Chapter Sixteen

It had been four days since Rynar saved me.

He hadn’t left my side. Always there, always watching. He brought offerings, food, tools, strange things pulled from the depths. Rare shells, their spirals smooth and gleaming, colors shifting like sunlight trapped in glass. Stones with veins that glimmered when touched. Coral fragments, so delicate they seemed carved by something beyond nature’s reach.

He placed them at the pool’s edge with deliberate care, like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve.

I thought of my graduate research. Male puffers sculpting sand patterns to attract mates. Wrasses offering stones to potential partners. Damselfish tending algae gardens to impress. Was this the same?

No. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t human.

But the similarities made my skin crawl.

Each gift lay just within reach. His black eyes tracked me, unblinking, patient. Was I supposed to respond? The uncertainty twisted my stomach into knots.

I pushed the thought away. It was ridiculous.

And yet, I kept the gifts. A shard of coral that glinted like bone, hidden in the corner of my workstation. Out of sight, but never out of mind.

Today was different.

The pearls waited for me.

They were arranged with careful precision, shimmering softly in the algae’s glow. Perfect spheres, smooth and warm to the touch. Not ordinary pearls but black pearls. These seemed alive, humming with a faint energy.

I picked one up, cautious. It felt heavier than I expected. The glow spread over my fingers, cold and warm at once.

“You like them,” Rynar said.

I startled, clutching the pearl to my chest. He stood just beyond the pool, his black eyes locked onto mine.

“What is this?” My voice shook.

“A gift,” he said. “From the depths.”

His words felt like both an answer and a challenge. The pearl’s warmth seeped into my skin, its faint pulse matching something I couldn’t name.

“For what?” I asked, my fingers tightening around it.

He tilted his head slightly. “You work tirelessly. You endure. It is only right you are rewarded.”

The words struck deep, touching a place I’d rather ignore. My chest tightened.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I whispered.

“You don’t need to,” he purred. “The ocean sees what you cannot. It gives freely.”

I wanted to throw the pearls back. To tell him I needed nothing from him or his cursed ocean. But my fingers wouldn’t let go.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

A faint smile curved his lips, and for just a moment, the darkness in his eyes softened. Deep down, I hated how those three words made my chest feel tighter, how they made something inside me waver.

Carefully, I placed the pearls on the workstation and turned back to the algae, ignoring the way his presence loomed behind me like a shadow I couldn’t escape.

I couldn’t focus. No matter how hard I tried, my hands trembled too much. The algae paste kept slipping through my fingers like it had a mind of its own.

Rynar stood silently nearby, his black eyes fixed on me, tracking my every move. He was getting into my personal space, and it was too much. He was too much.

“Why are you like this?” I muttered, grinding the algae harder than I should have. My hands ached, raw from hours of work, but I didn’t stop. “Always watching. Always waiting.”

“You interest me,” he said. “I want to understand.”

“Understand?” I snapped, slamming the pestle into the bowl. “Dragging me into this nightmare is your idea of curiosity?”

He didn’t flinch. His black eyes stayed locked on mine, steady and unreadable. “The depths aren’t a nightmare, Pearl. You only see them that way because you’re afraid. But there’s beauty here, if you’re willing to see it.”

I laughed, bitter and sharp. “Beauty? I’m not here for beauty. I’m here to survive.”

“You could do both,” he replied, his tone almost gentle. “If you’d trust me.”

Trust. That word twisted something in my chest, but I shoved it down. “I don’t need your help,” I said, keeping my eyes on the algae paste. It was failing. I was failing. No matter how much I ground or mixed, it refused to cooperate. My fingers shook as I worked, but I kept going anyway, trying to ignore the pressure building in my head.

“You’re pushing too hard,” Rynar said softly. “You’ll, “

“Stop talking about me!” I snapped, slamming the pestle down harder. “Just stop.”

