Tides of the Heart
A novel by Lyra Swann
When Isla joins a restoration team on the windswept shores of the Outer Hebrides, she’s chasing history, not danger—or so she believes. Unearthed from beneath centuries of rock and moss, ancient artifacts stir up more than just scholarly debate. They awaken whispers of secrets long buried, secrets that some would kill to protect.
Finn is no ordinary man. A mysterious outsider with ties to the sea, he’s been drawn to Isla for reasons even he can’t fully explain. His warnings about the island’s hidden dangers grow more urgent, but Isla can’t tell if he’s trying to protect her or keep her away from truths that hit too close to home.
As tensions rise among the team, and betrayal threatens to shatter their fragile unity, Isla and Finn find themselves drawn together beneath the endless starlit sky. But their connection is more than passion—it’s a bond that could unravel the mysteries of the past or doom them both to a fate written in the waves.
Haunted by the island’s legends and drawn into Finn’s enigmatic world, Isla must decide: will she cling to the truths she knows or plunge headfirst into a love as deep and untamed as the sea itself?
For fans of Outlander and The Night Circus, Tides of the Heart is a tale of ancient secrets, forbidden love, and the relentless pull of the unknown
Copyright 2024, Lyra Swann
-
Isla
A rugged island shaped by wind and waves, Taransay is a remote abandoned place cradled by the North Atlantic. Soft stretches of pale sand curve along its shore, while cliffs hold steady against the ocean’s relentless pulse. The air tastes of salt and untamed spaces, a reminder of days untouched by human hands.
I’d come here as part of a team of restoration and survey specialists, although the rest of the team was still back in Aberdeen. They’d arrive in a few days. In the meantime, I enjoyed the rare sense of solitude I got from being the only person on the island.
The low sun cast a soft, golden glow over the white sand beach. I kicked off my boots and ran my fingers through my hair, tangled and damp with sweat from a long day in the field. It had been hours of digging, bending, and hauling under an unusually warm Hebridean sun, and the salt air felt thick against my skin. I glanced around the deserted shore—no tourists, no boats on the horizon, just the hush of waves and an occasional seabird calling out over the water.
I hesitated, fingers hooked at the hem of my shirt. I’d never swum like this before, not with nothing between me and the open water. But here, on this quiet, wild island, it felt like a secret I could keep.
I tugged my shirt over my head, let it drop, and then slipped out of my jeans, a thrill pulsing in my chest. Unhooking my lacy bra, I hesitated for a moment, then let it fall. It felt wicked to stand bare-breasted in the open air. My n***les immediately sprang to sharp points with the chill of the sea breeze wafting over them.
Wrapping my hands around them, I squeezed my own n***les, moaning at their ultra-sensitivity. I’d always loved it when Brad sucked on my breasts. Well, that would never happen again.
Would I be able to find someone else to make me moan like he did, playing with my naked body? Sighing, I let my hands drop to the elastic of my lacy panties and slipped them down my thighs, kicking them away.
If there was one thing my ex had been good for, it was f***ing me until I screamed. I should have brought my vibrator with me, but there wasn’t room in my luggage. Besides, thinking about TSA seeing it on their X-rays was just too embarrassing.
And I had no time to buy a Scottish vibrator when I got off the plane from Raleigh. Besides, the thought of using a tartan-patterned s*x toy was just too funny.
I would have been laughing the entire time.
With my last bit of clothing left behind on the sand, I walked toward the water, feeling the cool, smooth sand beneath my bare feet, soft and damp from the evening tide.
I took a breath and dove forward, letting the cold water hit me, a bracing shock that flooded over my skin as I sank into the waves and drifted, weightless and free, beneath the wide, open sky.
The sea wrapped around me like chilled silk, prickling my skin as I glided through it, weightless and free. I could barely see the sandy shore from here, the gentle curve of the island of Taransay veiled in blue dusk. Stripped of anything man-made, the world was quiet, pure, an endless sweep of water meeting sky.
I dove beneath the surface, eyes closed, and let the cool embrace of the sea cradle me. I surfaced, then flipped onto my back, floating. The weight of the day – cataloging plants, mapping out planting charts – drifted off like mist.
