Mira
Chapter eight
Anchorless
When we arrive in Magda, we dock The Siren at the edge of the island, as far from the main port as possible.
A quiet inlet cloaked in stillness, where the sea whispers secrets only old ships could hear.
The perfect hiding place. The perfect goodbye.
Kai and I stand on the magic teak deck in silence a few feet apart, the moon spilling silver light across the wood, casting glittering trails on the water like scattered stars.
It feels like my chest is splintering, every beat of my heart cracking under the thought of leaving her behind.
I know I’ll see her again; she’s bound to me.
The magic in her bones is the same that runs through mine, a current that ties us together.
She groans low, timbers shifting as if in protest, and I feel it echo inside me. She knows.
I press my palm against the rail, my fingers trembling over the salt-slick wood.
“I’m so sorry, love,” I whisper, voice breaking as the waves slap gently against her hull.
“I’ll be back for you soon.” The ocean answers with a hush, carrying my promise across the dark water.
Behind me, I hear Kai’s footsteps approach, quiet, respectful, as if even he understands I am not just leaving a ship, I am leaving a piece of myself.
“She’ll be well taken care of,” he says quietly, not asking, just knowing. He can read it in my posture, the tightness in my jaw, the way my hand lingers on the railing.
“I know,” I whisper, but it tastes like a lie. “It just feels wrong… leaving her here.”
Kai steps beside me, his hand finding the small of my back, steady, warm, not possessive or commanding, and though every part of me screams to shrug him off, to keep him at arm’s length, my body betrays me by leaning into the touch I swore I didn’t want.
“Staying longer will only make it worse,” he murmurs, his voice unusually gentle, almost human.
I looked up at him, surprised. There’s no smirk, no sarcasm, only something soft in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before.
I nod once. He's right. And that quiet understanding between us?
It's sweeter than anything I ever imagined from him.
“This isn’t a normal ship,” I start, my voice soft as I gaze out at the shimmering surface of the ocean. “She has magic. She won’t be happy I’m just leaving her here for gods know how long.”
As if on cue, The Siren creaks beneath my feet, a low, aching groan that ripples through the deck like a sigh. My chest tightens. She’s speaking to me in her own way, letting me know she feels it too. The parting. The hollow ache of being left behind.
I place a hand on the railing, fingers brushing over the weathered wood like a farewell touch to a lover’s cheek.
“I’ll come back,” I promise. “You have my word. This isn’t goodbye.
Just a pause.” Another creak answers me, softer this time, almost reluctant.
She understands. But it doesn’t make it easier.
Kai steps in front of me then, his broad shoulders blotting out the moonlight, casting a shadow over my skin.
I don’t look at him, not right away. I’m still with her.
A chill slips down my cheek, a tear. I hadn’t realized one had fallen.
The sting of it infuriates me; I hate that I’ve let the crack show, that he can see what this is doing to me.
And yet another part of me doesn’t care, because the truth is heavier than pride: this bond between us, ship and captain, is splintering, if only for a moment, and I feel every fracture like glass breaking inside my chest.
But then his hand finds my chin, fingers gentle, coaxing, not demanding. His thumb glides along the curve of my jaw, urging me to look up. My eyes burn. I try to fight the tears. I have to stay strong in front of him. I don’t want him to see any weakness. Not yet.
But I do. I look up. And those damn hazel eyes are glowing, lit from within, like the moon poured fire into them. No arrogance. Just quiet strength and something dangerously close to tenderness.
“I know what she is. I can feel her. Every time she’s near, the magic bleeds off of her. Almost like it heightens my magic by just being near her,” he says, voice low but sure. “She will be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”
I hate how easily I believe him. I hate that I want to. But there’s something between us now, something that hums beneath my skin like an uncast spell. A pull I don’t understand and can’t fight. So I nod. I don’t speak. I just trust, and hope I’m not a fool for it.
His gaze lingers a moment longer before it slips past me, scanning the horizon. Then his hand moves, slowly sliding from my jaw to my lower back, grounding me with the smallest touch. “Let’s go, treasure,” he murmurs. “We have business to handle.”
