Chapter 7
Lilani had somehow convinced Ariella to braid her hair.
She wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One moment she’d been sitting by the fire, watching Valrek efficiently gut some small silver fish, and the next Lilani had climbed into her lap with a carved wooden comb and a look of absolute determination.
“Papa tries,” the little girl explained, her golden eyes solemn. “But his fingers are too big. He makes knots.”
From across the fire, Valrek made a sound that might have been embarrassment. “I don’t make knots. Your hair is… complicated.”
“It’s curly, Papa. That’s not the same as complicated.”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. The interaction was so normal, so domestic, that it made her chest ache with longing.
This was what she’d missed, growing up in the sterile confines of her father’s laboratory.
Not just a parent, but a family, the sense of belonging to something larger than yourself.
“Hold still,” she murmured, running the comb through Lilani’s wild curls. The little girl’s hair was surprisingly soft, with a texture that wasn’t quite human. “I’ll try not to pull.”
“You won’t hurt me. Papa says you’re gentle.”
She glanced up to find Valrek staring at her, his golden eyes unreadable. A flush crept up her neck, her bioluminescent patches flickering.
“Did he?” she managed.
“He said it when you were washing the fruit.” Lilani twisted to look at her father. “You said she was gentle and that her hands were very soft and—”
“Lilani.” His voice was a low growl, but there was no real threat in it. “I thought we agreed that some conversations are private.”
“But she should know! She probably thinks you don’t like her because you’re so grumpy all the time. I wanted her to know that you do like her, even if you’re bad at showing it.”
The flush spread from her neck to her cheeks. She focused intently on Lilani’s hair, separating it into three sections and beginning a simple braid. Her webbed fingers made the work slightly awkward, but the little girl didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m not grumpy,” he muttered, returning his attention to the fish.
“You’re a little grumpy, Papa.”
“I’m… cautious. There’s a difference.”
Lilani turned to her with a conspiratorial whisper that was loud enough to echo off the cave walls. “He’s grumpy.”
This time she couldn’t hold back the laugh. It bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her, light and unfamiliar, and the sound seemed to freeze both Vultor in place. Valrek’s knife stopped mid-slice, and Lilani’s eyes went wide with delight.
“You laughed!” the little girl exclaimed. “Papa, did you hear? She laughed! Do it again!”
“I… it doesn’t work like that.”
“But it was so pretty! Like bells, but underwater bells. The kind that fish would ring.”
“Fish don’t ring bells, sweetheart.”
“The ones in my dreams do.”
She tied off the braid with a strip of leather Lilani had produced from somewhere and sat back to admire her work. It wasn’t perfect, but Lilani seemed thrilled.
“It’s beautiful!” She scrambled off Ariella’s lap and ran to a small mirror near the basin, peering at her reflection. “Look, Papa! I look like a real princess!”
“You always look like a real princess.”
“But now I look like a princess with good hair.” She twirled experimentally, her braid swinging. “Can we keep her?”
The question hung in the air, innocent and devastating. Her skin flickered through a rapid series of colors, and she found herself unable to look at Valrek.
“She’s not a pet, Lilani.”
“I know that! I mean can she come live with us? We have room. And she’s nice. And you like her.”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Grown-ups always say that when they mean ‘I don’t want to explain.’” Lilani abandoned her reflection and plopped down next to the fire, her little face screwed up in thought. “But I don’t see what’s so complicated. She doesn’t have a pack. We don’t have a pack. We could be each other’s pack.”
Pack. The word resonated in her chest. Humans had families rather than packs, but had she even had that?
She’d had her father, who treated her as a science project, and Merrick, who treated her as an investment, and the occasional researcher who treated her as a curiosity.
But she’d never had anyone who simply wanted her for herself.
“Your father’s right,” she said gently. “It’s complicated. I have… obligations. Debts. People who expect things from me.”
“What kind of things?”
My body. My abilities. My freedom. She couldn’t say any of that to a six-year-old. “Adult things.”
“See?” Lilani pointed at her triumphantly. “You said ‘adult things.’ That’s the same as ‘complicated.’ You’re just using different words.”
“She has you there,” Valrek said, and when she looked up, she caught the ghost of a smile on his scarred face. It transformed him, softening the harsh lines and making him look almost… approachable. Almost gentle.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“The fish is ready,” he added, and the moment passed.
They ate together, the three of them arranged around the fire in a loose circle.
He had wrapped the fish in some kind of broad leaf and cooked it directly on the coals, and the result was surprisingly delicious—tender and flaky, with a subtle smoky flavor that lingered on her tongue.
Lilani chattered throughout the meal, telling stories about the seabirds she’d befriended and the shells she’d collected and the time she’d found a crab the size of her head.
Ariella listened, contributing little but soaking in every word.
This was what breakfast was supposed to feel like.
Not the cold, clinical meals of nutrient paste in her father’s lab, eaten in silence while he reviewed data on his tablet.
Not the formal dinners with Merrick, where every bite felt like a transaction. This was warmth. This was life.
This is something I can’t have.
Tears threatened to blur her eyes as the knowledge crashed down over her, and he noticed.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said, and quickly changed the subject.
After the meal, Lilani convinced her to come outside and look at her shell collection.
The little girl had amassed an impressive array, sorted by color and size and arranged in careful spirals on a flat rock near the cave entrance.
Ariella examined each one with genuine interest, identifying the species when she could and making up fantastical names when she couldn’t.
“This one is a Sunset Spiral. Very rare. Only found in the shallows near volcanic vents.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. And this one…” She held up an iridescent shell that caught the light in a thousand different colors. “This is a Dragon’s Tear. Legend says they’re formed when sea dragons cry.”
Lilani’s eyes went wide. “There are sea dragons on Cresca?”
“I’ve never seen one. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
“I want to see one. Will you take me to look for them?”
“Lilani.” Valrek’s voice came from behind them, quiet but firm. “Ariella has to leave soon. She has her own home to return to.”
The reminder was like a bucket of cold water. Her own home. The lab. Her father. Merrick.
“But she just got here!” Lilani protested. “She hasn’t even seen my secret hideout yet!”
“Another time, maybe.”
“You always say that. ‘Another time.’ But another time never comes!” Lilani’s lower lip trembled dangerously. “I just want a friend, Papa. Is that so bad?”
His expression softened, and he crouched down to his daughter’s level. “It’s not bad at all, little one. But we have to be careful. You know that.”
“I’m tired of being careful. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of it just being us all the time.”
“I know.” He pulled the little girl into his arms, and she buried her face against his chest. Over her head, his eyes met Ariella’s, and she saw something in them that made her breath catch—a loneliness that matched her own, vast and aching and desperately hungry for connection. “I know you are.”
She turned away, giving them privacy, and found herself staring out at the sea.
The water was calm today, its surface a deep, inviting emerald that called to her.
She could dive in and swim away. She could leave this cave and these people behind, return to the life she knew, and pretend this morning had never happened.
But she didn’t want to.
I don’t want to leave, she realized, and the thought was terrifying. I want to stay. I want to belong here. I want…
She didn’t let herself finish the thought.