Page 121 of Cruel Tides

I plunged my hand into the tank without hesitation, and as my fingers closed around the helpless fish, a hum vibrated next to me.

“Well, this is interesting,” a smoky voice said, wafting into my ear.

And instead of popping into the form of a magnificent merman, the fish in my hand bolted, its slick scales slipping through my fingers as my head turned to where the sea wizard peered over my shoulder.

“I, uh…” Embarrassment hit me like a wave as I held my hand down in the water. Despite the heavy smell of salt in the air, it seemed to be freshwater. The betta swam to the tank’s pebbled bottom, hiding from the psycho trying to snatch it up.

An ordinary fish in an ordinary fish tank.

“I was… hungry,” I said, the words surprising even me.

One of the sea wizard’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Hungry?”

“Um. Yeah.” Looking down into the tank, I plucked up a plant from the bottom. “Thought this was star grass,” I said, each word sounding more wooden than the last. “It’s… my favorite.”

Deafening silence.

The sea wizard moved behind me, a shadow shifting in the light. I shuddered as his arm grazed my back, reminding me he was very much real. He leaned in, surveying the plant. “It’s plastic.”

Water dripped from the decoration’s many stiff, neon green points as I held it up over the water. “So it is.” Could I have felt any more foolish? “My mistake.”

The cool vapor of his laugh brushed over my shoulder as I stuffed the plastic plant back into the bottom of the tank. I pinched my mouth shut, hating that the sound of his laugh wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “Come,” he said, moving back to the doors. “The crown is awaiting your arrival.”

“Of course they are.” I rolled of my eyes, wiping the tank water on the front of my pants. So much for my great escape. Barren had been right—it seemed the island really did come to life at night.

But before opening the door, the sea wizard seized my arm. “You keep playing right into our hands.” He threw the words at me like stones, his expression bordering on mockery. “So easy to manipulate.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” I jerked my arm away and was surprised when he readily let go.

The way his lips thinned as he reached for the door only pissed me off more. “Nothing,” he said dryly.

“No—please, do tell me what you wanted me to do differently,” I snapped right back. “You’re the one who grabbed me out of thin air. Or do you consider me needing to use the restroom ‘playing into your hand’?”

The sea wizard turned to me fully, and the raw fury in his retort made my throat tighten. “Oh, we’refar beyondwhat I wanted, little captive.”

I glared back at him, my anger mounting. “So, that’s it? More cryptic words for me to decipher?” Was he incapable of speaking plainly? “And for the last time—I amnotyour captive.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, his anger rivaling my own. Then he took a deep breath, collecting himself. With a cold glare, he edged the doors open. “Now you’re hers.”

The doors opened, and a puff of humid air slapped me right in the face.

“Come in, come in.” A gentle, rippling voice, like delicate seashells rolling in the surf. “I’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival, dear child.”

Driven by an indescribable feeling, my feet carried me past the sea wizard and into the stuffy room. An unremarkable desk sat in the center of a dimly lit space, its surface covered in chaotic piles of papers and worn-out trinkets. Yet the room held a surprising addition—a hot tub tucked away in the corner.

Even more surprising was the woman lounging within its depths, a prominent smile spreading over her maroon lips as she regarded me. My eyes widened when I spotted a tentacle languidly caressing the water’s surface.

Salt water.

The water bubbled up around her curves, and steam rose in excessive amounts as she waded to the front of the tub. Emerald eyes dazzling in the dim light, she draped her thick arms over the hot tub’s edge. “Come closer, child,” she beckoned, a gentle command I found myself following.

It was strange how brittle her voice sounded compared to the smoothness of her plump face.

With a long fingernail, she lazily swirled a strand of deep burgundy hair sticking out of an overly messy bun atop her head. Despite her ageless features, thin lines of silver streaked through her hair, and when the matted strands shifted, it revealed a tarnished black crown hidden within the mass.

The knots looked so complicated that I had to wonder how long the crown had been stuck in there and if taking it off would require the use of a pair of shears.

It was at that moment I felt it—the weight of eyes on my back. I spun around to a couch hosting an assembly of striking young men.

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