He didn’t reply, but I felt his gaze on me and it made my skin crawl, making me want to scream. Yet, in some infuriating way, it anchored me, like a tether I didn’t understand but couldn’t sever. And that pissed me off more than anything.

“What do you want from me?” I finally blurted, not caring how desperate I sounded. “Why do you care?”

“Because you are mine,” he said simply.

The words hit me harder than they should have. “I’m not yours,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze shifted, something sharper, more determined. Before I could react, he moved.

His hands were on me before I even realized it, lifting me like I weighed nothing. A gasp ripped from my throat as the pestle clattered to the ground, forgotten. My fists pounded against his chest, but it was like hitting stone. He didn’t even flinch.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, my voice sharp with panic. “Rynar, put me down, “

“Trust me,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

“No!” I screamed, struggling harder as he carried me toward the pool. “Don’t you dare, “

The rest of my protest was swallowed by the rush of water as he plunged us both beneath the surface.

“Showing you,” he said, calm as ever.

“Showing me what?” I thrashed in his grip, trying to twist free, but it was pointless. His arms were like iron bands. “Put me down, Rynar! Now!”

He didn’t listen. He stepped into the pool, dragging me with him. The cold water hit me like a slap, stealing the breath from my lungs as it closed over us. My scream turned into bubbles, rising uselessly to the surface as he pulled me deeper.

I panicked. My legs kicked, my hands clawed at his arms, but it was useless. My chest burned as my lungs screamed for air. I twisted harder, my nails scraping his skin, but his grip stayed firm.

“You’re killing me!” I wanted to yell, but all that came out were more bubbles. My vision blurred as my chest tightened, the pressure crushing me. This was it. I was going to die.

His voice slid into my head. “Breathe, Pearl.”

I shook my head wildly, my panic sharp and instinctive. “I can’t,” I thought, the words jagged and desperate. “I’ll drown.”

His eyes softened, but his grip didn’t loosen. “Trust me,” he whispered into my mind.

I wanted to fight, to scream that I didn’t trust him, but my body betrayed me. My chest heaved, the last of my air escaping in a rush of bubbles, and I couldn’t hold it anymore. The water rushed in, filling my lungs.

But instead of the icy sting of drowning, there was… nothing. The burning stopped. The pressure eased. The water wasn’t suffocating me, it was flowing through me, cool and steady, like it belonged there. My hands stilled, my limbs going slack as my body adjusted to the impossible.

I touched my neck, my fingers brushing over the faintly glowing scars. They pulsed gently, warm against the cold water. Then it hit me—a sudden, undeniable realization. The scars weren’t just marks anymore. They were functioning, breathing for me. They had become gills.

“What… what’s happening?” My voice wavered, distorted by the water but still audible.

He steadied me, his black eyes holding mine with an intensity that made the world around us fade. “The algae,” he said simply. “It has fused with you. You’re no longer tied to the surface.”

I froze, my hands hovering over my neck as I tried to process his words. But it wasn’t just my neck. My eyes drifted downward, to the scars scattered across my body—on my wrists, my thighs, my stomach. All the places I’d once cut myself. They were glowing softly, and I could feel them working. The water passed through them, like they had become part of me. Like they had always been waiting for this moment.

Each breath felt different now—calm, steady, seamless. The water moved into my lungs, into my blood, like a second heartbeat I hadn’t known I needed. A strange, eerie harmony filled me, as though the scars that had once symbolized pain were now keeping me alive.

“You knew this would happen,” I whispered, but there was so much anger and pain in my voice. “You didn’t even warn me.”

“I told you to trust me,” he replied simply.

“You didn’t give me a choice!” I snapped, my voice rising in my head. “You just, “

“I gave you what you needed to survive,” he said, cutting me off. His voice was low, almost resigned. “You were already marked. The depths were always going to take you. The Abyss was always going to take you.”

My breath came out in short, shaky bursts. My mind spun, trying to piece together the fragments of his words. The cold air stung my lungs, but the chill inside me was worse.

“Why?” I whispered, barely more than a breath.. “Why me? What is the Abyss? What does it want from me?”

