Chapter 387:

Larissa

I know it’s dangerous to be here right now. The surface is chaos—fire and steel and screaming men. The water churns with falling bodies and sinking debris and spreading blood.

But I had to know.

I had to know he was okay.

I can’t just escape on my own. Swim back to the deep, back to my father, back to the life I left behind. I made a choice when I surfaced on that island. I made a choice when I let him wrap his coat around my shoulders. I made a choice when I followed his ship instead of returning home.

I chose him.

So I swim.

Underneath the chaos.

Keeping to the shadows. Staying close to the hull, where the water is dark and the light doesn’t reach. Avoiding the bodies that drift past,some still, some struggling, some screaming.

Careful.

I can’t be caught.

If just one human catches a glimpse of me, it’s over. They’ll point. Shout. Hunt. They’ll forget the battle, forget the ships, forget everything except the chance to capture a mermaid.

I’ve seen it before. A crew, united by greed, forgetting their quarrel to chase a creature worth more than all their plunder combined.

So I should leave.

I should dive deep, swim away, return when the water is quiet and the ships are gone and the blood has washed away.

But I can’t bring myself to leave.

I hear laughter.

Not kind laughter. Not the warm, gentle laughter of a friend. Cruel laughter. The laughter of men who enjoy the suffering of others.

I sink beneath the surface, hiding under a piece of debris. Wood presses against my back. Water fills my ears. My heart pounds.

I wait.

After a few moments, I surface again.

The head I’m tucked behind is charred, smoking, still hot from the fire. The ship it came from is sinking in two pieces, flames dancing on the water.

I watch the carnage.

Humans are indeed cruel.

For what reason are they doing this? What could possibly be worth taking another’s life? What treasure, what pride, what glory could justify the screams I hear, the blood I taste, the bodies that bump against my tail in the dark?

I don’t understand.

But he’s different.

Him.

The prince.

I’ve been watching him since he found me on the island. Since he wrapped his coat around my shoulders and stood between me and the pirates. Since he brought me onto his ship and gave me food and water and safety.

I expected him to hunt me. To demand payment. To treat me like the treasure I am.

Instead, he protects.

He asks nothing. Demands nothing. Expects nothing.

He just... is.

I’ve been watching. Waiting. Waiting to see if he’ll reveal his true nature, if he’ll show his claws, if he’ll prove himself like all the other humans.

But nothing.

He gives me space. He gives me silence. He gives me choice.

He’s different.

I scan the burning wreckage.

Where is he?

Where is the prince?

I hope he’s okay.

My eyes scan the water—the debris, the bodies, the flames reflecting on the waves. I search for him, for his bright hair, his broad shoulders, the coat I know so well.

Then I see him.

Falling.

From the railing. From the ship. From everything.

No!

I swim toward him, fast as I can, my tail cutting through the water. But multiple bodies fall around him—sailors, pirates, men still fighting even as they sink. They splash and thrash and scream.

I hide.

Duck beneath a piece of wreckage, press myself into the shadows, wait for the bodies to pass.

But he’s not coming up like the others.

I saw him hit the water. Saw him sink. Saw the dark shape of him disappear beneath the waves.

Why isn’t he surfacing?

I risk it all.

I leave the shadows, leave the wreckage, leave safety. I swim toward him, fast and desperate, not caring who sees.

The water is dark. The bodies are many. But I find him immediately.

His hair is bright—pale gold, unmistakable, floating around his head like a halo. His eyes are closed. His lips are blue. His face is pale, so pale, paler than I’ve ever seen.

He’s as handsome as ever.

But he’s still.

I take his hand. It’s cold. Cold and limp and wrong.

I swim.

I pull him away from the chaos, away from the bodies, away from the fire and the screams and the blood.

I find a plank—flat, wide, floating steady. I push him onto it, roll him over, arrange his limbs so he won’t fall. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

His chest doesn’t move.

His lips don’t part.

His eyes don’t open.

He cannot die.

I don’t know what to do.

I surround him—my body curled around the plank, my tail brushing against his legs, my arms hovering over his chest. I don’t know if I should push on his chest. I don’t know if I should breathe into his mouth. I don’t know if human lungs work the same as mine.

I can’t call for help.

I don’t know which humans are enemies and which are allies. I don’t know who would hurt me and who would help. I don’t know who would see a mermaid and see treasure instead of a person.

So I wait.

I hold him.

I pray.

Please.

Please don’t die.

A purple bird lands on his chest.

Its claws grip his shirt. Its head tilts. Its beady eyes study his pale face.

I chase it away.

I’ve heard stories,some birds from human lands eat flesh.They wait for things to die, then they feast.

He is not dead.

I won’t let him be.

The bird lands again.

I chase it again.

"My, what do we have here?"

A voice. Human. Close.

I freeze. My heart pounds. I sink beneath the water, ready to dive, ready to flee—

But him.

I can’t leave him.

I surface. Push the prince behind me. My body blocks him from view, my arms spread wide, my tail curled beneath the water.

"Don’t worry, little princess." The person is in a small boat—rowing toward us, slow and steady. I recognize them. The one from the forest that day.

How do they know I’m a princess?

"I’m here to save his life."

I hesitate.

I look at the prince. At his pale face. At his closed eyes. At the wound in his stomach, still bleeding, still killing him.

I don’t trust humans.

But I trust him even less dead.

I move away.

They leans over the side of her boat, grabs the prince by his coat, and hauls him onto the vessel. No gentleness. No care. Just force.

I watch, alarmed.

They starts to paddle. Toward the large ship—the black one, the one that’s been following the prince’s vessel for weeks.

I swim after her. Underneath the water. Following.

When they stop at the ship, I surface. Block her path.

"What?" she asks.

I call upon the power of the ocean.

It’s not something I do lightly. It drains me. Weakens me. Leaves me gasping and trembling and empty. But I need her to understand. I need her to listen.

My tail vanishes.

Legs replace it—pale and strange and wrong. I climb onto the boat, dripping water, shivering, human.

I speak.

"Follow."