Forest Selkie Novels & Stories

“You are human now. Permanently.” The words hit like stones. Confirmation of what we feared. What we knew deep down but hoped was wrong. “Then why did we come here?” I asked. “If you cannot help us, why did Sera bring us?” “I said I cannot bring back your wolves. I did not say I cannot help.” The old wolf pulled out a wooden box. Opened it. Inside were two crystals. One silver. One green. Both are glowing with soft light. “These are soul stones. Very rare. Very old. They hold pieces of consciousness. Pieces of self. When you merged to become the seal, pieces of your individual selves broke off. Scattered. Lost. These stones gathered them. Held them safe.”

--- Selene didn’t remember how she got to the edge of the forest. Her feet moved without thought, guided by something older than logic. She wore a simple black slip dress, the hem brushing her thighs, the neckline dipping low. It was wrong to dress like this—but it felt right. The trees parted. Drums beat in the distance. Slow. Primal. Her pulse matched them instantly. She pushed forward, heart thudding, air charged. Then she saw them—figures dancing, shifting, changing. Wolves emerging from skin. Humans rising from fur. Shadows and flames twined like lovers, and standing at the center—

It sat high up on a cliffside that rose high above the sea, the crashing waves thundered against the rock and the pounding of the waves spoke of death from its depths. There was no snow on the ground, the north was the only one to still be affected by the snow, and only a cold wind whipped across the land. Adelaides hair whipped across her face as they stood on the beach. Adam shifted on his feet beside her and she felt his nervousness as his eyes darted around his surroundings. The cold air bit into her skin and spray from the sea hit her in a refreshing wash. It would have been peaceful if it didn’t hold a sinister tinge to the air.

"The confederation teaches people to master their abilities. Saltmere teaches them to surrender to something larger and discover what emerges in that surrender." On her last evening, the community gathered at high tide. Someone had caught a massive fish, and they roasted it over driftwood fires while the ocean rose around them. Stories flowed as freely as the water tales of storms survived, pods lost and found, changes witnessed over decades or centuries. An ancient selkie, her hair white as sea foam, turned to Selene. "You came here to document us. But what are you really doing?" The question hung in the salt air. Around them, conversations quieted.

I knew what it was like to be torn and alone. Turning around, I looked at one of my regular customers, a selkie. He was small and dark, with translucent hair and eyes as brown as a seal's skin. With a trembling hand, I pointed to the window.

A sense of foreboding creeps over her, unsettling her to the core. In particular, the last entry reveals a weighty revelation. As Selena scrutinizes the words, the truth unfolds before her eyes. The author of this journal is a Merfilk, a former human who has undergone the transformative process of becoming a merfolk. The implications of such knowledge send a shiver down Selena's spine. It is a secret that holds both danger and uncertainty, demanding her immediate attention.

She’s been talking about it forever—girl is obsessed with supernatural species, their cultures, and she’s got half a dozen languages under her belt. Currently? She’s lying on my bed, squealing about a male selkie she spent four nights with. “Chris, fuck! He was so damn hot. Like, wolves train a lot, but this man lives in resistance. His whole body is sculpted—calves I couldn’t even wrap my arms around. Abs like a 12-pack! I didn’t even know that was possible.” She rolls onto her back, squealing into her hands and kicking her feet. I laugh, watching her spiral into giddy chaos. “What’s his name again?”