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soft hum broke through the pain. It started low and sad, like far-off whale calls.
She and her voice were the only things between him and death at sea. And they slipped through his fingers like sand.
He was always Prince Eric first, a citizen second, and—secretly, terribly, through no fault of his own—cursed third.
“If you kiss anyone or they kiss you, and they are not your true love,” she had repeated whenever he asked about the curse, “then you will die.”
“Hair as white as bone, lips red as dawn, and as beautiful as the sea can be terrible,”
A tall, pale man with the face of a jagged cliffside and more patience than the sea had salt,
“The Blood Tide is what comes for the desperate.” Sauer divided the wax into two pieces and took off their hat. “When blood is spilled on the waves and desperation is in the air, the ghost ship appears. It doesn’t sail. It arrives in a bank of fog no matter where you are. The Blood Tide leads the ghosts to you.”
Cool legend!
She and her voice were the only things between him and death at sea. And they slipped through his fingers like sand.
She was a storm of red, like a sunrise spilling across a ship.
blue sapphires plucked from the deepest part of the seas, and the pink dress she wore swirled around her body like high tide at sunset.
but instead of legs kicking up out of the water there was a shimmering dark blue tail.
The man tilted his head to the side. His deep black skin was salt flecked and cool toned, bring out the teal sheen in the scales running along his green tail. His dark braids were neatly gathered into a bun at the top of his head, small shells decorating the strands. A blue glass bead dangled from his left ear.
Nora wasn’t even a common name in Vellona or Riva, but Eleanora was.
She’s a cunning one, that Ursula.”
If she would have him, together they could find a way to break the curse in another way, kill Ursula, or live as happily as they could. Together, they— A voice echoed out across the rocks, high and clear as a bell. The tune of his song, his savior’s song, broke through the crash of the waves against the beach, and all thoughts of speaking to Ariel slipped from his head.
“I don’t care.” Eric kissed her again and relished how her heart thrummed against his chest. “It doesn’t matter if you were my true love or if you weren’t. You’re who I want. You’re who I am choosing to love. And I do love you.”
“Please, Gabriella,” Eleanora said. “The reaper is hardly old enough to be mistaken for Grim.”
“Come on,” Eric whispered. “It’s time for a new adventure.”
