Lyra Vesta
The women in my family were cursed by a witch to become mermaids on our eighteenth birthdays.
Only a deep-sea pearl, offered by someone who truly loves us, can keep us on land.
Without it, our legs would become a tail, and we would never be able to return to shore.
After my parents died, I entrusted three pearls to the people I loved most: my fated mate, Adrian, my brother, Caleb, and my childhood best friend, Noah.
I told them about the curse and asked them to give the pearls back to me on the moonlit shore, three days before I turned eighteen.
Adrian kissed my forehead. Caleb pulled me into a hug, and Noah squeezed my hand.
“Don’t worry, Isla. We’ll all be there.”
And they were.
That night, I waited on the rocks with the tide washing over my ankles. All three of them came.
But they fed the pearls, one by one, to Claire, an Omega in our pack with a weak wolf.
Color returned to her cheeks as she swallowed the last pearl. She tugged at Adrian’s sleeve.
“Thank you, Adrian, for taking care of me. Does this mean my wolf will finally grow stronger?”
Caleb gently wiped her mouth. Noah smiled at her with the tenderness I used to take for granted.
“Claire looked into it. There’s no such thing as a mermaid curse. It’s just a story you made up to get our attention,” Adrian said, staring into my eyes.
“The deep-sea pearls can strengthen her wolf. She needs them, Isla.”
The tide rose to my knees. Beneath the water, my feet began to lose their shape, and translucent scales crept up from my ankles.
They thought the curse was just a ridiculous legend and I was throwing a tantrum for attention.
They thought I’d cry for a couple of days over the pearls they’d given Claire, then forgive them as if nothing had happened.
But the curse had already taken hold.
In three days, I would return to the sea.
And we would never see each other again.