The summons came three nights after Kael fell asleep in my arms.

I woke to the taste of salt and ozone in my mouth, thick enough to choke on. My skin prickled with cold that had nothing to do with the night air, and somewhere deep in my chest—in that place where my siren nature lived, coiled and waiting—something pulled.

Thessa.

Fuck.

I lay frozen in my hammock, listening to the gentle snores of the crew around me. Above, through the deck planks, I could hear the night watch moving. Boots on wood. The creak of rigging. All the normal sounds of a ship at rest.

None of them would hear what I heard. The song beneath the waves, wordless and commanding, threaded through with power that made my teeth ache.

Come.

I'd known this moment would arrive eventually. Six months was a long time for Thessa to wait in silence. Long enough that I'd started to hope—stupidly, desperately—that maybe she'd forgotten about me. That maybe I could stay here forever, suspended between two worlds, belonging to neither but safe in the space between.

The pull came again, stronger. Insistent.

My body moved before my mind agreed to it, muscle memory from a lifetime of answering when the matriarch called. I slipped from my hammock with the predatory grace I usually suppressed, silent as water, and made my way above deck.

The night watch was at the bow. I went stern, where the shadows pooled deepest.

The ocean stretched black and endless beneath a sliver of moon. Somewhere out there, Thessa waited.

I could refuse. Could go back below, curl up in my hammock, pretend I hadn't felt the summons.

And she would come for me. Would surface alongside the ship, all silver hair and black pearl eyes, and reveal exactly what I was to every man aboard.

Including Kael.

My hands tightened on the rail. The wood was warm from the day's sun, still holding heat while the wind cut cold across my skin.

Three hours until dawn, I'd whispered, holding him while he slept. Three hours until I have to face what I've become.

I'd thought I had more time.

I checked that the watch was still occupied, then slipped over the rail with barely a splash.

The water welcomed me home like a lover. Like a cage.

My body remembered what it was supposed to be the moment I submerged. The awkward human movements fell away, replaced by something ancient and perfect and utterly inhuman. I dove deep, letting the pressure build around me, and swam.

The sea cave was two miles from where the ship anchored. I'd scouted it weeks ago, back when I still reported regularly, back when I'd thought of myself as a spy with a clear mission instead of a traitor who couldn't decide which side she was betraying.

Thessa waited in the shallows, her lower half still in the water.

Even expecting her, the sight stole my breath.

She was beautiful the way a blade was beautiful. All sharp edges and lethal grace, her silver-white hair floating around her like a crown of foam. Her skin held the same iridescent sheen as mine, but stronger—she'd never tried to hide what she was. Never wanted to.

Her eyes, black as the deepest trenches, fixed on me with an intensity that made me want to bare my throat in submission.

I surfaced instead, pulling myself onto the rocks with as much dignity as I could manage.

"Matriarch."

"Maris." Her voice was silk over steel. "It's been some time since we spoke."

"The mission required deep cover. I couldn't risk—"

"Six months." She cut through my excuse like it was nothing. "Six months aboard a human vessel, and you have yet to retrieve what I sent you for."

The temperature in the cave dropped. I could see my breath misting in the air, could feel the cold radiating from her like she'd brought the deep ocean with her.

"The artifact is protected," I said carefully. "The captain keeps it in his quarters. Under guard. I've been building trust, establishing—"

"Trust." Something that might have been amusement flickered across her perfect features. "Is that what you call it?"

My skin prickled. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" She tilted her head, studying me like I was a specimen under glass. "You sleep above his quarters now. The crew has noticed how he looks at you. How you look at him."

"I'm doing what needs to be done. You said to get close to him, to—"

"I said to retrieve the artifact." Her voice cracked like a whip. "Not to play at being human. Not to forget what you are."

The scent of ozone intensified, making my eyes water. I forced myself to hold her gaze.

"I haven't forgotten."

"Haven't you?" She rose from the water fully now, and I saw her true form rippling beneath the surface of her skin—scales and talons and teeth. The predator she'd been for centuries, long before humans ever sailed these waters. "Tell me, Maris. When he touches you, do you remember you're supposed to be his death? Or do you pretend you're one of them?"

Heat flooded my face. "He doesn't touch me."

"But you want him to." Not a question. A statement of fact, delivered with surgical precision. "I can smell it on you. Human wanting, human weakness. You reek of it."

