Free Polaris by Mindee Arnett

Pyreans swirling around him like fish in the ocean, or perhaps like ethereal daughters of the air as in the story. Maybe it had been the same for Cora.
    Jeth shifted his weight, contemplating an answer. A lie seemed easiest, but Sierra spared him the decision.
    She came over to the bed and sat beside Cora, brushing the hair back from her forehead. “Firstly, the daughters of the air aren’t real and you are. Secondly, what you are—human, mermaid, or anything else—doesn’t matter. All that matters is the things you do. All right?”
    Cora seemed to contemplate the wisdom of this statement. Finally, she nodded and then was overtaken by a huge yawn.
    Sierra glanced at Jeth. “I’ll stay with her.”
    Jeth set the reader back on the table. Then he stood up and bent over Cora long enough to brush his lips against herforehead. “Sleep well, munchkin.”
    â€œGood night,” Cora said as she scooted back, giving Sierra room to lie beside her. Cora had no trouble falling asleep on her own, but lately she’d been plagued by terrible nightmares. For Cora, nightmares had the potential for physical manifestation in the form of shredded or missing furniture, even holes in the walls, like the one near the foot of the bed that Flynn had patched over with a piece of scrap metal. The nightmares happened less often when she fell asleep with someone beside her, as if the presence of another person kept her unconscious mind anchored to this reality and away from the dimension of metaspace.
    As Jeth headed for the door, Sierra called for him to close it. He stopped and did as she asked, his heart an iron weight. Usually, she had him leave the door open so she could slip away more quietly. Jeth tried not to overthink her decision to stay the night with Cora. Knowing her, it was because Cora needed her more than he did. Or so he tried to tell himself.
    He entered his own cabin at the head of the corridor, stripped off his clothes, and fell onto the bed, smothering his face in the pillows. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to overtake him. He couldn’t remember ever being this tired, as if he’d been sucked dry and hollowed out, a dead battery disguised as human flesh.
    But sleep remained just out of reach, blocked by the thoughts that refused to quiet. There were so many worries that they soon became a blur, and he slowly descended into a delirious half sleep in which his fears masqueraded as dreams.
    Sometime later, the sound of his cabin door opening brought him fully awake. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as quiet footsteps crossed the room, followed by the soft swish of clothing meeting the floor. The mattress dipped at the foot of the bed and Sierra’s familiar scent filled his nose. He slowly inhaled surprise then exhaled his relief, as quietly as he could, uncertain if he should let her know he was still awake or not.
    But then her body curled around his, and he shifted to lay his hand against her side, drawing her deeper against him.
    â€œCan’t sleep?” she whispered against his ear.
    â€œNot yet.” He ran his fingers down her bare arm. “But soon, I think.” It might’ve been his imagination, but he sensed a smile pass through her. She squeezed him once, and then her body relaxed toward sleep.
    Although he knew he should let her be, he drew a breath and spoke into the darkness “I’ve decided to let them go. Shady and Celeste and whoever else wants to.” He paused, hyperaware of Sierra’s stillness. She might not be there at all except for the heat of her skin warming his. “I mean, I’m going to give them a real chance to leave.” He let his voice trail off and then waited for her response. He wanted her to tell him it was stupid, that he was overreacting, but Sierra was not the kind of girl to appease his hurt with a lie.
    â€œWhere will we land?”
    Jeth sighed. “I was thinking Benfold Minor.”