Siren swam deeper, letting the ocean swallow him whole. The silence of the deep should have calmed him, should have reminded him of who he was—what he was. But no matter how far he dove, his mind refused to quiet.
Her voice still echoed in his head. I wish I could escape.
Why did those words haunt him? He had never cared for the surface world before. Humans had always been a distant curiosity, nothing more. And yet, one brief encounter with her had unraveled something inside him.
Days passed, yet the feeling did not fade. It worsened.
He became restless, unable to focus when his people spoke to him. His movements in the water lost their grace, weighed down by thoughts of her.
"Siren," a voice snapped, dragging him from his daze.
He turned to see his older brother, Kael, watching him with narrowed eyes. "You're distracted."
Siren forced his expression into indifference. "I'm fine."
Kael studied him for a long moment before speaking. "You've been swimming to the surface again, haven't you?"
A chill ran through Siren's spine, but he kept his voice calm. "So what if I have?"
"You know the law." Kael's tone hardened. "We are not meant for the surface, and humans are not meant for us."
Siren clenched his jaw. "I know."
"Then act like it." Kael swam closer, lowering his voice. "You are not a child anymore, Siren. If the elders find out you've been watching humans, they will not be merciful."
Siren knew that. He knew the punishment.
And yet, he still wanted to see her again.
Kael sighed, shaking his head. "You need to forget whatever foolish curiosity has taken root in you."
Forget?
Siren almost laughed.
It was already too late for that.