Page 18 of Storm and Sea

Nyel rolled his eyes. “Of course, they’re green—mine and every Sireni in the ocean. Good job,” he mocked.

Atreus ignored his jab. “No. Not like the others. You’re unique; it’s—” He tilted his head, examining. “It’s like jade.”

“Yeah, I’m weird. My mom and aunt have it, too. So what?” A rush of heat flooded Nyel’s face.

For a moment, Atreus looked like he wanted to say more but shook himself. “Never mind. Hold still.”

Despite his sharp words and abrasive attitude, there was a surprising gentleness in the way those large hands touched him. Careful and precise. Atreus dressed Nyel’s wound with a clear, syrup-like liquid before wrapping it in clean white cloth. He pinned the end of the wrap closed with a metal clamp and inspected his work.

“Keep it dry for a few days.”

His voice lost its bitter edge, and he still held Nyel’s foot in his lap, staring at it as if the green scales might spontaneously return.

“Kind of hard to do in the ocean.”

At this, Atreus lifted his head, and with him kneeling so close, Nyel got a clearer look at his features. His curls fell low, covering most of his forehead. His nose was wide-set, in proportion with his defined square jaw. A light dusting of freckles bridged over his nose, growing darker as they dotted down his neck and shoulders. But what made Nyel’s gaze stick like barnacles on a rock were those eyes. Beneath thick brows were eyes unlike anything Nyel had ever seen. All Sireni had the same colored eyes: Brown. Boring. Bland.

But these eyes…

They shimmered like nacre, or the inner lining of abalone shells—but with an unsettlingly hypnotic green hue. Even the kelp in its most ripe state couldn’t hope to compare to the vibrant color looking back at him now. Streaks of deep sea green and hints of turquoise danced across the surface, mixing and morphing, casting a subtle iridescent glow. As the firelight shifted, the colors transformed, undulating with a pearlescent sheen, like liquid glass in motion.

“You can stay,” Atreus said, snapping him from his daze.

“Wait— what?” Nyel blinked rapidly and straightened. He hadn’t realized he’d leaned in so close.

“Wait until the wound closes, then go. Before you leave, jam the front door closed with a stone.”

“What about you?” Nyel asked because it sounded like Atreus was going to leave him alone in this tower.

“I have somewhere to be,” Atreus said, finally releasing his leg and standing. He ran a hand through his tight curls, a motion Nyel suspected he did a lot.

“Where?”

“Nowhere,” he said too quickly, and Nyel didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to the window. Then it clicked—why he’d never seen Atreus before, why Atreus was so familiar with human artifacts.

“You’re going to the human town, aren’t you?” Nyel knew he was right when Atreus’s defined jaw set. “That’s where you go, isn’t it? Why, I’ve never seen you around before.”

“You don’t see me around because it’s been made very clear that I’m not wanted,” Atreus bit out.

Nyel recoiled. He had no idea what that could possibly mean.

Atreus made a frustrated sound like he regretted saying so much. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter at this point; I’ve done well enough on my own. Tomorrow, I’m leaving. I’m going back to my life, and you’re going back to yours. End of story.”

Nyel sat frozen, his mind reeling.

Atreus waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello?” he called in irritation, but Nyel’s gaze remained distant. He was caught in a whirlpool of thoughts and revelations.

Somehow, somewhere on human sands, Atreus had a life. A life outside of farming kelp or herding schools of goatfish. A life outside of arranged dinners with potential Bond mates. A life free from expectations and living exactly as his parents did—as his grandparents and great-grandparents. The same ebb and flow of farming, mating, and raising the next generation, only for the cycle to start again.

Yet Atreus didn’t fit that mold. His life was made up of something else entirely. Nyel didn’t know that was even possible. His chest tightened as a sickening thought took hold—Nyel knew so little of the world beyond the one he was raised in.

But here was proof that a different life existed. There was another way to experience the world. And now that Nyel knew it was there, he couldn’t go back to the way things were—back to the sheltered community where he never belonged.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” Atreus snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“Take me with you,” Nyel blurted.

Atreus huffed a laugh. “Absolutely not. It’s a human town,” he said, putting emphasis on the word. “It’s too dangerous.”