice paid off as they seamlessly blended with the bustle of dancers. They spun, swung, and jumped with the music, and Nyel’s body came alive. His heart raced, the smell of sugar and sweat filled the air. The melody of the music threatened to abduct him to new heights.

The final trill of the violin vibrated through the air, signaling the end of the number. Nyel gave one last spin and, with legs wobbly from exertion, half-fell into Atreus’s chest. He laughed, lungs heaving for breath as he looked into his dance partner’s eyes.

“We killed it out there,” he panted, relieved to feel Atreus also short of breath. His ribs expanded beneath Nyel’s touch, heart hammering.

“You were great,” Atreus complimented, his abalone eyes glittering more than usual.

The string of lights around them dimmed, the music took on a delicate slowness, and the mood shifted. The panting crowd slowed into an adagio . The gentle melody floated through the air, mixing with the whispering summer breeze. Each note lingered, caressing the dancers with unhurried grace.

Nyel expected Atreus to lead him away but was surprised with an extended hand instead.

“Can I have another?”

Nyel didn’t have to think before accepting his hand, letting himself be pulled close until all that separated them was a breath. They swayed in a tender rhythm, hands entwined. Nyel was acutely aware of the heat radiating from Atreus’s palm as he guided him by the waist. Nyel fought the urge to let his fingers slide from Atreus’s shoulder to the bare skin of his neck. He’d once heard Marina call Atreus’s freckles ‘angel kisses.’ Nyel preferred to think of them as tiny constellations, like a map of stars scattered across his skin. He wondered where they led .

When Nyel lifted his gaze, he found Atreus already looking at him. Thunder thudded against his ribs.

Steady, my heart.

Nyel drew in a deep breath, letting the wild scent of storm fill his lungs. A blend of the untamed sky and something uniquely…him.

Another thud in his chest.

Steady.

When the music was fast and loud, Atreus extended his arms wide, maneuvering Nyel in a series of turns and spins. Anything to keep from touching him more than necessary. But now, with the music doing something stupid to his head, Atreus couldn’t resist pulling Nyel close. The hand on the sireno’s waist squeezed fractionally tighter despite his resistance, and when Atreus heard Nyel’s little intake of breath, his own breathing stopped entirely.

What am I doing?

He tried uselessly to shoo away the fluttering butterfly wings in his head. His body didn’t feel like his own; it was leading him somewhere unknown, and it was all he could do to keep from running away. These feelings were unfamiliar. And if they weren’t stampeding through his body, Atreus would have denied they existed at all.

It only grew worse when Nyel’s head lifted, and the golden flecks in his honey-brown eyes shone like stars on the surface of a still sea. Something in Atreus stirred then; some creature he didn’t know lived beneath his skin. But it was there now, and it was wide awake.

“Th-this is nice,” Nyel stuttered, his voice barely audible over the faint hum of music and laughter from the festival around them. His face flushed, the glow of the hanging lanterns kissing his skin.

Atreus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He focused on anything else—the rustling leaves overhead, the distant murmur of the waves lapping against the shore, even the warmth of Nyel’s hand in his. But no matter where he tried to anchor his thoughts, his attention kept drifting back to the man in front of him. How close he was. How Atreus wanted him closer. Wanted to keep him there.

“I-I mean,” Nyel glanced away, looking at their joined hands as if noticing them for the first time. “It’s… really nice,” he finished softly, his voice carrying an edge of vulnerability that made something in Atreus tighten.

Atreus’s breath hitched. He wasn’t sure if it was the music fading, the laughter in the distance, or Nyel’s shy smile that made his chest feel like it was made of glass. But it was all too transparent. Too brittle.

Mercifully, the music stopped, the last note hovering in the air with painful softness. And just like that, the spell was broken, and Atreus realized how close they were. He jumped back too fast, and his heart sank at the hurt look on Nyel’s face.

“W-wanna to get some food?” he offered just to escape the dancing.

“Sure, food sounds good.”

They’d hardly made it ten steps when a friendly fist punched his arm.

“Hey, Gatto ,” Leo said, his voice charming as ever.

