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The sea never forgot.
Neither did Elias Graves.
It had been seven days since the sirens claimed his crew. Seven days since he had heard their song slither into his bones, whispering of love, of peace, of home. Seven days since he had driven a dagger into a siren’s flesh, marking himself as a man who defied the sea.
And now, the sea wanted vengeance.
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A Ship of Ghosts
The Nightwind drifted under an overcast sky, her sails tattered, her deck eerily empty. Elias had survived, but at a cost—his ship was a floating graveyard, haunted by the weight of his failures.
At night, he swore he heard them.
Jonas. Reed. The others.
Their voices rustled like wind in the rigging, their laughter echoed in the hollow creaks of the wood. Sometimes, he glimpsed their shadows between the masts, flickering like candlelight before vanishing into the dark.
But ghosts weren’t the worst of it.
The sirens had not forgotten him.
Every night, they came.
Not with their song—but with silence.
Elias would wake to find the sea around him still as glass, the air thick with something unseen. Shapes moved beneath the surface—watching. Waiting.
One night, he found a gift on the deck.
A silver-scaled heart, still beating.
He had cast it into the sea, but the message was clear.
They were coming for him.
The Voice in the Fog
On the eighth night, a fog rolled in—thick and suffocating. It swallowed the sky, turning the world into an endless white void.
Elias stood at the helm, gripping the wheel with trembling hands.
He wasn’t alone.
Soft footsteps echoed on the deck.
Slow. Deliberate.
A figure stepped out of the mist—a woman, or something pretending to be one.
She was breathtaking.
Long silver hair clung to her damp skin, and her black eyes gleamed like polished pearls. She wore a tattered sailor’s coat over bare shoulders, the fabric dripping saltwater onto the deck.
Elias knew her.
The siren he had wounded.
She smiled, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. “You took something from me, Captain.”
Elias’s grip tightened. “You took more from me.”
She tilted her head, amused. “Did I?”
She stepped closer, and the fog thickened, curling around her like living smoke. Her voice was softer now, almost… gentle.
“I can give them back, you know.”
Elias froze.
Her lips curved into something almost human. “Your men.” She took another step forward. “I can return them.”
His heart pounded. A lie. It had to be.
And yet—
Jonas’s voice whispered in his mind. Captain—help me.
Elias clenched his jaw. “They drowned.”
“They were taken.” The siren’s gaze was unblinking. “There is a difference.”
The fog swirled around him, heavy with the scent of the sea.
“You don’t have to be alone, Elias.” She reached out a pale hand. “Come with me.”
His pulse thundered. He knew what would happen if he touched her.
But what if—what if she wasn’t lying?
What if his men were still there, trapped beneath the waves?
His fingers twitched.
The siren’s smile widened.
Just one step.
Elias inhaled sharply—and drove his dagger into her palm.
She screamed, the fog shattering like glass. The ship rocked violently, and the sea roared to life, waves slamming against the hull.
The siren’s black eyes flashed with fury as silver blood dripped from her hand.
“You dare—”
Elias stepped back, breathing hard. “I dare.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her perfect features twisting with something that wasn’t quite human anger.
Something deeper.
Something almost like… hurt.
“I should have let you drown,” she whispered.
And then—she was gone.
The Siren’s Vow
The fog retreated, leaving only the endless night. The sea quieted, the whispers fading.
But Elias knew this was not the end.
She would return.
She would always return.
The sirens had marked him, and the sea never forgot.
He had survived this time.
But no man escaped the sirens forever.
And when they came for him again—
He wasn’t sure he would resist.
ns 15.158.61.17da2
