Chapter 4
Ishouldn’t be here, Ariella thought, even as she climbed out of the water onto the beach at the base of the cliffs.
The sun was barely above the horizon but between trying to come up with a way out of Merrick’s trap and worrying about the child, she’d barely slept.
As soon as the sky began to lighten she slipped out of bed and headed back up the coast.
The storm had passed during the night and the morning air was still except for the gentle lapping of the waves and the distant cry of a seabird. The beach was littered with debris—kelp, driftwood, shattered shells—but it looked almost peaceful, the sand smoothed into a clean canvas by the waves.
I shouldn’t be here, she thought again, hating how weak it made her feel. But the image of the little girl, face pale and still, the desperate fear on her father’s face, was a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t loosen. She had to know. She had to be sure that the child was all right.
She’s alive, she reminded herself. I checked her heartbeat. I felt her breathing. She was just unconscious, not—
Not dead. Not like the others she’d found in the deep places. Drowned sailors and lost divers, bodies that washed into the trenches and never came out again.
Stop it. She’s fine. Focus.
She found the path almost immediately, a narrow, almost invisible track that wound its way up the face of the cliff. The rock was still damp from the rain, the holds slick with spray, but her bare feet easily gripped the rocks as she climbed.
The entrance to the cave was concealed behind a curtain of stone that blended seamlessly with the surrounding rock. There was no door, and she hesitated uneasily for a moment before walking through the narrow opening.
The path opened into a wider corridor, and her breath caught.
She’d expected a cave, a hole in the rock where a desperate male might shelter with his daughter, cold and damp and miserable. What she found instead was a home.
She passed a storage area with shelves carved into the rock that held supplies, tools, and a wide variety of provisions.
A small alcove followed, with thick, beautifully tanned furs covering the floor and more caved shelves holding what looked like handmade toys.
Another, larger alcove held a huge bed platform covered with more furs, and her pulse suddenly sped up before she hurried past it to what appeared to be the main chamber.
Rough-hewn walls curved upward into a natural dome, with small angled openings in the dome letting in the morning sunlight, and adding to the warm light from a central fire pit.
A cooking area occupied one wall, complete with hanging pots and dried herbs.
Woven curtains framed a smaller sleeping area close to the fire.
It was warm. It was dry. It smelled like smoke and earth and something wild—something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention.
Him, she realized. It smells like him.
“What are you doing here?”
He stepped out of the darkness next to the sleeping area, and her breath caught again
He was fully human now, tall and broad-shouldered, with a mane of dark hair that fell around a face that was all sharp angles and fierce planes. No, not human, she corrected herself a moment later. The lines of his face were too strong, the angles subtly wrong, his fangs obvious when he spoke.
He prowled towards her, huge and dangerous, golden eyes glowing. Her pulse beat a frantic rhythm but it wasn’t entirely from fear.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “I was just—I wanted to make sure she was—”
“She is none of your concern.”
“She almost drowned.”
“And you pulled her from the water. For which I—” He stopped. His jaw worked, like the words were fighting to stay inside. “For which I am… grateful. I am in your debt.”
Debt. Like she’d done it for payment. Like she’d saved a drowning child because she expected something in return.
A sudden bright anger flared through her, her bioluminescence flaring. “It wasn’t a transaction. I heard her. I went to help. That’s what people do.”
“No they don’t.” His lip curled, revealing more of his fangs. “Humans don’t help Vultor.”
He stopped a few feet from her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and catch the wild scent that clung to him like a second skin.
Her bioluminescence suddenly dimmed to a soft, uncertain blue, but before she could respond to his accusations, a small, sleepy voice came from behind the curtain.
“Papa?”
His entire demeanor changed. The dangerous tension in his shoulders eased, and the fierce look in his eyes softened into something that made her chest ache as the little girl appeared.
“I’m here, little one. You’re safe. You’re home.”
“My head hurts.”
“I know. You hit it on the rocks. Do you remember what happened?”
The small face scrunched in concentration. Then her eyes went wide.
“The wave! Papa, the wave was so big, and I fell, and then—” Her gaze landed on Ariella, and whatever fear or confusion had been building in her expression vanished beneath a smile of pure, uncomplicated joy. “The star lady!”
Star lady?
Before she could process the name, the girl had scrambled to her feet—ignoring her father’s protests—and crossed the cave at a dead run. Tiny arms wrapped around Ariella’s waist, the small body warm and alive against her.
She froze, her hands hovering in the air, unsure where to land. No one had touched her like this since she was a child, before the modifications had set her apart.
“You saved me! I was drowning and you came and you glowed. Like the stars but underwater,” the girl said into the fabric of Ariella’s diving suit. “Are you a star? Papa, is she a star?”
He made a sound that might have been a growl or might have been a groan. “Lilani—”
“She’s so pretty. And look at her fingers! They’re webbed, like a fish! Can you breathe underwater? I tried to breathe underwater once and Papa got very scared and I wasn’t allowed to swim by myself for a whole month.”
The words tumbled out in an endless stream, half-muffled against Ariella’s body.
