Moonlight in your eyes- The prince's Selkie mate

Cooking

Greer

I have no idea what’s happening to me, which is starting to mess with my head. My stomach is twisted in knots constantly, my senses on such high alert a passing breeze brushing my skin is painful—no need to work out with the tense muscle in my entire body.

For the first time in my life, I’m…grumpy. Because I don’t sleep well. All I do is throw myself from one side to the other or stare at the ceiling. Not even swimming helps when it usually does.

In middle and High school, my first year of college, I did that competitively, and whenever I felt hung up on anything, I could clear my head that way. The fact that I still feel stuck days after my last vision is unnerving.

Pushing my cup around on the counter before me, I stare out the window. The sunlight is almost blinding. Getting up early is another habit that used to make me feel calm, relaxed. All by myself in the kitchen before the rest of my family started trotting downstairs or, in the case of Jordan, come home, have coffee, and then go to bed.

In the past two days, it has been more of a necessity. Since I can’t sleep anyway, I get up as early as possible to escape the quiet of my house. Turning toward the kitchen, I gaze at the table across from me.

I built that house over the last three years, and it has been my safe space since I moved in. Some peace and quiet whenever my very loud and lively family got too much. Now it just feels empty. Like it’s missing something..or someone. I shake my head. Yeah, those thoughts aren’t allowed, even though they have been creeping in daily since the night of the party. They are only adding to my stress, though.

Because I just for the life of me can’t explain what draws me to Noemi. I want to help her, make it all better… and hurt the people who did this to her, which is new and very unsettling. Not a vengeful guy at all. Quite the opposite. But just seeing the broken, almost dead look in her eyes day in and day out, which is only relieved for a second when she talks to her friend or Jade, makes my blood run cold and angry heat ball in my stomach.

She has a right to be happy. To not look like she expects you to strike her whenever you look at her for long. Whatever happened to her to look how she did when we picked them up, I don’t want to think about it too often, scared I might develop an aneurysm with all the suppressed anger. Because I could never show it around her. Noemi is so skittish and fragile that there is nothing to compare it to.

And then again, she’s probably the strongest person I know. Through pieces of conversations I picked up on here and there, either with Mom or Jade because she avoids my brothers and father whenever she can, I found out that she was the one they kept the longest. Whenever I see her flinch away when there are too many people in the room, I am reminded that last night was not a one-time occurrence. It wasn’t the first time that they tried to sell them.

I've been as involved as possible with the 'task force' put together to investigate this thing and get the guy our guard picked up to talk.

Dad was surprised to see me interested and eager to help with something like this and took me aside to ask. I have never shown much enthusiasm for anything related to his position or role in our community. Sure, I studied politics and history with a tutor like the others, given that we went to ‘normal schools.’ Still, it never exceeded the 4 hours a week I was forced to spend with Vernon. So he was rightfully bemused.

A stick about the vision and wanting to follow up, feeling responsible, did the trick. Not all lies, at least. I didn’t tell Dad how I envisioned strangling whoever touched Noemi and planned to kill her parents as slowly and agonizingly as I could once I got my hands on them—surprising myself with the bloodlust roaring in the back of my head. I never lose my mind like this. Never. But give me one look at her with her head bowed, peering through the tendrils of her black hair to make sure no one notices her, and I’m right there.

I blink a few times. Sh**. That wasn’t just in my head. Noemi is sitting in my line of vision, nervously folding the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. Looking at me through the curtain of her hair until… I see something shift in her deep, wide-set purple eyes. She straightens and looks right at me.