Chapter Text
Rafayel’s gaze flitted across the surface of the open sea. In stark contrast to his own demeanor, the ocean itself was in a foul mood tonight. Heavy, black clouds rolled in from the south, bringing with them a torrential downpour. The waves before him resembled uneven mountain peaks, the crests of each dissolving into sea foam illuminated by the cold moonlight. It was of little consequence to a creature embodied by the deep itself.
The stony protrusion atop which he rested was one of many. Its slick surface appeared flat enough for him to lounge upon as it pierced the uneven surface of the sea, but the crooked spire hidden beneath the waves posed a significant risk to any human vessel foolish enough to attempt passage. Rafayel pressed himself flat against the rock, allowing his long, dark violet hair to cast a shadow of camouflage over his muscular body. His inquisition warred once again with his predatory instincts as he watched the silhouette of the first wooden beam appear on the horizon.
Even amidst the tempest and the raindrops slicing nearly sideways against his face, Rafayel’s eyes drew the outline of the approaching ship with relative ease. This was the fourth time he had witnessed this particular ship’s passing, although he was unsure how many times before that the vessel had completed its treacherous voyage. Its human crew was wholly uninteresting to him save for one member; it was her face alone that stilled the power crackling at his fingertips when he had marked the vessel for death. Had it not been for that human, that woman, learning against the railing, he would have drowned this ship and all of its passengers.
He could smell her before he could see her. Rafayel dug his talons into the rock beneath him, slithering forward on his belly like a sea serpent. His pupils dilated as her scent wafted across the distance between them. The full force of it hit him like it had that day, and the pearlescent scales along his forearms flared. He pressed his lips into a thin line and flicked his tail once in anticipation.
Rafayel needn’t interfere on this occasion. The sea would lay its claim to the ship, that much was apparent, but he refused to let his human sink with it. The wooden hull rolled once starboard, the gangplank dipping into the ocean like a teaspoon. Rafayel drew in a breath through his nose as he watched her stumble. She appeared to be tugging on the arm of the ship’s stubborn captain, who seemingly refused to abandon his post. Rafayel couldn’t decide if he should loathe him for bringing his human along for this journey or thank the foolish captain for delivering her to him.
Thunder clapped and a bolt of lightning struck the tallest mast, splintering it with a deafening crack. Flames leapt upwards in an instant, devouring tar and timber as it spread along the sails. Rain hissed against the flames, and the scent of burning made Rafayel’s face contort in disgust as it smothered that of his lovely human. She screamed, and Rafayel launched himself from the rock, diving beneath the waves like a missile. With several hard beats of his cerulean tail against the churning seawater, he reached the ship’s keel.
The storm beat mercilessly against the upper decks, partially extinguishing the fire. Below, the flames took eager hold. The inferno unfurled along the corridors of the lower decks, consuming ornamental draperies and reducing tapestries to embers. What little air remained was snuffed out, entombing the men trapped inside the furnace.
Rafayel ignored their smothered cries for help as he swam along the length of the ship’s spine, pausing just below the surface underneath the bow. The crown of his violet hair emerged from the water as he gazed upwards. The sea surged, and another great swell lifted the hull skyward. There she was, his brave little human, poised on shaky legs against the backdrop of wind and sea spray. Another flash of lightning illuminated the soft planes of her face, and Rafayel could smell her fear as he lingered below. Her intent was clear, carved into every rigid line of her body as the wind clawed at her.
He watched as she gathered herself at the prow, resolve tightening in her limbs as the sea raged beyond. One more of her rapid heartbeats and she would have jumped. Before she could take a step further, a towering wall of water struck the ship and wrenched it sideways, the upper deck pitching violently. The deck heaved beneath her feet, tilting with a brutal indifference, and what should have been a deliberate leap became a helpless plunge.
She was torn from her foothold before the ship had a chance to right itself. Rafayel watched helplessly in horror as she was tossed against the carved bowhead, blood splattering against the relief and staining it crimson. A shrill cry tore from her as she tumbled downwards. She fell without grace, her hair and bloodied clothes snapping violently in the wind as the sea rushed up to meet her. Her limp body broke through the surface with brutal force, and the impact rippled outward in a violent shudder, swallowing her cries and dragging them under with her.
For a moment, her body lingered at the surface. Frothy sea form and scattered light from the storm above obscured her outline. Thousands of tiny bubbles raced over her skin in a frantic veil as her blood, bright and metallic, diffused into the water. One powerful sweep of his tail sent him cutting through the water, swift and silent. The ocean parted around him, unwilling to impede his claim. His webbed fingers hovered in the water a breath from her skin. Rafayel’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, up close for the first time.
From a torn seam on her shoulder, her blood leaked free in slow, silken ribbons, bright against the blue-black seawater and startling in its warmth. It moved around them like living ink, coiling and thinning as the current took it, each pulse from her frantic heart sending another plume into the sea. She fell into his waiting arms as her unconscious body began to sink, surrendering to the inevitable weight of the water.
