Page 16 of Captured by the Cthulhu (Monster Mates #3)

Chapter 16

Enchanted Disguises

Ashe

The coastal path feels familiar under my boots as I make my way back to Roark’s cabin. The excitement of what I’m carrying makes the steep hike easier, even as my legs protest the uneven terrain.

It’s been about a week since I last saw him, since we shared something I still can’t fully comprehend—breathing underwater, seeing through his eyes, connecting in a way that went beyond the physical.

In my pocket, a small silver compass pin bounces gently against my thigh with each step. I touch it through the fabric, reassuring myself it’s still there. My answer. Our chance.

I pause at the ridge overlooking his hidden cove, catching my breath. The cabin sits nestled against the cliff face, smoke curling from the chimney. The sight of it makes my heart beat faster, though I blame the climb.

As I approach the weathered door, I take a deep breath and knock lightly.

“It’s Ashe,” I call, suddenly nervous in a way I hadn’t been during our most intimate moments.

The door opens, and there he is—all eight feet of him filling the door frame, skin a deep blue-black that normally shimmers with emotion when he sees me.

Today, though, something’s different. The patterns across his body seem dimmed, like the light’s been taken away.

“Ashe,” Roark says, my name softly resonant in his deep voice.

He steps back to let me enter, tentacles moving with that fluid grace that still mesmerizes me. The cabin is exactly as I remember from my previous visit—maps spread across tables, books stacked in corners, nautical instruments hanging on the walls—but something feels off. The curtains are drawn tight across windows that should frame spectacular ocean views.

“Everything okay?” I ask, setting down my small backpack.

“Of course,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate. “You’ve returned sooner than expected.”

“I found something,” I say, unable to contain my excitement a moment longer. I dig into my pocket and pull out the silver compass pin, holding it up so it catches the light from his fireplace. “I found Iris.”

His eyes widen slightly, the golden flecks in their darkness seeming to brighten with interest. “You sought her out?”

“I did.” I step closer, holding the pin between us. “She enchanted this for you. It’s a temporary glamour—enough for one day of looking human.”

The patterns across his skin pulse once, bright and hopeful, before settling back into their subdued state.

“One day,” he repeats, voice careful and measured.

“I thought maybe you could use it for the Maritime Festival next week,” I continue, words tumbling out faster now. “We could go together. You could meet some people—not as a cthulhu, obviously, but as… someone with me.” I feel my cheeks warm at the implication.

He reaches out, his hand hovering near the pin without touching it. “A clever solution,” he says, but there’s hesitation in his tone.

“It would be a start,” I press on. “We could introduce you to people like Marina, maybe some others. Build some alliances that could one day help change how the town sees sea creatures.”

Roark moves to the window, pushing the curtain aside just enough to gaze at the ocean. “It’s a kind thought. And I appreciate the effort you took to obtain this gift.” His tentacles shift restlessly behind him. “But I question its realism.”

“What do you mean?”

He turns back to me, expression troubled. “Do you truly believe a few friendly interactions will change Cape Tempest’s long history?”

I frown, surprised by his pessimism. “We have to start somewhere. And there are good people here. Marina, Iris. Even some of the tourists who visit the lighthouse are fascinated by sea creatures, not afraid.”

“Fascination and acceptance are not the same,” he says softly.

Something’s wrong. This isn’t the same Roark who shared his underwater world with me, who looked at me with wonder and hope.

“What happened?” I ask directly. “Since I was here last. Something changed.”

A shadow crosses his face. “Nothing of consequence. Merely… reflection.”

I don’t believe him, but I also don’t want to push too hard. “Well, regardless of transforming the entire town overnight,” I say, setting the pin on the table between us, “would you still want to use this? Even just to experience being out in town again?”

The light returns to his eyes, if only barely. “I would. I confess to feeling a bit of cabin fever. Quite literally.” He gestures to the small space around us. “To walk among humans again, even briefly… Yes, I would like that very much.”

I smile, relieved. “Then that’s what matters. The festival isn’t for another week, so we have time to figure out the details.”

He nods, a small smile finally appearing, though something still seems to weigh on him.

“Roark,” I say gently, “talk to me. Please.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, the multiple heartbeats beneath his skin pulsing in their strange, beautiful rhythm.

“I wonder if you’ve truly considered what this means,” he finally says. “A relationship with me. The secrecy. The limitations. The potential consequences if discovered.”

“Of course I have.”

“Have you? Truly?” He moves closer, towering over me, but somehow making himself seem smaller. “This path—it won’t be easy. You might lose your position at the lighthouse if people find out.”

I look up at him, confused by this sudden shift. “I know it’s complicated. But we can figure it out.”

“Well, if the Maritime Festival is in a week…” he begins, his tentacles swirling in a restless pattern. “I think you should use this time to consider everything carefully. We shouldn’t indulge ourselves any further until you’ve really thought about this.”

My stomach drops. “Are you… asking me to leave?”

“I’m suggesting that perhaps you should take this week for yourself. To be certain this is what you want.”

I stare at him, trying to understand what’s happening. “You want me to go away and think about whether you’re worth the trouble? Really?”

“I want you to be certain,” he corrects, voice gentle. “Before we attempt anything further in a world that has historically been unkind to creatures like me and those who protect them.”

I feel strangely hollow, like something precious is slipping away. But it’s clear his mind has been made up.

I press the pin into his palm. “Meet me on the morning of the festival. Expose the pin to the morning light, then wear it close to your chest. That should activate the transformation. It will last until sundown.” I swallow hard. “And while I’m thinking about what I want, maybe you should think about what scared you between the last time I saw you and now.”

His hand curls gently around my wrist, the touch cool and familiar. “Ashe—”

“I’ll see you at the festival,” I interrupt. “If you still want space then, just say so and I’ll respect that. But be honest with me about why.”

For a moment, he looks like he might say more, reveal whatever shadows have found him in my absence. Instead, he simply nods, his tentacles releasing me reluctantly.

I pick up my backpack and head for the door, determined not to look as hurt as I feel. “Take care of yourself, Roark.”

Outside, the coastal path stretches before me. I start the long hike back, wondering what could have happened to make him push me away—and whether whatever we’ve started has already reached its end.