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“Is it really true that humans have only explored about twenty percent of the ocean?” I ask her.

“Twenty percent is generous,” she says, and almost smiles. “The ocean tolerates your instruments near the surface. What lies beneath belongs to us, and it simply does not want witnesses.”

I could listen to her all day. By the time she gets to a sea creature her pod has no name for, I’m watching Sirena instead of the path. She even moves like water. My steps have slowed to match hers. I catch myself leaning toward her with no idea how long I’ve been doing it.

She has me hanging on every word, and that has no business happening. My wolf keeps pressing until I remember what’s walking next to me. Sirena’s black eyes haven’t stopped moving since the border. Get it together, Aya. I pick up the pace.

“The orcas.” I need her answering questions instead of telling stories. “You said they fight alongside you. How does that actually work?”

Sirena cuts her eyes at me. She knows exactly what I’m doing, but she still explains. When they move together in contested waters, the orcas guard the surface and the Mer take the deep. Nothing gets past them. My wolf likes this part a lot better than the trench stories.

I don’t notice we’ve made it to the Academy until the main building is in front of us.

“My people have dreamed of a community like this,” Sirena admits. She takes in the castle and the wings that branch off it for every species. The gaming fields and the pool are visible from here. I quit seeing this place years ago. Today I give her all the time she wants to soak it in.

“Where is your father?” I ask. “I thought he was coming with you.”

She turns from the buildings. “He needs more convincing. He speaks with King Amir from the water.”

I start toward the main doors. “Then let’s continue⁠—”

I catch a scent I’ve known since I was a pup and stop walking. It has never meant anything good for me. I ball my hands into fists at my sides.

Charity and her friends are strutting across the grounds toward the Witches & Warlocks Wing. They probably think they own it. She’s wearing a fitted blazer over a silk top with her hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail. Her girls are as polished as she is. They still flank her in their old formation, only taller now.

She sees me at the same moment I see her, but it’s Sirena she sizes up first. She checks out the gown and the gills and does the math. By the time she turns back to me, she’s all sugar.

“Aya.” She sings my name like we’re friends. “I didn’t realize you were giving tours now. Is Ezra tied up with real clan business? It’s so sweet that he sends you.”

Years of practice, and she still knows where to aim. My canines ache. Ezra didn’t send me anywhere. He doesn’t even know I’m gone. Her friends snicker behind their hands.

“Good seeing you,” Charity calls over her shoulder. She heads off with them and doesn’t look back.

I hold my tongue until they’re out of earshot. My wolf wants to go after the witch and make her sorry she ever opened her mouth. I press my wolf down hard. I’m supposed to be selling Sirena on Wintermoon. Instead of handing Charity the satisfaction of watching me crack in front of the Mer, I smile.

Sirena stares after them with her gills working fast. “That one meant to wound you. I do not understand why it would be wrapped in pleasantness. Where I am from, you answer it directly.”

I picture Sirena chasing Charity down with her sharp teeth. “Please don’t—” I blurt.

She turns to search my face and waits while I find somewhere else to look.

“She’s been doing it since we were little,” I mutter. “I just let her.”

Sirena studies me. “You have not told your mate.”

“No.” If Ezra knew what Charity says to me, he’d burn her coven down. Sirena doesn’t ask why. Maybe her people don’t need it spelled out.

Sirena leans in, and Ezra drops out of the sky. He comes in way too steep and lopsided, beating hard to make up for the wing that won’t work. The bond snaps tight. He hits the ground face-first and plows up the grass with his chest until he stops inches from the path. I stumble when my wolf pulls toward him. My nose fills with dirt and his blood.

Claude touches down behind him in perfect control and tucks her green wings away. She meets my eyes across the lawn without saying a word. She’s serene and smug at the same time.

Ezra pushes up off the ground and pulls his good wing in. The torn muscle in his bad one knits back together whether he’s ready for it or not. No patient of mine would get out of bed with a tear like that, let alone fly on it. He gets to his feet with grass stains on his shirt and a fresh scrape bleeding along his chin. His scent is all dragon.

My hands won’t stop shaking. “Have you lost your damn mind?!” I yell.

“Yes.” Smoke pours from his nostrils. Behind him, Claude presses her lips together and works very hard at not laughing.

Sirena looks Ezra over and lays a hand over her heart for him. “Stormscale.”