Every step carried him closer to Lilani. Closer to Ariella. Closer to the confrontation that would determine whether he lived as a mated male with a family, or died trying to save them.
I’m coming,he repeated, hurling the thought through the bond.Both of you. I’m coming.
The response was faint—barely a whisper through the storm—but it was there. They were still alive. He ran faster.
The northern cliffs rose ahead, shrouded in rain and darkness, and somewhere beyond them waited a ship that could carry him into the heart of the tempest.
He would find them.
He would save them.
Or he would tear the world apart trying.
CHAPTER 22
The normalizing suit felt like a coffin made of wire and malice.
Ariella sat in the shuttle’s passenger cabin, her wrists bound to the armrests by elegant silver restraints that Merrick had called “safety precautions.” The suit clung to her body like a second skin—smooth, seamless, and devastating in its efficiency. Every inch of her modified flesh was compressed beneath its surface, her gills flattened against her neck, her bioluminescent patches dimmed to nothing.
She couldn’t breathe properly.
It’s not water, she reminded herself desperately.You’re breathing air. You know how to breathe air.
But the suit made even that difficult. It was designed to suppress everything that made her unique—her enhanced lung capacity, her bio-acoustic sonar, the very essence of her connection to the sea. What remained was something hollow and gasping, a shell wearing her face.
“You look lovely.”
Merrick’s voice slithered across the cabin, and she forced herself not to flinch. He sat across from her in a leather chair that probably cost more than her father’s entire laboratory, his legs crossed at the ankle, a crystal glass of amber liquid balanced in one hand The shuttle’s interior was all polished wood and soft lighting, designed to project wealth and sophistication even as the windows showed nothing but churning darkness.
“The suit does wonders for your complexion,” he continued, swirling his drink. “You almost look… normal.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“You can breathe perfectly well.” His tone was patient, paternal—the voice of a man explaining something obvious to a particularly slow child. “The suit simply prevents you from doing anything… inconvenient. We can’t have you trying to swim away during the ceremony, can we?”
Thunder rolled outside, and the shuttle shuddered slightly. Her pulse skipped nervously, but Merrick didn’t even glance towards the windows.
“Sir.” One of his mercenaries appeared in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral. “Captain’s reporting the weather’s getting worse. He’s recommending we delay departure until?—”
“We’re not delaying anything.” Merrick’s voice never rose above that terrifying whisper. “The arrangements in Port Cantor are finalized. The guests will be waiting. We leave now.”
“But sir, the storm?—”
“Is a minor inconvenience.” Flint-colored eyes turned towards the mercenary, and even across the cabin, she could see the man shrink. “I’ve invested too much time and too many resources to let a bit of weather derail my plans. Tell the captain to do his job, or I’ll find someone who can.”
The mercenary disappeared.
Merrick turned back to her, his expression smoothing into something that might have been a smile if it had reached his eyes.
“Don’t worry, my dear. Captain Voss has navigated far worse than this. We’ll be in Port Cantor by morning, and by noon tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs. Merrick Bane.” He took a delicate sip of his drink. “Your father will be free of his debts, and you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Everything I’ve ever wanted.
The words cut like broken glass.
She thought of Valrek—his golden eyes, his scarred hands, the way he’d held her like she was something precious rather than something to be owned. She thought of Lilani’s giggles and sticky hugs and endless questions about the Star Lady’s glowing stars. She thought of the sea cave at dawn, when the light filtered through the water and turned everything to gold.
That was what she wanted. A family. A home. A place where she belonged not because someone had paid for her, but because she was loved.
