Hæra stared at him, and then stared some more, at this man who’d taken her gold in exchange for clothing and an alphabet. He’d pissed himself the night they met, and now he presumed such things of her? He didn’t know what she really wanted. If someone didn’t know what you wanted, then they didn’t know you.

“My brother and I don’t love,” she said, her voice as cold as an ice floe. “We could never love humans in the way you say. Never.”

Something in Jonathan’s eyes flickered. A line appeared between his eyebrows.

“I don’t have any friends,” she said. “I don’t need them.”

“But—”

“And if I did, I wouldn’t seek them on shore.” Why did her human heart pound as if she were fighting her way through a riptide? Perhaps because it was so small, while her fear felt as big as ever. “You’re the lonely one who hides out here because you lack the resolve to leave a place where nobody wants you.”

Jonathan recoiled.

Hæra turned on her heel and stomped toward the back door. Talk about an unpleasant way to mark the turn since she’d met Sister Madeleine.

“Then what do you want?” Jonathan’s voice was raw, as if Hæra had somehow hurt him by speaking the truth. “I know what he wanted, but I don’t know about you!”

I want the storm. I want the thunder. I want…

Two sea-green eyes flashed in her memory like lightning.

Without a word, Hæra left, the door banging shut behind her. Jonathan didn’t follow.

She headed for the shore. As she did, she inhaled deeply of the sea air and sighed in relief as her strength began to return in full.

Jonathan had referred to what happened when she came inland. The farther she got from the ocean, the more her physical strength diminished. She hadn’t known that would happen until she first came to visit him.

She called this body her “human form,” but it wasn’t truly. It was more like her real body twisted into human shape, with an indifference to cold and wind, and a preference for salt water and raw meat. And strength and speed no human could match.

At least, to a point. Carrying the treasure chest to Jonathan’s house, to say nothing of the dead seal, had been harder than she’d expected. She was still stronger and faster than any human—at least, Jonathan said so. But Hæra hated her weakness, and Jonathan was obviously wrong about many things.

And yet, with every stronger step to the sea, Hæra felt worse about how she’d left him. He was harmless. He’d kept to the terms of their bargain. He was a surprisingly effective teacher. And he was…kind, in a way her species never was.