Chapter 27 Lyx
TWENTY-SEVEN
Lyx
Lyx doesn’t look back when she escapes the alleyway. She keeps a steady pace toward the Indulgence, her limbs buzzing to take off sprinting.
Bet he’d fall over himself to give you anything you want — given the right motivation.
She forces her feet to slow. If Tidus is watching, she can’t prove him right. She cannot give away anything else. She cannot give him more reason to take interest in Cav.
There’s no reason to run. She saw Cav not an hour ago, and Tidus couldn’t possibly have gotten to him since then. Yet she can’t deny the strange urge pushing her forward, an insistence to lay eyes on Cav, to see for herself that he’s alive and well.
Along the dock, the crowd thickens. Lyx presses through the sea of bodies, but they jostle her off course until she can’t make out the Indulgence’s sails any longer. Her chest tightens. She’d almost call it panic, but panic is for people who can’t appreciate chaos.
Not her.
This is not the first time she’s raced to reach Cav before someone else. She remembers the last time with dizzying clarity, swimming from the feeding frenzy of sirens until her gills burned. She had to get to Cav before any of the others. She has to get to him before Tidus has a chance.
She shoves through the crowd. If anyone complains, she doesn’t hear them, honed on the tip of the Indulgence like a black marlin. It takes too long before she breaks through the throng of people. Her heart pounds until she sees him.
He’s fine. He’s fine, his eyes rolling at some comment from Lace. Lyx can finally take a breath, bracing her hand against a nearby pole.
She’s seen him. It should be enough to satisfy her, yet she can’t pull herself away.
Strange how she never noticed the restless charm in his movements before — or at least, never put words to it.
His smile twitches, thumb pressed to his canine, tail curling around his ankle.
It’s a relief to see him in motion. No one could replicate this, not when every movement is undoubtedly Cavalier.
Yet when Lyx slapped him, he was completely calm. All the thoughts drained from his head, and he melted at her feet, all that energy funneled into desire. She didn’t know he could be that still. She didn’t know she could bring him to that.
She didn’t know she’d crave both parts of him so eagerly.
The thought is so sudden and shocking that she jolts.
That’s when Cav looks at her. It’s like he hears her thoughts and knows some part of her is reaching toward him.
He wastes no time moving in her direction, and she knows she should move away, that she should get back on the ship and finish what she came here for… but she doesn’t.
Cav stops in front of her, his lips parted like there’s something he wants to say. It takes a moment before he does. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me.”
Scales lift on her arms. Depths, she’d forgotten everything she said in that damn hammock. It still feels like a fever dream. She wasn’t thinking straight. How could she with his mouth against her ear, his fingers inside her, him begging for more?
Weakly, she clears her throat. “That was a mistake.”
“It was honest. And I want to show you something.” He turns and makes his way into the crowd, the opposite direction from where Lyx came. Lyx can’t help but follow, but he doesn’t slow for her to catch up, instead slipping lithely through the mob of people.
Her brows knit. She catches glimpses of his bobbing horns before they disappear, and a familiar tingling spreads through her limbs.
Old instinct rushes back. Her breathing slows, senses sharpening until her attention fixates on the back of Cav’s head.
His auburn hair is secured behind him like a beacon calling to her.
No longer does the mass of bodies move Lyx; she moves with them, weaving as fluidly as water. She’s hunting Cav. It’s like it used to be, the thrill of the chase building in her chest. Her fingers flex, body primed and ready to track him down.
Ahead, Cav scans the crowd for her.
Lyx freezes. One of her eyes peeks out from behind a man’s hat, her gaze sharp and unblinking. She circles toward Cav, slow and smooth, until she’s almost close enough to touch him. If she reaches out, she could —
His eyes finally land on hers. She can only imagine what he sees: her pupils blown, fins twitching, face half obscured by someone else.
Whatever it is, he smiles.
Then he’s off again. His movements are faster now, and she picks up speed, scanning every blur of red for a sign of him. She loses him for an entire minute, searching frantically until his earrings glint in the corner of her vision.
Her mouth waters. He’s running from her.
Heat brands in her stomach. She darts through the crowd, eyes only for him.
The wooden slats of the dock give way to sand beneath her feet.
When the mass of people thins, there’s no sign of Cav.
She’s lost him. Swiveling, she scans the foliage until she catches the end of a red tail disappearing down the hill.
Her heart kicks up again. She follows him down, pushing plants aside and letting the leaves snap back into place.
The sounds and smells of the dock fade in the distance, replaced by crashing waves and sea air.
At the bottom of the hill is an oasis. Palm trees sway overhead, shading the natural pool carved into the smooth rocks.
Beside it, the tide comes in, almost close enough to touch.
Vibrant flowers sprout from the bushes, keeping the clearing hidden from the bustle of the pier.
Cav appears beside her. “Glad to see your prey drive is still intact.”
His presence is heady. All her synapses fire, still high from chasing him. She wants to finish it, to reach out and drag him down with her, but she stops herself. She pretends she can think of anything else. “So you admit I could destroy you.”
She swears the ground quakes when he looks at her. “I don’t think that was ever in doubt.”
Her skin glows brighter. She doesn’t understand it. She should be missing the tumult of the dock, yet she has no desire to go back. How can being alone with Cav make her feel more alive than the clamor of a hundred people?
