Chapter 1 Human and Tritons They are all pretty basic in that aspect

I remember how it all began. I am a mermaid, radiant and full of life. Coffee is not something I indulge in—especially now that I am pregnant. I carry the child of the King Alpha, though he wasn't always a king. I recall the night I met him; I was a virgin, and he was merely a stranger—an ordinary human.

With or without Ignacio, I knew I would bloom. In my past life as a mermaid, I learned to navigate the storms and swim through turbulent waters. I understood that to be a mermaid meant to embrace the wildness of the waves, to trust in the currents of life. Only then could I find my way and realize the full potential of my being—of who I was meant to be.

The warmth of the café enveloped Isis as she sipped her coffee, the sweet aroma grounding her in the present while her thoughts danced between worlds. Faint echoes of crashing waves whispered in her ears, a distant lullaby calling to her mermaid spirit. She felt an irresistible pull, an urge to dive deep into those memories, to embrace the essence of Mishelle that lay dormant within her.

Across the room, a boy with striking green eyes continued to glance at her, as if he were piecing together a puzzle only he could see. His gaze stirred something deep within her—a recognition that transcended time and space. It reminded her of the unbreakable bonds she had forged beneath the waves, of secrets and laughter shared with her sisters, Seila and Yryhnna. Together, they had woven tales of adventure and dreams of the surface world, where the sky met the sea in a glorious embrace.

The café buzzed with life, yet for Isis, the world outside faded, replaced by the vibrant hues of coral reefs and the shimmering scales of her past. She recalled the grand feasts held in the depths of the ocean, where colorful sea creatures danced around them, celebrating the abundance of life. Food was not merely sustenance; it was a ritual of connection, a tribute to their mermaid heritage. Each dish told a story, and every flavor was a reminder of the love that flowed through the currents of the sea.

As she adjusted her hat, she felt the weight of her lineage—the legacy of Romanian royalty intertwined with the mystical and the supernatural. The Agusti had been their allies, and their pact was a testament to the delicate balance between light and darkness. Memories of her ancestors filled her mind; tales of how they navigated the treacherous waters of politics and ancient feuds while embracing the beauty of their aquatic home.

Suddenly, the boy leaned forward, breaking the spell of her reverie. “Excuse me,” he said, his accent thick yet melodic, “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. There’s something… otherworldly about you.” His words hung in the air, a bridge between their worlds.

Isis felt her heart race, a thrill coursing through her veins. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice smooth as the surface of the sea at dawn. “Perhaps I’m just a reflection of the magic around us.” She tilted her head, allowing her hair to spill like golden waves around her shoulders, reveling in the moment.

“I’m Erik,” he introduced himself, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What brings you to this winter wonderland?”

“Just a little escape from reality,” she smiled, her ruby lips gleaming. “And to find a bit of warmth where it’s cold outside.”

Erik chuckled softly. “I think you’ve found it,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “You seem like someone who carries a story, a history that goes beyond the ordinary.”

Isis felt the pull again, the intertwining of their destinies. “You have no idea,” she whispered, her mind racing with echoes of the ocean and whispers of her past. The storm within her began to settle, and she realized this connection might be part of her journey—a reminder that no matter where she swam, she was never truly alone.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, each flake a reminder of the beauty and fragility of life. Inside the café, Isis felt the warmth of possibility, a spark igniting her spirit. Just like a mermaid navigating the depths, she was ready to embrace the wildness of the waves and the beauty of what lay ahead.

But when she gazed into Erik’s eyes, she found something familiar; his eyes felt like home to her.

“Home,” she whispered, looking deeply into his gaze.

The café was a treasure trove, as full of life as the spring basins where, according to siren lore, the tears of the Goddess Isis flowed—tears that Mary Magdalene had once tasted. Mishelle had always been a different siren from her sisters; she collected old books during her visits to the human world, wandering the streets in search of bookstores as if it were a matter of vital importance. She would read until she fell asleep in a rented house near the beach, where her sister Deisy would join her, sharing stories late into the night.

Like her sisters, she was born into privilege, her mother a direct descendant of the royal mermaid family from Lemuria, owning vast territories and castles beneath the sea, in Miami, Greece, and various cities on the surface. Her father, a professional swimmer in the human world, had accumulated a great fortune as both a human and a triton. Mishelle and her sisters enjoyed life in the depths, but sometimes Mishelle longed to experience what it felt like to walk on land.

Last summer, Mishelle had started studying art history at university, driven by her need for knowledge and history. Seila did not attend university; she was a renowned stylist in the mermaid world, celebrated for her artistic makeup and creative flair. Yryhnna, their elder sister, was married to Alan, a merman and guardian of the forbidden realm of the Dark Waters. As a guardian, he thrived, and they had acquired new possessions near the Greek Islands.

I understood that Yryhnna and Alan would soon move far away, as he was being assigned to guard another sea realm. For now, Yryhnna lived close by, and I cherished the comfort of having my elder sister near.

I hurried to grab my eyeliner, crafting an Egyptian look around my eyes, while Yryhnna's melodious voice echoed through the house, calling me to hurry. Dressed in a bright red crop top that accentuated her fair skin and contrasted beautifully with her ruby-red lips and blue eyes, her long black hair cascaded down to her hips. Yryhnna was undoubtedly the most stunning mermaid I had ever known; at thirty, she looked no older than twenty. Mermaids possess a unique longevity; our bodies produce collagen and glutathione in extraordinary quantities, making the passage of time almost imperceptible. Even my mother appeared as youthful as our eldest sister.

“Hurry, little flower,” she laughed. “You’ll arrive when all the handsome guys are already taken.”

“Is that the best part of the party?” I asked, swapping my coral bra for a crop top adorned with a cascade of shiny pearls that draped across my back and ribs.

“Maybe it’s the most fun if you’re looking for a quick fling,” Yryhnna winked at me.

“Yryhnna!” I exclaimed, laughing and squinting in playful disgust.

“Come on, we all know that after a few drinks, men just want to get inside you. Humans and tritons, they’re all pretty basic in that aspect,” she explained, her sweet voice tinged with resignation.

We swam out of our house, surrounded by coral and a vibrant garden full of starfish. We searched for Seila in a cave among the rocks leading to the surface, an area where clear, sparkling water cascaded downward like a waterfall. Swimming through the rushing water, we emerged into a pool where the ocean water was trapped in small basins, bright and clear like the pearls on my crop top.

Seila, in her human form with two long, slender legs, wore a perfectly fitted satin blue dress. She was busy applying makeup for a client while another mermaid, transformed into her human form, waited beside the water, ready to have her hair styled.