Page 50 of Claimed By the Deep
"Three nights," I confirm. "Northern cove, after midnight."
He nods, but instead of disappearing right away, he reaches up with both hands, shifted now to look more human. I lean down to meet him halfway. His cool fingers frame my face as he pulls me closer.
"This isn't goodbye," he whispers against my lips. "Just a detour."
When he kisses me, it says everything we're not putting into words. The fear, the determination to protect what we've found, how much even a short separation is going to hurt. I grip his shoulders hard enough to leave marks, like I could somehow keep him with me by holding tight enough.
When we break apart, his eyes lock with mine, intense enough to burn. "No research boat, no nosy journalist, no scientific expedition gets to take this from us. What we have is worth fighting for."
"Worth everything," I agree, letting him go even though every instinct fights against it.
He starts to sink back, our hands the last things touching, fingers tangled until the water finally separates them. Just before his head goes under, he pauses.
"Be careful, Meri. These researchers might seem harmless, but curiosity without ethics gets dangerous fast. Watch what you say, what you do, what gear you use. Don't give them anything that points to me or to us."
Then he's gone, nothing but ripples showing he was ever there.
As I get ready to head back, the weight of our new reality sinks in. The freedom we've enjoyed these past months is over, replaced by constant vigilance. The safety I'd started taking for granted was never as solid as I thought.
But I can still feel his kiss, his cool touch on my face. What we share isn't just some diving partnership or business deal. It'ssomething deeper, more real. Something worth protecting no matter what.
I think about our nights in hidden coves, talking about his world and mine, the perfect way his tentacles wrap around me. Losing any of that, even temporarily, hurts worse than any business setback ever could.
As Deep Pockets slips out of the cove, I watch the dark water with new awareness of what's hidden below. Not just Cyreus, but everything we've built between us. A connection that's now facing its first real threat.
Brian Donovan and his research team think they're hunting some weird marine phenomenon, a scientific curiosity. What they don't get is they're threatening something a hell of a lot more important. A relationship that shouldn't even be possible. A connection that turned two lonely lives into something neither of us could have had alone.
And that's something I'll fight like hell to protect.
Cyreus
TWENTY THREE
Ihave survived in Earth's oceans for nearly a century. I have endured storms that would shatter ships, pressure depths that would crush human submarines, and temperatures that would kill most surface dwellers in minutes.
Yet the steps from the shoreline to Meri's back door prove more challenging than any of these.
Each moment in full human form on dry land depletes me. The air that’s so light compared to water offers no support for my altered biology. Gravity exerts its relentless pull, forcing constant adjustments from muscles evolved for oceanic buoyancy. Worse still is the moisture loss; my skin, designed for aquatic environments, craves hydration despite the evening's humid air.
Still, I continue forward. Three days without her has left an emptiness I never anticipated. After decades of solitude, the sudden absence of her presence feels like losing a limb.
The research vessel's aggressive patrols have rendered our usual meeting places too risky. Their submersible drones map the seafloor with alarming precision, their sonar pings scatteringmarine life across the region. Yesterday, one nearly detected me while I monitored their activities from what should have been a safe distance.
Which explains why I now find myself here, on land, approaching the small weathered cottage Meri calls home—a risk neither of us would have considered before Brian Donovan's arrival forced our hand.
I reach her back door dressed in mismatched clothing salvaged from beaches over the years: a fisherman's faded sweater, canvas pants from a capsized sailboat, boots washed ashore after last winter's storm. My collection of human garments remains limited but functional, stored in a dry cave for rare emergencies requiring terrestrial appearance. The one where I first took Meri.
Drawing a breath to steady myself, I knock softly.
Something shatters inside, followed by quick footsteps. The door flies open to reveal Meri, her face transforming from alarm to astonishment.
"Cyreus?" Her voice barely carries. "What are you—how did you—"
"Surprise." I attempt a smile despite the growing discomfort of dry air on my skin.
She pulls me inside immediately, closing the door and drawing curtains with swift, efficient movements that speak volumes about her own tension.
"I can't believe you're here." Her gaze travels over me, disbelief giving way to wonder. "I never thought—I mean, I know you said it was possible, but—"
