Chapter 30 Cav
THIRTY
Cav
They take their time leaving the pool. Once the sun has set, Cav helps Lyx onto the sand.
He sits behind her while she transforms, his chest pressed to her back.
Her entire body tenses. If changing in front of him was difficult, he can only imagine what it’s like to have him this close during the transformation.
She grits her teeth at the growing pains, but he stays with her, massaging the muscles in her newly-formed legs.
Her knees wobble when she dresses, so he loops an arm around her waist to support her back to the ship.
Once they hear the buzz of activity on the docks, she slips out of his grip to walk on her own, but her pace is different.
She idles closer than before, the backs of her knuckles brushing his wrist.
By the time they reach the Indulgence, the party is in full swing.
It’s easy to slip into the crowd and weave toward the hatchway, but he senses a change in Lyx’s demeanor.
She puts space between them. Her shoulders are tight, eyes darting toward everyone else onboard, like they might somehow see how exposed she’s been.
He’d like nothing more than to follow her, but the gravity of what they shared is not lost on him. She looks skittish and raw and desperate for breathing room. He slows his pace and catches her hand until she turns to face him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.
Relief washes over her, followed by a mix of emotions that seem to confound her. She retreats below deck, but not before giving him a lingering look that leaves his entire body tingling.
With a dopey smile, he floats across the deck and into the hammock. He can’t be bothered to entertain tonight. The sounds of the ship fade into a hum that matches the honeysweet drizzle of his memories.
He never expected what happened today. At the beginning of this, his time with Lyx felt like a tug of war where he would gain ground just to lose it, but as the days pass, he thinks she’s starting to let him win.
When he tugs her closer, she doesn’t pull as far away.
When he asks for the truth, she is finally giving it to him. He gave her something real, too.
I’m in love with you.
Remembering it makes him flush, the weight of his words settling into him. He could pretend he said it to play along with her, to give her what she demanded, but that’s a lie. He is in love with her. He doesn’t remember what it’s like not to be. He doesn’t want to remember.
Sirens can’t fall in love, the voice of reason tries to remind him, but that voice has always been weak for him.
Now, it can barely get a word out before his other thoughts come rushing in.
When Cav confessed, Lyx didn’t run away.
She didn’t toy with him. She asked questions.
She was curious. When he described it, she looked him in the eyes and fell apart in his arms.
That feels like the furthest thing from impossible.
Cav falls asleep drunk on that hope, dreaming of Lyx’s siren form. He pricks his fingers on her fangs and watches her lick the blood away. He traces the ridge of her finned ears with his tongue. He drifts tangled in her tentacles until someone shakes him awake.
Cav can barely make out Colt rubbing his tired eyes. It’s not quite daylight, but he can see the tops of stone buildings beside the ship. Scowling, Cav tries to roll over back into his dreams, but Colt nudges him again and grumbles, “Restock.”
Cav exhales. Right. That’s what he gets for agreeing to help with early morning cargo.
Reluctantly, he hoists himself out of the hammock and winces at the twinge in his shoulder.
By the time he walks down the gangplank, Heathen and Cypher are bent over a piece of parchment, checking off inventory.
Cav lifts one of the boxes and turns back to the ship, but Heathen picks up a barrel and falls into step beside him.
They move back and forth between the dock and the deck, working in silence.
Well, Heathen works in silence, listening to any topic Cav meanders into.
While his thoughts feel like a stream attached to his mouth, the act of speaking requires much more effort from Heathen.
It’s a comfortable understanding between them.
After countless trips up and down the gangplank, Heathen leans against the ship’s railing to catch her breath. “You haven’t mentioned your experiment lately.”
Cav scrounges up two cups of water and hands one to her. Heathen tilts her mug back, and the two of them stay like that for a minute. “You’re right,” Cav pants. “I haven’t.”
He doesn’t know why he’s nervous, like he’s done something wrong. He knows Heathen will ask what they want to know, yet a flood of thoughts threaten to spill out of him. He forces his lips shut.
Heathen takes another drink. “Is it going well?”
Cav sets his cup aside. It would be easy to give a throwaway answer, but he’s anything but indifferent.
