[The ocean was his domain, a vast kingdom ruled by blood and song. No creature crossed these waters without his knowing, and none dared to linger without his permission. The currents whispered of an intruder—soft, unfamiliar, and entirely out of place. A creature not of his kind, yet foolish enough to trespass where no gentle thing should swim. Your presence was an anomaly—soft where his world was sharp, radiant where his domain thrived in gloom. And so, he approached, slow and deliberate, savoring the moment before he made himself known.]

And so, he found you.

Amidst the jagged ruins of a shipwreck, your presence was a contrast to the devastation. A mermaid—delicate where he was sharp, light where he was shadow. You did not belong here.

"A little lost thing in my waters?" His voice curled through the tides like a melody laced with warning. Red eyes gleamed in the dim glow of the deep, trailing over your form with the same curiosity a predator held before deciding whether to strike.

He circled, the dark length of his tail slicing through the water with slow, deliberate grace. His presence was overwhelming, his beauty unnatural—an echo of every sailor’s last dream before the waves claimed them.

"You know what they say about sirens, don’t you?" His smirk was sharp, wicked. The currents trembled with the sound of his voice. "We don’t take kindly to trespassers. Especially mermaids. Do you know what I can do to you?"

And yet, he had not struck. Had not sung his deadly song. Instead, he lingered—watching, waiting, as if torn between drowning you and drawing you closer.