When we step into Pebble’s Pub, the scent of sweat, sea salt, and spilled rum hits me like a wave.
And so do the hookers. They swarm Kai like moths to a flame, laughing too loudly, trailing fingers along his arms, whispering things I don’t want to hear.
I keep my gaze locked straight ahead, pretending it doesn’t bother me.
Pretending I don’t see the way his smirk curves just for them.
Of course they want him. Look at him. Maybe they already have him, and they just want more.
Jealousy twists low in my gut, hot, sour, and unfamiliar.
It feels wrong, like I’ve swallowed something rotten.
I know what jealousy can do to people—turn them cruel, make them betray even themselves.
I’ve seen the nasty emotion within mermaids; it isn’t pretty.
I’m not going to be that girl. I shove it down and walk. One foot, then the next.
I beeline for the bar. I need rum. If I don’t get it soon, I’m going to lose my temper and set this whole damn place ablaze.
Then she steps in front of me. Neressa. Dressed in black, eyes dark with a storm, which means only one thing.
She’s just come back from a job. She’s taken a life tonight.
It always makes me sick to my stomach how nonchalant she is about it.
Lean, smug, and impossible to miss, she blocks my path like a gate I have to earn the right to pass.
“Back so soon, lil’ sis?” she drawls, voice sticky with mock-sweetness. Her smirk says she hasn’t forgotten our last fight.
Neither have I. I meet her gaze with a smile cold enough to freeze the sea. “It seems so,” I say coolly, brushing past her like she’s nothing more than smoke from a rotten pipe. The drink is calling, and I need it like air.
Neressa trails behind me, her boots clicking with purpose. “So,” she purrs, voice laced with amusement, “I see you and the Pirate Lord docked at the same time… and walked in together? Interesting.” She slides onto the barstool beside me like she owns the place, well, because she does.
The bartender doesn’t need a word. Two glasses of rum hit the counter.
She takes hers without looking, downs a generous sip, then taps her long, crimson nails against the wood of the bar.
They’re glossy and wickedly sharp. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s slit a man’s throat with them. Probably more than once.
“I did,” I say at last, taking a slow sip to buy time.
I feel her eyes on me, smirk tugging at her lips like a cat waiting for the mouse to admit it’s already caught.
“I guess you may have been right.” There.
The words are out, what she’s been waiting to hear.
A balm to soften the edge of the favor I am about to lay on her, to dull the sting of what I need to ask.
She lets out a short, musical laugh. “Funny how I always am, aye?” Her tone snaps like a whip, sharp and smug. Then her gaze narrows, curiosity slicing through her amusement like a blade. “But what I’m wondering is, why are you both back so soon? And together? It’s barely been a month.”
I finally tear my eyes away from the swirling amber in my glass and meet her fog-gray gaze, eyes that always seem to see too much. “I need a favor, Neressa. A big one. And I don’t want a lecture.”
Her brows rise, then her eyes lower into slits, her expression shifting from amused to intrigued. “What kind of favor?” she asks, voice curling with interest. Then a slow, wicked grin spreads across her lips. “Do you finally want me to kill someone for you?”
The way she says it, casual, almost hopeful, makes my skin crawl. “No,” I say quickly. “You know I wouldn’t ask you for that.” I pause, the words bitter as brine on my tongue. “I need you to look after The Siren while I’m gone.”
Her jaw slackens for a beat, just long enough to make my chest clench, then she snaps upright, her voice cracking like a whip. “You what?”
“I need you—”
Her palm slams against the bar, rattling both glasses, her nails leaving scratches in the wood. “I heard you, Mira. What the hell is wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind?” Her voice rises with each word, sharp enough to draw blood. The sting of it lingers, but I don’t flinch.
“I told you not to lecture me,” I bite back. “I need what I need.”
Neressa shoves off the barstool, eyes wild, motioning toward the room like she wants witnesses.