Rafayel drew her delicate body against his chest, one arm braced beneath her knees and the other wrapped around her ribcage. He returned carefully to the surface with his prize, having gleaned from his observations that humans required air to function. He watched as her body subconsciously expelled the seawater she must have swallowed. Her warmth seeped into his cold embrace, practically burning him. Rafayel was forged from the deep; nothing from his world radiated warmth like the body in his arms.
Rain struck them from above and ran down her gentle face in tiny rivulets as he held her above the waves. He wished that her eyes were open, curious as to what color they were. Her features were striking, the tension brought on by her consciousness stripped from them. Rafayel drank in every detail of her unguarded face—the lines of her cheeks, the sweep of her dark lashes, stark against the drained color of her face. Her lips were parted slightly, breaths shallow and uncertain. His living porcelain doll. He had seen human faces before of course, but they had been distorted by terror, by death, by the last moments before the wrath of the sea closed in around them. His doll, nestled against him, held none of the fear he had scented moments before.
His gaze shifted to the troublesome wound on her shoulder. It was difficult for Rafayel to gauge just how badly she was injured. The ragged flesh where her body struck the timber disappeared underneath her torn clothing, a steady trail of bright red blood seeping through. Curiosity gnawed at him, and he dragged the sharp tip of nail from her injured shoulder across her exposed collarbone. She did not wake, but her body reacted. A thin line opened beneath his touch, another bright thread welling to the surface. Rafayel’s brilliant blue eyes closed briefly as he brought his bloody finger to his lips, parting them and swirling his serpent-like tongue around it.
Rafayel’s tongue streaked over his fangs and a low hum vibrated in his throat as he savored her. He turned onto his back, keeping her cradled securely against his chest and bracing her shoulders so that her face remained above the waves. The storm continued to lash at them, but he drifted with deliberate laziness, floating away from the wreckage with slow streaks of his tail. Behind them, the ship groaned and splintered as it sank, swallowed gradually by flame and sea. Rafayel did not look back.
Swimming through the cresting waves at the ocean’s surface was awkward. Flapping his tail fins against the water at the surface felt unsettlingly easy. He was used to traversing the deep sea, the pressure of the water far greater at those depths than it was now. He carefully shifted his human onto his back, taking her arms and wrapping them around his neck for support. Her limp body offered no resistance as he unknowingly stretched out her injured shoulder, opening the wound further and leaving behind a winding trail of crimson.
Rafayel knew these waters intimately, and he knew that his human needed to get out of the water as soon as possible. The wind shifted as he angled his body eastward. He quickly ran through the islands he had recently discovered, and Rafayel decided to bring her to the most beautiful one. He glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his little human’s hair billowing behind her like a kite, but his admiration was quickly suppressed by his rising anxiety. Her eyes were still closed, and the color had fully drained from her face, her head lolling heavily against his upper back. Was she dying? Did she strike her head, too, when she tumbled into the sea?
By the time Rafayel reached the shore, the storm had begun to exhaust itself. The horizon paled, the black storm clouds dissipating under the first rays of dawn. Rafayel quickly shifted into a form he did not occupy often, into that of a human. His tail split with a quiet, visceral tension. Bone and sinew reordered beneath his skin, fins withdrew and flattened, and muscles shorted into human legs. They felt wrong immediately. He had not walked on land in years. Water thinned around his hips, and then his waist, until the tide no longer buoyed his full weight. He stepped forward reluctantly onto the beach. The sand shifted uncomfortably beneath his feet as he trudged forward. He looked down at her once more, holding his breath as he watched the fragile rise and fall of her chest.
Rafayel crossed the narrow stretch of sand and shoal until the ground softened underneath his feet. He lowered himself slowly, easing her still body from his back. The soft grass flattened beneath her body, and he adjusted her quickly, rolling her onto her injured side. She looked so small here, removed from the violence of ship and sea. Rafayel knelt beside her, reaching out with careful fingers. Her clothes were entirely soaked through, heavy with blood and seawater. Her tattered shirt clung to the wound, and he carefully peeled it back from her skin.
The stubborn fabric caught on the edges of her wound. Rafayel adjusted his grip, stabbing a little hole through her shirt with the sharp tip of his nail, and tearing the rest of it away. He lifted the material away from her shoulder, the movement finally drawing a faint reaction from her. She stirred, and a shallow breath caught in her throat. Her brow tightened faintly, those beautiful features once again burdened by discomfort. Her fingers twitched weakly against the grass.
The wound was still open, and panic would only worsen the situation, would only strain the already fragile rhythm of her breath. He moved even closer, looming over her small figure, as his breath ghosted the shell of her ear. Her lashes quivered again and parted, and her body tensed as if poised to surface fully into pain. Rafayel’s pulse thrummed in his neck as her lids revealed the faintest glimpse of her unfocused eyes beneath. Confusion flickered across her face as her gaze found his. For a single, suspended heartbeat, their eyes were locked together.
Rafayel held her gaze as he hummed. The first note was so low that her human ears were almost unable to register it. He began to sing, the melody wrapping itself around her senses before she could recoil. The tension in her brow began to ease as his song penetrated her defenses. Her pupils widened briefly before softening, disappearing again behind closed eyelids. The melody he sang undulated and dipped, settling within her. Its pull was absolute, and her body slackened once again against the damp earth. He allowed the final note to linger, watching to ensure that there was no resistance left, no flicker of waking clinging to the surface. Only when her breathing steadied and she descended into an untroubled sleep did he allow the melody to fade.
