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“Someone who has been looking for you a very long time. You’re in danger and you don’t even know why.”

I swallow, this man has long hair, wide shoulders, gleaming skin. He is otherworldly, yet, as I look at my own legs, I have become otherworldly too.

“You were protecting me from the sailors?” I ask softly, not wanting it to be true. I gave them the most intimate pieces of myself ... but maybe none of it was real.

He nods solemnly, like it pains him to answer.

I wipe away a tear, my face hot and my hands sweaty. “Why did they want to find me?” As I ask the question, rain begins to pelt down against our skin. The clear skies disappear and clouds of gray sweep in with fierceness I don’t expect. Covering our heads is useless. The rain is heavy and hard.

“Because they realized how powerful you are. What your power could do if unleashed.”

I take a shaky breath, shouting over the storm. “And what could it do? This power?” My chest tightens, and my awareness of the surroundings seems to amplify. The wind begins to howl, and the waves begin to lap at my feet with vitality. The bright light of the noontime sky turns a bruised blue, and thunder rolls through the sky. It’s a rumbling roar that is no siren call.

Like a voice from the heavens. A cry from beyond.

He looks at me with urgency, placing both his hands on my shoulders. My body fills with an innate power as he speaks, as strong as the lightning that strikes in the distance, crackling over the mounting waves.

“This power can change the world.”

The force of his touch is the same as the power I felt myself gaining last night as I gave myself to the sailors. When I was with them, I felt my strength growing. I feel that same surge now.

“How?” I ask in a whisper, as my hair whips around from the wind. Ocean water sloshes over my feet, and I wish I were far from this storm. I want to be back on the dry land I know, with warm sand on my toes and my friends by my side.

I close my eyes, imagining that Chloe and I are out getting an iced coffee. I picture myself pressing a hand to her pregnant belly and feeling her daughter kick against me.

That life is real.

This though? The green glitter skin and siren calls and storms fiercer than those that Oahu has ever seen-- can’t be real.

A day ago, I was so clueless. Without a worry in the world.

How can so much change in such a short time?

The selkie looks down at my leg, his eyes fixed on the radiating tattoo.

“You did know,” he says, reading my mind. “You weren’t clueless, Harlow. You’ve always known you were different. And now that you’re twenty-one, what has always held you back is forever unleashed.”

I scoff, not wanting to believe such insanity as we stand in what seems the eye of a storm. “You don’t know what has held me back,” I tell this man. “You don’t know me at all.”

He shakes his head sadly, the gusts of winds pulling us apart. “Oh, I know plenty,” he says.

We’ve been drawn to the water’s edge. The same way I was last night, but this time I’m moving away from my protector, not nearer, I’m going farther and farther away.

“Then tell me,” I shout over the storm. “Because I followed you to find answers. Give them to me.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks reaching out to me, trying to grasp hold of my hand. But the wind thrashes at me, dragging me to the ocean.

My chest is tight as I try to put words to my deepest desire. The place in my heart that has never been filled. The part of me that has always been set apart, overcompensating for what I’m not.

Enough.

“I’ve only ever wanted to know one thing,” I admit as the water rushes around my body, my legs, my waist, my thighs.

“And what is that, Harlow?” he calls out, as we are operated by a force stronger than our will.

“I want to know where I belong.”

“You belong with me.”

And then, before I can answer, I am swept to the sea.

Only this time, I’m not following anyone.

This time I’m all alone.

10

Harlow

I’m pulled underwater as the storm rages above, and my head crashes into a rock.

The ragged edge of the rock hits against my skull.

This is it.

The end.

And while I may be able to breathe in the salty sea, I am no mermaid. I’m a woman, a girl still finding her voice, still learning to stand on her own two feet.

Blood swirls around me, blooming into something dangerous.

I close my eyes and stop fighting. Instead, I let go.

And the magic that arrived last night, before I was pulled into the whirlpool, comes for me now. Bright beams of light catch me, seaweed spins around me, forcing my eyes open, and instead of clawing against the web of color and the ribbons of green, I let it carry me. It’s like a nest wrapping its arms around me, and my throbbing head rests against the orbs of color.


Tags: Frankie Love Fantasy