Page 26 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge

He barely looked at her, and dread thickened in her stomach, sticky and putrid. Moments ago, Aegir had been attentive and kind, and now she wondered if he’d even notice if she was in the room. He had so many masks, was who he was with her just another?

The sun had set completely during their conversation, so Aegir lit a candle and scooted the chair next to the bed. On his way, he picked up a blanket and sat, tucking it around himself.

"Is it alright if I prop my feet?" he asked, waving a foot from under the blanket toward the corner of the bed.

Elspeth blinked. When she'd seen the single bed, she'd assumed that they would be sleeping together, and on some level, she supposed, they were. "Yes, that’s fine. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in the bed?"

"Thanks, I'd prefer to be able to move quickly in case of an emergency anyhow."

Elspeth pulled back the covers and tucked her feet and legs under the blankets. On the opposite side of the bed, Aegir settled his feet atop the blankets, gently placing his own over his legs.

"We've a long day tomorrow," he said. "We should get some sleep."

"Yes, quite."

Aegir blew out the candle, leaving the room lit only by the shine of the moon.

"Aegir?" Elspeth asked in the darkness. "What is it like—where you’re from?" Everything had been so new, all day, and Elspeth was overwhelmed by the fullness of what the world could encompass.

"It's... a complicated place." He shifted so his face was toward hers. In the moon's light, she could just make out the patterns of white and black on his face. "There are all sorts of people that live there, though the majority are human, like me."

It stood to reason that Aegir had to come from somewhere, and therefore there must be a place inhabited by other humans, but she still had trouble fathoming what that would look like. Aegir was nothing like she'd heard of humans. He was not locked in onlyone, boring form without any magic to speak of, instead, he had arguably more magic than she.

"It's not actually too far from Winter Harbor. So, it's quite cold, year round, though the Lady has—"

"The Lady," she interrupted. "You've mentioned her, a few times. Who is she?"

He blinked a few times. "A goddess. She created the entire world, they say. In our case, she created a magic bubble that covers the town that creates a more temperate climate. Not so far as to be summer all the time, but we have more plants than we should, and there are few days where one shouldn't venture outside at all. We don't have roads, like many cities do, instead we have canals that connect the rows of houses or buildings. There are foot paths and bridges, of course, but for faster travel, folks take a boat."

"I'd bet you like that," she whispered.

"Yes, it's one of the reasons that I'm a captain now. Well, that, and I can't stay away from the ocean for very long."

"You can't?"

"No, it really messes with my head. Most people from home, you see, only shift into two forms, their human form and their animal form. The more practiced shifters can stop halfway, but there isn't much reason for folksto learn beyond that. Having a shifted form is a birthright, and symbol of connection with the Lady, but for many it's little more than an outfit they can don when needed.

"For me, it's a lifeline. As soon as we started talking about what shifted forms we would like in school, I knew that I wanted to be an aquatic form. I'd always loved swimming and loved how the fullness of water drowns out all of the sound, leaving you with only the deep, abiding, distant crash of waves and profound silence. It pushes in on your ears, imposing itself upon you and isolating your thoughts and emotions, bringing them into clear focus. I need that. I need time to connect with the sea and myself like that."

"So if you were mated, you wouldn't make your mate leave the ocean?"

"I'd like to see my mate try to makemeleave the ocean!" He smiled, dampening the challenge of it. "No, I couldn't ever leave it, I can't fathom ever asking anyone to do the same. Is that... concern that you have?"

"It's a story we are told, growing up." Elspeth said, recalling the countless times she'd be warned about going ashore on the mainland. "That we shouldn't allowourselves to be taken in by someone who wasn't a selkie, because they'd refuse to let us go to the sea. That they'd take our pelts and trap us away from the ocean."

Elspeth pulled her pelt from her shoulders and tucked it under the covers with her, needing to feel its soft fur and connect to that part of herself.

“Aegir,” she called into the darkness once her pelt had calmed her.

“Yes?”

“I’m not from Winter Harbor.”

“Oh?”

“I’m from an island offshore, called Hillskerry. You’ve trusted me with a lot, so I figure I should return the favor, especially if I want you to take us home, after.”

“Yes, especially then.”