Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Levi

C aptain Mike leans over the starboard rail, waving down at the water. “That’s enough for today! The hold is full,” he calls out. “Thanks for the help!”

I rise out of the water, scaling the boat’s side, my form shifting as I climb. Even after years of practice, the transformation to my human form still occasionally feels foreign – tentacles condensing into limbs, my sets of gills sealing shut as lungs expand in my chest, my massive body contracting into human proportions. When I lived in the kraken domain, no one used their human form if they could help it. It was considered lesser – primitive. Why constrain yourself to two arms and legs when you could exist in your kraken form, powerful and free in the endless deep? Having spent most of my life before arriving in Lublin Harbor in my kraken form, exploring the bottom of countless oceans, this human shape occasionally feels like an ill-fitting suit. I was taught from childhood to be ashamed of my human heritage, to view it as a weakness that tainted the kraken bloodline. Since accepting sanctuary with Koko, I’m learning to appreciate both halves of myself. There’s a certain freedom in walking among humans, in experiencing life through different eyes. It’s been a slow process, unlearning generations of prejudice, but I’m beginning to understand that my dual nature isn’t a flaw – it’s a gift.

By the time I clear the rail, I’m fully human again, water streaming off skin that sometimes still expects to feel the pressure of the deep rather than the kiss of air.

Mike tosses me a towel and my shorts with practiced ease. We’ve got our routine down after years of working together. “Good haul today,” he says as I slip my shorts over my hips.

I grin, heading to the cockpit to grab my phone as Mike steers us back toward the marina while his crew works to secure the gear. The screen lights up with several notifications, but I only care about sending one message. “Dinner later?” I text Rose.

Her response comes quickly: “Yes!”

“Can’t wait. Pick you up at 7?”

A thumbs-up emoji appears, making me smile. After helping Mike dock the boat, I return to my houseboat to clean up. Rose’s deck is empty when I glance over, which is unusual for this time of day. I pull out my phone, thumb hovering over her name. With hours to go until our date, I’m tempted to text and see what she’s up to, but I force myself to put the phone away. The last thing I want is to come across as desperate, even if I am counting the minutes until I see her again. I’m about to step into the shower when my phone rings – Koko’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey,” I answer, already knowing this isn’t a social call.

“Sorry to bother you,” she says, getting straight to the point. “Could you check on the nereid pod? Haven’t seen them since that storm Perun stirred up. They’re just outside my territory so I can’t feel them and I’m a bit worried.”

“Of course,” I agree. The pod of sea nymphs arrived in the town a few years before I did, driven away from their home by human encroachment. Nereids are the daughters of ancient Mediterranean ocean gods who were known to protect sailors and fishermen. Now that I think about it, a few are usually around when I’m helping the fishing boats, but I didn’t see them earlier.

Most humans mistake nereids for seals when they spot them playing in the waves, but there’s no mistaking their true nature up close – the otherworldly grace, the ancient intelligence in their eyes, their ability to calm or stir the waters with a thought. It’s a reasonable concern that the storm’s unnatural magic might have upset these sensitive creatures.

I’m back in the water minutes later, my kraken form cutting effortlessly through the deeper channels. The nereids aren’t hard to find – I locate the entire pod congregated near the continental shelf, pursuing a school of fish they’d been hunting, appearing unaffected by the recent magical turbulence.

As I swim back into the marina, I spot a familiar figure on her deck – Rose, sitting in her usual spot with her feet dangling in the water, sketchpad balanced on her lap. I can’t resist swimming closer, and just like every other time, she seems to sense my presence.

“Hello,” she calls softly, a smile spreading across her face.

I wrap a tentacle gently around her ankle in greeting, careful not to get her clothes wet. Her giggle makes my heart flutter.

“I have something to show you,” she says, turning her sketchpad around. My breath catches – or would, if I were in human form. She’s drawn me, my kraken form, with stunning accuracy. The way she’s captured the movement of my tentacles, the texture of my skin, even the intelligence she perceives in my eyes – it’s remarkable.

I squeeze her ankle in appreciation, and her smile brightens.

“I have a date later. I’m really looking forward to it, so I want to be back at my houseboat with plenty of time to get ready. But if I grab my kayak, maybe we could spend some time together first?”

Joy floods me – she wants to spend time with me in this form, to get to know this side of me, too. I squeeze her ankle again, tighter this time, trying to convey my enthusiasm.

Rose lets out an adorable little cheer and jumps up, tossing her sketchpad aside and grabbing her kayak. Together, we head out into open water, and once we’re far enough from shore with no other boats in sight, I carefully lift her from the kayak and place her on my back.

“Wait – what about the kayak?” she asks, laughing as we start to drift on the ocean currents.

I snag it with a free tentacle and swim to a nearby mooring. I secure the line, demonstrating the remarkable dexterity of my tentacles.

“Show off,” she teases, settling comfortably on my back.

