The Noble’s Merman by S. S. Genesee EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: S. S. Genesee
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
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English Channel, 1720
Blood in the water was a wonderful sight, and Mo longed to see it again.
A deep, primal urge rattled around and swam throughout his body,
taking him hostage until he gave in to the desires and satisfied the
need. It was magic, truly, pulling his mind this way and that.
The legends
said it was a unique kind of magic gifted to only the most deserving of
merfolk. Mo never quite thought he deserved it, but still, he relished in it.
The gift of his Song made him powerful.
The more he let it settle, the more it stirred inside him, wrapping around
his heart like tentacles, reaching up and into his throat, the more restless he
became until he unleashed it.
Mo swam out of his grotto home in the underwater mountain. He rolled
a boulder to block the entrance, careful so he wouldn’t pinch his forearm
fins in the process. Shielding the doorway into more obscurity was a curtain
of weaved seaweed, constructed to blend in with the rest of the weeds
climbing up the mountain’s face.
His home was not at the peak, not quite
near the base, but somewhere lodged in the middle, with half a dozen other
merfolk grottos carved out above it. A friendly neighborhood. He couldn’t
take such things for granted, when so much danger lurked elsewhere.
But as much as he appreciated his home, he never really talked to his
neighbors unless required. He kept to himself. He was certain the other
merfolk found him odd.
Thrusting his blue tail, Mo made his way toward uninhabited waters.
Well, uninhabited by merfolk. The further he swam, the more variety he
saw in the sea life. Time passed, goodness knew how long, aside from how
the sun shifted places above, gliding past the threshold overhead. He
usually had to swim far away from home to find the sort of ship he
preferred to target.
A pod of dolphins hurtled past him in a playful frenzy,
circling him and nuzzling their bottle-noses on his shoulder. It was silly—
oftentimes he felt more comfortable speaking to other sea creatures rather
than to his own kind. “Stay safe on your travels,” said the dolphins.
“And yours as well,” Mo replied.
The dolphins squinted their eyes in such a way that one could describe
as resembling a smile, and went off on their merry way. And so did Mo,
swimming up a little closer to the surface.
He had nothing on his body aside from a couple dangling necklaces,
which he found from a previous ship hunt. As he carried along, the water
was calm, steady, but not without the odd gentle current tickling his skin. A
great day to spot boats, he thought.
It happened about every couple moons—his Song would stir in his
chest. An uninvited, yet not entirely unwelcome guest that knocked on the
door of his mind, not leaving until Mo opened up and served it a meal. A
meal of carnage, flesh, and blood. It would thank him for his hospitality
with the greatest high imaginable.
If the Song knocked, he couldn’t leave it unanswered. He would always
need to open that door.
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