There’s something inside him that he’s beginning to understand, pieces of a puzzle he didn’t realize he was putting together.
“We have been experimenting,” he assures her.
“We’ve tried new things. We’ve explored…
desires we’ve never shared with anyone else.
” He’s falling into distraction, but he can’t help it.
With Lyx, he feels alive again, blazing trails he’s imagined for so long.
“And you’ve been safe?” Heathen continues.
Cav’s mouth twists. “I’ve taken more time preparing. I’ve slowed things down. It’s not perfect, but it’s better.”
“That’s an improvement,” Heathen says, but she’s watching him like she knows there’s something more he wants to say.
Maybe he shouldn’t. He could get away with this conversation and refocus on the experiment, but that doesn’t hold his attention. His heart’s not in it; it’s in something else.
“But you were right,” he sighs. “I’m not as dedicated as I should be. I’m doing it selfishly. I’m not trying to gain insight or make changes to the Indulgence. I’m doing it for me.”
Heathen looks concerned, but she doesn’t speak. Cav leans back against the railing and lets the weight of recognition settle over him.
“Even after I joined this crew, I’ve always been missing something. Something that keeps me on my toes. Something to captivate me. Something that makes me feel the way Lyx does.”
That’s what it really comes down to. Cav has never found his role on this ship because he’s been searching for Lyx in everything he does.
That thrilling feeling she gives, the challenges she presents, the way she captivates him.
She is the place his flighty mind can land and pour into.
He may have been moving forward the past two years, but he was always looking back at her.
“I do need something to guide me.” He braces his hands against the railing.
“A beacon. A purpose. Lyx is that for me.” Heathen’s mouth opens, but he cuts them off.
“I know that’s not what you want to hear.
I told you I could keep my feelings out of it, but I can’t.
I’ve never been able to keep that wall up like you can. I’m sorry.”
Cav can’t face the disappointment in her eyes. He searches the shore for anything else to look at. Merchants unlock their doors and wave to each other in the dawn light. Chickens peck at worms in the dirt. On a nearby ship, a blue flag snaps in the wind.
Eventually, Heathen sidles up beside Cav.
She stares out across the same scene, but from the corner of Cav’s eyes, he can tell she’s not really looking at it.
“It’s harder than it seems,” Heathen says slowly, “maintaining lines when there are emotions involved. I do understand that. I should have approached this differently.”
The way they say it, he could almost believe they know what he means. Heathen has always appeared unflappable, led by facts and figures. Cav can’t imagine a world where she’d allow herself to be led by her heart instead of her head.
“I still think the experiment is worthwhile,” he murmurs. “It’s the kind of change we need. It opens people up. Lets them try things they never have before.” His mouth twists. “Maybe we were both wrong about the Indulgence.”
Heathen lifts a brow.
Cav continues uncertainly. “People don’t come here because they know what to expect — at least, not with sex.
They don’t come here for monotony, but they don’t come here for the risk, either.
They come here because it’s safe. Because whatever happens, they know they’ll be taken care of. That’s the real beauty of this ship.”
The words stir in Cav’s chest before they foam out of him.
“It’s a comfort. It’s a place where people can try things. Test their limits. Be themselves. That’s why there’s always a crowd to come aboard. That’s why we still stop at the islands that refuse us. Because there are people who need an escape, and the Indulgence gives them that. It gives us that.”
Heathen’s expression changes, looking over the deck like they’re seeing it with new eyes.
Cav’s voice softens. “This was the first ship that didn’t want me to hide some part of myself. Where I didn’t have to worry about how I dressed or what people noticed first. I could just exist.”
Heathen’s fingers flex. Cav may not be privy to the details of her history, but he’s always sensed a kinship between them. There’s a reason why a banshee would set out on their own, forgoing their religious order and all the rules that come with it.
After a moment, Heathen lets out a long breath. “I have not appreciated your wisdom enough, Cav.”
He scoffs. “Let’s not get carried away. I still failed this experiment.”
“Yes, but…” Heathen drums her fingers on the railing. “You’ve unearthed something that I hadn’t given enough thought to.” When she turns to him again, there’s a meaningful look in her eyes. “Let’s get to the end of our route, and we’ll figure out what happens next. Your venture still has merit.”