We spend hours playing in the sparkling water together. I delight in making Rose laugh – splashing her with my tentacles, creating miniature whirlpools that spin her in dizzy circles, and lifting her high so she can dive off my tentacle into the water with joyful shouts. When she finally tires, Rose stretches out on my back to warm herself in the sun while I float peacefully, savoring her contentment.

Her sudden gasp makes me tense. “These scars,” she says softly. I had forgotten them while playing with Rose, but now my skin darkens at the memories they hold. Her finger traces one of the circular marks on my back, wider than a dinner plate. “Was it… was it another kraken?”

I tap her once to say yes, remembering the fight that would’ve killed me if Thalassor hadn’t saved my life.

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly, her hand gentle on my scarred skin. “That must have been terrible.”

I attempt a shrug with two of my tentacles, and Rose laughs despite the serious moment, her hand still resting on my back, tracing the scars with tender concern. We’ve worked out a few ways to communicate despite my kraken form – simple things like how my skin ripples in agreement, darkens in sadness or lightens with a shimmer to show happiness. I shift textures slightly in response, an unspoken reassurance that everything’s alright.

As the afternoon wears on, Rose talks about everything – her art, her life back home, her dreams. When she mentions her upcoming date with my human form, I can’t help the way my skin shimmers with interest, the color deepening as if to say, Tell me more. She smiles, catching the message, and her hand catches one of my tentacles that had been creeping closer to her, almost of its own volition. She laughs, playing with it, letting my suckers catch on her fingertips.

I freeze, realizing she doesn’t know my suckers can taste and smell the chemical signals on her skin. They tell me far more than her words – she’s developing deep feelings for me.

“I really like him,” she admits softly, confirming what my sensors are telling me. My hearts soar at the confession, though her next words come tinged with worry. “But I have to leave in a week… what if I’m just a vacation fling?” Her voice trails off as she sighs. “I hate that I’ll have to leave you behind too. I’m so torn.”

My skin darkens with disappointment before I can control it, but Rose quickly pats my back. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I already know I’ll come back to visit you, even if things don’t work out with Levi. You’re as special to me as he is.”

The irony of her words makes my hearts ache. I want to tell her everything, to reveal that we’re the same person. But I’m afraid – afraid of how she’ll react, afraid of losing her trust, afraid that she’ll feel betrayed by the deception. Telling her the truth would mean exposing secrets that aren’t just mine to tell, and I haven’t found the right way to bridge that gap.

I feel a bit like an asshole, but in a way Rose is right. She is leaving in a week. Despite what my hearts want, revealing such an enormous secret would be foolish after knowing her for such a short time.

As we drift, I sense a familiar pulse in the water – a pod of humpback whales are nearby, their vast bodies shifting through the waves in slow, powerful movements. My skin shimmers with excitement, and I nudge Rose to get her attention.

“What is it?” she asks, propping herself up.

I point a tentacle toward the open sea and begin gliding in that direction. As I near the pod, one of the massive creatures erupts from the water beside us. Rose gasps as the whale arcs through the air, close enough that its splash rains down around us – a stunning display of raw power.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “That’s incredible.”

The whales continue their graceful dance, breaching and diving, their tails lifting high before disappearing beneath the waves. I use my tentacles to guide schools of fish closer to them, and soon, the whales gather nearby, drawn by the easy meal. One of the largest swims close, almost brushing us, its vast dark eye looking us over with curiosity.

Rose leans forward, reaching out tentatively. “Can I…?”

My skin gives a shimmer of encouragement, and she extends her hand and touches the whale’s side as it glides past. Her fingers trail over its rough, barnacle-covered skin, and she laughs, a delighted, almost childlike sound.

“It feels so… so different than I expected,” she says, her voice filled with wonder. She runs her hand along the whale’s side, marveling at the ridged texture. “And their eyes… they’re so… wise.”

The whales glide around us in a peaceful dance until, one by one, they angle downward. The last whale rolls gently beneath us, showing its belly as Rose’s fingers brush its skin. Its eye meets hers for a moment before it, too, dives deep, leaving only echoes of their songs rippling through the water.

“Thank you,” Rose whispers, her eyes still wide with wonder. “I never… I never thought I’d experience something like this.”

In response, I squeeze her ankle with a tentacle, basking in her happiness and the joy of sharing a small part of my world with her. I wish I could show her more, but her human form limits her to the ocean’s surface. She will never get to know the joy and mystery of the deep, with its reassuring darkness and pressure. However, this moment, as fleeting as the tides, will stay with me forever.

The sun is starting to lower in the sky when I finally take her back to her kayak. We’re cutting it close to our dinner plans but I can’t bring myself to rush these precious moments. As I help her back into her kayak, she leans down and kisses the top of my head, right between my eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”

I watch her paddle back to her houseboat, my hearts full and heavy at the same time. In less than an hour, I’ll be knocking on her door in my human form, taking her to dinner, wanting desperately to tell her the truth but not knowing how. For now, I sink beneath the waves, cherishing the memory of her trust, her touch, and her kiss.