Maybe I'd finally found somewhere to run to instead.
Chapter Nine
LILY
The next evening, everything changed. I slipped away to my spot at the stern as the sun began its descent, my heart already racing with anticipation. The day had been long, Cort's eyes following me everywhere, Decker's snide comments echoing in narrow corridors, the constant vigilance that left me exhausted by nightfall. I'd barely eaten, barely slept, my mind circling endlessly around the memory of last night. The way they'd looked at me. The way the dark one had pressed his hand to his heart.
None of it mattered now. Nothing mattered except the water and what waited beneath it.
The railing was cool beneath my fingers as I gripped it, leaning forward, scanning the waves for any sign of movement. The sun painted the water in shades of molten gold and deep orange, and for a moment there was nothing, just the endless sea, just the rhythm of waves against the hull, just my own heart beating too fast in my chest.
Then the water rippled.
They rose as the sun touched the horizon, four shapes breaking the surface in their usual formation. Water streamed from their hair and shoulders, catching the golden light like liquid fire. The dark one in front, his ink-black hair plastered to his pale skin, his obsidian tail gleaming beneath the surface. The scarred one at his shoulder, massive and bronze, water running in rivulets down the muscles of his chest. The silver-haired one to the side, his perfect features gilded by the dying light. The warm one hanging back, honey-brown hair floating around gentle features.
All of them still wearing my ribbons.
The blue one was wrapped three times around the dark one's wrist, bright against his pale skin. The green one was woven through the silver one's hair, trailing down past his temple like a decoration. The cream one was tied at the warm one's throat, resting against his pulse. And the pink one—the pink one was still clutched against the scarred one's chest, held there by a massive bronze hand like something he couldn't bear to release.
Something loosened in my chest at the sight of them. Something that had been wound tight all day, waiting for this moment, finally letting go.
I waved, that silly little gesture that had become our ritual, and the warm one waved back, his amber eyes crinkling with what looked like joy, his whole face transforming with the warmth of his smile. The scarred one's lips pulled back from his teeth in something that was almost a grin, fierce and wild. The silver-haired one's sharp smile curved his perfect lips, though something seemed different about him tonight, a tension in his jaw, a tightness around his eyes that I couldn't quite place.
The dark one—the dark one was watching me with those fathomless eyes, his gaze so intense I could feel it like a physical touch. He raised one pale hand from the water, beckoning.
Come closer.
I leaned over the railing, gripping the worn wood until my knuckles went white, wishing I could close the distance between us. Wishing I could dive into the water and swim to them, propriety and safety and common sense be damned.
Then the dark one opened his mouth.
And spoke.
"Little human."
The words drifted up to me, clear as bells, carried on the evening air. The dark one's voice was low and smooth, like stones tumbling in deep water, like the sound the ocean made when you pressed a shell to your ear. It resonated in my chest, in my bones, in some deep place I hadn't known existed. His pale lips curved slightly around the words, savoring them. I nearly fell over the railing. My hands scrambled for purchase on the worn wood, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"You—you can talk?" The words burst out of me, high and breathless, my fingers gripping the railing so hard I felt splinters threatening to pierce my skin. I leaned so far forward I was practically climbing over the side.
The scarred one let out a sound that might have been a laugh—rough and rumbling, like distant thunder rolling across the sea. His golden eyes glinted with amusement, catching the fading sunlight, and his massive shoulders shook with mirth. Water droplets scattered from his bronze skin as he moved.
"Did you think we were mute, little human?" His voice was deeper than the dark one's, rougher, with an edge like a blade wrapped in velvet that made something in my belly tighten. His sharp teeth flashed white against his sun-darkened skin.
"I—I don't know what I thought." My own voice came out breathless, stunned, barely more than a whisper that the evening breeze nearly stole away. All this time. All these evenings of singing to them, talking to them, telling them about my days—and they could have answered. They could have spoken back. Ipressed one hand to my racing heart, trying to steady myself. "Why didn't you say anything before? All those nights I talked to you, sang to you, you could have said something. Anything."
"We were waiting," the warm one spoke, his voice exactly what I'd expected, soft, gentle, like sunlight filtering through water on a calm day. His amber eyes held mine with tender patience, warm as honey, and he drifted slightly closer to the ship, his green-gold tail moving lazily beneath the surface. Droplets of water clung to his honey-brown hair like tiny jewels. "We didn't want to frighten you. You seemed... fragile. Wary. Like a wild creature that might bolt at any sudden movement." He tilted his head, studying me with that gentle gaze. "We didn't want to give you a reason to stop coming to the railing."
"Frighten me?" I laughed, the sound startled out of me, echoing across the water between us. I shook my head in disbelief, feeling my tangled hair brush against my shoulders. "I've been throwing myself at the railing every evening to see you. I gave you my ribbons, the only pretty things I own, the only things I have left of my old life. I don't think frightening me was ever a real concern."
The dark one's lips twitched, not quite a smile, but close, the corners of his pale mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. His dark eyes warmed by a fraction, the endless black softening, and I could see something shift in his expression, some tension releasing from his shoulders. "You gave us courting gifts before you even knew our names." He spoke the words slowly, deliberately, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the water. Each word was chosen with care, weighted with meaning I didn't fully understand why they would direct it to me. "We wanted to... proceed carefully. We have never done this before. Courted someone. We did not want to make mistakes that would drive you away."
Courting. It kept appearing in my thoughts, in their gestures, in the weight of their gazes.
"What are your names?" The question tumbled out before I could stop it, eager and breathless, my whole body leaning toward them so far I could feel the railing pressing into my stomach. "I've been calling you things in my head—the dark one, the scarred one, the silver one, the warm one, but those aren't your names, are they? I want to know what to call you. I want to know who you are. Please."
The dark one inclined his head, a formal gesture that seemed almost like a bow, his ink-black hair falling across his pale forehead in wet strands. When he rose, his expression was solemn, almost reverent, as if this moment carried great weight, as if sharing his name was something sacred. "I am Kaelan." He pressed his pale hand to his chest, over his heart, his long fingers splayed across his skin where the blue ribbon wrapped around his wrist. His dark eyes held mine with unwavering intensity. "Pack leader. The one you gave your pearl to, that first day in the water. I have kept it with me every moment since."
Kaelan. The name settled into my mind like it had always belonged there, like a key sliding into a lock. Kaelan, with his ink-black hair and obsidian tail and eyes like the deepest part of the ocean. Kaelan, who had watched me with such intensity, who had made that claiming gesture that still haunted my dreams.