Atreus turned, expecting to see Leo’s famous, swooning smile. Instead, he recoiled.

Leo was haggard beyond recognition. The bags under his eyes were heavy, and his skin had none of its sunkissed glow. His cheeks were more hollow than Atreus had ever seen, and there was a tightness to his smile.

“Hey, Leo,” Atreus said, unable to hide his concern. “How are you?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an honest answer.

“Same old, same old,” Leo replied brightly. “You two looked good there,” he said, nodding to the dancers.

“Yeah, we practiced,” Atreus said, though what he really wanted to do was ask Leo what was going on. He’d been so wrapped up in work that they rarely saw each other anymore, exchanging only brief words as Atreus restocked his boat with chum before Leo was off again. How had Atreus not noticed his decline? Was the new boat not catching enough to make ends meet?

“Hey man, what’s going on—” But he was cut off as Leo spoke over him.

“I have to say, though, you were getting some looks on that last one.”

“Looks?” Nyel asked.

“More than a few.”

“Why?”

“That last number is a pretty famous song around here. Very, uh, for couples.”

At the word ‘couple,’ Atreus’s attention snapped away from Leo’s concerning appearance to what he was saying.

“Is that a problem?” Atreus asked, more curious than accusing.

Leo shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “Maybe not in big cities on the mainland, but around here, it won’t go over well.”

Atreus still didn’t understand what Leo was saying, though surprisingly, Nyel had.

“I get it. My mother would have called it ‘Unbonded’ behavior,” he said with an eye-roll.

There is that word again. What the hell is this Bond ?

But before Atreus had a chance to ask, a smaller voice whined from beside Leo.

“Can we go see Marina now?”

Atreus hadn’t even noticed the tuft of blond curls. One of Leo’s younger brothers pushed at his side impatiently.

“She’s right over there, Edgar; go ask.”

“But—” Edgar hesitated, an embarrassed flush creeping to his cheeks.

“If you want to race with the big kids, you have to be a big kid and ask by yourself,” Leo encouraged.

“Marina is really nice; you don’t have to worry,” Nyel reassured.

“I know that,” Edgar said but only looked more horrified.

“Here,” Atreus said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a strawberry fruit tart. He remembered the seller since Marina liked the last one so much and decided to buy her another. “Give her this. Tell her it’s from?—”

“Atty!” Nyel interrupted. “Tell her it’s from Atty.”

“You got this, big man. Deep breaths. Go get ‘em,” Leo said, giving Edgar a small shove. With a determined nod, Edgar walked to the pescheria’s stall.

Atreus glared at Nyel. “You suck so much.”

Nyel laughed, knowing how much the nickname irritated Atreus.

“Why does he need to talk to her anyway?” Atreus asked while simultaneously flicking Nyel in the ear.

“He wants to race with the big kids. He’s only a few months away from turning twelve,” Leo said, and even in his ragged state, Atreus didn’t miss the fondness in his voice.

“He probably won’t win. Since he’ll be the youngest,” Atreus pointed out.

“Edgar knows that. He just wants to race on the bigger course. He’s been practicing all summer. And he’s been putting off asking for over a week now. I think he has a little crush on the red-headed- wonder. He’s at that age where girls are interesting but all the more terrifying.”

“That’s adorable,” Nyel said, rubbing his sore ear.

A panicked voice called out, echoing from the direction of the beach.

“Atreus!” A weathered man streaked with oil and what looked like fresh burns on his hands jogged beside him. “Forgive me, Atreus, but I don’t know what to do. My boat, Fortuna , I don’t know what happened. I’ve tried everything.”

The man looked ready to collapse with stress.

“It’s okay. Let’s not panic. Let me see what I can do,” Atreus said, forcing confidence into his voice. He turned to them. “I’ll meet you guys later, alright?”

And without hesitation, he raced to the docks, prepared to save this man’s livelihood.

Leo tried. He really did try not to let the sour taste in his mouth ruin his mood. Yet watching the inches between Atreus and Nyel slip away as the music slowed and the lights dimmed left him feeling sick.

