Page 14 of Claimed By the Deep
For a moment I think he's going to refuse, going to retreat back into careful half-truths and deflection. Then something in his expression shifts, resolve replacing fear.
"Not here," he says. "If you truly want to see, it should be in open water. Somewhere you can escape if you change your mind."
"I won't change my mind."
"You might."
He swims toward another passage, larger than the others, where I can see light filtering down from above. I follow him toward the light, my heart racing with anticipation and a kind of exhilaration I've never felt before. Whatever he's about to show me, whatever truth has been hiding beneath the waves, I'm ready for it.
I think.
***
The final passage leads us upward through crystal-clear water that grows brighter with each stroke. When we break the surface, I find myself in the sheltered cove where I anchored Deep Pockets hours ago. The storm clouds gather overhead, dark and heavy with rain, but the towering cliffs protect this space from the worst of the weather.
Deep Pockets floats peacefully at anchor, exactly as I left her. Relief floods through me at the sight.
"She's safe," I say, swimming toward my vessel with powerful strokes.
"As promised." Cyreus says with a nod. "I made sure she would be safe while you recovered."
I don't bother asking how he managed that. If I did, he'd just give me another cryptic non-answer anyway.
I reach the dive platform and haul myself up, water streaming from my wetsuit. When I turn back to look for Cyreus, I see he's remained in the water, keeping a deliberate twenty feet between himself and my boat.
"Aren't you coming up?" I ask.
The question seems to hurt him. He drifts slightly farther away, creating more distance rather than less.
"This is as far as I go."
Disappointment drops like a stone in my stomach. "What do you mean?"
"This is where we say goodbye." The words sound like they're being ripped from him. "For now."
"No." The refusal bursts out of me, coming from somewhere deep and instinctive. "You can't just... we haven't finished talking. You promised to show me what you really are. You promised."
"I did show you. I told you I'm not entirely human. That should be enough."
"Telling isn't showing." I cross my arms, planting myself firmly at the edge of the platform. "And you know it."
"I'm protecting you."
"From what?"
He doesn't answer right away. Water laps against the platform in the silence. "From me," he finally says. "From what I am. From choices you're not ready to make."
I kick off my fins and move to the very edge of the platform, closing the gap between us as much as possible without getting back in the water. "What if I want to make those choices?"
Something shifts in his expression—hope fighting with caution. A century of loneliness reflected in eyes that have seen more of Earth's oceans than any human explorer could dream of.
"You don't understand what you're asking."
"Then explain it to me."
The water around him begins to change, phosphorescence swirling in patterns that definitely aren't natural. His control is slipping, the human facade he's maintained beginning to crack around the edges.
"Meri," he says, and my name carries the harmonic undertones that mark him as other. "What you've seen today... what you think you know about me... it's just the beginning."