She tears her gaze away from him and back to the pool. It’s twice her size and wide enough that she couldn’t reach both sides. “What is this? Your next experiment?”
Cav kneels to trail his hand through the pool.
“No. This is for you.” He rises to his feet and flicks water from his fingertips.
“I know you’ve been avoiding the ocean.” She opens her mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give her a chance.
“You don’t have to tell me why. But I thought this might be a way to dip your toes back in, if you’re not ready for the sea itself. ”
Her skin prickles. This saltwater must have flooded in during high tide.
Now that she looks closer, she can see the trenches dug through the rocks.
Water is like that, wearing down solid stone to get back to the sea.
It’s like the ocean knows every drop of water, missing them whenever they’re gone, and always calling them home.
Her toes curl in the sand. She’s spent so long imagining this that it became impossible, something that happened only in the safety of her mind.
There, she could prepare for anything, torturing herself with the thoughts again and again.
What if the ocean refuses to accept her?
What if her body transforms into something unfamiliar?
Or what if nothing happens at all? What if the sea doesn’t even recognize her anymore?
Shit. What if she’s forgotten how to swim?
That was how she paid her penance, running through those thoughts and making empty promises. I’ll get my song, and then I’ll return to the ocean. But she never got her song. And she never returned.
Leaves rustle behind her. When she turns, Cav is moving back up the pathway. “You’re leaving?” she asks, more desperate than she means to.
He pauses. “I thought you’d want me to.”
Her heart trips. She does want him to leave; she needs him to, because she knows what happens if he doesn’t. It’s one thing when it’s just talk, but it’s quite another to bear witness to exactly what she is.
“It’s for your benefit.” She rolls her shoulders back to steady herself. “You’d lose your appetite once you see what mine can do.”
Cav scoffs. “Like you could scare me off.”
She shakes her head, staring down through the clear water. “You act like you can handle anything. Like nothing in the world can make you flinch.”
“Nothing about you can.” He doesn’t take his time coming back down the hill; he slides through the sand, letting the momentum carry him. When he slows in front of her, his cheeks are flushed. “I asked for what’s real,” he murmurs. “I asked for you. I’m still asking.”
Her entire body heats. Foolish. He’s always been foolish, and this will be the time he finally learns.
She turns away and works her dress up to her waist. This is what she needs.
This will cut the ties between them, and he will finally abandon whatever threads of fate he believes are tying them together.
She tosses her clothing aside and steps into the pool. Water laps at her ankles, and it’s like the rivulets defy gravity, flowing up her legs to pull her in.
Her heart beats in her throat. Half of her wants to turn back, but there’s only one way to know.
She wades in until the water meets her calves, her thighs, her hips.
Her feet slip on the smooth rock, and it sends her under with a splash.
She can’t touch the bottom. The scare has turned her body against her, arms flailing as she sinks.
Aerated water swirls around her. She closes her mouth and shuts her eyes to brace for — what? Only when she stops moving does the water grow calm. Her ears ring with a noise that sounds like singing, and she swears she can feel every grain of salt prickling her skin.
Her lungs burn for air. She knows she has to breathe through her gills, but it’s been so long; the flaps on her neck refuse to open, clenched in fear.
Then the growing pains begin. It’s been years since her body stretched out of her human shape, but this cage has grown too small for her.
Pained groans and bubbles seep past her sharpening fangs.
Vicious spikes jut out from her forehead, a crown encircling the mass of tentacles her hair has become.
Her nose flattens to two slits for nostrils.
A large fin sprouts along her spine with webbing weaving between her taloned fingers.
Her legs are the biggest change, ballooning and fusing into a billowing dome with dozens of tendrils beneath. With this tail, she moves like a jellyfish, contracting muscles to propel herself through the water.
Hesitantly, she cracks one eye open. No longer is her vision blurry. Everything beneath the water appears with keen accuracy, though she knows her new eyes are foggy and glowing.
She can’t put it off any longer; she has to breathe.
At long last, she flares her gills, and water rushes over them.
She nearly chokes. It’s been so long since she felt this, something that was once so familiar now strange and unusual.
It comes back to her quickly. No matter how long she’s been away, this is what she knows best. It is what she has always been.
She is finally home.
She soaks in the feeling. It’s tempting to stay under forever, ignoring all the reasons why she can’t.
When the tide comes back in, she could slip out of the pool and back into the sea.
She’d never have to surface and see the look on Cav’s face.
She’d never have to watch his uncertainty spreading into horror when he recognizes that the truth of her is more than he can handle.
But she wants to see him break. She needs that finality to push her back on track. She wants the image of Cav’s revulsion branded in her mind for when it tries to wander back to thoughts of him.
With a final breath, she pushes upward. Without the insulation of the water, everything is louder. She can’t be sure Cav’s still behind her. Maybe he’s gone. Maybe he reconsidered and fled.
Slowly, she turns. From this distance, she can make out only a blurry image of the land. Pops of colorful flowers sit on a backdrop of greens and beige with a molten red figure in the middle.
Lyx can’t read his expression. She keeps still, the bell of her tail undulating beneath the water.
Cav doesn’t move. A sour taste rises in Lyx’s mouth, and her lip curls to remind him he asked for this, that he thought he wanted it so badly — but then, he speaks. He sounds like he did the first day in the grotto, like she’s his savior, a myth brought to life, a legend and fantasy all at once.
“You look just like the ocean feels.”