Page 6

FIVE

ISOLDE

I solde's initial shock and confusion at the stranger's claim that she somehow caused the tidal wave turned into irritation. She stared angrily at the naked man standing inches away from her. The sheer arrogance in his assertion made her jaw clench despite her earlier attraction to him.

"You're out of your mind," she finally managed, her voice stronger than she expected. "I'm a marine biologist, not some comic book character with magical water powers."

He stepped impossibly closer, the heat from his body warming her still-damp skin. "Deny it all you want. The ocean responds to you."

Isolde backed away from him, shaking her head in disbelief. Her scientific mind rebelled against his absurdity. She turned, her eyes scanning the distant shoreline again where the research station once stood.

"This is ridiculous. I didn't cause anything." She started walking north, the sand shifting beneath her bare feet. "I need to check on my colleagues."

The naked stranger followed, his footsteps nearly silent behind her.

Isolde glanced back, expecting him to have at least fashioned some makeshift covering, but he strode behind her with the confidence of someone fully clothed, completely unembarrassed by his nudity.

The moonlight caressed the planes of his muscular body, highlighting every perfect inch of him.

"Don't you think you should find some pants?" she called over her shoulder, trying not to admire how his powerful thighs flexed with each step.

"That isn't my priority right now." His voice carried easily over the sound of waves. "You understanding what happened is."

As they crested a small dune, Isolde's breath caught.

The research station—a modern two-story building that had stood proudly overlooking the ocean for over a decade—was gone.

Only the concrete foundation remained, surrounded by a sea of debris stretching across the beach.

Broken glass glittered in the moonlight.

Research equipment lay scattered and broken.

A partial wall stood like a lonely sentinel where her laboratory had once been.

"This is..." Isolde pressed her hand to her mouth, her scientific mind struggling to process the devastation.

"The result of your awakening powers." The man appeared beside her, those blue-gray eyes assessing her reaction.

Anger flared in her chest again. "That's just plain mean and completely irrational. There must have been an earthquake or something that triggered a tsunami. Do you always blame random women for natural disasters?"

His lips quirked up at one corner. "Only when they're the one causing them."

Isolde was about to deliver a scathing response when movement caught her eye. Five figures huddled near what remained of the eastern wall, illuminated by the flashing lights of emergency vehicles that had arrived on scene. Relief flooded through her as she recognized her colleagues.

"Dr. Thompson! Marcos!" she called, running toward them, momentarily forgetting the frustrating man behind her.

Dr. Thompson—silver-haired and disheveled—looked up, his face brightening with relief. "Isolde!"

She embraced the older scientist, then moved to each of her other colleagues. Marcos with his salt-and-pepper beard, young Mara with a nasty gash on her forehead being tended by a paramedic, and the two other researchers, all wearing various expressions of shock and gratitude.

"We thought you'd gone home for the night," Mara said, wincing as the paramedic applied antiseptic.

"I was taking a walk on the beach," Isolde explained. "What happened?"

Dr. Thompson shook his head, gesturing at the wreckage. "A wave like nothing I've ever seen. No warning. It just... appeared."

"A man saved us," Marcos added, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "Pulled us out one by one. Built like a Greek god, that one."

Mara nodded. "Tall, dark hair, and incredibly strong. Just started dragging people out of the water before the emergency crews arrived."

Isolde turned, suddenly remembering her naked companion, but the space behind her was empty. The mysterious stranger had vanished as if he had never existed, leaving only footprints in the wet sand that disappeared into the darkness beyond the flashing lights.

For a moment, Isolde felt an inexplicable sense of loss—a hollow feeling in her chest that made no logical sense. They had exchanged fewer than fifty words, shared one impulsive kiss, and yet her body hummed with the memory of his touch, his intensity, and his commanding presence.

She shook her head, sending droplets of water flying from her tangled blonde hair. There were more important matters at hand than a vanishing naked man, no matter how perfectly sculpted his body had been or how his blue eyes had seemed to see right through her.

"Everyone, I just got off the phone with the USGS," called Jason, the youngest of her colleagues, running from his car, phone in hand. His normally cheerful face was pale with confusion. "They confirmed there was no seismic activity tonight. None. Not even a tremor."

The group fell silent. Isolde's mind raced through the possibilities.

"That's impossible," Dr. Thompson said, voicing what they were all thinking. "A wave that size needs a trigger."

Marcos stepped closer. "Maybe military testing? Underwater explosions?"

"In a protected marine sanctuary?" Isolde countered, her scientific brain desperately seeking rational explanations. "They'd never get clearance."

