Levi joins me, handing me a steaming mug of coffee. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.
I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, grateful for its comforting heat. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re here and that I’m okay.”
“Me too.” Levi’s voice is soft, and when I glance up, his eyes are intense with an emotion I can’t quite name. “You gave me quite a fright when I saw you were injured. The fact that you could’ve been killed in that squall… “He trails off, shaking his head. “Well, what matters is that you’re safe now.”
We lean against the railing of the houseboat, sipping our coffee and watching the gentle waves. There’s a weight of unspoken words between us, questions I want to ask but don’t know how to voice.
“Levi,” I say eventually, my voice hesitant. “Have you ever… seen anything strange in the water? Anything you couldn’t explain?”
He turns to look at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “The ocean is vast and ancient,” he says finally. “I think there are many things in it that we can’t explain. Why do you ask?”
I shake my head, managing a rueful smile. “No reason. Just… wondering, I guess.”
We turn back to the water, lost in our thoughts. The silence between us feels heavy with unspoken things. I catch him watching me every so often, his eyes soft with concern.
I catch him staring at me again, and he gestures toward my chest. “Sorry, I noticed your necklace. I don’t think I’ve seen that pendant before. It’s beautiful.”
I look down, my fingers automatically finding the smooth stone that hangs from a simple silver chain. “It’s labradorite. I picked it up in town earlier.”
I hold it up, and it catches the light, revealing flashes of blue and green beneath its gray surface. “I was drawn to the way it changes color, like the ocean.”
Levi leans closer to examine it, and for a moment, I’m acutely aware of his proximity.
“It suits you,” he says softly, before settling back in his seat.
I don’t realize how long we’ve been sitting until I lift my mug and find the coffee has gone cold. The movement makes my head throb, reminding me of everything I’ve been through.
“You should rest,” Levi says gently, noticing my wince. “You’ve had quite an ordeal. Maybe you should lie down?”
“I’m not that tired,” I say, though a yawn betrays me. “I just want to relax for a few minutes. Would you… would you stay? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Levi looks at me for a long moment, something conflicted in his eyes. Finally, he nods. “Of course,” he says softly. “I’ll stay as long as you need.”
Relief washes over me as we settle onto the cushioned outdoor couch. I know I’m being needy, but I can’t help it. The gentle rock of the houseboat and Levi’s steady presence beside me are oddly comforting. I close my eyes, just for a moment…
The next thing I know, the sky is painted in brilliant hues of indigo and orange. Levi is gone, but a blanket is tucked securely around me. I sit up, my head clearer now, though the day’s events still feel somewhat dreamlike.
Watching the sun set over the harbor, I sort through what happened. The rational part of my brain wants to dismiss it – wants to say I was confused, oxygen-deprived, scared. But I know what I felt. Those tentacles had been real and solid around my waist. That massive shadow beneath my kayak had moved with purpose, with intelligence. My head might have been bleeding, but my mind had been clear enough. A giant octopus – a kraken – had saved my life. It sounds impossible, but I have to trust what I experienced. The world, it seems, is far more extraordinary than I’d imagined.
Rising from the couch, I’m drawn to the edge of the deck. Leaning over the railing, I whisper into the darkness, “Thank you.” The words feel inadequate for the magnitude of what happened, but they’re all I have.
For a moment, nothing happens. Then, a soft splash breaks the silence, followed by a ripple on the water’s surface. My heart races as I peer into the dark water, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of… something. But the water remains stubbornly opaque, revealing nothing of what might lurk beneath.
CHAPTER 13
Rose
As I start my coffee machine, I gently prod the bandage behind my ear. I want to believe yesterday was just a strange dream, but the dull ache in my head and the bandage Levi applied are tangible reminders that it was all too real.
Stretching, I make my way to the back deck, coffee in hand. The harbor is peaceful this early. The water is like a sheet of glass, reflecting the soft morning light. I sink into the cushions of the outdoor couch where I’d napped yesterday, setting my coffee on the side table, ready to savor the quiet morning. My eyes drift to Levi’s houseboat, hoping to catch a glimpse of him when something else catches my eye.
There, propped against the railing, is my waterproof bag – the one I was sure had been lost to the ocean.
I rush over, my coffee forgotten on the small table. With trembling hands, I open the bag, hardly daring to hope. All my belongings, including my phone and camera, are completelydry and seemingly unharmed. A relieved laugh, bordering on hysteria, escapes me.
Another impossible sight greets me as I straighten, clutching my recovered possessions. The paddle – the one that had been torn from my grasp by the storm – is now neatly strapped to the kayak.
My mind reels. There’s only one explanation. My mysterious rescuer must have returned these items during the night. But as I process this, I’m struck by an even more astounding realization. My kraken didn’t just bring my things back – it brought them to the correct houseboat in the right marina. It remembered where I live and understood I’d want my belongings back.