His eyes locked onto mine, endless and dark, and for a moment, I thought I saw something, something like guilt. His claws twitched, curling and uncurling at his sides. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, like he was wrestling with the words.

“The Abyss…” He paused, his jaw clenching. “It isn’t just water or darkness. It’s alive. It’s hunger, an insatiable hunger so deep it never ends. It’s the cold that crushes the light. The silence that smothers everything.” His voice dropped lower, like the words weighed him down. “It watches everything. And it chooses.”

My skin prickled, cold dread curling in my gut. “Chooses?” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “What does that mean?”

“It saw you,” he said, his black eyes locked onto mine. “It recognized something in you, strength, resilience, a will to survive.” His claws flexed, then stilled, as if he were trying to calm something restless inside him. “You’re worthy of it.”

The words hung between us, choking the air. My throat tightened, but I forced the question out, even though I was terrified of the answer. “Worthy of what ?”

“To join it,” he murmured. “To become part of it. The Abyss doesn’t just take, it claims those who can endure it. Those who can survive its depths.”

I swallowed, the cold in my chest spreading through my veins. My heart pounded so loud I could barely think. “You’re saying the Abyss… wants me.”

He nodded, the glow of his skin dimming as though the truth itself was too much. “Yes.”

The reality of it pressed down on me, so heavy it was unbearable. “And you’re part of it. You knew this. You knew it wanted me.”

His gaze faltered for a moment, something raw flashing across his face. “I did,” he admitted, his voice low. “But it wasn’t just the Abyss that wanted you. I wanted you. From the moment I felt your presence in the water, I knew.”

I felt like I was falling, my world shattering piece by piece. The pain, the betrayal, it all surged to the surface. “So, what now?” I choked out. “You just hand me over? Let it claim me?”

“No.” The word was firm, almost desperate. His claws cupped my face gently, forcing me to look at him. “I won’t let it take you.”

I wanted to believe him, but the darkness between us was too vast, too deep. My voice trembled as I whispered, “Why?”

His eyes softened, and his thumb brushed over my lips. “Because you’re mine,” he said, the words quiet and possessive. “And I’m not ready to let you go.”

A shiver ran through me, fear and something else twisting together in a knot I couldn’t unravel. He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming, his voice a low rumble.

“Come,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

I wanted to argue, but the air caught in my throat. Or maybe it was the water, I wasn’t sure anymore. My lungs didn’t burn, though they should have. The marks on my neck throbbed again, their glow steadying, and the water moved through me as though it had always belonged there.

I hated how easy it felt.

I was descending deeper than I ever thought possible. The pressure was immense, a weight that threatened to crush me from all sides. My lungs, or whatever passed for them now, tightened, panic gnawing at the edges of my mind.

Rynar’s arms wrapped around me, his hold unwavering. His presence blocked out the suffocating force of the depths. His black eyes, endless and calm, anchored me. “Trust me,” he said, his voice a low vibration that sank into my bones.

I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered. The darkness below us stretched endlessly, a void that promised to consume me. But when I fell into it, the fear faded.

“You can,” he murmured, his silver glow pulsing faintly. “You are stronger than you think.”

The glowing marks on my neck, arms, and every place I had cut myself pulsed with his words. A strange certainty spread through me, his belief sinking into my veins. The fear didn’t disappear, but it settled into something manageable, a quiet terror that no longer felt impossible to face.

As we sank deeper, it felt like the end of the world, like falling into an endless void.. My pulse hammered, my body stiff with fear. Then, faintly, a flicker of light appeared below us.

I blinked, unsure if it was real. The glimmer trembled, a soft, distant glow, like a star seen through heavy fog. As we descended further, more lights joined it. They shimmered and pulsed, their glow twisting into shapes that made my skin crawl. They weren’t soft or welcoming. They were jagged, alien. Unnatural.

