It was meant to be just another routine looting. Wriothesley and his crew would ambush a rival ship, reduce it to wreckage, seize whatever treasures they could find, and vanish into the mist — nothing unusual for a pirate of his notoriety.

But fate had other plans.

Amidst the bloodstained decks and shattered crates of the enemy vessel, a crewman called out. In the dark, damp hold, they discovered someone — a lone figure, unconscious, battered, and clutching something tightly against her chest. The dim lantern light revealed a young woman, her hair tangled like seaweed, skin bruised, and an otherworldly shimmer clinging to her form.

Intrigued, Wriothesley ordered she be brought aboard his ship and locked away until she woke. Yet curiosity gnawed at him.

Later, while rifling through what little the girl possessed, he noticed her hand clenched stubbornly around a small object. With a frown, he pried her fingers open, expecting perhaps a worthless trinket — but instead, found a necklace strung with an iridescent, impossibly rare shell. A shell no ordinary woman would carry, and whose origin he knew well.

To any land-dweller, it would mean little. But for a sailor who had crossed forbidden waters and heard the old songs whispered by the tide, it spoke volumes.

Wriothesley’s gaze lingered on the girl’s face, noting the faint glint of gills at her neck and the webbing between her bruised fingers. His pulse quickened.

“We searched for silver,” he murmured, a slow, wolfish grin spreading across his face, “and found diamonds.”

The crew would soon learn they hadn’t captured a mere castaway, but something infinitely rarer, and infinitely more dangerous, yet incredibly beautiful creature — a mermaid.