Chapter Twelve

Caves like this took centuries to form. Water slowly carved the stone, shaping smooth walls and hidden pools over time. The scientist in me should have appreciated that. But right now, all I could think about was how the walls felt like they were closing in. My fingers trailed along the wall, finding it smooth, unbroken, no cracks, no weakness, no escape. The panic I'd been fighting rose higher, making it hard to breathe

I was trapped.

“Shit.” I slid down the wall, my wet clothes sticking to my skin. The cold seeped deeper, making me shake. I hugged my knees tight but it didn't help, This wasn't just physical cold, it was in the silence, in the cave itself, in the knowledge that I was a captive of a sea creature who seemed to have claimed me made it all the worse.

I ran shaking fingers through my hair, grimacing as cold droplets splashed against my face. My clothes weren't drying in this damp air, and the chill was getting dangerous. Something inside me, maybe that survival instinct they talk about, knew I had to get warm. But peeling off wet clothes meant being exposed, vulnerable. In this place, that thought terrified me more than the cold.

Minutes passed as I debated, each shiver making the decision more urgent. Finally, practicality won out. I'd freeze if I stayed in these clothes. With trembling hands, I pulled off my shirt and jeans, wringing out as much water as I could.

That's when I heard it, a splash.

I froze, every muscle locking as I turned toward the water. Ripples spread slowly, as though something beneath was stirring. My breath caught as the surface parted, and he emerged.

Rynar.

Water streamed down his body, tracing the hard lines of his chest, broad shoulders, and powerful arms.

His tail shifted as he rose, splitting smoothly into legs. The movement was unnaturally fluid. He took silent steps toward me, each one measured, deliberate. The next instant, I saw a basket. A dark reed basket dangling from his hand.

Did he bring food? I thought as my stomach growled.

But right then panic hit me as I realized I was exposed. My hands scrambled for anything to cover myself, my gaze darting to the pile of seaweed near the edge of the pool. I grabbed it, wrapping it hastily around my chest and tying it in place. The rough texture scratched against my skin, but I didn’t care. I twisted another strand around my hips, securing it with shaking hands.

When I glanced up, Rynar was watching me with an amused expression on his face. unreadable.

“You don't need to hide yourself.” His voice resonated through stone and bone, tinged with amusement. “There's no shame in your form.”

Terror and anger churned in my chest. “Stay back,” I managed, hating how my voice wavered. His mouth curved into a faint smile. He set the basket down within reach but didn’t move closer. “As you wish.” “What do you want?” My voice cracked. “Why... why are you keeping me here? Are you going to eat me?” “You believe me a monster?” His laugh was low, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. My stomach turned cold. No human smiled like that. “I'm not here to harm you,” he said, his tone almost soothing as he gently placed the basket beside me. He brought me food. But what kind? I tried to ignore the hunger clawing at my insides and turned away from the basket. Wrapping my arms tighter around myself, I tried to make my voice steady. “Right. Because kidnapping is so harmless.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Hunger sharpens your tongue. Eat.” I scoffed, shaking my head. “I’m not hungry,” I lied. Rynar crouched, lowering himself to my level. His gaze moved over me, lingering too long. “Such fire.” His hand drifted toward my face but stopped just short of touching my skin. “You should eat. That day, when you fought me in the water... I enjoyed the softness of your form. I'd hate to see you waste away.” Softness. Was my body some kind of fetish for him? My stomach churned. Something snapped inside me. I swung my hand, scattering the basket’s contents across the stone. Fruit rolled into the shadows. Fish slid wetly away. “Don't you dare talk about my body,” I spat, trembling with fury.

For a moment, Rynar’s expression flickered with surprise. Then it shifted, his amusement bleeding away to something darker, more focused.

“You test my patience, Pearl,” his voice was low, like the calm before a storm. “Defiance has its limits.”

“Then do it,” I spat, my chest heaving. “Kill me. I don’t care.”

His gaze lingered on me, unflinching. Then his lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “Oh, Pearl, there are fates worse than death.” He murmured. “Allow me to give you a glimpse.”

At first, fear consumed me. My mind raced, imagining what he might do. But he didn’t move. He was just there, crouched infront of me, watching me.

And then it happened.

My breath caught as invisible touches brushed over my arms, skimming my shoulders and sliding down my back. The sensation was light but sent a shiver through me.

“What... what are you doing?” I managed, my voice trembling.

He didn’t respond. His dark eyes remained locked on mine. His gaze seemed like a force all its own, rooting me in place. It wasn’t like being touched, it was being claimed. The warmth of it wasn’t natural, not something my mind could rationalize. It was him, his presence surrounding me, invading me, binding me in a way that made my skin prickle and my breath hitch.

“Stop,” I gasped. My voice didn’t match the heat spreading through me, the way my body betrayed me, leaning into the sensation before I could stop myself.

“You say stop,” Rynar murmured, his voice curling through my mind like smoke, “but your body disagrees.”

