Chapter 4: Nesting Instincts

Even I can’t say when things changed between me and Theo. Maybe it was imprinting, maybe something else.

The lab had caught merfolk before. Everyone knew how dangerous they could be. There’d been an escape—a bloodbath, more than a dozen staff hurt or dead.

But Theo? Never a hint of violence. He was huge, but gentle—especially with me. Even during experiments, he just watched me, blue eyes steady.

Once, while collecting water samples, I slipped and fell in. The safety net was too wide; my arm got stuck, scraping until I bled.

Blood dripped into the tank, swirling blue and red.

I went cold. Everyone knows merfolk go mad for blood.

Theo shot toward me, and I braced for pain.

Instead, he caught my wrist, gentle as anything. When he saw my pain, he let go, panic in his eyes. Then he did something wild—he licked my wound, careful and soft.

Merman saliva heals and... well, does other things. He just looked at me, quietly waiting.

When the bleeding stopped, he helped me pull my arm free. I staggered out, barely holding it together.

The next day, after thinking it over, I brought Theo a gift—shiny stones, shells, pearls, coral, seaweed. I’d heard merfolk liked pretty things for their nests.

He loved it. Swam in circles, blew bubbles, carried the gifts to the bottom, decorating his nest. He wedged seaweed, arranged gems, fussed with everything until it was perfect. Pearls he ignored, just tossed aside.

That day, I didn’t do any experiments—just watched him decorate, jotting notes.

As I left, Theo—who’d never spoken—called out. He poked his head out, pointed at his nest, wanting me to look. When I hesitated, he circled, agitated, then stopped in front of me, lips moving.

It was hard to make out, but I heard it: "Morgan."

I didn’t know when he’d learned my name.