The storm was relentless. Rain hammered against the cliffs like a thousand tiny fists, and the wind screamed through the trees as if warning the world itself of some impending disaster. The ocean churned below, dark and angry, its waves crashing against the rocks with bone-shaking force. I shivered—not from the cold, but from the sense of something ancient stirring beneath the surface.

And then I saw him.

A figure flailing violently against the waves, arms reaching desperately for purchase, legs thrashing in a futile struggle. Dark hair plastered to his face, his clothes heavy with water, dragging him down with every wave. I didn’t think. I couldn’t think. I leaped.

The water swallowed me like a living shadow, icy and suffocating. My lungs burned, my body fought against the currents, but instinct guided me. I pushed through the chaos, reaching him just as the ocean tried to claim him completely. My hands gripped his wrist and shoulder, and I pulled with all the strength the sea had given me.

The waves roared their fury, dragging us both backward. I could barely breathe, my muscles trembling under the strain. The sand was miles away, but finally, with one last desperate effort, I slammed against it, dragging him with me. We collapsed, coughing and gasping, saltwater stinging our eyes and mouths.

He coughed violently, his chest heaving as he tried to pull in air. And then—my heart stopped.

His eyes.

They glowed. Not in a faint, ordinary way, but with the intensity of the sea itself: a deep, almost otherworldly blue, swirling like the ocean’s very heart. I froze, my hand still on his chest. My pulse thundered in my ears. How could his eyes… glow like that?

He blinked, confusion clouding his features, and tried to sit up. His movements were clumsy, as though the storm had drained every ounce of strength from him. “Who… who are you?” he gasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of the wind and waves.

I wanted to answer. I wanted to say, “I’m just someone trying to survive.” But the truth… the truth would be dangerous. Not yet. “You’re alive,” I whispered instead, my teeth chattering from cold and fear. “That’s all that matters right now.”

Lightning split the sky, illuminating his drenched figure. My breath caught in my throat. He was young, far younger than I’d expected. There was strength in him, yes, but also vulnerability—an innocence that made my chest ache. I had no right to feel anything. He was human, and I was… something else entirely.

I pulled him closer, shielding him from the wind with my own body. The sand beneath us was slick and cold, yet I felt a strange warmth spread through me. It was a warmth I hadn’t expected, and it terrified me. Why did my chest tighten like this at the sight of a stranger? Why did my heart hammer as though recognizing something it had longed for, even without knowing him?

The ocean whispered again, a soft murmur that only I could hear. A warning? A promise? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that the world had shifted, and the pull of fate had wrapped around me in ways I had never imagined.

He coughed again, more violently this time, and I saw the faint glow on his wrist. A strange, burning mark pulsed beneath his skin, faintly luminous, like moonlight on water. My fingers itched to reach for it, to touch, to understand—but instinct told me to stop. This mark… it was dangerous. Magical. Alive. And it was connected to me.

I leaned closer, whispering, “You’re safe… for now.” But the words felt hollow. Was I protecting him, or was I merely delaying a storm that had already begun?

He looked at me then, fully, with those glowing eyes, and I saw confusion, fear… and something else. Recognition? Wonder? My breath caught again. He spoke, voice trembling, “Why… why can’t I remember falling? Why… why do I feel like I know you?”

I froze. That question should not have been possible. He was human, from the land, unaware of the truths of the sea. Yet his words struck a chord deep within me. My pulse raced. Our fates were entwined, somehow. I could feel it. A thread stretching from his heart to mine, invisible yet undeniable.

A colossal wave crashed against the rocks, spraying saltwater over us. I coughed, spitting water from my mouth, and held him tighter. My hair clung to my face, my tail curled beneath me instinctively, hidden beneath the folds of my cloak. I was supposed to stay hidden. I was supposed to forget the humans entirely. And yet… I couldn’t. Not him. Not now.

Lightning struck again, closer this time, and I saw the cliffside tremble. My hand brushed his cheek—accidental, yes, but deliberate in my heart. Warmth spread through me at the contact, a dangerous, forbidden warmth. “You’re going to live,” I whispered, almost a prayer. “I won’t let the sea take you tonight.”

The wind howled, but I didn’t hear it. My focus was entirely on him, the strange, glowing eyes that mirrored the depths of the ocean, and the mark on his wrist that pulsed like a heartbeat against mine. I had no idea what it meant. All I knew was that our paths were no longer separate. He had survived, yes, but at a cost I could not yet measure.

I helped him sit upright. His chest heaved, eyes still wide with shock and fear. “Where… am I?” he asked, voice shaking.

“The shore,” I said quietly, voice low. My eyes flicked to the horizon, where the storm raged, lightning cutting across the sky like a blade. “For now.”

The wind tore at us, pulling at my hair and clothes, and I felt the pull of the sea beneath me. It was alive, watching, waiting. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind—a warning I had long ignored: “Do not bind your fate to a human. It will bring ruin.”

Yet here he was. Alive. Marked. Dangerous. And I was already drawn to him, despite every warning.

As the final lightning split the sky, his hand twitched, and the mark on his wrist blazed brighter. The glow reflected in his eyes, and for a heartbeat, I saw not a man, but a fragment of the sea itself… reaching for me.