River witch
The sea had shifted—become almost sentient, its movements no longer shaped by wind or moon, but by the hunger of something ancient and awakening.
Maya Danvers gritted her teeth and hauled the unconscious Jonas away from the splintered railing, dragging him across the tilting deck. A jagged bone—part of the torn net—had lodged in his thigh, and blood was slick beneath him. Captain Halrik Ebb had disappeared below deck, still mumbling in a half-catatonic trance.
“Sefina,” Maya hissed through clenched teeth, scanning the lurching waves.
The creature—the mouthless siren that wore her sister’s shape—was gone. Vanished into the chaos, swallowed by the very trench it had crawled from. But its prese