Page 33 of Taken By the Storm King

The question hung between us, heavy with implications. Could they? And more importantly, could I survive without this---without him---now that I’d found it?

I traced my fingers over Thalassar’s scales, following the pattern where bronze skin gave way to gold and black. The texture fascinated me---smooth yet distinct under my fingertips. Nothing in my world compared to this, to him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his arm tightening around me.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

I propped myself up on one elbow, looking down at him in the blue-green light filtering through his chamber. “How nothing about this was in my mission briefing.”

He laughed, the sound reverberating through his chest against my palm. “And would you have believed it if it was?”

“Not a chance.” I ran my hand along the ridge of scales at his shoulder. “I came here looking for resources, not... this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?” The weight of his question settled between us, unspoken.

I swallowed. What was this? Something I’d never experienced before. Something impossible. “I don’t have a name for it yet.”

His expression softened as he reached up, threading his fingers through my hair. The contrast of his scaled hand against my dark strands made me shiver.

“Neither do I,” he admitted. “But I know I don’t want it to end.”

The words pierced something in me, something raw and tender. I leaned down, pressing my lips to his. “Me neither.”

When we broke apart, I sighed, settling my head on his chest. “But there are... complications.”

“Your mission?”

“That’s one.” I traced another scale pattern, reluctant to voice my other concerns. “Also the fact that your guards were shouting things I couldn’t understand when those creatures attacked me.”

Thalassar stiffened beneath me. “What do you mean?”

“During the attack---everyone was yelling. Orders, warnings maybe? But I caught none of it. I just stood there, useless, not knowing which way to move or who to trust.” The memory stung. “What if it happens again? What if next time someone gets hurt because I don’t understand?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers still moving through my hair. Then he sighed. “I’ve been thinking about this problem.”

“You have?”

He shifted, gently moving me aside as he sat up. “Wait here.”

The loss of his warmth left me suddenly cold in the room’s mild temperature. I pulled the silken covers over me, watching as Thalassar crossed the chamber naked, seemingly unconcerned with his state of undress. His muscular back rippled with scales that gleamed in the soft light.

He stopped at an ornate cabinet carved from some type of coral or stone I couldn’t identify. The patterns twisting across its surface reminded me of ocean currents. Thalassar input a sequence on a panel that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the cabinet slid open silently.

When he returned, he held something cupped in his palm.

“What’s that?” I asked, sitting up straighter.

Thalassar sat on the edge of the bed, his weight dipping the mattress toward him. “Something... rare.” He opened his hand to reveal a pearl-like object hanging from a delicate chain of woven silver strands.

Unlike the breathing pearl that had saved my life with its clear blue glow, this one held shifting hues—pinks, purples, greens, and blues shimmering beneath its surface.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“It’s called a memory pearl.” His thumb brushed over its surface. “Ancient technology from when my ancestors needed to communicate with other species that shared this world.”

“Something... rare.” His expression grew solemn. “And sacred. Few remain.”

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