Chapter 1: Blood in the Water

To save his lover from the humans, the merfolk king let himself get captured and locked up in the same research facility.

Under those buzzing fluorescent lights and the twitch of security cameras, he acted like just another specimen—but there was fire smoldering behind his eyes. He used his beauty and his haunting song to seduce a lab worker, tricking her into opening his tank.

That day, he almost killed everyone in the lab and carried his lover away in his arms.

It sounds like something out of a tragic fairytale.

If only the idiot who opened his tank hadn’t been me. But it was. And I still dream about it.

1

I was clocking out late, the keys digging into my palm, when a sharp, coppery whiff of blood hit me near the D-wing dumpster out back.

It was one of those sticky, humid Jersey nights—mosquitoes chewing on my ankles, the air thick with asphalt, fried onions from the food truck, and the stench of old trash. A massive, dark shape lay sprawled at the bottom of a drained outdoor pool.

By the flicker of a distant halogen, moths circling it like drunks, I squinted and saw what it was.

A merman.

A merman, nearly ten feet long, sprawled in a filthy heap of garbage. His silver hair—once so bright—was caked with blood and dirt. Those eyes, the kind that could freeze anyone in their tracks, were shut tight, motionless.

He looked like nothing more than discarded trash.

Silas? Why the hell is he here?

I knew him—he was the merman captured with Theo.

The lab only managed to net these two rare, mature merfolk. How did one end up dumped like this?

A coworker leaving with me glanced over, voice tired and heavy with pity.

"Yeah, he just snapped awake mid-experiment. Went wild—Lucas almost lost an arm."

He shook his head, pushing his glasses up. "Lucas dumped him out here, left him for dead. Said if he croaks, he’ll just dissect him for parts."

The sight of his wounds made my stomach turn. No creature deserved this—not even one with claws.

Merfolk heal fast—crazy fast. Even torn up like this, put back in water, he’d be fine in a couple weeks.

Lucas left him here hoping he’d die first.

I stopped, frozen. Keys pressed into my skin, the Jersey night pressing in, the hum of distant traffic. I stood there, keys digging into my palm, debating. Leave it alone, Morgan. Just go home. But I couldn’t.

My coworker shot me a look. "You’re not seriously thinking of saving him, are you? I’d think twice."

He dropped his voice, eyes darting around. "Look, Lucas’s dad bankrolls the whole project. He’s not like us—he’s here for his resume, not a paycheck. You cross him, your life’s gonna get real hard."

I didn’t answer. After he left, I doubled back to the lab and fired up the transport robot.

The robot’s whir echoed down the empty halls as I steered it out back. Silas was in bad shape, out cold—no need for more sedative.

There was an old, abandoned water tank in the lab. I filled it, then slid Silas inside.

He never stirred, just sank to the bottom.

Blood swirled through the water, turning it the color of cherry cough syrup. His hair, once silver, drifted in the current like tangled fishing line.

In the next tank over, Theo swam in anxious circles, hostility written all over his face.

"Why him?" His usual soft blue eyes were sharp with accusation.

His voice trembled, more hurt than angry. "You already have me... isn’t that enough? Or do you want him more?"

I tried to comfort him. "I only want you, but he’s your kin. How could I just watch him die?"

Theo pressed his palm to the glass, eyes narrowed, suspicion burning. But I didn’t tell him the truth—that I carried a guilt toward Silas I could never quite name.

Because Theo wasn’t my original subject.

When the capture team brought me two merfolk, I had to choose.

One was Theo.

The other was Silas.

I told myself it was the logical choice. But I still see Silas’s eyes in my sleep—burning, betrayed.