Page 20 of Captured by the Cthulhu (Monster Mates #3)

Chapter 20

Shifting Tides

Ashe

I wake to the sound of the lighthouse windows rattling against a gentle morning breeze. For a moment, I’m disoriented, my neck stiff from falling asleep in the armchair I’d dragged next to my bed. Then I remember why.

Roark lies on my bed, his massive form taking up every inch of the mattress. Dr. Rivera had insisted on treating him here rather than attempting to move him again after we’d managed to get him to the lighthouse yesterday. His breathing is steady now, though his skin lacks its usual glow.

“You really know how to make an entrance,” I whisper, reaching out to touch one of his tentacles that hangs off the side of the bed. It curls reflexively around my wrist, gentle even in his sleep.

The memory of yesterday’s chaos plays through my mind like a surreal film: Roark transforming in front of the entire town to save those sailors, Sebastian’s furious face as his plans unraveled, the kraken disappearing beneath the waves.

Then Roark’s collapse and the flurry of activity as Marina somehow convinced Dr. Rivera to come immediately. I remember Iris appearing, wings shimmering with anxiety, helping us get him home while keeping curious onlookers at bay.

I carefully untangle myself from Roark’s tentacle and tiptoe to the kitchen, desperate for coffee. To my surprise, there’s already a fresh pot brewing, and a note on the counter in loopy handwriting:

Made coffee, restocked your fridge with supplies for his recovery. Back soon with more help. —Marina

A smile tugs at my lips. Of course Marina would think of practical things like groceries in the middle of a crisis.

I pour myself a cup and walk to the window, watching the morning sun sparkle off the water. From this angle, I can’t see the damage from yesterday’s festival, but I know the harbor is still in disarray from the damaged reenactment vessel and the remnants of a celebration turned rescue mission.

I’m halfway through my coffee when there’s a soft knock at the door. I open it to find Marina balancing two large paper bags of groceries.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I say, taking one of the bags.

She gives me a quick once-over. “And you look like you haven’t slept in a week. How’s our patient?”

“Still unconscious. Dr. Rivera said he might be out for a while—blood loss and energy depletion.”

Marina follows me to the kitchen, unpacking fresh fish, vegetables, and a container of what smells like her famous chowder. “The whole town’s talking about what happened.”

My stomach tightens. “I bet they are.”

“Not like that,” she says, giving me a knowing look. “They’re calling him a hero. Those sailors would have drowned if he hadn’t intervened.”

“Really? They’re not freaking out about a cthulhu in their midst?”

Marina chuckles. “Oh, there’s plenty of freaking out. But it’s more ‘holy shit, did you see that’ than ‘grab your pitchforks.’ The Donahues are already selling ‘Cape Tempest Cthulhu Hero’ t-shirts at their shop.”

I laugh despite myself. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

I shake my head. “What about Sebastian?”

Marina’s expression darkens. “No sign of him since he took off yesterday. Coast Guard’s keeping an eye out, but…” She shrugs. “Selkies are notoriously hard to track when they don’t want to be found.”

“I still can’t believe he manipulated that poor kraken just to cause trouble.”

“Bitterness does terrible things to people. And Sebastian’s been nursing his grudge for decades, apparently.” She squeezes my arm. “Try not to worry about him right now. Focus on getting Roark back on his feet—er, tentacles.”

After Marina leaves, promising to return with more supplies later, I take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes. When I check on Roark, I find his eyes open, watching me with tired affection.

“Hey there, hero,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Not… hero,” he rasps. “Just did… what was needed.”

“Tell that to the sailors who would be fish food without you.” I reach for the glass of water on the nightstand. “Think you can drink something?”

He nods weakly, and I help him lift his head just enough to take a few sips. His tentacles twitch with the effort.

“How bad?” he asks.

“The doctor says you’ll recover fully. Just need rest and lots of protein.” I smile. “Marina’s stocked us with enough seafood to feed an army.”

He attempts a smile, but it turns into a grimace. “And the town? Are they upset?”

“Actually, no.” I smooth a hand over his brow. “Almost the opposite. You’ve become something of a local celebrity.”

