Rising Temperatures
Chapter Twenty-Two
SADIE
There’s no warning. We’re moving through open water one second, and the next, Kyros jerks so violently that I nearly slip from his hold.
We tumble sideways.
Hard.
“Kyros—”
He curses in that sharp, clicking language of his. It cuts through the water, quick and loud, before his tail lashes once behind him. I have just enough time to realize something is seriously wrong before he changes direction.
The water blurs around us as Kyros surges forward, pulling me so close that my shoulder folds against his chest. My heart kicks against my ribs as I twist, trying to see where we’re going, but the light is poor and the stone walls he’s weaved us between rise up too quickly for me to make sense of direction.
He makes another click.
The meaning erupts in my mind.
Riptide.
The Mer alternative to ‘Ah, shit.’
Kyros veers hard around a jagged rock face, then dives toward a narrow opening in the stone. It looks small from the outside, but once we’re inside, the passage widens almost immediately to reveal a shallow cavern.
The water within is calmer. Darker, too. I can barely make out my surroundings.
The cavern ceiling arches above us, rough with coral and glistening stone. Pale strands of algae cling to the walls in thin, glowing trails.
Kyros pushes away from me, sending me spiraling as he plasters himself against the far wall.
I kick out my legs, fighting the water as I spin toward him.
“What the hell was that?” I ask.
Kyros hovers near the cave entrance, one hand braced against the stone. His shoulders are rigid, every line of his body drawn tight.
I shift, growing uneasy. “Kyros?”
He sucks in a breath. At least, I think it’s a breath. It’s hard to tell underwater.
“There’s been another surge. It happens occasionally. Nothing to worry about.”
Another surge? Of the red pollen? Well. Shit.
Kyros glares at me from across the cavern, his accusatory stare suggesting that I’m the problem here. His gaze drops, darting briefly to my mouth before snapping away.
A strange knot forms in my stomach.
I fold my arms. “How bad is it?”
Kyros turns away, his hand sliding over the stone as if he needs something solid to brace against. “Bad enough.”
“What does that mean?”
Should I be afraid? I eye the subtle gills on the side of his neck, preparing myself to jab my fingers into them.
Kyros’s tail curls once, then lashes out. “It means I need space. From you.”
He shuts his eyes. When he opens them again, I see his strain. The crimson specks in his eyes look darker in this low light, almost molten.
“This surge is stronger than the last,” he bites out, holding my gaze. “And you’re here.” He works his jaw from side to side. “My instinct is to drag you deep into this cave. So deep, you have no hope of ever escaping.”
I inch backward.
Kyros drags both hands through his hair, the movement full of frustration. At himself?
He continues. “I’m not an animal…” It feels like he’s trying to convince himself of that fact. “I’d never force myself on you…but I’ll keep you. At least until the red bloom is over. I’d come to my senses then.”
His confession should alarm me more than it does.
The silence stretches. Kyros remains plastered against the far wall, and I remain exactly where I am. Neither of us moves, which would probably be easier if the cave weren’t the size of a walk-in closet.
I glance toward the entrance. Open water stretches beyond it, dark and endless.
Kyros follows my gaze, also glancing toward the entrance.
We both look away.
This is completely normal behavior between two people trapped in a cave while one of them is apparently fighting the biological urge to kidnap the other.
I shove my hair out of my face. “Are you going to be like this all day?”
“I hope not,” Kyros admits. “Most of the pollen gets caught on the rocks above. It’s lighter in here… manageable. We’ll have to wait until it settles outside before continuing.”
Okay. That’s not too bad. I’m fine with waiting it out. Honestly, I’m open to any form of procrastination. I’m not looking forward to the death trench.
I lick my lips, then immediately regret the movement when Kyros’s gaze tracks it.
He wants me.
I can’t help but wonder how he feels without the pollen’s influence, but that’s a dangerous rabbit hole to let myself go down. It’s best if I don’t.
Kyros looks away first. “The cave is narrow, and the current outside is weak. Nothing large can get in.” He glances toward the entrance. “You’ll be safe in here.”
I catch on to the underlying meaning of his words.
“You don’t intend to stay…” I swallow. “You can’t honestly leave me alone in here. The Coveborn are out there. They could attack me. They could attack you. It’s too dangerous. You should stay here with me and wait out the surge.”
Kyros shakes his head.
I shouldn’t care whether or not he’s safe, but I do.
The algae overhead casts shifting swatches of pale light over the cave walls. They catch along the sharp planes of Kyros’s face, then drift lower, tracing the powerful curve of his tail.
I push off the wall, drifting closer. His nostrils flare.
“You can’t leave,” I order him.
