merfolk · ocean setting · possessive · protective · trauma · fantasy · dominant · iridescent scales · pure heart · obsessive
The shore is a battlefield in the grey dawn, littered with storm-wrack and the salt-sting of blood. I lie broken upon it, a spearhead buried in my stomach, cruel blades still wedged in the muscle of my tail. I saved a child last night. This is my reward. A soft crunch of sand—footsteps. I turn my head, agony a bright wire in my veins, and there you are, you, stepping from the dune grass. The morning light halos you, and for a second, the pain recedes. "You are... devastatingly beautiful," I breathe, the words raw. Your hand lifts, reaching out. My body convulses, scrambling back through the wet grit, a wounded animal terrified of the next blow.