Rafayel’s fingers brushed against her cheekbone, trailing a delicate path down her face, down the column of her neck, and across her exposed chest to her bloody shoulder. He lowered his mouth to the wound and let the saliva gather on his tongue before gently pressing it to her flesh. His lips ghosted over her skin as he traced a slow, long line along her injury, careful not to deepen it with fang or claw. The taste of her blood flared bright and metallic against his senses again, stirring impulses within him that he forced into stillness. The healing properties of his saliva began to work quietly, first stilling the bleeding and softening the inflammation. He laved another pass of his serpentine tongue over her flesh, and the edges of her skin began to reluctantly pull towards one another, sealing the rift.
Satisfied it would hold, Rafayel pressed a gentle kiss to the faint scar and leaned back to evaluate his work. He was not sure which parts of the body humans consider offensive, but he tried to cover her body with what shreds of fabric were left behind.
He rose and took several steps back, noting the uneven ground beneath her. It pressed too harshly against her frame for his liking. Pacing stiffly on borrow legs, he explored the shaded edge of the island where, beneath the shelter of twisted brush, thick moss clung to a stone in dense, dark swaths. He crouched and gathered it carefully.
When he returned to her side, he knelt once more and carefully slid one arm underneath her shoulders. Even unconscious, her body radiated such warmth that it was difficult for Rafayel not to linger. He raised her from the ground just enough so that he could slide the pillow of moss underneath her head.
He lingered for only a moment longer beside her. Dawn had fully broken now, thin light stretching across the island’s greenery. Rafayel returned to the surf, the sea reaching for him with shallow laps against his ankles as he allowed his body to return to its natural form. Skin rippled as scaled surged back into place, shimmering in the nascent sun. He slipped beneath the surface, the arc of his tail visible for only a moment before it disappeared under the water.
He remained in the water nearby as the day unfolded, the sun climbing slowly and burning away any last remaining remnants of the storm. Warmth spread across the island, drying wet stones and drawing mirages up from the sand in the horizon. The tide shifted in patient rhythms against the reef, and Rafayel waited. From the shallows beyond the sandbar, he kept vigil through his veil of water.
Hours stretched as she slept. Once, she stirred faintly, hand shifting to rest against her abdomen before falling palm up against the grass. His body tensed at every movement, tail swishing impatiently in the water, ready to surge forward should she wake and call for him. By the time the sun rose high into the center of the sky, Rafayel’s patience began to wane.
His thoughts turned strange and intrusive as he watched the rise and fall of her chest. The image forming in his mind was unbidden—her delicate body bare save for the adornments he would fetch for her. Rafayel imagined the pearls against her skin, not scattered carelessly, but placed meticulously, a strand resting against the hollow of her throat, another circling her waist. The sea’s depths offered many rarities that his human would treasure.
The vision he created held his attention longer than he would care to admit. He drank in the sight of her as though she were already adorned and anointed in the essence of his homeland. Then—
She moved. It was slight, a shift of her shoulder against the bed of grass. His body stilled at once, every idle flick of his dorsal fins arrested. His muscles tensed into readiness, eyes narrowing sharply as his attention shifted back to the present. Her brow furrowed and her lips parted to exhale a faint, shaky breath. Awareness began its slow ascent behind her closed eyes. Rafayel’s trance dissolved entirely.
He rose a fraction in the water, silent and watchful. For a moment, as though she was uncertain whether the world had truly returned, she remained still. With a visible effort, she pushed herself upright, one hand pressing against the damp earth for support. The moss, slightly tangled in her hair, slipped from the back of her head and fell to the ground with a wet plop. He watched as her confusion set in, her fingers palpating the damp stain on the back of her head.
Only his eyes broke the surface now, dark with desire, as he watched her rise onto unsteady feet. She swayed, pain finding her once again, and she scanned the surface of the water, perhaps as if to look for the ship that had abandoned her. For a heartbeat, she saw nothing but reflected light, almost too bright for her weary eyes to tolerate. She blinked several times. The wreckage was nowhere to be seen, the storm had vanished, and only a brilliant, azure stretch of ocean remained.
The surface of the ocean shifted, a dark figure lingering just beyond the breaking of the waves. The world seemed to narrow to a singular point of contact as she squinted. His little human began to tremble as their eyes met. The wind whipped her hair across her face, but she did not look away. Away from the ancient, fathomless look in the depths of his glowing irises. Away from the iridescent fins radiating away from his face where his ears should be, from the strange, colorful markings that swirled up and down his chiseled torso.
Her eyes traced down the length of his massive frame to what she imagined was concealed beneath the surface of the water. His expression shifted as he lifted his tail from the sea in an unhurried arc. It rose behind him like a banner, scales refracting the daylight overhead. He let it crest as it held her attention, and she understood the display instantly.
She had been rescued by a siren, and he would never let her go.