I wanted to scream at him, to fight, but my muscles refused to obey. The touch trailed lower, ghosting over my collarbone and the hollow of my throat. It lingered there before dipping lower, tracing the gentle slope of my chest. A shiver ran through me as my back arched involuntarily, my skin burned under the phantom caress.

“Don't,” I whispered but there was no conviction in those words.

The pressure didn’t stop. It grew firmer, bolder, brushing over the swell of my breasts. My nipples hardened instantly, reacting to the warmth that wasn’t really there. The heat of my humiliation mixed with something darker, deeper, something I couldn’t name and didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You can’t hide from me, Pearl,” Rynar purred. “Not your thoughts. Not your desires. Not even this.”

His words burned in my ears, but it was the touch that consumed me. It circled one nipple sending sparks of sensation shooting through me. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my breath coming in shallow gasps as my body reacted, traitorous and hungry for more.

My hands shot up instinctively, trying to cover myself, to shield my body from the invisible force that seemed to know me too intimately. But the moment my palms met my chest, the touch shifted, pressing against my hands, pushing them away. My arms fell limp at my sides, as though he’d willed them to obey him instead of me.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, crouching closer. “Your body already knows who it belongs to.”

“I don’t belong to you,” I spat, my voice cracking as I forced the words out through clenched teeth.

He tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “Your body disagrees.”

The invisible force swept lower, tracing the curve of my waist, the soft swell of my stomach. My thighs clenched together instinctively, a futile attempt to shield myself from whatever came next. But the touch was merciless, pressing against my knees, coaxing them apart with maddening ease.

I moaned, my hands scrambling to grab the seaweed wrapped around me, trying to hold it in place as if it could protect me. Rynar’s gaze flicked downward, amusement dancing in his shadowed eyes as he watched me struggle.

“Modesty,” he murmured, his tone almost mocking. “How quaint.”

“Go to hell,” I snapped, the heat in my cheeks burning brighter as the touch grew more insistent.

But the pressure didn’t falter. It skimmed up my inner thighs, featherlight and deliberate, teasing the sensitive skin until I was trembling. I bit my lip hard, trying to stifle the sound that threatened to escape, a soft, desperate whimper that would betray everything I was trying to deny.

“Such resistance.” Rynar’s tone softened, almost gentle. “And yet…”

The touch reached the apex of my thighs, brushing against the heat pooling there. The rough seaweed did nothing to block the sensation; it slipped through as if it wasn’t even there, teasing the sensitive folds beneath. My head fell back against the wall, a strangled moan slipping past my lips before I could stop it.

“It’s pointless to fight,” he murmured, his tone slipping through me like a whisper. “Feel it. Let it guide you.”

“No,” I managed, but it was a lie. My hips jerked forward involuntarily, seeking the relief my mind refused to admit I wanted. The invisible force responded immediately, pressing harder, circling with maddening precision. My breath hitched, my thighs trembled as the pressure inside me built faster than I could keep up with.

“Do you feel it?” he asked, his tone dark, possessive. “The way your body craves what your mind denies?”

I hated him. I hated the way he read me so effortlessly, the way he unraveled me piece by piece. But most of all, I hated the way my body answered him, responding to every calculated touch, every deliberate stroke, with a hunger I couldn’t control.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a raw mix of frustration, humiliation, and something deeper. “Stop,” I gasped, though the word was barely more than a broken whisper.

“But you don’t want me to stop,” he murmured, his tone laced with dark amusement. “Not really.”

The pressure grew firmer, sliding against my folds, teasing, tormenting. My head fell back, hips lifting off the cold stone floor as my body sought more, a rhythm I couldn’t stop. The phantom touch pushed inside me, filling me with a heat so intense it made me shudder. My walls clenched around it instinctively, pulling it deeper, my body betraying every ounce of resistance I had left.

It was too much. Every nerve in my body screamed for release, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it was unbearable. My breaths came in shallow gasps, edged with soft, desperate sounds I couldn’t suppress. My thighs quivered, my toes curling as the pressure quickened, driving me higher, harder, closer to the edge.

“You’ll come for me,” Rynar growled and the timber of voice sent shivers racing down my spine. “Whether you admit it or not.”

“Fuck you,” I spat, the words weak and breathless, barely audible over the sharp cry that ripped from my throat as the climax crashed over me. Waves of ecstasy tore through me, leaving me trembling, broken, undone.

For a moment, there was nothing but the raw, overwhelming pleasure, my body writhing as the phantom touch milked every last shudder from me. And then it was gone, the heat, the pressure, the touch, all of it vanished, leaving me cold, shaking, and achingly empty.

I slumped against the wall, my chest heaving, my skin slick with sweat. My limbs felt heavy, my body weak, but my mind was alive with fury and humiliation.

Rynar crouched in front of me again. “You’ll beg for it next time,” his words curling through my thoughts like a promise.

“Never,” I spat, though the word was barely more than a whisper, my defiance fragile and hollow.

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smile. “Oh, Pearl,” he drawled, his tone rich with dark amusement. “We both know what’s real.”

Without another word, he stood and dived into the blue hole from where he had come from.