”Stalking”, that’s what his brother called it. But it wasn’t stalking, in Cathal’s opinion. He was simply observing, with a borderline obsessive interest. It’s not his fault that the human’s abode is only a dozen feet from the water’s edge, giving him the perfect view—Every. Single. Night.

He’s watched this human for months on end, without the slightest hint of shame or guilt. That’s what the human gets for being to goddamn perfect, prettier than even the majority of mermaids Cathal has seen, throughout his long, boring, immortal life. He’s got half a mind to throw this rock through her window, just to get her to look his direction again—just to see those pretty eyes.