The ocean floor slowly revealed itself, not a city, but a chaotic, otherworldly dreamscape. Coral spires jutted up like twisted daggers, their edges gleaming with veins of bioluminescence. The light coursed through them like ghostly blood, casting eerie shadows over the sand.

The ground writhed with strange, translucent creatures, shimmering like liquid glass. They moved in eerie synchronization, their bodies catching the faint light as if they were part of the ocean itself.

A massive shadow slid past us, too many eyes blinking in unison before the creature melted back into the dark. My fingers dug into Rynar’s shoulders. Smaller beings darted through the water, skittering away. They kept their distance from him, scattering at the edges of his presence.

“They’re afraid of you,” I breathed, my voice trembling.

“They know their place,” he replied with a calm tone, but beneath it lay the cold certainty of power, the quiet menace of a predator. “As they will know yours.”

A shiver rippled through me, part fear, part something I couldn’t name. This world didn’t pretend to be kind. Its beauty and brutality were exposed, raw and undeniable. It was everything the surface tried to hide. And a part of me, the dark, hidden part, was drawn to it.

We descended to a clearing where the sand glowed faintly, each grain lit from within. He set me down with careful grace. My feet sank into the soft surface, the glow beneath my toes pulsing with life. The water was cold, biting at my skin, but his presence kept the worst of it at bay.

His tail unfurled beside me. The scales shimmered like molten silver, smooth and flawless. The wide fin at the end drifted lazily, the delicate filaments swaying with a grace that seemed almost fragile. It was a contradiction, brutal strength and delicate beauty.

I couldn’t stop myself. My hand reached out, fingers brushing against his tail. The texture sent a jolt through me, cool, sleek, impossibly smooth. Beneath the surface, muscles coiled and shifted, power barely contained. My fingertips traced the contours, following the play of light along his scales.

His tail twitched, a ripple of tension passing through it. His breath hitched, just a fraction.

“Does it frighten you?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

“No,” I murmured, my fingers still gliding over the ridges of his tail. “It’s beautiful.”

His eyes softened. For a moment, the vast darkness of the ocean faded, leaving just the two of us suspended in a fragile bubble of light and silence.

He turned away, his tail sweeping gracefully through the sand. Spirals and lines took shape where it passed, patterns glowing with the same light as the marks on my neck. The designs weren’t random. They were deliberate, intricate. Each line seemed to pulse, alive.

“What are you doing?” My voice was unsteady, torn between curiosity and dread.

“A declaration,” he said, his gaze fixed on the glowing patterns. “To you. For you.”

My heart thudded painfully. “What does that mean?”

“It means I am bound to you.” His voice was low, unwavering. “Not because of the ocean. Not because of fate. But because I choose you, Pearl.”

His words pressed into me, too much to ignore. My throat tightened. “Why?” I whispered. “You don’t even know me.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, tinged with sadness. “I know enough. I know your strength. Your fear. Your pain. And I know that without you, I would lose what little of myself remains.”

My breath caught. The glowing patterns beneath us pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, a connection I couldn’t deny.

“You’re afraid,” he said softly. “It’s natural. But fear doesn’t make you weak. It makes you alive.”

I wanted to argue, to deny everything he said, but the words tangled in my throat. I was so tired. Tired of fighting him, tired of fighting myself, tired of the endless ache that never went away. Maybe the scariest part was that I didn’t want to fight anymore.

His hand cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine. “You are more than you know, Pearl. Let me show you.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing mine. The kiss was hesitant, his touch feather-light, waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. My hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping him like he was the only thing holding me together.

His tail curled around us, anchoring me in place. His other hand traced down my spine, the glowing marks on my neck flaring with warmth. The water around us shimmered brighter, the sand beneath my feet pulsing like a heartbeat.

I melted into him. The fear, the anger, the resistance, everything drained away. All that was left was the raw need to feel something, anything, that wasn’t pain.

“You’re a monster,” I whispered against his lips.

His black eyes met mine, unflinching. “Yes. But I’m your monster.”