The mysterious stranger's accusation floated back to her: You caused it . She pushed the absurd thought away. That was ridiculous. People didn't cause tidal waves.

A sturdy paramedic with kind eyes approached Isolde, breaking through her thoughts. "Ma'am, we need to check you out."

"I'm fine," Isolde protested automatically, her hand brushing wet sand from her torn sleeve. "Others need help more than?—"

"You nearly drowned," the paramedic interrupted, guiding her firmly toward the ambulance with a gentle hand on her elbow. "Standard protocol."

Isolde relented, allowing herself to be led away. The paramedic draped a silver thermal blanket over her shoulders and sat her down at the back of the ambulance. As he checked her vitals, Isolde's gaze drifted back to the devastation where her workplace had stood just hours before.

"Your pulse is elevated," the paramedic noted, pressing his fingers to her wrist. "Any chest pain? Difficulty breathing?"

"No," Isolde answered, though her skin tingled with an unfamiliar energy that seemed to pulse in time with the waves breaking on shore. "Just... processing everything."

He handed her a bottle of water. "Drink this. You're dehydrated."

Isolde took a long sip, her mind returning to the naked man's claim. It was preposterous. And yet... she couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted inside her when that wave rose from the ocean. Almost as if some dormant part of her had awakened.

"Everything looks okay, all things considered," the paramedic concluded after finishing his assessment. "Do you want transport to the hospital for observation?"

"No," Isolde said firmly, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I just want to go home."

"Someone should keep an eye on you tonight," he cautioned. "Any family nearby?"

The question stung. Here it was, her thirtieth birthday, and she had no one. "I'll be fine on my own."

The paramedic frowned, clearly not satisfied with her answer, but he moved on to his next patient after giving her discharge instructions.

As Isolde sat watching emergency crews sorting through the wreckage, her thoughts kept returning to her mysterious rescuer's words, to the inexplicable wave that had no scientific explanation, and to the disturbing possibility that—just maybe—there were forces at work beyond what her scientist's mind could comprehend.

She soon slid down from the ambulance, the silver thermal blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Another paramedic had tried to convince her one more time to go to the hospital, but she had politely declined.

Her body felt different—energized yet exhausted like she had been plugged into some cosmic outlet and overloaded.

She wandered away from the flashing lights and the controlled chaos of emergency responders, her bare feet sinking into the cool, damp sand.

Debris from the research station littered the beach like fallen stars.

A microscope here, a filing cabinet there—the scattered remains of years of scientific inquiry.

" You caused it. "

The stranger's words echoed in her mind, sending an electric tingle down her spine. Isolde shook her head, trying to dislodge the ridiculous notion.

"That's completely impossible," she whispered to herself, picking her way through shattered glass and splintered wood. "I don’t have the power to cause a natural disaster."

And yet—what other explanation was there? No earthquake. No underwater explosion. Just a massive wall of water appearing out of nowhere on her thirtieth birthday.

"I must be losing my mind to even consider this is somehow my fault," Isolde murmured, scanning the darkened beach for any sign of the naked stranger.

Despite his arrogance and bizarre claim, he had seemed so certain and something about his intensity had resonated with her on a level she couldn't explain.

She needed to find him. Needed answers.

Isolde moved farther down the beach away from the rescue teams and the shattered remains of her workplace. The silver blanket fluttered around her as the ocean breeze picked up, carrying with it the tang of salt and something else—something wild and untamed that made her heart race.

"Where are you?" she called out, her voice swallowed by the rhythmic crash of waves.

A piece of driftwood caught her eye—perfectly white and smooth, unlike the jagged debris from the research station. Isolde bent to pick it up, running her fingers along its polished surface.

The moment her skin made contact, the water at the shoreline pulsed, drawing back several feet before rushing forward again with unusual force. Isolde dropped the driftwood with a startled gasp, her eyes wide with shock.

"That didn't just happen," she told herself firmly, her scientific mind desperately searching for a rational explanation. "Correlation is not causation. Basic research principle."

But her hands trembled as she backed away from the water's edge. Suddenly, the ocean—her constant friend and companion—felt alien and dangerous. And somewhere out there, a man with storm-colored eyes held the explanations she needed.

"Come back," she whispered, not entirely sure if she was speaking to the ocean or to the mysterious stranger who had vanished like sea foam in the sun. "Please."

The waves continued their eternal dance, offering no answers while the moon cast silver light across the water's surface. As she stood there, she had a very bad feeling that she just received a birthday present she never asked for and couldn't ever return.