Page 139 of Storm and Sea

“Why are you wet?”

Marina burst into laughter. She must have looked like a lunatic, but at that moment, she couldn’t have cared less.

“Because one of your other conquests knows how to hold a grudge. She didn’t like that you danced with me during the last festival.”

“Oh—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble⁠—”

“And now that we’re on the topic,” Marina interrupted. “If you see me tomorrow night at the festival, stay the hell away from me. I’ve got enough to deal with without adding your jealous groupies to the list.”

His jaw clenched, and Marina was ready for him to argue. But he surprised her yet again. “I hear you. And I’ll respect your wishes.”

“Good. Hopefully, we never run into each other again,” she said, spinning and marching away, her fishy hair whipping her face.

“I hope you’re wrong, Marina.”

She hesitated and almost turned around.

Almost.

As she kicked off her boots by the pescheria doors, she couldn’t help but think, he remembered my name.

But she was done settling for scraps of affection. She had promised herself that the moment she returned to the island.

I deserve more than the crumbs.

Atreus 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.