Confusion flickers across his face. “I don’t understand.”

“The makes two of us. But apparently saving people from a capsizing ship trumps centuries of monster-hunting tradition.” I stroke his tentacle, feeling it pulse gently beneath my touch. “How’s the pain?”

“Manageable.”

“Liar.” I reach for the medicine Dr. Rivera left. “She said to take this when you woke up.”

He accepts the medicine without protest, which tells me just how much he must be hurting. After swallowing it, he reaches out and captures my hand with his own, his clawed fingers wrapping gently around mine. “You stayed.”

“Of course I stayed. Where else would I be?”

His eyes, ancient and tired, study my face. “I thought… It might be too much. Having our secret out.”

“Let the town know.” I lift his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to his smooth skin. “I’m not exactly hiding my bedside vigil here.”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips before his eyes drift closed again. “Rest… Just need rest.”

“Sleep,” I whisper. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The next three days fall into a rhythm of caring for Roark, fielding visitors, and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Dr. Rivera visits twice daily, checking his wounds and adjusting his medications. Iris flits in and out, bringing news from town and helping me manage the steady stream of well-wishers.

To my continued amazement, many townspeople stop by with gifts—fresh seafood, handmade cards, even a ridiculous stuffed octopus toy from the boardwalk gift shop. I accept each offering with bewildered gratitude, placing the cards where Roark can see them when he’s awake, which becomes more frequent as his strength returns.

By the fourth day, word has spread far beyond Cape Tempest. Marina shows me videos of the rescue on her phone—footage taken by tourists showing Roark’s dramatic transformation and the daring rescue of the sailors. The clips have millions of views, and the comments range from awestruck to supportive.

“You’re Internet famous,” I tell Roark, who’s now able to sit up and eat on his own.

He peers at the tiny screen, his tentacles curling with interest. “So strange to see myself through human eyes.”

“According to these comments, those eyes find you pretty impressive.” I scroll through the feed. “‘Total badass.’ ‘Absolute unit.’ Oh, and my personal favorite: ‘Tentacle daddy can rescue me anytime.’”

Roark chokes on his soup. “What does that even mean?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” I set the phone aside, grinning at his bewildered expression. “How are you feeling today?”

“Stronger.” He shifts, demonstrating by lifting himself higher against the pillows. “The pain is less. Dr. Rivera says I’m healing faster than expected.”

“That’s good.” I take the empty soup bowl. “You had me worried there for a while.”

His hand reaches for mine, his fingers wrapping around it with gentle pressure. “I’m sorry for frightening you.”

“Don’t apologize for saving lives, Roark.” I sit beside him on the bed. “You did good. And you’ve got quite the fan club now because of it.” I pause before adding, “The Mayor stopped by earlier too. The town council wants to recognize you as the official guardian of Cape Tempest’s waters.”

He blinks before saying softly, “How unexpected. I’ve spent so long hiding… I don’t quite know what to make of everyone’s acceptance.”

“Me neither.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “I kept this lighthouse because I wanted solitude. Now I’m harboring the town’s newest celebrity.”

His rumbling laugh vibrates through me. “Hardly a celebrity.”

“Tell that to your fan club. Iris says there’s a group who hangs out by the pier hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

His tentacles curl with embarrassment, making me laugh. We lapse into comfortable silence, watching the afternoon light play across the water outside the window.

“What happens now?” I finally ask.

Roark’s tentacle caresses my cheek. “Now we heal. We adapt. We see what the future brings.”

I trace the delicate patterns on his skin, gathering my courage. “You know, when I took this lighthouse job, I thought I was choosing solitude. Turns out I was just waiting for the right company.” I press my lips to the smooth skin where his chest meets his tentacles. “I love you, you know.”

The words fall from my lips easier than I expected, like they’ve been waiting there all along.

His eyes widen, then soften, the gold flecks glowing with an inner light. “And I love you, my treasure. You are more than just a lighthouse keeper. You’re the keeper of my heart.”

“That was almost poetic,” I tease, but my voice breaks a little.

“I’ve had a century to practice,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. “And an eternity to show you.”