Above, stars began to push through the twilight, blinking against the fading light. I opened my arms to the sea, the coolness reaching every tired muscle, every sore spot from hauling myself over craggy slopes or rock and bracken. Every breath, sharp with salt, seemed to pull a little more tension out of me.
A soft touch ran along my leg. I jerked, and the moment shattered. My heart thumped, and I twisted, eyes searching the water. But all I saw were small waves, shifting in gentle folds around me.
Then, with a quiet ripple, he surfaced. A dark, smooth head broke the water, crowned by glossy brown fur and framed by a pair of large, deep eyes. A bull seal, watching me with such intelligent curiosity it made me catch my breath.
"Hello, there," I whispered, half-expecting him to respond.
Instead, he bobbed closer, a cautious movement, and then paused, as if inviting me to join his world. His dark eyes held mine, rich and warm and strangely…familiar. I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the water. His gaze held a depth I hadn’t seen in any animal before, something almost too knowing.
I turned and started to swim slowly, parallel to the shore, and he swam beside me, his sleek form moving in perfect rhythm. For a few blissful minutes, we moved as one, the water sliding over us like silk. I was only dimly aware of the growing shiver in my limbs, the water biting colder as night descended because somehow, his presence made me feel warmer. Safe, almost.
Finn
The human woman drifted alongside me in the water, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched the steady pulse of the waves. Even though she had no idea I was there, I could feel the hum of her heartbeat through the water, a quiet insistence that made her presence impossible to ignore. She was different, this one. And she was alone—no sound, no scent of others, only her. But I shouldn’t linger.
I told myself that a hundred times as I watched her float, naked and unguarded, her head tipped back as if offering herself to the sea. The light was slipping, painting her bare skin with the last whispers of twilight, casting her in shades of dusk. The sight of her full breasts rising from the water, stiff peaks in the cool air, made my manhood quiver.
My sealhood quivered.
When I finally brushed up against her leg, unable to resist for another moment, she stirred, pulling herself upright, her breath catching, and for a moment, I thought she’d seen me for what I truly was.
She was so close I could hear her heartbeat, its soft, steady rhythm blending with the pulse of the waves. I moved closer, silently slipping through the water. My sleek fur grazed her leg as I circled her, watching as she treaded water, her body open and free in the night’s embrace. When her hand drifted out to touch me, I stayed still, letting her fingers graze over the thick wetness of my fur. A shiver ran through me, deeper than the cold of the sea, and her touch lingered, light but steady.
I pivoted in the water, breaking the surface, and she turned to face me, her eyes wide with wonder. We held there, caught between sea and sky, the rising moon casting silvered light across her face, illuminating the soft line of her mouth, the brightness in her gaze. She allowed her hand to rest it lightly against my side, fingers spread wide as if committing each inch of me to memory. I felt her warmth, the life that hummed within her, and something I’d locked away for so long stirred, a memory of a world I’d chosen to leave behind.
When she finally began to paddle toward shore, her gaze still brushed back toward me. She waded through the shallows, water droplets running down her shoulders, her back, and her buttocks. I watched as she reached for her clothes, and pulled her shirt over her damp skin.
Something tightened within me, a longing too sharp to ignore. Every instinct told me to stay back, to let her slip away, but I knew that ache wouldn’t be easily quieted. She had come close, closer than anyone had in years, and I felt it—an urge to follow, to remain near, to belong to something beyond the vast, lonely depths of the sea.
She turned back, her eyes searching the waves. They found me, her gaze holding steady, unflinching as if she could see me clearly beneath the waves. I wanted to look away, but I was caught, pulled toward her by a force as certain as the tide.
A low, rumbling call burst from my throat, a bellow of instinct and warning, a sound meant to keep her at a distance. But her eyes only widened, her expression unafraid. She’d come to the sea’s edge with reverence, not fear.