He ran his fingers through his curls, trying to get them to stay in place like Atreus’s. But as always, the stubborn strands behind his ears refused to submit and stuck out awkwardly.

“Leo, can we go?” Edgar whined .

“Just a minute,” he said, patting his brother on the head without tearing his attention away from the pair.

Two men can’t be doing things like that. Not in public, anyway. Who the hell do they think they are?

Bitterness coated Leo’s tongue at their thoughtlessness. How many times had he suppressed himself, hidden who he was? How many times had he longed to express how he felt about other men? Yet the socially imposed rules he lived by had always held him back.

But tonight was different. Tonight, he was taking a break from the shit-show that was his life. He didn’t have time to care what Baia Vita thought of him—because right now, he was already less than the dirt under their boots.

Alvise had made sure of that.

So why not indulge his bleeding heart? What more did he have to lose? His dignity. His pride. His sense of security was all gone. Stolen and placed firmly in Alvise’s pocket. Was it so wrong of him to want a sliver of happiness to soothe the hurt?

When Atreus and Nyel finally finished, it was harder than usual for him to put on his charming act. He managed to keep the bite out of his voice only by biting his tongue. A seasoned fisherman Leo recognized limped to them with blisters on his palms, begging for assistance. Given the amount of oil on the man’s shirt, Leo could guess Atreus would be occupied for some time.

It was now or never.

“Hey, Nyel, can I borrow for you a bit?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Somewhere private?” he coaxed, his heart rate increasing with each breath.

“Is it okay to leave your brother?” Nyel asked.

“He’s fine; he’ll find a friend in a minute.”

Convinced, Nyel followed Leo to a private part of the square. The festivities were still in full view, though the music was diluted to a pleasant hum.

“Hey, Leofel, is everything okay?”

“We’re not talking about that,” Leo snapped, hating himself when Nyel flinched. “I mean, that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

“Okay.”

“What I want to say is, well, I’ve wanted to say it since we became friends, and I know now isn’t the best time. I’ve got a lot going on, and you have a lot, and the season is almost over and…”

And I am blowing this!

Leo couldn’t get himself to shut up, dancing around the words he wanted to say but never actually reaching them.

I really like you. I think you’re kind and gentle and gorgeous.

The words echoed in his head, and as Leo stared into Nyel’s concerned eyes, all at once…he knew he’d never say them.

Not now.

Not with a cord wrapped around his neck. If Leo dragged Nyel into this, pulling him closer to the master who held his chain, this beautiful boy might end up tangled in the links. The revelation hit him so powerfully that he hated himself for not realizing it sooner. Leo forced back the prickle in his eyes before plastering on a smile.

I’m an idiot to think this could ever happen.

“Sorry, I was rambling. I wanted to say that I’d like all of us to have a day together before the end of the season. On the beach.” He chewed his lip and added, “You know, me, you, Gatto , and Marina if she wants.”

Nyel’s eyes narrowed, likely suspecting Leo wasn’t telling the whole truth. “I’d love that, Leofeol,” he finally said, with a kindness that nearly broke Leo in two.

I want to kiss him. I want to know how it feels.

Leo knew Nyel’s lips would be as soft and gentle as the words he spoke. He knew one kiss could soothe the ache inside him, take the biting edge off his pain, and make him feel—something. Something beyond the constant fear and dread and anger that plagued his every waking thought. The need for relief pressed on him so hard it nearly brought him to his knees. And he knew this beautiful person standing before him could give him that.

Just one kiss.

But Leo forced his spine to remain rigid, shoving down the overwhelming pull to close the distance between them. He cleared his throat roughly.

“It’s a plan then. Better get back to Edgar.”

And like a kicked dog, Leo hurriedly walked away from Nyel. The moment he turned the corner, he broke into a sprint. He ran from the festival. Ran from the light and the music. The smells and feelings of safety. All a farce. All lies.

Not for me.

He ran to the last place where his world was still his own.

He ran to the beach.

Leo needed to fall apart.

And he didn’t want anyone to watch.