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missed my family and the ocean, but I didn’t want him to give up on me and toss me aside. Was that the only value I held for him? As some sexual toy? Could he not find something else to enjoy about me? But I knew I was being irrational. When you desire someone so much and you can’t truly have them, everything else feels like a meaningless void.
    He kissed the tears off my face and gave me another glass of wine. I drank it down to make the fuzzy feeling more pronounced, to feel warm when I was starting to grow cold.
    His cock was hard and erect. Even thinking of that word for his anatomy felt so carnal. It was a carnality that a part of me had awakened to, but the rest still refused to accept could be part of my life.
    This time, he shook his head when I tentatively moved to wrap my hand around him. “No. Use your mouth this time.”
    I’d known this was coming and was surprised he hadn’t demanded it sooner. Each day in his room, I’d expected him to take advantage of the one warm orifice he had access to. His self-control had only heightened my anxiety as the threat loomed larger.
    Now his command started the twitch and flicker and flame. My heart beat faster. I did want him. I knew if enough time passed between us that eventually his pronouncement about seducing me, of winning, would come true.
    But there was always the part of me I held back because I was trying to stay in both worlds at once. I knew that wasn’t possible, and that I had to pick. Even though I was beginning to dread the cold fingers of the sea, imagining his warm, solid fingers in their place ... I still fought against closing the door of choice completely.
    I closed my eyes and took him into my mouth. The new experience felt wicked, but it wasn’t distasteful as I’d feared it might be. The memory of the couple having sex in the sand came unbidden, and I looked past the undignified nature of the act to see something that could be beautiful. A low moan came from my throat as I imagined limbs entangled and that look of surrender on her face.
    The flame grew, and the memory morphed into a fantasy. Now it was me rolling in the sand with Kyros. He continued to stroke me as I licked and kissed and sucked. I felt myself let go and be in the moment. I surrendered, and for that brief minute or so I belonged completely to him. Not just physically stuck on land where I couldn’t get back to my home, but in every cell of my being.
    I didn’t really feel what happened next. It wasn’t painful. It should have been but it wasn’t. Or maybe it was and I’ve just blocked it out now; I’m not sure. But what I remember was the sound. It was like thick cloth ripping. I jerked away and looked down.
    It was happening; there would be no more swimming with my family. He’d held out the hope in front of me, and I’d relaxed, let my guard down. And now my body had decided for me. I watched in fascinated horror as the transformation took over, as my fin ripped down the middle and everything folded and reknitted, like clay being molded into a new design.
    I shut my eyes because I couldn’t watch my scales smooth into skin or the color change to match the top half of me. I buried my face in Kyros’ chest as he held me and told me things were going to be okay. How were they going to be okay? They weren’t ever going to be okay.
    Several minutes passed before the change stopped. His hand cupped below the curvature of my waist, this new body part I had. It felt obscene, so wrongly intimate for him to touch a part of me that even I had never touched.
    “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.
    He helped me out of the bed and guided me on the walk to the bathroom. Walk. On land. I was moving on land. My new legs hurt. They were sore and achy, and I hoped that was just because they were new. If he’d let go of my waist, I would have fallen. I could barely propel myself forward as it was. The instinct was for everything below my waist to move as one unit swishing back