“I have to patrol the—”
“What about the pollen?”
Kyros frowns. “I’ll be fine as long as you are not near.”
“No. Not with the Coveborn out there.”
Up close, Kyros’s scales are darker than I originally thought. They’re not just red, but deep crimson layered over a near-black base. The fins are layered and fluid… Flower-like. I know all too well how soft they feel against skin.
Kyros notices my gaze, his eyes narrowing.
“What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me now.”
Despite myself, I chuckle. Kyros is so…moody.
I gesture toward him. “Your tail is…”
He leans closer, waiting. Impatiently.
“Big,” I finish.
Kyros looks down at himself. “Very insightful.”
“Oh, shut up.”
My words lack their usual bite. They bounce off the cave walls, almost friendly. Almost teasing.
Kyros drifts around the room, still sticking to the walls.
He’s watching me, a predator refusing to let its prey out of its sight.
I find I’m not afraid of him, though. Not really.
Kyros is worried about the red bloom’s effect on him, but I think he has more control than he gives himself credit for.
Significantly more than the other men of his pod.
It’s no wonder he’s the Oshea.
Kyros points to my legs. “Your legs are strange.”
I gape at him. “Excuse me?”
“They’re impractical.” He openly scrutinizes them. “And they make no sense to me.”
I shrug. “Better than having a giant fish tail.”
His eyes flash. My response has annoyed him, which was its intended effect. Kyros is just as strange to me as I am to him, if not more. He’s taken a human form. He’s lived in our bodies. I can’t fathom what it would be like to have a tail.
Kyros resumes staring at my legs, but now in a way that makes my stomach tighten. He’s not being crude, not exactly, just focused.
Too focused.
“I’ve never seen them properly,” he says.
My breath hitches. “What?”
“In detail.” His voice is quieter now. Rougher. “Not without clothing. Not without…” He exhales slowly. “I’ve never taken the time to look, not even at my own. I’ve never really cared to, to be honest.”
I don’t know what to do with that information.
Kyros clears his throat. “Can I look?”
I should say no. I should absolutely say no. There are approximately one hundred reasons to say no, and most of them involve preserving what little dignity I still have.
“Why?” I ask instead.
“I’m curious.”
“Okay, but why?”
Kyros drags his eyes back to my face. “Because they’re yours.”
The cave suddenly feels ten degrees hotter.
I swallow. “You’re only saying that because of the red bloom.”
I fully expect Kyros to agree.
Instead, he shrugs and turns away, neither confirming nor denying. The lack of an answer lights a fire inside me—a borderline desperation to hear his thoughts on the matter. I need to know.
I lick my lips before I can stop myself. “Is the pollen making you say this?”
“The pollen is filtered to almost nothing in here.”
That awful, traitorous warmth in my chest spreads lower.
I hate it.
Hate Kyros.
The silence in the cave is almost unbearable. My heartbeat thunders, pounding so loud that I wouldn’t be surprised if Kyros could hear it. He eyes the exit, and I can just tell he’s still intending to leave.
I speak without thinking. “If I let you look, I want something in return.”
Kyros stills completely, and his hands curl into fists.
“What do you want?” he asks.
I lower my gaze to his tail. Its heavy length curves through the water, all dangerous muscle and glimmering scale. It’s otherworldly. I’ve been trying not to think about it since the first moment I saw it.
“I want to touch it,” I say.
Kyros looks down. “My tail?”
“Yes, your tail.”
The crimson flecks in his eyes shimmer as he looks up at me, his nose scrunched, as if he’s trying to decide whether I’m mocking him. For once, I’m not.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I explain. “And unlike you, I don’t have the ability to grow one.” I pause. “I hope not, at least.”
Kyros lets out the faintest huff of breath. It’s not quite a laugh, but it’s close enough to one to have my pulse jump.
His tail flicks beneath him.
“Very well.” He runs his hands down the crimson scales. Nervously? “You can touch it.”
He pushes off the wall and moves closer, his movements unnecessarily cautious. It’s almost like he’s afraid of me.
Kyros stops an arm’s length away.
“But I go first.” He points to my legs. “Show me.”
I’m not sure how to go about this. I awkwardly bend one knee, then the other. I’m still wearing my pajamas, the shorts permanently riding up my thighs. There’s not much left to the imagination.
Kyros leans closer, watching every movement.
He chews on his bottom lip. “Touch them.”
My heart lurches. Still, I obey.
I reach down and smooth my hands over my calves. My skin looks almost ghostly in the dim light, pale against dark water. Kyros doesn’t seem to mind. His gaze follows the line of my shin, then drifts lower. To my ankle.