Page 5

Besides, interspecies relationships never end well.

I used to live in the ocean, but things got complicated.

A dispute with my kind.

They said I was too interested in human matters and was getting reckless. They didn’t appreciate the things I salvaged from the surface. I was exiled, forced to find a new domain.

The change from saltwater to freshwater was brutal. I didn’t think I would survive at first, but now I can’t imagine beingelsewhere. The entire lake is mine, free from the rules of my kind. I can keep whatever I want without anyone telling me what I should or shouldn’t do.

The closest I’ve come is territorial attachment—to this lake, these waters. To the fragile peace I maintain with the forest troll and the Dire wolf who claim the surrounding woods.

Until today. Until her.

I settle onto my reading ledge, but the words on the page blur and shift, replaced by the image of her face. The way she showed no fear. The audacity of her, calling me “Squidman” when she should have been begging for her life.

Something stirs within me—a yearning feeling I’ve suppressed for decades. My tentacles twist and curl with agitation, responding to my unsettled state.

She was warm beneath my touch.

Soft.

Her pulse quickened when my appendage caressed her cheek, but not from fear. No, that was something else entirely. Something that made my own blood run hotter.

This is dangerous.

Humans are temporary creatures, fragile and fickle.

They fear what they don’t understand, and destroy what they fear.

The few who have glimpsed me over the centuries fled screaming or attacked. None have ever looked at me with the fascination and desire I saw in her eyes.

She’s going to be trouble.

I should frighten her away.

For her safety.

Yet even as I think about this, I’m already planning how I can see her again.

A disturbance ripples through the water—a change in pressure, a shift in current. I sense him before I see him, the massive shadow passing overhead.

Kaelen.

The dire wolf rarely ventures into the lake, preferring to patrol the forest’s edge. And when he does, he’s not welcomed—not anymore.

That he’s swimming now means he’s caught her scent.

I’ll let it slide for now.

I make my way out of my domain and surge upward, breaking the surface to find him already back on the shore, shaking water from his massive fur. He’s all wolf in this form—seven feet of muscle, fangs, and power. Only his eyes retain human intelligence.

“You met her,” he growls, not a question but an accusation.

“She was in my lake,” I respond coolly, letting several tentacles rise menacingly above the water’s surface. A reminder of boundaries. “The human is staying in the cabin.”

“I know. I scented her arrival.” His nostrils flare, and I recognize the same hunger that plagues me. “She smells different.”

“She’s just another human,” I lie, even as my tentacles curl possessively at the thought of her. “Temporary. Insignificant.”