She helped me steady my footing on the slick stairs, the firm grip of her hand a testament to her worry. “I saw him holding you and…I feared the worst.”
I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Ky’rn wouldn’t hurt me,” I whispered, though the statement was more for me than for her.
We descended the stairs slowly, her arm slung protectively around my waist. The gravity of what had just occurred seemed to hang in the silence between us.
“You need to be careful, Isla,” she urged gently. “Regardless of your connection, he’s still a wild creature. We don’t fully understand him or his intentions.”
“I know,” I admitted, frowning. “But deep down, he doesn’t want to hurt me. He’s lonely, Violet. Like me.”
She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Come on,” she murmured, “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”
With one last lingering look, feeling the power of that silent promise between Ky’rn and me, I finally turned away. Each step took me further from the tank, but I couldn’t shake the sensation that those amber eyes of his were still fixed upon me, watching my every move, even as the heavy doors slammed shut behind me.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
ISLA
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I stood in the private gun range in my grandfather’s sprawling research facility. The question of why he needed such a facility, especially one as high-tech as this, had always gnawed at me. He claimed to be studying the mysterious artifacts he’d collected over the years, restoring them to their former glory.
But something about it had never added up.
The sterile room was dimly lit, the walls lined with cutting-edge equipment and screens displaying its users’ data. In the center was a shooting range, far more advanced than any I’d seen outside these walls. The targets were a series of holographic screens that could simulate various scenarios, from simple stationary targets to moving ones. My grandfather had spared no expense in creating this facility, always needing the best, which was more for show of power than necessity.
I adjusted my grip on the handgun, a sleek and deadly piece of technology that felt incongruous in my hand. I had never been particularly comfortable around firearms, but recent events had forced me to become proficient in their use.
With a deep breath, I took aim at the holographic target downrange. My fingers tightened on the trigger, and the gun barked to life, sending a hail of rounds toward the target. The recoil was sharp, but I held my stance, squeezing off controlled shots.
After nearly dying once, I would never be caught helpless again. If I’d been targeted as the heir to my family’s business, it would only get worse once I took over.
The holographic target danced with each hit, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction as my aim homed in on the bullseye. Each shot was precise, a testament to the training I’d undergone in secret over the last year, against my grandfather’s wishes.
He thought it was unladylike of me to carry a weapon, and that I was insulting him and his security by assuming they couldn’t defend me.
They had failed once, I refused to let it happen again. Instead of relying on others, I would protect myself if necessary.
I shot my last round, and as the echo of the gunshot reverberated through the range, I felt some of my stress ebb away. My hands were steady, and my aim was true, the bullet hitting dead center.
As I lowered the gun, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. There was something undeniably empowering about handling a weapon with precision. A rush of blood pulsed through me, leaving me feeling strangely alive. I rolled my shoulders back, trying to release the tension that had built up during my target practice.
But the moment of triumph was fleeting. Thoughts of Ky’rn came rushing back, as they often did in unguarded moments like these. It had been days since I’d last seen him, and the guilt stabbed at my heart like a jagged blade.
Despite my heart-wrenching decision to keep Ky’rn at a distance and protect him, I couldn’t shake the heavy weight of guilt and longing gnawing at my conscience. It was a crazy notion, but I found myself missing him more than I ever thought possible. Every fiber of my being yearned for him—to see him again, but my mind told me it was for the greater good. Resisting his magnetic pull felt like an impossible task, yet I knew it was necessary for both our sakes.
My grandfather was suspicious of me, and I needed time to sort through my thoughts, to figure out a way to see Ky’rn without the ever-watchful eyes of my grandfather and his security on me.
I knew I had to sort out my thoughts and figure out a way to see him without putting him in danger. I couldn’t let my growing feelings for him cloud my judgment, not when there were so many unanswered questions about my grandfather’s—and even Roman’s—true intentions.
As I stood there, catching my breath, loud claps suddenly pierced the air, snapping me out of my thoughts. Startled, I lowered the weapon and spun around, my eyes widening in surprise. My heart raced as I found Roman standing in the doorway, an unsettling smile playing on his lips. He was flanked by two guards dressed in black, unfamiliar and unsettling.
I swallowed hard. “Roman, what’s going on?”
“Who knew the princess of the sea could shoot a gun?” His gaze shifted from me to the holographic target I had riddled with bullets, and he let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Nice shot. I wouldn’t want to come up against you…but that’s why I have my guards to do my bidding.” He gestured casually to the pair of black-clad men who stood stoically beside him.
“Your guards don’t look like they’ve swum with real sharks,” I retorted, sliding the safety on my gun and holstering it. I met his gaze head-on, challenging.
Roman smirked. “You’d be surprised, Princess. They’ve seen their fair share of danger. Besides, they’re not here for you. They’re here for protection.”
