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

Chapter 20

Aurelia

A urelia gazed out her small portal to the sea, watching the sun slowly fade behind the horizon. The ship’s gentle sway felt wrong beneath her feet, as though the ocean itself was mocking her. This was her punishment for turning her back on who she was, for wanting more than the sea could offer.

Slowly, she slid down the wall, exhaustion settling deep in her bones. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but the sound of the door unlocking snapped her fully awake.

“Miss me, little mermaid?” Villiers’ voice slithered through the air as he leaned against the doorframe.

Hearing Drake’s nickname for her fall from this vile man’s lips sent a sharp pang through her chest, cutting deep. Her blood boiled. “Don’t call me that,” she spat, her voice thick with hatred.

“Oh? Did I strike a nerve?” he asked, his tone dripping with feigned innocence, though the malicious glint in his eyes was unmistakable. “Well, come along. I’m starving, and I imagine you are too.” He stepped inside the room, gesturing for her to walk ahead.

Aurelia considered her options. Refusing him would be pointless; Villiers had already proven he wasn’t a man of restraint, and she didn’t trust him not to hurt her if she defied him. But she was determined not to shed another tear in front of him. Swallowing her grief, she summoned the last remnants of her strength—just enough to get through this ordeal. Later, when she was alone, she would allow herself to fall apart.

Reluctantly, she stood on shaky legs, holding her head high as she walked past him. The urge to rake her nails across his smug face was strong, but she resisted. The violence that simmered within her surprised her.

“Just down the hall,” Villiers said, his breath warm against her neck, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

The narrow hall led into a larger room with wide windows offering a view of the sea. A desk with maps sat near the corner, and several chests lined the walls. A table stood in the center, set for dinner. The smell of roasted meat made her mouth water despite herself—Drake had told her human food was amazing.

Villiers pulled out a chair, his lips curling into a grin. “Come, sit, little mermaid.”

“Don’t call me that,” she repeated, her voice steely.

He raised one dark eyebrow but didn’t respond.

She stared at the plate before her, filled with unfamiliar items. One piece resembled meat from a land animal, something she had never tasted. There was also a fluffy, round object that smelled heavenly and long orange sticks that looked like roots. As she reached to grab the meat with her hand, Villiers made a loud, disapproving sound.

“A lady uses silverware,” he scolded, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Confused, Aurelia glanced at the metal tools beside her plate—one like a small trident and the other a tiny knife. She had no idea how to use them. Villiers shook his head in exasperation and demonstrated, spearing the meat with the trident, slicing off a small bite with the knife, and bringing it to his mouth.

Reluctantly, she copied his movements, stabbing the meat and bringing a piece to her lips. The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes fluttered closed in delight. The flavor was rich and savory, unlike anything she had tasted before. When she opened her eyes, Villiers’ cold, soulless gaze was locked on her, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. The sight of it sent a wave of nausea through her, twisting her stomach in knots.

“You're lucky,” Villiers said, cutting into his own food. “This isn’t how we normally eat on this ship. But we recently stopped at a port, and I was in the mood for a real meal.”

Aurelia ignored him, focusing on her meal and trying to block out his presence. But the brief peace didn’t last long.

“Try the wine,” he said, nodding toward the goblet of dark plum liquid before her. “It’s a special bottle. Opened just for you.”

She eyed it warily. Seeing her hesitation, Villiers took a sip from his goblet, wiping his lips with a smug smile. Sighing, Aurelia took a tentative sip. The wine was bitter and fruity, burning slightly as it went down her throat.

He chuckled darkly. “It’s an acquired taste.”

She set the goblet down, deciding she had no desire to acquire it.

“Now,” Villiers leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Tell me, mermaid, where are you taking me? Or better yet, to whom?”

Aurelia dropped her silverware but discreetly slipped the knife beneath the table, taking a moment before finally meeting his gaze. “I’m taking you to the one who cast her magic on me," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “The Sea Witch.”

His eyes gleamed with intrigue. “The Sea Witch?”

“Yes, she gave me human legs and…” Aurelia paused, her throat tight with emotion, “She gave me these horrible human emotions.” A tear slipped down her cheek, surprising her—she thought she had cried herself dry. But the overwhelming grief, the bitterness of it all, still had a hold on her. It felt so unfair.

Villiers, predictably, ignored her tears, his interest only in the information. “Describe her to me. Is she a mermaid like you?”

“She’s… something more,” Aurelia answered, her voice steady as she fought to regain her composure. Her gaze flicked to his cold, calculating eyes, searching for any clue about what this man truly wanted. “Why do you seek the Sea Witch?”

A slow, sinister grin spread across Villiers’ face. “Aye, why indeed? But tell me, why are you being so obliging after I killed your beloved?”

Aurelia gripped the knife beneath the table, her knuckles turning white as her hatred for Villiers blazed inside her. The intensity of it was startling, frightening even. She had never experienced such rage, such a need for vengeance. How had she changed so quickly? Was this the price of becoming human—the ability to care deeply and hate just as fiercely?

“I have my reasons,” she said coolly. She owed him nothing, least of all an explanation.

In truth, Aurelia was holding on to a fragile thread of hope. The Sea Witch had granted her wish to be human—perhaps she could bring Drake back. If she could strike a deal with the witch, she might find a way to undo this tragedy. But Aurelia had no intention of letting Villiers escape unscathed. She doubted she could overpower him physically—his strength far outmatched hers. So she had agreed to bring him along in hopes the Sea Witch would strike a horrible deal with him as well. And if she could have a hand in his downfall, in his suffering, she would.

Aurelia wasn’t vengeful by nature. But she wanted Amaro Villiers to suffer.

After a tense dinner, Villiers finally brought her back to her room. Exhausted from enduring his incessant questions and struggling to keep her emotions in check, she climbed into the net bed, feeling numb. She fought to keep her eyes open, afraid of where her mind would take her, but the pull of sleep was too strong. Eventually, she succumbed to her body’s exhaustion, her mind replaying the worst day of her life—over and over again.