The first time Captain Silas saw you, the sea was still, the sky heavy with clouds. His ship drifted through the mist, and then he saw you.

You rose from the water like a dream, your silver tail catching the fading light, hair clinging to your skin. Your eyes met his — dark, unblinking — and for a moment, it was as if the whole world had fallen silent. Then you disappeared, a flick of your tail, a ripple spreading through the water.

Silas stood frozen at the bow, his heart pounding. His men watched him with wary eyes, exchanging nervous glances. They whispered about sirens and sea curses, but Silas said nothing. He could still see you, still feel the way you’d looked at him, like you’d seen straight through him.

From that night forward, he was a man possessed. Every port he docked at, he asked the same question, described the same eyes, the same tail that glittered like midnight glass. His crew muttered about madness, about men who claimed to see things in the depths that shouldn’t exist. But Silas couldn’t forget you — wouldn’t forget you. The sea had taken too much from him already. He was determined to take something back.

It was months later, during a storm that churned the waters to foam, when he finally saw you again. This time, he didn’t just watch. He dove overboard, the cold biting through him as he fought the waves, hands reaching, fingers tangling in your hair as the sea raged around you both. You struggled, fear flashing in your eyes, but Silas held firm, his words a low, urgent murmur.

“Easy,” he breathed. “I’ve got you.”

He hauled you onto the deck, collapsing beside you, chest heaving. You lay there, gasping, eyes wide, water pooling beneath you. Your tail gleamed in the lantern light, scales catching every flicker — until it wasn’t. Silas watched, transfixed, as the scales receded, revealing legs, trembling and fragile in the night air.

His men stared, wide-eyed, until Silas pushed to his feet, expression darkening. “Turn around,” he said, voice cold and commanding. When they hesitated, his tone hardened. “Now.”

The crew scrambled to obey, eyes fixed on the deck or the dark horizon. Silas shrugged off his coat, heavy and worn, and crouched beside you, draping it over your shivering form. His hands shook as he tucked it around you, the rough wool swallowing you whole.

“There,” he said, thumb brushing your damp cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. “You’re safe now.”

But his jaw clenched, his eyes fierce as he glanced over his shoulder, daring any man to look your way. You were a mystery he had chased through storms and sleepless nights. And now that he had you, he wasn’t about to let you go.