Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Levi

F or a moment, I drift in that hazy space between dreams and waking, wondering why my body feels like I’ve been battered by a thousand angry waves. A deep ache pulls me from sleep, my muscles stiff and tender. Yesterday’s battle crashes back – the other kraken’s massive form, Rose’s terrified face, the taste of blood in the water.

Rose. My hand automatically reaches for her, but I find her side of the bed cold and empty. The indent where she slept has long since faded, leaving no trace of her presence except the faint scent of her shampoo on the pillow beside mine.

“Rose?” My voice sounds rough, even to my own ears.

I push myself up, wincing at the deep ache in my muscles. I look around my room and find no trace of her left.

Something feels wrong. There isn’t even a hastily written note. I get up and check the rest of my houseboat, but there’s nothing on my nightstand or the kitchen counter. And there’s a notepad and pen left untouched in plain view.

My phone shows no messages. The knot in my stomach tightens as I type: Hey, where’d you disappear to this morning?

In the bathroom mirror, I look as rough as I feel – dark circles under my eyes, skin pallid, and hair wild from sleep. I peel off the bandage on my hip, holding my breath until I can see the wound. Relief floods through me as I find only a fresh pink scar where yesterday’s gaping injury had been. Another thing to hide from Rose, another excuse I’ll have to make if she happens to see it. Or perhaps it’s time I told her the truth.

The hot shower helps ease some of my stiffness but does nothing for the worry gnawing at my gut. I check my phone as soon as I’m out – still no response from Rose. She always texts back in the mornings. But it’s fine, I tell myself, trying to keep the panic at bay. She probably got distracted working on her art, or her phone died, or perhaps she’s grabbing coffee at the diner – they don’t have the best signal there. There are a dozen perfectly normal reasons she might not have texted back. I don’t need to jump to conclusions.

I throw on clothes and practically run to her houseboat. When I knock, I don’t get an answer. I try again, louder this time, and worry makes my movements sharp. Still, nothing.

“Rose?” I call out, pressing my ear to the door. The houseboat sits silent.

I circle around, peering through her windows. The kitchen is empty; even her ever-filled coffee pot sits cold and empty. The living room looks exactly as it always does; her laptop is in its usual spot, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Her bedroom blinds are open, showing an empty, perfectly made bed.

My heart rate kicks up when I realize her rental car isn’t in the parking lot. I hurry back to my houseboat for my keys, barely remembering to put on shoes before I’m in my car, heading toward town.

The Salty Dog is my first stop. Dark clouds gather overhead as I park, the wind picking up enough to send trash skittering across the pavement. Doris, the morning waitress who knows us both, shakes her head when I ask if she’s seen Rose.

The convenience store and a couple of shops I know Rose likes yield nothing. By now, the sky has darkened to an ominous grey, matching my growing unease. Wind whips down the narrow streets, carrying the sharp scent of approaching rain. Papers and leaves dance across my path as I hurry from store to store, the storm building with each dead end.

Finally, I try the bakery. The wind chime above the door clangs wildly as I enter, and I have to wrestle the door closed against the growing storm. The cashier hasn’t seen her but calls back, “Hey Koko, have you seen Rose today?”

Koko emerges from the back, dusting flour from her hands. Even in a simple apron, she radiates an otherworldly grace that reminds me exactly what – who – she is.

I bow my head slightly. “Thank you for your help yesterday, Mokosh.”

She waves off my formality with a smile. “Just Koko is fine, Levi. And I haven’t seen Rose today. Is something wrong?”

“Yesterday was… intense. And now she’s gone. No note, no text, nothing.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I’m worried.”

Koko’s eyes sharpen with interest. “I haven’t seen her today but trust me – I would know if she were in danger within my territory. She’s safe, wherever she is.” I wisely refrain from pointing out that Rose was in danger just yesterday within her territory. Koko tilts her head thoughtfully. “Does she have a special place she goes to clear her head? Somewhere she retreats when she needs to think?”

I start to say no, then— “The lighthouse!” The words burst from me like a breaking wave. “Thank you, I have to?—”

I turn to run, then pause, spinning back. “Koko… did you bring her here for me? Are we…” I trail off, unsure how to ask if we’re meant to be, if this is fate or just chance.

A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, I arranged for Rose to have the opportunity to come to Lublin Harbor because I believe your life thread is tied to hers.” Her expression grows serious. “However, I pride myself on free will, Levi. Rose chose to come here – I merely opened the door. And even now, there’s no guarantee. I may be a love goddess, but I can’t make relationships work – that’s entirely up to you both. Even if you get together, it can still fall apart. Love is a choice as much as it is a feeling. And it takes work.”

“What do you mean, love is a choice?” I ask, frowning. The concept feels wrong somehow – isn’t love supposed to be this overwhelming force that sweeps you away? Like the tide, like the storm-tossed waves that move without choice or decision?

Koko’s smile turns gentle. “Think about it, Levi. That first spark of attraction? That’s a feeling, yes. But real love, lasting love – that’s waking up every day and choosing that person again and again. It’s choosing to be patient when they’re driving you crazy. It’s choosing to be vulnerable even when you’re scared. It’s choosing to work through the hard times instead of walking away.”

