The Tides of Loss and Longing (Love from the Deep #1)

Chapter 3

Drake

D rake didn’t know what he expected the mermaid to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. She was petite with a heart-shaped face framed by long, cascading locks of pink hair. Her skin was pale as if it rarely saw the sun and shimmered faintly when streaks of light touched it. As she swam closer, studying him in return, he locked eyes with her, immediately captivated by their unnaturally bright turquoise hue. They were mesmerizing. Her gaze was framed by a gently sloped nose and soft, pouty pink lips. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Human-like, yet undeniably otherworldly—humans simply didn’t look like this.

Drake had heard stories from sailors who caught glimpses of merfolk, though it was rare. They were always described as uncannily beautiful, human-like, but distinctly not human. He had never fully grasped what that meant, but now he understood completely.

Then he noticed she was glaring at him, agitatedly brushing a pink lock of hair behind her pointed ears. His gaze traveled down the slope of her neck, and he paused at the sight of gills along the sides. His eyes drifted lower, and Drake tried not to notice that her only covering was her hair, which just barely obscured her breasts. He could still see the faint pink of her nipples peeking through. She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up, and he couldn’t hide his interest.It had, after all, been far too long since he’d last seen a naked woman, he reasoned.

“I do not appreciate you rummaging through my things!” she exclaimed, her voice sharp with anger.

Drake stumbled back a step, startled. “You speak English?” he asked, genuinely surprised. He had never heard of anyone conversing with the merfolk.

“O—of course!” She averted her gaze, staring down at the water.

Drake narrowed his eyes. She was nervous and uncertain. If he wanted answers, he’d have to approach her cautiously. Clearing his throat, he tried to soften his voice, which had become coarse from thirst. “Is this your grotto? Your treasure?”

The mermaid met his gaze with a flicker of determination. “Yes. Please, keep your hands to yourself.”

Sensing an opportunity, Drake slowly approached her, carefully sitting just where the water lapped at the sand. He needed her to feel safe, and his looming over her did not accomplish that. “Of course, my apologies,” he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Now tell me—where am I, and how did I end up here?”

“Oh, it’s an exciting story!” The mermaid swam closer, seemingly forgetting her weariness, resting her elbows on the shore and chin in her hands.

Drake fought to stifle a grin. She was far too trusting. Her tail flicked above the water, arching gracefully over her back, finally giving him a clear view of it.

It was magnificent .

Long and pale green, her tail was covered in iridescent scales that glittered in the sunlight. The broad fin at the end shimmered in a lighter shade, almost translucent. Catching him staring, she giggled—a soft, musical sound that reminded him of the enchanting voice from his dreams.

His gaze remained fixed on her, his mind momentarily blank as he took in the sight before him. Her bright, curious eyes locked with his, and her smile, so breathtakingly radiant, stirred something deep within him. It took every ounce of willpower to resist the urge to avert his gaze.

He was behaving like a young, besotted sailor, not like the fearsome pirate captain he was. Drake needed to get a hold of himself to regain control of the situation. With how things were progressing, he’d willingly walk into the sea and let her drag him down, happy to be near her. It was just as the old folk tales warned: mermaids captivated sailors with their beauty, luring men to throw themselves overboard, drowning just to be with them.

Drake ran a hand through his hair, clearing his mind. He was in control of the situation, he reminded himself. “Do you have a name?” he asked.

She laughed again, that cursed light musical sound. “Of course I do. It’s Aurelia. And yours?”

“You do not have a last name?”

“What is that?”

“Never mind,” Drake said, shaking his head slightly. “My name is Drake Hawthorne.”

“Drake Hawthorne,” she repeated.

“Just call me Drake.”

“Drake,” she echoed, with that damn smile again. At least she seemed more at ease with him.

“Do you often bring strange men into your secret cave of treasures, Aurelia?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. It was a leading question, but by now, he had little doubt it was she who had brought him here.

“No, this is very exciting for me! You are the first human I’ve ever met.” Her smile positively beamed now, radiating delight.

This mermaid’s face betrayed her every emotion, and he was reluctant to admit it threw him off balance. Every flicker of doubt, every spark of joy or curiosity, was laid bare for him to see. His life had been full of liars and thieves—men who kept their true feelings buried beneath layers of deceit, always calculating their next move. But not her. Aurelia’s openness was disarming, unsettling even.

“I see,” Drake said, pausing as he settled into the sandy beach. “Now, why don’t you tell me this exciting story of how I came to be in this treasure-filled cavern with a lovely little mermaid?”