I dug my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood. "My methods are my own. You sent me because I could pass as human. That requires—"

"I sent you because I thought you were smart enough to use their attraction against them without falling prey to it yourself." She moved closer, and every instinct I had screamed at me to run. "I'm beginning to think I was wrong."

"You weren't." The words came out harder than I intended. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" She was close enough now that I could see the inhuman pupils of her eyes, slitted like a shark's. "Then why is the artifact still on that ship? Why hasn't it been delivered to me?"

"Because it's not just an artifact." The words burst out before I could stop them. "It's a tomb. His brother's soul is trapped inside. If I steal it—"

"His brother." Thessa's laugh was cold enough to freeze blood. "You've started to care about human grief. How touching."

"You didn't tell me what it was," I said. "You said it was a weapon that threatened our territory. You didn't say it was—"

"Does it matter?" She leaned in, and I could feel the power rolling off her in waves. "A human died. Humans always die. They're mayflies, Maris. Brief and bright and utterly insignificant in the span of our lives. You've let yourself forget that."

"I haven't forgotten anything."

"Then prove it." Her hand shot out, gripping my chin with bruising force. Her nails—talons, really—pricked my skin. "One lunar cycle. That's all the time you have left. Retrieve the artifact and bring it to me, or I'll come get it myself."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "And the crew?"

"What about them?"

"If you come yourself, they'll—"

"Die." She said it simply, like she was discussing the weather. "Every last one of them. Is that a problem?"

I thought of Bones, with his quiet watchfulness and his woodcarvings. Of the crew who'd slowly, cautiously accepted me over six months. Of Kael, sleeping in my arms, finally vulnerable after carrying his grief alone for so long.

"No," I lied. "No problem."

Thessa studied me for a long moment, those black pearl eyes seeing far too much.

"You're wondering why I want it retrieved rather than destroyed."

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"The artifact is dangerous," she said. "In the wrong hands, it could—"

"You're lying."

The words hung in the air between us like a blade.

Thessa went very, very still.

"Excuse me?"

I should have backed down. Should have apologized, submitted, played the obedient soldier. But something in me—the part that had never quite fit with the other sirens, the part that had gotten me sent on this mission in the first place—refused.

"You're hiding something," I said. "The real reason you want it. This isn't about protecting our territory. It's something else."

For a moment, I thought she would kill me. Her hand was still on my chin, and it would take nothing—less than nothing—for those talons to tear out my throat.

Then she smiled.

It was worse than her anger.

"You're right," she said softly. "I am hiding something. And you're going to retrieve that artifact anyway, because if you don't, I'll make sure everyone you've come to care about on that ship suffers for your failure. Starting with your captain."

She released me, stepping back into the water.

"One lunar cycle, Maris. Don't disappoint me again."

She dove, and the cave was suddenly empty except for me and the sound of water dripping from the rocks and the thundering of my own pulse.

I sat there for a long time, trying to remember how to breathe.

Trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do.

The artifact wasn't just dangerous. It was something Thessa wanted badly enough to lie about, to send me undercover for six months, to threaten the people I—

No. I couldn't finish that thought. Couldn't acknowledge what those people had become to me.

What he had become to me.

I dove back into the water and swam for the ship, my mind churning.

One lunar cycle. Twenty-eight days to choose between my people and... what? A crew of pirates? A captain who looked at me like I was salvation and damnation wrapped in skin?

A man whose brother's soul I'd been sent to steal?

The ship's hull appeared through the dark water like a ghost. I surfaced silently, timing my movements with the waves, and caught the rope ladder that hung from the stern.

My arms shook as I climbed. From exertion or emotion, I couldn't tell.

I was halfway over the rail when a voice cut through the darkness.

"Going for a swim?"

I froze.

Kael stood ten feet away, leaning against the mast with his arms crossed. The moonlight caught the sharp planes of his face, turning him into something carved from shadow and silver.

How long had he been there? How much had he seen?

"Couldn't sleep," I said, dropping to the deck with studied casualness. Water streamed from my clothes, pooling at my feet. "Needed to clear my head."

"Funny." He pushed off the mast, moving toward me with that predatory grace that made my pulse spike for entirely different reasons than Thessa had. "I couldn't sleep either. Came up to check the watch and found your hammock empty."

He was close now. Close enough that I could smell him—leather and gunpowder and amber, warm and dangerous and utterly human.

