I’m still seeing all of those photos, lost in the memories they’ve dredged up, and struck again with the realization that since the time those pictures were taken, I’ve never felt this free to decide who and what I want to be.
The realization hits me with breath-stealing clarity. Despite all the other shit going on—or maybebecauseof all the other shit going on—I’ve been waking up these past few weeks, realizing what I want to dictate my life and what I don’t.
Making a split-second decision and not giving myself any time at all to second-guess, I cross the room and step out into the hallway. As I approach Elias’s door, I knock softly and put my ear to the dark wood, but I can’t hear anything and don’t get any reply, so I try the handle. It opens, and I step inside.
Elias’s room is enormous. I’ve only been in here a couple of times, but walking in now still takes my breath away.
A wall of windows lines the far side of the space, looking out over the backyard all the way to the water’s edge. Also at the side of the room, a large saltwater pool that goes from in- to outdoors through a glass partition.
Padding softly inside, the tile floor is cool beneath my feet, made of dark gray slate that sets the tone for the rest of the colors in the room. Everything is decorated in dark grays and blues, and with the lights in the pool shining through the softly rippling water, it gives the whole place the feeling of being at the bottom of the sea.
This place feels like Elias.
The darkness of him, the cool kiss of the ocean, the steadiness and comfort of being cradled by the gentle push and pull of waves.
“Hello?” I call out, venturing a little further inside. “Elias?”
I don’t get an answer, and it doesn’t take me long to figure out why. The surface of the pool ripples slightly, and I can just make out the distorted shape of something huge and dark beneath the water.
My breath catches in my throat.
There’s no reply, no sound but my soft footsteps on the tile floor and the water lapping at the side of the pool. When I get closer, I see a couple of tentacles resting on the edge of the pool, but with the shifting water, I can’t fully make out the kraken beneath the surface.
If the size of him is any indication, though, he’s in a full shift, and I’m not sure I’m breathing at all as I lean in to get a better look. His words about being fully in his other form echo in my mind.
I’ll show you sometime, if you’d like to see… Maybe I’ll be there, waiting in those depths to strike and carry you off to a sea cave where I can ravish you completely.
Heart thumping in deep, aching beats, I crouch down low.
Like he can sense I’m near, the tentacle on the side of the pool unfurls and stretches toward me. I reach out, stroking his cool, soft skin with my breath still caught in my throat.
“Elias?”
Faster than I can react, that same tentacle snaps up and bands around my wrist, tugging me toward the water.
23
Elias
When Nora’s hand strokes my tentacle, I’m in a full shift.
I don’t often indulge in the shift, at least not here, but after the last few days I desperately needed to get out of my own head for a while. Being so close to Nora, keeping a leash on myself—though make no mistake, I’d be as careful as she needs me to be for as long as she needs me to be—after a while it starts to grate.
Letting the kraken take over usually eases some of that tension.
The monster isn’t exactly separate from me, but he’s got his own mind and his own concerns. He’s protective of our mate, too, but also tuned in to other things. In the open ocean he hunts, stalking his prey through the deep, and the feeling of that freedom is incomparable.
However, when he feels Nora’s gentle fingers stroking, seeking, he’s just as greedy for her as I am.
I’m able to pull back into a half-shift before I send her careening into the pool, but I still sputter a little as I come up for air and release her wrist.
“Nora,” I say, coughing around a mouthful of water. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” she says quickly. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”
Unbelievably, she doesn’t look horrified at what I’ve just done, or by the fact that standing above the water, she must have gotten at least a glimpse of me in my full shift. Instead of disgust, she has a smile on her face as she reaches out again to close her hand around my tentacle, stroking it lightly.
“I didn’t mean to stay in so long,” I tell her, trying to ignore the feel of her skin on mine.