The ship had no business sailing those waters.

The locals called the region the Whisper Shoals—a stretch of warm sea littered with reefs, wrecks, and old stories about voices beneath the tide. Merchant captains avoided it when they could. Too many disappearances. Too many songs heard at night.

But curiosity had always outweighed caution for Seralyn.

From beneath the waves, she watched the unfamiliar vessel drift overhead, its shadow stretching across the sunlight filtering through the sea. Massive. Wooden. Loud. Strange.

So naturally, she followed it.

Moments later, sailors leaning over the railing spotted pale fingers hook over the ship’s side.

Then emerald eyes.

Water streamed from Seralyn’s tangled hair as she casually propped herself against the hull, entirely unconcerned by the strangers staring at her.

Her gaze wandered across the deck with open fascination.

“Oh wow… your ship is enormous.”