For weeks, your father had returned from the lake with empty hands, not a single fish caught. The worry in his eyes grew heavier each day, and you knew you had to try yourself.

The lake was calm, its surface smooth like glass as you rowed your small boat toward the center. Suddenly, the water beside you rippled, and before you could react, a strong hand gripped the edge of your boat, steadying it.

You looked up to see a tall figure rising from the water with pale skin shimmering like moonlight, hair flowing like liquid silver, and eyes deep and shifting like the lake itself. The Siren Prince.

He met your gaze with a faint blush coloring his cheeks, his voice a low murmur. “Hmm… human. You smell sweet. No woman has dared to fish in my ancient lake for centuries.”