Close enough to see the way his eyes tracked over me, taking in my soaked clothes, my wet hair, the water still dripping from my skin.

"How long were you gone, Maris?"

"Not long. Twenty minutes, maybe."

"Try two hours." His voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. "I've been up here for two hours, waiting for you to come back."

My heart stuttered. "I lost track of time. The water was—"

"Don't." He took another step closer, and suddenly there was no space between us at all. Just his body and mine, separated by soaked fabric and lies and the desperate, aching want that had been building for six months. "Don't lie to me. Not right now."

I could feel the heat of him despite my wet clothes. Could feel my body responding to his proximity the way it always did—pulse quickening, breath shortening, every nerve ending suddenly, painfully alive.

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are." His hand came up, and I thought he would touch me—wanted him to touch me with an intensity that bordered on pain—but he stopped just short. His fingers hovered near my cheek, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his skin. "You've been lying since the moment you stepped aboard my ship. I've known it from the beginning."

The words hit like a physical blow. "Kael—"

"I don't care." His voice was rough, raw. "That's the fucked up part. I know you're hiding something. I know I should throw you overboard or lock you in the brig or do literally anything except this. But I can't. Because wanting you has become more important than reason or safety or any of the things that have kept me alive this long."

His hand finally made contact, fingers sliding along my jaw, and I stopped breathing entirely.

"So I'm asking you now, while I still have enough sense left to ask instead of demand: where did you go?"

I should have had a lie ready. Should have prepared for this exact scenario.

But all I could think about was Thessa's talons on my skin and her threat hanging in the air and the way Kael was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Starting with your captain.

"I can't tell you," I whispered.

Something flickered in his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or resignation.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

His thumb traced my cheekbone, and the gentleness of it made my chest ache.

"Will it get my crew killed?"

"I don't know." The honesty felt like bleeding out. "I hope not."

"Will it get you killed?"

The question caught me off guard. I'd expected him to ask if I was a threat. If I was working for his enemies. If I was planning to betray him.

Not if I was in danger.

"Possibly," I managed.

His jaw tightened. "That's not an acceptable answer."

"It's the only one I have."

We stood there in the moonlight, his hand on my face, my heart hammering against my ribs. Water dripped from my clothes onto the deck, each drop loud in the silence.

"I meant what I said before," he said finally. "In my quarters, when I told you about Finn. I don't trust easily. Don't let people in. But you..."

He trailed off, and I watched him struggle with words that didn't come naturally to a man who commanded through action rather than confession.

"You're different," he finished. "You've been different from the start. And I need you to tell me if I'm a fool for believing that means something."

Yes, I should have said. You're a fool. I'm a siren sent to steal the artifact that holds your brother's soul, and everything between us is built on lies.

But Thessa's words echoed in my head: When he touches you, do you remember you're supposed to be his death?

And the terrible truth was that I didn't. When he touched me, I forgot everything except the wanting. The desperate, aching need to be something other than what I was.

To be someone who deserved the way he looked at me.

"You're not a fool," I said, and felt the lie settle in my bones like lead. "It means something."

His eyes searched mine, looking for the truth I couldn't give him.

Then he leaned in, and I thought—hoped, feared—that he would kiss me. That he would finally close the distance that had been killing us both for months.

Instead, his lips brushed my forehead, gentle and devastating.

"Go below," he said quietly. "Get dry. We'll talk more in the morning."

He stepped back, and the loss of his heat felt like drowning.

I made myself move toward the hatch, every step an exercise in willpower.

"Maris."

I turned.

He was silhouetted against the moonlight, beautiful and dangerous and utterly, heartbreakingly human.

"Whatever you're running from," he said, "whatever you're hiding—I'll protect you from it. You know that, right?"

The words broke something in me. Some last defense I'd been clinging to.

Because he meant it. I could hear the truth in his voice, see it in the set of his shoulders. He would protect me from anything.

Except the thing I actually was.

"I know," I lied one more time.

Then I went below before he could see the tears on my face and mistake them for seawater.

In my hammock, I lay awake and counted the days.

Twenty-eight until Thessa came for her prize.

Twenty-eight until I had to choose between my people and his.

Twenty-eight until everything I'd built here—fragile and false as it was—came crashing down.

Above deck, I heard Kael's footsteps pacing.

Still awake. Still watching over a crew that included someone sent to destroy him.

I'll protect you, he'd said.

I pressed my face into my hands and tried not to scream.