My chest tightens as her words sink in. After my people cast me out, I’d learned to keep everyone at arm’s length, safer in solitude than risking another rejection. Yet when I’d revealed my kraken form to Rose, I remember how terrified I’d been, but something in her made me want to trust. Even now, old instincts scream at me to hide, to keep my secrets buried deep. But with Rose, I keep choosing to open up to her, piece by vulnerable piece, even knowing she could reject both sides of me. She makes me want to be whole again, human and kraken both, in a way I never thought possible. For the first time in my life, the walls I’ve built feel more like a prison than protection.

“Anyone can fall in love,” Koko continues, gazing through the bakery’s front window at the bustling town beyond the glass, her expression distant. “The real test is choosing to stay in love, even when it’s difficult. Even when it hurts. That’s what makes it powerful.”

I lean against the counter, my legs suddenly unsteady as understanding washes over me. All this time, I’ve been waiting for fate to tell me if Rose and I were meant to be when really… it’s been about choice all along. Every moment, every decision has led to this.

“I see,” I manage, my voice rough with emotion. “That makes sense. Thank you.”

The drive to the lighthouse feels endless, though it can’t be more than ten minutes. When I spot Rose’s rental car alone in the parking lot, the relief nearly makes me dizzy. I leap out, sprinting toward the entrance.

George steps out as I approach. “The young lady seems upset,” he says, his weathered face creased with concern.

“I’ll fix it,” I promise. “Whatever it takes.”

I take the stairs two at a time, my muscles protesting every step. When I reach the top, I freeze in the doorway, my breath catching at the sight of her. Rose stands at the single open window, rain speckling the weathered floorboards around her feet. The wind whips her hair wildly around her face, and something in my chest aches at how beautiful and lonely she looks, silhouetted against the stormy sky. She’s staring out at the churning ocean that mirrors the turmoil in my chest, her hands gripping the windowsill so tight her knuckles have gone white.

Before I can speak, her voice cuts through the space, barely audible over the rising storm. “I saw your scars.”

She doesn’t turn from the vista, her eyes fixed on the angry waves below.

The words stop me cold. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

“I know you’re my kraken.” Her voice is steady, but I can hear the hurt beneath it. “What I can’t understand is how you could make love to me, share your body with me, but not share your true nature. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” I say, the words rushing out. “But you’re leaving in two days. And it’s not just my secret to tell – it’s the secret of all krakens. I wanted to tell you – badly – but I needed to know if there was more between us than just a quick fling. We hadn’t talked about the future…”

“Because I was scared,” she whispers, still facing the window. Her shoulders curl inward, making her seem smaller than I’ve ever seen her. When she finally looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes are bright with unshed tears, her voice trembling but determined. “I was terrified to talk about the future because I didn’t want to hear that you didn’t feel as strongly for me as I do for you.”

Something breaks loose in my chest. For once, both sides of my nature are in perfect harmony – the human heart thundering with love and the kraken’s protective instincts rising like a tide. I cross the space between us in two strides, grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face me. “Don’t you know?” The words tear from my throat. “I love you. I want you always. Both parts of me do. The human who wakes up beside you and the kraken who wants to show you the ocean’s wonders – we’re one and the same in this.”

Tears fill her eyes. “I love you too,” she gasps. “But isn’t it too soon?”

“Not for me.” I cup her face in my hands, feeling the way my kraken half rises just beneath my human skin, wanting to wrap around her, to shield her and keep her safe at my side forever. “I know how I feel. So does my kraken. We’re the same, Rose – the same heart that’s been falling for you since the moment you talked to a sea monster like he was just another being worthy of friendship. And every day since then, I’ve chosen you. I’ll keep choosing you, in both forms, for as long as you’ll let me.”

“But wouldn’t you rather be with another kraken?” she asks, her voice small. “Someone who can share the ocean with you?”

“No.” I press my forehead to hers. “I’d give up the ocean for you if I could.”

“I’d never ask you to.” She melts into me then, her arms wrapping around my waist. When I kiss her, I taste salt – her tears or ocean spray, I’m not sure. Maybe both.

“What are we going to do?” she whispers against my lips. “I live in the desert.”

I pull back just enough to meet her eyes – those eyes that have looked at both my forms with such trust and affection. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The wind whips around us, carrying the scent of rain, salt, and possibilities. Below, the waves crash against the lighthouse rocks – the same ocean that brought us together, that holds half of who I am. But up here, with Rose in my arms, I realize that for the first time in my life, the sea’s call isn’t the strongest pull in my heart. Looking at her now, I know with bone-deep certainty that I’ll find a way to bridge our two worlds. I’ve never wanted anything more.

Rose’s fingers thread through my hair, drawing me closer. When our lips meet this time, there’s nothing gentle about it. The kiss deepens, as fierce and consuming as the storm around us, filled with all the words we haven’t said yet and all the promises we both intend to keep. The rest of the world falls away until there’s nothing but this – her warmth against me, the taste of her lips, and the certainty that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.