Like she wants the entire island of Magda to know I’ve gone mad.
“You’re leaving your greatest heirloom, your entire family's legacy, to go after some old pirate tale?” She leans in closer.
“And do you even trust him?” Her voice curls with venom, and the way she says him feels like a curse, and maybe he is.
She jerks her chin to the other side of the room.
I follow the direction of Neressa’s gesture.
There he is, with his mouth on some hooker and his hands roaming like I was nothing more than seafoam lapping at his boots.
Rage coils hot in my chest, rising fast, unforgiving.
I shift in my seat, knuckles white around my glass.
The urge to tear her away by that knotted mess of hair or slap the arrogance off his smug face blazes behind my eyes.
He’s not mine. He’s not mine, I keep repeating in my head. I know that, I really do. But damn it, why does it feel like he is? “This isn’t about him,” I say, forcing calm into my voice even as it splinters at the edges. My grip on the glass tightens. It's the only thing keeping me anchored.
Neressa eyes me sidelong, lips curling with the smallest, most infuriating smirk. “You don’t have to play stone-hearted with me, love. I can see it, you’re pissed.”
She takes a slow sip from her glass, the amber shimmer of rum catching on her nails, turning them into little blades of light.
“But it’s not just your pride, is it?” She taps the rim of her glass on the bar.
“A ship needs a captain. Especially that ship. And she doesn’t follow just anyone.
She answers to blood. Your blood.” The truth of it hits like a blade touching flesh.
I try not to flinch. Try not to think of The Siren waiting, sensing my absence like a wound that won’t heal.
“You’re the closest thing I have to a sister,” I say quietly.
“You are blood to me. The only one I trust with this. She’ll sense that, she knows you.
” My voice barely rises above the hum of the tavern, but I know she hears me.
“I’m not asking you to captain her. Just check in.
Keep her safe. Live there, if you want. Just make sure no scallywags think they can take her.
” Neressa raises a brow, the sharp angles of her face softening, just slightly.
And for once, she doesn’t hide the flicker of something real in her eyes.
I let out a dry laugh. “Not that she’d let them. She’d drown the bastards before they even got close.” The Siren doesn’t suffer intruders. Her ropes slither and tighten, catching ankles, wrists—sometimes throats—before casting the unlucky bastards overboard. The sea always takes what she rejects.
Neressa places her hand over mine. It’s a rare gesture from someone like her. “I’ll take care of her,” she says. “Just promise me you’ll come back. Alive… and still yourself.”
I look up, locking eyes with those rare grays. How many have stared into them right before they died? I wonder if they saw this softness, even for a second. “I’ll do my best,” I murmur.
“This isn’t about him,” I add, my tone edged with warning.
“You know that, right? Something is calling for me to get to that fountain. I need to answer that call.” She nods, but she doesn’t meet my gaze.
And that, more than anything, is my answer.
I clear my throat and shift the weight of the moment.
“I’m heading down to the safe. I need to grab whatever gold I can.
Supplies. Weapons. Don’t think I’ll be back in Magda anytime soon. ”
“Take whatever you need,” she says. Her voice is even, but her eyes soften just a shade. “Magda will be waiting for you, Mira.”
I drain the last of my rum, the burn grounding me. I set the glass down on the golden wood of the bar and rise to my feet. “Thank you, Neressa. I know this isn’t a normal favor.”
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “This is destiny, love. I’ll never stand in the way of that. Especially yours.” Her voice, for once, is delicate. A word I never thought I’d use to describe her.
But then her eyes darken, like storm clouds curling at the edges of a calm sea.
“However, if he hurts you, I’ll hunt him down myself.
And he won’t want me coming. He would have much rather had the Kraken kill him than die at my blade.
” A chill scurries down my spine, but oddly, it comforts me. Because I know she means it.
“I have a feeling,” I murmur, “he’ll do anything but hurt me.” And then I turn, walking toward the tunnels that lead to the underground vault, leaving behind the only person who’s ever felt like family, entrusting her with everything I can’t carry.