My heart beat hard, my thoughts tangled in a web of desires I’d buried long ago, desires that belonged to another time, to another life. With one last look, I turned and dove into the depths, the cool water enveloping me as I plunged down, farther, and faster, my pulse drumming in my ears. I told myself to forget her, to stay away from the shore, to let her slip back into the world where she belonged. But her eyes stayed with me, dark and knowing, lingering in the silence below the waves.
And I knew I would return.
-
Chapter 2
From behind the veil of low sea grass, I watched her. This woman was different, somehow—yet still a whisper of something familiar, something I’d long tried to forget. She stood with worn boots planted in the sand, mud-streaked, arms bare to the sun as she knelt over her little seedlings.
From behind the veil of low sea grass, I watched her. This woman was different, somehow—yet still a whisper of something familiar, something I’d long tried to forget. She stood with worn boots planted in the sand, mud-streaked, arms bare to the sun as she knelt over her little seedlings.
-
Chapter 3
The water shimmered around me, a silken embrace under the moonlight as I broke the surface beside her. She floated, the soft contours of her body rising and falling with the gentle lapping of the loch. My heart raced, each pulse echoing in my ears, a familiar thrum that pulsed with both exhilaration and trepidation.
The water shimmered around me, a silken embrace under the moonlight as I broke the surface beside her. She floated, the soft contours of her body rising and falling with the gentle lapping of the loch. My heart raced, each pulse echoing in my ears, a familiar thrum that pulsed with both exhilaration and trepidation.
-
Chapter 4: Finn’s Warning
She didn’t leave. I’d expected her to turn and swim back to shore, to heed my warning and let the lowering twilight swallow her departure. But Isla remained, her gaze steady, defiant, as if she could anchor me there with just her presence. The loch stirred faintly around us, a low whisper, but she didn’t seem to notice.
She didn’t leave. I’d expected her to turn and swim back to shore, to heed my warning and let the lowering twilight swallow her departure. But Isla remained, her gaze steady, defiant, as if she could anchor me there with just her presence. The loch stirred faintly around us, a low whisper, but she didn’t seem to notice.
-
Chapter 5: Ruins in the Sand
The fog hung heavy on the island, clinging to the rocky coastline like a second skin. I’d grown used to it—this veil that softened the world around the loch, muting colors and sound alike. But today, the fog seemed reluctant to leave, as if it knew what was coming. As the first light bled into the sky, I spotted movement along the shore. Isla’s team had arrived.
The fog hung heavy on the island, clinging to the rocky coastline like a second skin. I’d grown used to it—this veil that softened the world around the loch, muting colors and sound alike. But today, the fog seemed reluctant to leave, as if it knew what was coming. As the first light bled into the sky, I spotted movement along the shore. Isla’s team had arrived.
-
Chapter 6: Team Tensions
When the rest of the team first arrived on Taransay the energy was electric. We moved as a unit, driven by the shared thrill of unraveling the island’s ancient secrets. For a time, it felt like we were all pulling in the same direction. But that harmony didn’t last. By the third day, the unity that had carried us through our initial discoveries began to fray. The team splintered, each faction pulling toward its own goals, the cracks widening with every conversation and every decision.
When the rest of the team first arrived on Taransay the energy was electric. We moved as a unit, driven by the shared thrill of unraveling the island’s ancient secrets. For a time, it felt like we were all pulling in the same direction. But that harmony didn’t last. By the third day, the unity that had carried us through our initial discoveries began to fray. The team splintered, each faction pulling toward its own goals, the cracks widening with every conversation and every decision.
-
Chapter 7: A Storm on the Horizon
The sky was clear that morning, pale blue and innocent. But I could feel it—an unease threading through the island, carried on the wind that tugged at the edges of the tents and stirred the tall grass. By midday, the light began to dim, clouds rolling in from the horizon, thick and bruised.
The sky was clear that morning, pale blue and innocent. But I could feel it—an unease threading through the island, carried on the wind that tugged at the edges of the tents and stirred the tall grass. By midday, the light began to dim, clouds rolling in from the horizon, thick and bruised.
