A melody began in my throat, reverberating through my chest as I swam forward, careful not to agitate the surface of the water. The man flipped another page in his notebook, the feather of his pen moving at a leisurely pace.

"For your dolly Polly sleep has flown. Don't dare let her tremble alone. For the witcher, heartless, cold. Paid in coin of gold." When he didn't look up, I sang the lyrics louder. "He comes, he'll go, leave naught behind, but heartache and woe."

    By the time I reached the wooden planks at his feet, he'd already flipped to another page, fully engrossed in whatever he was writing. A flicker of irritation curled in my stomach and I leaned out of the water, thinking I could maybe reach up and grab the leather book out of his hands.

    That was when he finally noticed me.

His eyes went wide, and I gave him a coy smile, beckoning him towards me with a finger. The book slipped out of his hands, splashing into the water beside me.

    "Goddamn it, poseidon. Not again," he muttered, coming down on one knee to watch his leather notebook sink into the blue depths. I was tempted in that moment to just lean up and grab his face, and pull him into the water before he had any chance to protest. Instead, I pushed back into the water and snatched up his notebook. The book was small, and I was sure any writing he'd done in it was forfeit. It was a shame.

    When I re-emerged, he was still kneeling, staring at me with a dumb-struck expression frozen onto his face.

    "A siren," he breathed.

    "A klutzy sailor," I parroted, mirroring his tone. "Is your mind equally as slow as your hands?" A wide smirk crossed his face, and he crossed his arms across his chest.

    "Never thought I'd have the pleasure of being verbally assaulted by a siren."

    I didn't usually speak to the men I killed. It ruined the mood. Men were much more interested in the fantasy of a woman, than the reality. That, and most would have tried to kiss me by now.

    I brought the book out of the water, and lifted it up to him. He gave me a strange look, but didn't say anything, reaching for his notebook. At the last second, I yanked my hand back, and he stumbled, nearly pitching into the water. He tried again, but I swam a few inches backward, and his hand closed around cool air.

    "I'll give it back to you, if you do something for me," I said, waving his book under his nose.

    "I'm not getting into the water," he said. "Sorry lass, you'll have to find someone else to drown."

    "I don't want to drown you," I said, the lie rolling easily off my tongue. "All I want is a kiss. Then you can have your book back, and you'll have kissed a siren."

    With the book held tightly behind my back, I reached up with my other arm to caress the smooth skin of his cheek. Freckles, I thought amusedly. They looked out of place, on his otherwise regal looking features. Because I couldn't help myself, I ran a hand through his wind-swept brown hair. I was surprised to feel soft, silk like strands wading through my fingers, despite the humid, salty air.

    I rose up out of the water, so we were face to face. Trails of water dripped down my neck and down my collarbone, dipping into the valley of my chest, past my seashell dress, and racing down my torso. I watched, with no little satisfaction as his eyes followed the water's path down my body.

    Yet when I leaned in, he pulled back.

    "Lass, I can't have you drag me to the bottom of the ocean."

    What.

    I let go of his face, and absent-mindedly touched mine. But there was nothing wrong with my face. Two eyes, one nose, one mouth. In my bewilderment, I didn't notice the man's hand come behind my back, then snatch the notebook out of my hands. In the next moment, he was on his feet, and a pace away from the waters edge, flipping through his book with a displeased expression.

    "I'd paid good coin for waterproof ink," he muttered. "Grimshaw's got some explaining to do."

    I was still stuck on the fact that I'd been rejected. By a man. Did he prefer the other gender? Was that why he refused my kiss? No, I'd seen the heated gaze he'd given me just moments before. I touched my temple, wondering if I'd gone insane. This had never happened before.

    Not only had he turned away from my kiss, he'd also ignored my song, not looking up until I'd grabbed his boot. I narrowed my eyes, sinking deeper into the water as I assessed him. I'd been told many stories as a young guppy, but there was one that was told again and again, at every gathering and chorus.

    The story also happened to be my favorite. The tale of the little mermaid, and the prince. The prince had fallen in love with the little mermaid, promising to marry her. And when she realized he had lied, and fallen in love with another, she'd disintegrated into seafoam. It was from seafoam and heartbreak that the first sirens were born. Far more beautiful than mermaids, and born with a penchant for human souls. Male human souls.

    It didn't matter how many men we killed, or how many queens passed their tribulation, to offer yet another heartsick man to the ocean. It would never be enough to quell the hatred boiling within the little mermaid.

    The prince in that story had ruled over a kingdom named Tirulia, and possessed the family name Canmore. Only the Canmore's were unaffected by our song, or at least, that was what I'd been told. None of my sisters, nor I, had ever run into a member of the royal family. They simply did not sail, or associate themselves with pirates, of all people. It was sick, twisted that the men who most deserved to drown, remained immune to the siren's charms.

I eyed him with thinly veiled suspicion. He didn't look like a prince. He looked like a scholar. Or perhaps a book-keeper. He had that lilting drawl of a pirate, but it was mixed with a different accent. Something lighter, and more formal. Personally, I felt no hatred towards the Canmore's. After all, it had been through the actions of a Canmore that I'd been created. But I knew a dead-end when I saw one. It was a real pity, I would've given anything for a taste of his soul.

But before I could disappear back into the water, a deafening command pierced the air.

"Now!"

