Page 178 of Storm and Sea

If Nephi went looking for her, he’d be sealing her fate.

Best to leave it alone.

She’s better off not knowing what I’ve become.

Nephi hissed as the cigarette butt burned his fingertips. He’d forgotten he was even holding it. With a curse, he dropped it to the ground and kicked it away.

The situation on the beach was spiraling. Now, Sireni were emerging from the water in droves, greeting their human neighbors.

This island is a sinking ship, pretending there’s nothing wrong with its rotting hull.

And Nephi wasn’t about to stick around and get caught in the fallout. He stalked away from the beach, hood pulled tight around his face. There was no point in delaying any longer. It was time to leave Baia Vita. For good this time.

His argument with Nyel replayed on a loop in his mind.

“Why are you still here?”

For every wrong reason he could think of. And he was done letting old wounds control him. He would put an end to this and disappear.

“I’m sorry, little brother, but you’re better off without me. I’ll only be a weight on this sinking ship.”

Nephi was built for fighting, not for Kumbaya and alliances. He’d rejoin his Pod. He’d fight. And he’d die—as he should have in the blast that took Ludo.

Took him away from me.

There was only one thing left to do.

Nephi made himself comfortable on the secluded beach, trying to ignore what he knew was taking place on the other side of the island. Humans and Mer coming together to vanquish a common enemy. How fucking poetic.

He didn’t have to wait long before a pair of feet crossed the sand and took a seat beside him.

“Knew you’d show up eventually,” he said without looking the newcomer’s way. “What took you so long⁠—”

The scent of iron and salt and something sour met his nose. It was sour, like spoiled milk. It was acidic in all the wrong ways. It was the residual scent of fear.

Leo’s face bore the marks of a brutal beating, swollen and bruised, with a cut above his brow that still oozed blood. His yellow irises stared lifelessly ahead. His shoulders slumped forward as if the act of sitting straight was too much. Every inch of him radiated a haunting emptiness, a hollow shell of the person he once was.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me I look like shit?”

Leo’s voice was hoarse. Ruined. Like he’d screamed until his vocal cords frayed and bled. Nephi wanted to comply, to fall into their rehearsed back and forth, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“You look good.”

“Liar,” Leo said with a joyless laugh. “And you have your damn hood up again.”

“Would you rather I take it off?”

“I like to see who I’m talking to.”

Nephi unzipped the jacket, tossing it to the side, leaving him bare-chested and exposed.

“You look good,” Leo offered.

“Liar,” Nephi said with a wicked grin.

The wound on Leo’s face was still bleeding. Fresh.

The insane urge to reach out clawed at Nephi so strongly that he dug his nails into his palms to stop himself.