Belle Island Book 2: The River Nymph That's Dearest
Автор
C. Swallow
Прочтений
47.0K
Глав
25
Sophie, a lonely river nymph, guards the orphanage nestled deep in her swamp. Her world is filled with moss, crabs, and quiet waters—but her dreams keep whispering of a Darkness she can’t escape. Then comes Ezra, a mermaid prince chasing treasure, who discovers her instead. His charm hides secrets, and his vow to unravel hers could either spark something powerful… or unleash the very curse she fears. Between heartache and destiny, Sophie must decide if opening her guarded world to him will heal or destroy her. In the clash of water and tide, can love be trusted—or is it just another kind of storm waiting to break?
A Treasured Find
SOPHIE
Moist. Moss. And little hermit crabs. I stack them on top of one another for good luck. I always name them when I do this.
“Juniper, for healing.” I place the first crab. “Goop, for safety. Keeper, for concealment. Forest, for cover. Little broken and little dead Nemphyus, a gift for the God of Death.” Five hermit crabs stacked—they all fall off. I turn from the edge of the swamp, to the lily pads and crystal clear water, holding the body of a bloated man.
Dead.
I pull him out of the water, and onto the reeds I’ve gathered for his resting place. I am small but my strength is great.
He lies now for the bugs to eat him, land animal now resting on land.
“Good night,” I whisper as I float away, into the river beyond, back to the marshlands.
EZRA
She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. She has big amethyst eyes.
But she’s also stacking small crabs, whispering childish stories. Or maybe it is her version of a curse or spell.
Then she’s turning around, and next thing she’s hauling my dead kill out of the water, saying a sassy good night. It’s hot. It makes my cock rock hard.
She is so strange.
Little horns grow out of her head, like antlers. Her light-green hair is long and covered in river flowers. But she doesn’t have a tail. She has webbed feet?
What in the Deep…
She isn’t a mermaid.
She is something else.
I am an erebos. I like to snack on little mermaids, but I don’t know what she is, so I am hesitant to try and kill her.
My poor mother would be disappointed in my intent, but my father would be proud of how I am embracing my predatory instinct.
My ear twitches as I hear a fake birdcall behind me, my tribe calling me back.
Me and my erebos friends were looking for adventure off the ocean, so this was where we ended up settling near. A haunted swamp inland.
I walk back, silent every step.
First, I witness Merwyn lounging by a fire, his siren girlfriend sucking his dick.
I roll my eyes. He’s gloating about it with his penetrative gaze rolling over me.
Coraline never stops fawning over him. It was cute at first and now it is just annoying.
“Do you ever drain?” I hiss, mocking them both.
“You’re a fucking virgin, and a prince—don’t even try and pester me.” Merwyn rolls onto his back and makes all kinds of noises for the rest to hear and return.
“Virgin?” I try not to snort. “That’s what I want people to believe, trout dick. Cora’s licking the scales off your balls.” I smirk when Merwyn throws her off, sitting up to inspect.
“Argh, NO FLIPPING WAY.” Merwyn jumps up and walks off, cursing under his breath.
“Did you find any food?” I ask the others as they come forward from the fog, looking pale and hungry.
“No.” Titan leads them back through the reeds, my right hand and best friend. “But we tracked some humans who live in some swamp house, farther up along the river. We could eat them.”
“I’m sick of mortal blood. It’s not enough for me.” Ula settles next to me, my other best friend, although she enjoys sirens more than erebos.
“I found something else.” I smile. “Some kind of water fairy.”
“A river nymph?” Merwyn comes right back, snarling. “Those aren’t even real, Ezra. Are you seeing things now? We need to go back to the Deep.”
“She had webbed feet and small antlers.” I ignore him and tell them what I saw. “And sang to little crabs.” How amusing.
“Did you taste her?” Ula asks, almost drooling.
“No. I don’t know if she’s poisonous,” I murmur, thinking to myself that is a possibility.
“Don’t fuck with river nymphs.” Merwyn sits back down by the fire and starts to pour fresh water for us all. “They have a silent temper in the fairytales we learned. They kill with a smile.”
“So do I,” I interject. “What’s your point?”
“Strange is not the word for them,” Titan adds, more mature. “Coral mermaids are strange, but nymphs aren’t like that. They’re different again.”
“Where did you hear this anyway?” Ula hisses at Merwyn.
“Fish School, obviously.” Cora tries to cuddle with Merwyn, but he’s sick of romance, scooting away on their log.
Cora scowls possessively and curls her fingers into her palms, attempting to keep in her easy rage.
“Everyone sleep with one eye open,” Titan interjects, lying down with three sirens cuddling into his sides. “These marshlands hold many unforeseen dangers. Ezra, forget the nymph. You have a duty to stay alive. Lily will kill me if you drink poisonous blood. And Eros will kill us all. And stop wandering off without a friend.” Titan is ten years my senior and my mentor, but at times like this, I just want to abandon the tribe.
He is fun when we have fun, not when he is lecturing me on the fucking rules.
They always follow me.
I never really want their company.
But there is safety in numbers for everyone who’d fall victim to my appetite if they do not distract me from my nature.
My hunger is bloody, ravenous, and all consuming. The starvation for mermaid blood drives most erebos into weird manners as they age.
I am told it worsens from young adulthood to being fully grown.
It is my time to grow into my prime.
My own father’s stories of slaughtering across the seas are ridiculously fun.
I am just like him. With my mother’s patience.
Probably the only sweet thing about me.
I don’t like to rush with my prey.
I decide tomorrow night is a good choice.
I will hunt the river baby when I am ready.
She is clearly grown as well but acts like a simple innocent…hiding a killer instinct?
I need to see that too. Before she is dead between my razor-serrated fangs.