    My body flew backwards, something heavy slamming my left shoulder back into the water. Hard. A harpoon. Someone had shot me with a harpoon. My hands closed around smooth wood, and I yanked, but the weapon remained fully lodged within my shoulder. Bubbles clouded my vision, along with the deep red ink of my blood, slowly seeping into the water.

    My tail lashed in the water, and I felt it catch on something coarse and patterned. They'd thrown a net over me, intending to catch me like common trout. The net tightened, and the harpoon was pulled taut. Thick rope pressed against my skin, and seconds later, I was yanked out of the water and into the air.

    I gasped, my hands closing around the rope, and my tail violently thrashing against the net. The rope dug into my skin, and I knew there would be ugly, red marks left behind. My hair stuck to my face and I shivered, unprepared for the sudden temperature change.

"Haslett!" The man with the book shouted, his mouth agape. "Haslett, what the fuck are you doing?" He soon disappeared from my view, as I was hoisted over a wooden railing, and thrown onto the deck floor of the pirate ship. The shoulder with the harpoon still stuck in it, collided with the wooden planks, sending another wave of burning pain radiating down my arm and torso.

I screamed, and after several tries, finally tore the harpoon from my flesh. All around me, I could see the pirates holding their ears, blood entering the whites of their eyes at my shriek. One of them approached me with a dagger, and I shrunk back, hissing and pulling back my lips to reveal rows and rows upon sharp teeth.

"By the great cerulean sea," the man said. "It really is a bloody siren!" The others shouted at him in warning, but the man didn't listen. He took another step forward, and poked me in the ribs with his dagger.

A split second was all I needed to reach through the net and grab him by the skull to pull him close, draining the soul from his body before his next breath. Then, because the man hadn't suffered nearly enough, I snapped his neck. His soul was offensive on my tongue, tasting of rotten oysters and sandy barnacles.

Disgusted, I threw his body aside. The pirates around me had their ears covered, and some even had wax ear plugs, but it would do nothing to spare them. I opened my mouth, and the first verse of my song rang out, far too loud for any hands or earplugs to block out. One of the men pulled out his cutlass, then raked it across his throat. His body hit the deck in a sickening thud. But before the next note could leave my throat, strong arms closed around me, and a hand clamped around my mouth.

In the mayhem, I hadn't noticed the man from earlier had run back onto the main deck, and snuck behind me. Another blood-curdling scream ripped from my throat, and I bit down onto his hand, as hard as I could. Warm blood spurted into my mouth as I tore into the flesh of his palm and thumb. He didn't move. His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me still. My nails ripped into the fabric of his sleeves, and shredded the flesh of his forearms as I attempted in futile attempts to pull his arms off of me.

"Haslett!" the man shouted. "You dumb fuck! What were you thinking?"

The other pirate, Haslett, stepped forward with what looked like a gag. "Berate me later, Lys! Catch!"

He didn't even try to catch the gag, instead tightening his grip on me.

"I don't want to hurt you, nor do I want to gag you. If you promise not to sing, I won't take away your ability to speak."

His grip on me was painfully tight, and after a couple more seconds of struggle, I relented, falling limp against his chest. When Lys was sure I wasn't going to attack him again, he let go of my mouth. He didn't, however, let go of my waist, and I knew if I sang again, his hand would come over to cover my mouth, no matter how bloody or torn it was.

"We're throwing her back into the water," Lys said from behind me, his voice strained with what sounded like barely contained fury. "Haslett, this is beyond reckless. Even by your fucked up standards."

I relaxed slightly, knowing the man behind me, Lys, didn't want me on this ship either.

"Lys, this is exactly what we've been–" the pirate's words died away, fading to nothing but white noise when I saw what was happening to my tail. My tail was melting. I was melting. Another wail left my mouth, but it wasn't one of fury. Horror overcame me, when I realized my tail was shrinking and morphing. Turning into human legs.

My beautiful, pink seashell scales fell off, one by one, revealing fleshy human skin underneath, wrapped in a layer of goo and more skin. It was disgusting. I was disgusting. No one had told me this would happen. None of my sisters, none of the sirens, had said anything about human legs. I reached up to cover my mouth, feeling the sudden urge to vomit. My lovely rose and coral dress was now in tatters, stained completely by blood. Just the sight alone made me want to cry.

The pirate ship went utterly quiet. Maybe it was the sight of my human legs, or the fact that I was almost completely naked, or the realization that they'd nearly brought a siren to tears. I clenched my teeth, and the urge to cry disappeared immediately. My tears were too good for them. I would not waste tears on ugly pirate brutes.

Lys let go of me, and I felt the heavy net lift off me. Moments later, something scratchy and warm covered my body. Lys had taken off his tunic, and wrapped me in it.

"What are you bloody-lot looking at? Get back to work!" Lys shouted. Shuffling feet and soft aye-aye's filled the air next, and I shut my eyes, hoping that when I opened them, I'd still be in my bedroom back in Anthemoessa. The fabric of his shirt irritated my skin, nothing like the soft seaweed and shells of my own clothing. He lifted me into his arms, and I let him carry me, too tired to fight back.

*Authors note*

Summer has been A LOT busier than I anticipated (I feel like a fool for not seeing this coming, I was the one who literally staked my plate) but its been good!

Writing has been slow lately, but it's picking back up! Doing developmental edits on a different novel, and holy shit I thought drafting was the hardest part of novel writing. I'm never going to complain about drafting again. 🙏🙏🙏

Anyways, thanks for reading!! :DD <3