And beneath the words, she could hear something else, in a frequency most humans couldn’t perceive.
Lilani’s heartbeat was too fast and her breathing was too shallow.
The shock of her near-death experience still haunted her, even as her mouth chattered on about stars and fish and forbidden swimming.
Without even thinking, she released her Song.
The hum started low in her chest, below the range of normal hearing, but spread outwards from her core, through her body, into the small frame pressed against her.
She adjusted the frequency, finding the resonance that would slow a racing heart and ease a shocked mind towards calm.
Lilani’s grip on her waist loosened slightly as her breathing deepened. The frantic chatter slowed, then stopped, replaced by a soft sigh.
“That feels nice,” the girl murmured. “Like being rocked. Like the ocean when it’s being friendly.”
Ariella kept humming, kept the vibration steady, and looked up to find the Vultor staring at her.
His expression was… she didn’t have words for it.
But his golden eyes burned brighter and his body went very, very still.
The vibration was affecting him too, though he fought against it.
His massive hands unclenched and his shoulders dropped from their defensive hunch.
His head tilted slightly, trying to identify the new sound.
“What…” His voice came out rough, uncertain. “What are you doing?”
She let the hum fade slowly, easing Lilani out of its effects rather than dropping it abruptly. “Calming her. She was going into shock. The body remembers trauma even when the mind tries to push past it.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“You felt it though. Didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer. But the slight flare of his nostrils and the way his gaze dropped to her throat told her everything she needed to know.
Lilani had gone boneless against her, not asleep but deeply relaxed, her small body trusting in a way that made Ariella’s heart ache. When was the last time anyone had trusted her like this? When was the last time anyone had touched her without clinical detachment or scientific curiosity?
Too long, something whispered. Too long, and you know it.
“She should rest,” she said softly. “The cut isn’t deep, but she swallowed seawater and her body’s been through a lot.
Keep her warm. Watch for signs of infection.
And…” She hesitated, then pressed on. “Talk to her. Let her tell you what happened, even if she tells it a hundred times. The mind heals by repeating things until they lose their power.”
He was so close she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes—she wasn’t short, but he had at least a foot on her, plus the breadth of a warrior twice her size. He smelled like rain and smoke and something wild, something that made her gills flutter.
“You speak like someone who knows.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’ve pulled quite a few people from the water.” Not that it had made the village any more accepting.
Something flickered in his expression.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Ariella.” She tried to disentangle herself from Lilani’s grip, but the girl clung tighter, making a small sound of protest. “I’m a diver from… from the village around the point.”
“A diver.” His voice flattened. “Working for the village.”
“Working for my father actually. He’s a researcher. We live here because he needs access to the deep water for his work.”
“His work.” His lip curled again. “Let me guess. Mining surveys? Finding new ways to strip this world’s resources?” His golden eyes swept over her, taking in her diving suit, the webbing between her fingers. “Was this your father’s work, too?”
She stiffened, the familiar defensiveness rising like a tide. She should have known. She should have expected the judgment. It was the same look she got from everyone who knew what she was—a mixture of morbid curiosity and faint disgust.
“My father saved my life,” she said, her voice hard. “I was dying, and he used everything he had to make sure I could survive. I’m sorry if it doesn’t meet your aesthetic standards.”
She hadn’t meant to reveal anything about the nature of her existence, but something about this place—this warm cave, this fierce warrior, this small girl who called her a star lady—had cracked her open in ways she wasn’t prepared for.
He was watching her with those golden eyes, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he saw more than she wanted him to.
“I’m not talking about standards,” he said stiffly. “I’m talking about—”
“It doesn’t matter. I should go anyway.” She tried again to pull away from Lilani. “I know this is Vultor territory.”
“Not exactly. But it is my territory.” He reached down and gently but firmly, pried Lilani’s arms from around her waist. The girl protested sleepily, reaching for her new friend, but he lifted her against his chest and she subsided, burrowing into his warmth.
“You should go back to your village and forget you found this place.”
She should have been grateful that Lilani was unharmed and he was letting her leave. She should have already been moving towards the cave entrance and the sea that was the only home she’d ever truly known.
Instead, she found herself rooted to the spot, staring at the picture they made—this massive warrior and his small daughter, alone in their cave at the edge of the world, so clearly, desperately lonely.
Walk away, she told herself. This isn’t your problem. They aren’t your people. You have your own chains to carry without taking on someone else’s.
“What’s your name?” she asked instead.
For a long moment she didn’t think he’d answer, but he spoke just as she finally turned to go.
“I am Valrek.”
“Then I wish you well, Valrek.” She nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
His voice caught her at the threshold. She turned to find him watching her, Lilani half-asleep against his shoulder.
“I meant what I said.” The words seemed to cost him something, dragged out of some deep place that didn’t give them up willingly. “I owe you a debt I cannot repay.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“You saved my daughter.” His golden eyes blazed in the firelight. “This debt stands. Whether you want it or not.”
Unable to think of a response, she finally just nodded and left.