Page 153 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

Braymore Bay’s water stretched out before us, a mirror of orange and gold beneath the setting sun. I leaned against the pristine teak railings of the yacht, focused on the perfectly still surface below.

Move. Just… move.

Nothing happened. Not even a ripple.

Beside me, Seb cut an absurd figure against the peaceful maritime scene. While I’d opted for shorts and a light jumper, he stood rigid in his black coat and waistcoat, clutching an umbrella like some Victorian gentleman on a pleasure cruise. The sight nearly broke my concentration.

“You look ridiculous,” I said.

“I’m a vampire next to the world’s most reflective light source.”

“It’s sunset.”

“UV rays are surprisingly persistent.” He twirled the umbrella.

I opened my mouth to mock him some more, but then my phone buzzed.

Rory

We miss you, Selkie. Come back to London. Plus, there’s more work for the rest of us if Noctule is skiving on holiday with you. We don’t like it.

Hearing my Killigrew Street codename still brought a smile to my face every time. A moment later, another message popped up.

Priya

Ignore Terrier. Keep Noctule away for as many days as possible. God knows that man needed a break after twenty years.

When Seb had booked our flights to Ireland, insisting that he had a surprise for me, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

Last night, we’d met Tom for a drink at the pub. Good fortune, really—he was back from the yachting circuit for a month. I’d thought it was going to be super awkward for sure, but it was surprisingly easy. Maybe because Tom couldn’t stop grinning at how happy I looked. “You found your person,” he’d said later, pulling me into a bear hug that smelled of sea salt and engine oil. “Even if he is a bit… posh.” The way he’d whispered that last word, like Seb’s skinny tie was somehow scandalous, had made me laugh until my sides hurt.

Then, the next morning, we’d walked the familiar paths of Braymore Bay, past weathered fishing cottages and the old pub where I’d spent countless nights. The late autumn air carried that particular mix of salt and seaweed I’d grown up with, and gulls wheeled overhead, their cries echoing off the cliffs. Everything was exactly as I remembered, yet somehow smaller. Though still as lovely.

The harbour came into view, its ancient stone walls dark with centuries of spray, fishing boats bobbing gently in their moorings like they always had. Except there, gleaming among the working vessels like a swan among ducks, floated a brand new yacht.

I’d almost had fucking a heart attack.

The Selkie’s Heart.A Hallberg-Rassy 40C—my absolute dream boat. It was a battle not to wet myself in excitement.

Once I’d stopped crying, we had to leave my new baby to meet Mum and Katie on the beach. Katie’s new boyfriend even joined us—she wasted no time after she kicked Connor to the curb, and it was instantly obvious Greg was a massive upgrade.

It had been a lovely afternoon with them, though they were confused by my continued insistence on sitting by the large sea wall that offeredshade. Mum had been utterly charmed by Seb—especially when he’d asked for her recipe for her legendary chocolate cake so he could make it for my birthday.

Katie kept shooting me suspicious looks, no doubt wondering how my boyfriend could casually drop half a million pounds on a yacht for me. I caught her mouthing “gangster?” at me behind his back more than once.

Then Seb offered to invest in her florist business, and her whole demeanour changed. Funny that. One mention of expanding into wedding planning and high-end events, and suddenly Seb wasn’t a potential crime lord anymore—he was a “savvy businessman” with “excellent taste.”

Both of them were slightly sad that it was clear I’d remain in London now, even though they could see how happy I was. But I had plans—proper ones, for the first time in my life. I’d enrolled in a Royal Yachting Associationcourse, working on becoming a fully qualified sailing instructor. Teaching kids to sail on the Thames, passing on that same joy I’d found on the water, was something I was excited to do.

I’d left Rising Dough behind too, though not alone. It hadn’t taken much convincing to get Emma to jump ship with me to Fat Cat’s. The regular stream of Killigrew Street Hotel customers, with their tendency to tip generously, meant she was earning almost double what she made before. Plus, she got to see Priya most mornings, their lingering conversations and shared smiles becoming quite the entertainment source for the rest of us.

I turned back to the ocean, trying once more to channel whatever spark of power had awakened during Magdalena’s ritual. I was determined that my connection to the water hadn’t been a fluke, that it had left me Gifted. Though my ability to influence water had been extremely temperamental so far. I was possibly on track for the world’s most underwhelming party trick. I could certainly give Priya’s teaspoon telekinesis a run for her money.

A small puddle had collected on the deck from earlier. I stared at it, willing it to move with all my might. The surface trembled slightly.

“Did you see that?”

“Might have been the wind,” Seb said carefully.

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