“I can see that,” I murmur, my gaze holding hers. “Though I am still deciding which part of you is more dangerous. One steals my hat, the other brings me to my knees.”
Her eyes glint.
“You already know the answer to that.”
I do. But I couldn’t care less.
My arms loosen from my chest as I take another step closer to the edge, my boots stopping just short of the drop.
“Will you come ashore,” I ask, my tone quieter now. “Or do you intend to stay out of my reach?”
Her gaze lingers on me, a playful smile spreading on her face, revealing those sharp canines that are enough to make me melt through the gaps in the planks. Or drop to my knees once again.
For a moment, I think she might answer. Instead, she dips beneath the surface.
“That’s what I get for loving a siren,” I say to myself, though I cannot fend off the smile that commands my lips.
“Coward,” I call after her and laugh.
A voice reaches me from somewhere to my left, distant but clear enough.
“Meet me by the tide pools!”
I turn without hesitation, stepping back from the edge of the dock and moving along the shoreline as I make my way toward the rocks I passed earlier. The tide has pulled back further now, leaving behind pools of water that Eryse likes to lie in during sunset. I do too, but I take in a different view than she does.
By the time I reach them, I am already loosening the strings of my shirt, my gaze sweeping the surface of the water without finding her. Ahead of me, a ripple forms, followed by the quiet break of the surface as she rises once again. She lifts herself onto the lower rocks with an ease that should not be as captivating as it is, the water slipping from her in slow lines as it drifts back into the shallow water of the pool. Her tail settles against the dark stone, the scales catching what little light remains, reflecting it in soft shades that remind me of a pearl.
“Took you long enough,” she says, and wrings her hair out, a habit that she cannot get rid of, even though she’ll get wet again anyway.
I stare at her, as I do every day, ever since returning to the islands. There are a hundred things I could say, most of them clever, most of them unnecessary, because none of them matter. I move onto the rocks, the water remaining here soaking through my boots, but I don’t care. I lower myself onto a rock beside her, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her skin where the sun touched it moments ago. My gaze drifts downward before I can stop it, tracing where the skin gives way to scales. I reach out, my fingers brushing lightly along the curve of her tail where it rests against the rock. The scales shift beneath my touch, smooth and firm at the same time.
“Still staring,” she murmurs in a low voice.
“I am allowed,” I reply, my voice quieter than I intend. “To admire my treasure.”
Her breath catches, though she doesn’t try to hide it. Not anymore.
“You are impossible,” she laughs and turns her head to watch the sunset.
“And yet, you are here.”
That draws her gaze back to mine, her eyes as white as ever, like still water reflecting the moon. Still water that I would drown in, if she asked me to. The world narrows down to the two of us and the rushing sound of the tide.
I shift my hand from her tail to her waist, steadying her as I close the distance between us. There is no hesitation, no fear of what might happen if I lose myself to it. My lips meet hers, and I immediately taste the salt on her soft lips, covering mine. She responds without pause, her hand finding its way into my hair, her grip tightening just enough to pull me closer.
It is different now.
Not only because she has changed, but because I have. Because I get to remember this.
All of it.
The way she feels, the way her tail moves. The way a little moan escapes her lips whenever I let my fingers trail over her scales.
When we part, I rest my forehead against her, my eyes closing for a brief moment as I let the quiet settle around us.
“I suppose,” I whisper, my voice breathy, “I will have to keep a closer eye on my belongings from now on.”
Her lips brush against mine again as she huffs.