Chapter 6
The world reeled. Damien staggered back, his pulse hammering. My face haunted him–my eyes weeping blood, my words like a prophecy: Mermaid’s blood will bring ruin.
And he knew, deep down, that every word had been true.
The woman he had scorned, tormented, despised–she had been his salvation.
“No!” His shout reverberated off the stone walls. “Even if all of this is true, Amelia is still dead. The merfolk stole her from me. They owed us blood. They owed us revenge!”
It was an incantation, a desperate litany to shield him from the crushing guilt threatening to break him.
Lady Eleanor sat collapsed against the wall, her tears drained into silence. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke.
“Merfolk are gentle. They do not harm humans. I will never believe they killed Amelia. Think, Damien–three years you held Seraphina prisoner. Did she once raise a hand against you? No. She saved you, even as you destroyed her.”
Her words were knives. Damien had no answer.
Memories surfaced unbidden: our wedding, my laughter, the warmth of my smile. He had once been captivated by me. Yet even
then, he had already known I was a mermaid. His love had been poisoned by vengeance.
What had been the point of his cruelty? What did he truly want? To punish me for a crime I had not committed? To hold me close even as he destroyed me?
His life had become a hollow cycle of torment and obsession.
“I did it for Amelia,” Damien whispered, though his voice shook. “I was her brother. I had to avenge her.”
But even as he said it, doubt corroded the edges of his resolve.
Driven by confusion and rage, Damien fled the manor. He ran until his lungs burned, until he reached the hospital where Isolde still lay. She was all he had left.
Or so he thought.
As he neared her chamber, voices drifted through the half–closed door. A man’s low chuckle. Isolde’s lilting laugh.
“Too bad the false pregnancy failed,” the man said. “We could have forced Damien to cast aside that mermaid once and for all.”
Damien’s heart froze. He pressed to the door, peering through the crack
Inside, Isolde lounged in a stranger’s arms–her dress askew, her hair tousled. The man kissing her neck was no noble. He was
Damien’s own chauffeur,
“Don’t worry,” Isolde murmured with a smile. “That fool believes every word I say. Just as he believes the merfolk killed his sister. He’ll never suspect otherwise.”
Damien’s breath hitched. His chest constricted, blood turning to ice.
The chauffeur’s hand caressed her hip. “And the sister? The one who… knew too much?”
Isolde’s voice grew sharp, cruel. “Liora, yes. I pushed her into the sea myself. That wretched mermaid dragged her out, but I made sure she drowned in the end. And when the guards arrived, they saw only the mermaid holding her. Perfect, wasn’t it?”
The walls spun. Damien staggered back, bile rising in his throat. The truth crashed over him like a wave.
It had never been me. It had never been the merfolk.
It had always been Isolde.
The woman he had adored, defended, exalted–she was the true murderer. And because of her lies, he had damned us both–me
Chapter 6
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It’s been a while, but I’m finding my faith
and Liora.
A red haze clouded his vision. With a roar, Damien slammed the door open.
Isolde jolted upright, her face blanching to white.
“Damien–what are you doing here?”
Her voice quavered. But Damien’s eyes burned scarlet. He advanced slowly, each step heavy with wrath.
“You killed Amelia. You framed Seraphina. You lied to me for years. And I destroyed everything I loved because of you.”
She stammered, shaking her head. “No–please, let me explain-”
But his fury was unchained. He seized her wrist and flung her from the bed. His boot crushed her hand against the floor.
With deliberate cruelty, he drew from his pocket the same silver tweezers he had once used on me. One by one, he tore the nails from her fingers as she screamed.
“You once said mermaid scales brought peace to the soul,” he hissed. “Did you ever imagine the pain? Did you ever imagine what it was like when Seraphina’s scales were ripped from her body–or Liora’s?”
Her shrieks rattled the windows. Blood stained the floor as she slumped into unconsciousness.
The chauffeur tried to flee. Damien caught him by the collar, dragging him back like prey. His fists crashed down again and again until the man lay crumpled, half–dead.
Breathing hard, Damien looked down at the ruin of them both.
And then he saw it–on Isolde’s skin, faint scales shimmering, veins rupturing beneath the surface. The curse of mermaid blood beginning its work.
Damien laughed, the sound jagged, broken. Tears streaked his face as he whispered,
“Seraphina was right. Those who harm a mermaid will suffer retribution. This is mine.”
Chapter 6
