Chapter 6 Vanessa

I lost my tail.

In less than twenty-four hours—twenty-four measly hours—I managed to lose the damn thing that ties me to the sea, to my origins, to my soul. Now here I am, slumped in a chair that’s too hard, in a dimly lit corner of a bar reeking of booze and testosterone, feeling the void where shimmering scales and freedom used to be.

Frustration pulses through me like a high tide in a storm. It’s hot, dense, suffocating. Rage dances alongside it, bubbling like the underwater volcanoes I knew as a child—dangerous, chaotic, intense. It climbs my throat, crashes against my tongue, begging to burst out as a scream, a roar, anything to untie this knot in my stomach.

I fled my home to escape a diplomatic marriage to a possessive man who saw me as a political trophy. But now I’m trapped by a werewolf who demands the most absurd thing on the planet. Love.

I glare at Romeo, who’s behind the bar, chatting with a gaggle of girls fawning over him. I watch in disbelief. Seriously, why does he want me to love him when he’s got a whole harem throwing themselves at him? The land-dweller world is so weird, with customs that are just too bizarre.

The bar’s getting busier. The music cranks up, and Rael, Violet, and Romeo are swamped with orders at the counter. Their dynamic impresses me—a perfect sync, a blend of friendship and professionalism I’ve never seen before.

I’m so caught up watching them that I don’t notice a male approaching. He sidles up, not with bad intentions, but sneaky all the same.

“Hey, never seen you here before. Tourist?” he asks, his voice smooth, almost melodic. He plops into the empty chair across from me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Yeah, I am,” I lie, flashing a polite smile and leaning back.

This guy’s pleasant enough, nothing like Romeo’s infuriating beauty. I glance at the bar. Romeo’s eyes are locked on us, his jaw moving slowly, tense, his brow furrowed like he’s trying to figure out if I’m flirting or just being polite. I shrug. Whatever.

“You’re gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?” the guy offers, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

I nod, still curious about land-dweller interactions. He gets up and heads to the bar. But he doesn’t come back.

Romeo serves him. They exchange a few words. I can’t hear what’s said, but the guy’s expression shifts. He swallows hard, gives a quick nod, and walks off without so much as a glance my way.

I don’t get it. But I let it slide. Until it happens again. And again. And again.

Every time a guy comes over, offers a drink, tries to start a conversation, it’s the same pattern. They go to the bar and vanish afterward. No goodbye, no wave. Just gone. Like they’ve been scared off by some menacing shadow.

My patience drains like water through a sieve. I stand abruptly and storm to the bar, eyes narrowed, blood boiling. I weave through dancing bodies, loud laughter, and overpowering perfumes. I plant myself in front of Romeo, who’s playing innocent.

“What are you doing?” I snap at him.

The alpha flashes a grin that makes me want to punch his face.

“What’re you talking about, my golden fish?” he asks, feigning confusion with a mocking glint in his eyes that makes me want to scream.

“Why does every guy who offers me a drink never come back to my table?”

Romeo pours a beer and hands it to a customer beside me.

“Oh, that. Well… I just tell them if they go back to that table, I’ll rip their junk off with a bottle and feed it to the sharks,” he says, pride dripping from his voice.

My eyes widen at his threatening words. Even the customer next to me, barely paying attention, chokes on his drink, coughing in shock at the casual violence in Romeo’s tone.

“You can’t do that!” I fire back, furious. “I’m not yours!”

He leans over the counter, closing the distance between us like it’s the most natural move in the world, his eyes locking onto mine.

“I’ve got something very precious that says otherwise, my little fish,” he retorts with a smirk.

Without thinking twice, I grab the beer from the guy next to me, feeling the cold liquid slosh against the glass, and fling it in Romeo’s face. He’s drenched. The beer runs down his face, soaking his blond hair, dripping along his jaw, falling from his chin. And me? I feel a tiny spark of satisfaction. A flicker of vengeance amid my inner chaos.

Romeo wipes his face with his hand, his jaw tightening. He stares at me with those ocean-blue eyes, and I sense a storm brewing in them. I don’t stick around to see his reaction, whatever it might be. I turn from the bar and head for the exit, catching a few stares from people who saw my stunt. My face burns with embarrassment, but I ignore it.

The moment I step outside, the cold night air hits me, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

What a nightmare! I can’t stay here another second! I can’t be near Romeo! With no real options for where to go, I just head toward the beach.

The streets are alive. People come and go, laughter rings out, and the air’s thick with the smell of booze, sweat, and fried food. Every bar I pass has its own music, its own party. But none feel as… magnetic as Romeo’s. Like all paths lead back there.

I walk until I reach the spot where Romeo found me this morning. I stare at the vast, dark ocean, and I can’t feel my connection to it anymore. There’s an emptiness in my chest, and it breaks me. I sink onto the sand and start to cry.

I was so stupid! I shouldn’t have transformed. I should’ve just fled as far from Maik as I could, to some deserted island, but never to the shore, never near land-dwellers.

“Hey, you okay?” a male voice says behind me.

I turn to see a man approaching. He stands a few feet away, a shadow outlined by the streetlights and the moon’s faint glow reflecting off the calm waves. The light reveals just enough to show the shape of his face, a hint of a smile that doesn’t match the night’s mood.

I wipe the tears staining my cheeks with one hand and straighten up, standing tall.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Something happen to you?” he asks, his tone more curious than concerned.

“No, I’m good,” I reply, starting to walk, putting more distance between us.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be out alone like this. It’s dangerous…” he says, following me.

With every step I take, he keeps pace, like he’s playing a game of mirroring my movements. The sound of his feet in the sand blends with my own quickening rhythm.

“You’re right, I’m heading home,” I say nervously, picking up my pace.

My feet sink into the soft sand, slowing me down. My heart races too fast, its beats echoing in my ears like a war drum. I try to keep the panic from spreading through me like a riptide.

I hear him sniff the air, like he’s catching my scent. My shoulders stiffen.

“You’re such a…” He trails off, inhaling deeply again. I glance at him and see his eyes shift, glowing incandescent. He’s a werewolf.

And he’s sniffing me like I’m dinner served on the sand. Like he’s savoring the scent before the bite. And I… I feel it. My body goes on high alert. A primal alarm explodes inside me.

Without thinking, I turn and run.

The sound of his breathing chases me. He’s not in a hurry, but he picks up his pace, and a laugh escapes his lips.

“No need to be scared, darling. Let’s just have a little fun, you and me. I’m sure it’ll be a blast!”