-
Chapter 8: Hidden Histories
Despite the calm, the unease in the camp lingered. I could still feel the weight of Finn’s presence from the night before—the quiet authority with which he had navigated the chaos, his cryptic words that seemed to linger long after he’d vanished into the interior of the island. It was waking, he’d said. The island. And it was watching.
Despite the calm, the unease in the camp lingered. I could still feel the weight of Finn’s presence from the night before—the quiet authority with which he had navigated the chaos, his cryptic words that seemed to linger long after he’d vanished into the interior of the island. It was waking, he’d said. The island. And it was watching.
-
Chapter 9: The Selkie Legend
The days since the chamber had been uncovered felt as if the island itself had exhaled a deep, ancient sigh. Whatever had been disturbed beneath the stones, whatever forces had been sealed away for centuries, seemed to stir beneath the surface, like the distant rumblings of a storm far out at sea.
The days since the chamber had been uncovered felt as if the island itself had exhaled a deep, ancient sigh. Whatever had been disturbed beneath the stones, whatever forces had been sealed away for centuries, seemed to stir beneath the surface, like the distant rumblings of a storm far out at sea.
-
Chapter 10: Discovery and Doubt
The air in the camp was thick with anticipation as the chest was opened. My heart raced as I stood nearby, watching with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The sunlight broke through the clouds in slanted beams, casting a soft glow over the chest. O’Connor’s hands were shaking as he opened it, and the moment the lid creaked open, I felt the collective breath of the group catch in the air.
The air in the camp was thick with anticipation as the chest was opened. My heart raced as I stood nearby, watching with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The sunlight broke through the clouds in slanted beams, casting a soft glow over the chest. O’Connor’s hands were shaking as he opened it, and the moment the lid creaked open, I felt the collective breath of the group catch in the air.
-
Chapter 11: A Fragile Alliance
The camp felt like a hollow place after Finn left. The shadows of the fire stretched long across the ground, but no warmth reached me. I sat stiffly on the log where I’d been moments before, still hearing Dr. Myers’ biting words echo in my head. The tension lingered, like an itch I couldn’t scratch, but what truly unsettled me was Finn’s sudden departure.
The camp felt like a hollow place after Finn left. The shadows of the fire stretched long across the ground, but no warmth reached me. I sat stiffly on the log where I’d been moments before, still hearing Dr. Myers’ biting words echo in my head. The tension lingered, like an itch I couldn’t scratch, but what truly unsettled me was Finn’s sudden departure.
-
Chapter 12: Growing Conflict
I didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but when it did, I knew this was the moment things were going to change. The tension had been building for days, thick as smoke, and it finally reached a boiling point. The camp felt different, somehow heavier. There was a sense of something breaking, something I wasn’t sure we could fix.
I didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but when it did, I knew this was the moment things were going to change. The tension had been building for days, thick as smoke, and it finally reached a boiling point. The camp felt different, somehow heavier. There was a sense of something breaking, something I wasn’t sure we could fix.
-
Chapter 13: The Cave Beneath the Cliffs
I can’t shake the tension from the camp. Every day, the divide between us grows wider—between Alina’s cold pragmatism and O’Connor’s idealism, between my need to preserve the island’s secrets and the restless hunger for profit in some of our team. I’ve been caught in the middle of it all, my thoughts a whirlwind, unable to find peace.
I can’t shake the tension from the camp. Every day, the divide between us grows wider—between Alina’s cold pragmatism and O’Connor’s idealism, between my need to preserve the island’s secrets and the restless hunger for profit in some of our team. I’ve been caught in the middle of it all, my thoughts a whirlwind, unable to find peace.
-
Chapter 14: Trust Tested
The days blurred together in a haze of salty air, damp sand, and the ever-present thrum of the island’s pulse. It felt as though time itself moved differently here—slower, more deliberate. I think about that a lot lately, how the island’s rhythm has become my own.
The days blurred together in a haze of salty air, damp sand, and the ever-present thrum of the island’s pulse. It felt as though time itself moved differently here—slower, more deliberate. I think about that a lot lately, how the island’s rhythm has become my own.
Comments
This is a serialized story. Click the button above to see when the next update is due.
Spice Level (1-5):
Meet the Author