Page 28

Chapter 28

Erik

T onight.

She wants to leave me, and she wants to do it right away.

I should not be surprised. After all, last night I showed her just how terrifying I can truly be, when I embrace the monster inside me. But no—that does not seem entirely truthful, does it? She enjoyed last night, immensely.

It was this morning, when I was unable to please her, that must have pushed her away.

“Lillian–”

“Please, Erik.” It is then I realize that her eyes are red and puffy from crying, and her whole body seems to be shaking. From what, I do not know. Surely our sex this morning was not so terrible? But her tone is hard when she continues. “I have to go. Now. Will you help me?”

She’s asking for my help?

It is odd that that is the part of this situation that makes me realize something is off, and yet it is. Lillian never asks for help. She is stubborn and self-reliant to a fault. Even when she was unable to walk, I needed to force her to rest while I took care of her.

“What is wrong, my treasure?”

Her shaking intensifies. When she hears my pet name for her, her shoulders tense, and water once again beads at the corners of her eyes.

Despite being covered in splinters, I cannot stand to keep my body from hers. Her emotional discomfort is physically painful for me. I cross the shelter and wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight until I feel her breath push her chest against mine. My shoulder is wet when I finally let her pull away, and her face is shiny with fresh tears.

“Please,” is all she says.

There is fear in her eyes. And that is when I know.

You can hear it.

She nods, as if she is afraid to confirm it in any way that Keto or Phorkys may overhear. They are in both of our minds now.

She is absolutely right. I must get Lillian to safety. Now, while she still may stand a chance.

“Let me take you to my main shelter. We can gather supplies there.”

She nods, and I scoop her in my arms. A small snort escapes her, and I can’t help but grin at the return of my stubborn treasure.

“I can walk now, you know.”

You need your strength, and you know it.

Her lips purse in response as I carry her to the shore.

The autumn sun is high in a cerulean sky, highlighting the burst of color that dots the leaves surrounding us. I have always believed this time of year to be so cruel: the flamboyant burst of colors, unseasonably bright, only to beckon the loneliest and harshest of seasons.

I step into the freshwater surf, and goose pimples pock my flesh as a light breeze rustles past. Lillian shivers in my arms, and I tilt my head at her.

This is the fastest way to my cabin. While I can traverse over the harsh terrain to my main dwelling, it is physically demanding to do so. This spontaneous forest is crescent-shaped; the shelter in which we have been staying is closest to the northern shore, while the other is in the thicker central arc of the island, more protected from vacationing humans. The forest is denser there, which is why it is my primary place of residence during the warm months. I worry less about being disturbed there.

But the rough, rocky, and heavily forested terrain surrounding it has a drawback: it is perilous to journey in and out.

Just dragging the wagon of supplies from the middle of the island to the tip when Lillian first arrived took an entire day, and we do not have the luxury of time. Swimming across the lagoon is the most efficient way to travel there, and it will be less strenuous on her recovering ankle.

And she will need to reserve every ounce of strength she can to make the swim back to the mainland.

I lower her into the water once it is too deep to keep my feet on the pebbly floor, keeping hold of her wrist as she tests out kicking her legs. Her face does not squint with discomfort, which is good. She nods at me, and I swim out in front of her to lead the way.

When I reach the central shore of the crescent, I look over my shoulder to gauge Lillian’s progress. She is about a hundred meters back from me, her blonde hair a small golden jewel upon a dark, wavy sea. When her knees at last reach the sandy basin of the water’s edge, she crawls ashore. She is breathing heavily, and favoring her injury as she rises to her feet.

My chest aches, and my throat is hoarse before I even attempt to speak.

“Lillian…”

“I’m fine,” she chokes between breaths, and my heart tightens further. “I will be fine.”

The fiery look in her eyes bars no argument. I relent, bowing my head as I turn away. “Remain here. I will fetch what we require.”

As I run through the forest, twigs and rocks and pinecones scratching at the calloused soles of my feet, I use every ounce of willpower I possess to empty my mind.

I cannot think of the danger she is in.

I cannot allow myself to entertain the idea of aiding her escape.

If I think of it, then They will know our plans. Especially here, so close to the underwater cave in the lagoon where she was first cursed. I am certain that must be where Keto hides, when She is not lording over her subjects like the tyrant that She is. That is why Phorkys is so strong there: not simply because it is His base of power, but because that is where His mate sleeps.

You seek to deduce from that which you do not understand, Erik.

The growl seeps in from the base of my brain, and if I were a weaker man its chill would be enough to freeze me to the forest floor. But I surge onward, knowing that Lillian depends on me, even if I cannot think it.

You try to hide your thoughts from ME?

The further inland I run, the weaker His voice, but it is still there. A threatening chuckle lingers on the corner of my consciousness like the voice of a dream in the space between wakefulness and sleep. He is both there and not there, a figment and a reality, and for the entirety of my run I cannot shake Him loose.

All I can do is run. Crash through the door to my cabin. Gather a sealskin sack and stuff it full of what few clothes I possess that Lillian can use on the mainland: short pants, a sun-bleached shirt, senseless floppy shoes that affix to one’s feet with a thong of rubber. A water skin. An odd, bird-shaped ring that can inflate with air to aid in flotation, which may grant her respite in the long journey to shore.

All the while, the monster laughs.

I slam the door shut, my arms laden with supplies, feet flying as fast as I dare over the uneven deer path back towards the shore. I cannot be too careful—if I were to fall, if I were to injure myself, what hope would Lillian have?

I cannot let her share my fate. I cannot—I will not –

The forest blurs at the edge of my vision, before a furious film emerges across my entire field of sight. My breath hitches as I rub at my eyes with my shoulder, slowing my pace just a hair to wipe my vision clear, only for my arm to come away wet.

Why am I crying?

I am saving her. I will deliver her to safety. It is not too late, I swear it, I will save her?—

But you do not wish for her to leave, do you?

My chest is heaving. The exertion of this hike is too much, too fast, even for one as fit as I am. I spent all morning gathering wood, only to swim half the length of the island and sprint up a demanding forest path. I am tired, clearly. I have expended much energy.

Something is blocking my throat when I suck in a breath. It hitches, and a stitch buries itself in my chest. When I hear myself inhale, it is broken and ragged, in a way that sounds eerily similar to a sobbing babe.

But I do not sob.

I do not weep.

That is not—has never been—how I process my emotions.

At last, my feet reach the forest’s edge, where the mighty pines and birches give way to small shrubs and tall grasses. Fine sand overtakes the hard red clay of the interior soil, and I look up to see Lillian, clutching her knees to her chest and burying her face in her legs as she rocks back and forth.

“I have returned,” I say, willing my voice to be as strong as she needs me to be. My beautiful, beautiful Lillian, with her waist-length locks and soft curves. Her steely resolve and curious mind.

My treasure. Mine.

Mine.

A shiver skitters down my spine. No.

If the only way I can claim her is by proxy of the monster, then I have no choice.

I have to let her go.