16. Oona

After two and a half weeks of traveling on foot, Nick and I have made it to the other side of the lagoon. We’re exhausted, and while our supplies lasted us the first week, I had to hunt for us during the second. Thankfully, Nick understood the basics of fishing and caught us several trout to enjoy over a roaring campfire. These don’t taste as tainted as the other fish, but they’re still not as tasty as they used to be.

We don’t have any more unfortunate run-ins with boars, but there were a few harrowing moments where he stepped on something nasty, and I had to lick his feet to heal them. Not my fetish. Not my fetish at all. And thankfully not his, either.

I’ve never been this far away from home before. Never needed to be. When I hatched, I stayed in the area and secured myself a cave to live in until a few stupid bears came and ruined everything. That was so long ago. Then I made the tree house fort. But I’ve never had any wanderlust. Never wanted to see what was beyond my lagoon even after the men in their boats would come by, make a bunch of noise, dump whatever, and then leave. Maybe I should have been more curious, because looking at the vibrant skyline of Sugardove City with Nick, I can see the appeal. Sort of.

His eyes are like gemstones, twinkling against the bright lights as he gazes at the city across the lagoon. It’s still far away. A long swim to carry him on my back, but we can make it. I’ll just need to eat a hearty dinner, first. Going under the cloak of night would be best so no one sees him being carried by a literal monster.

When Nick’s fingers graze mine then lace between them, my heart clenches. I let out a soft sigh and hang my head, allowing my greasy, matted hair to fall in my eyes.

He squeezes my hand. “Hey,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

It doesn’t feel okay. None of this feels okay. Doing the right thing isn’t always the thing that feels good, I’m figuring out. If he stays with me, he won’t live the way he’s supposed to live. Might not reach his species life expectancy, however long that is. I’m not even sure how long my species is supposed to live. Maybe I’m already toward the end? There’s so much about myself I don’t know, something that used to not bother me but now does.

Who am I, really? And where did I come from? Does it even matter? Without him by my side, probably not. I’ll continue to live the way I always have. It’s worked for me up until … him. But now that I know what love feels like, how can I simply go back to the way things were before?

“I’ll miss you,” I finally say in my own tongue. Then the tears come. Slowly at first, then all at once, like a torrent of rain in the summer.

Shuddering, I turn away and kneel in the grass, obscuring my face so he can’t see. But he sees. He knows. Nick always knows. That’s what makes him so wonderful. The fact that he always knows what’s going on with me even when we can’t put it into words the other will understand. We communicate with our emotions and actions, which, in my opinion, are more honest than any words, anyway.

He kneels beside me and drapes his arm around my shoulders. “Oona,” he whispers in my ear. “Oona, look.”

I lift my gaze to his and sniffle.

Then he says in my own tongue, “Stay. With me.”

Stay with him? How am I going to do that? I can’t live in his world … can I?

It isn’t possible. I know what the humans do when they think they’ve caught sight of something they can’t comprehend. There have been close calls in the past, when fishermen and touring boats would scuttle past only to catch sight of the “Monster of Lake L’Amour.” I know they’re referring to me and not the fucking alligators. Everyone shrieks and gasps and leans over the boat gawking with their dark boxes held up. No idea what they are, but judging from what I’ve found in my lagoon in the past, they’re probably some sort of weapon.

“Can’t,” I say in his tongue. He’s come a long way with learning my tongue these past three months, but he still can’t quite grasp more complex sentences. I desperately want to say so many things to him. How much I adore him. How important these past few months have been to me. How much I’ll miss him but know that his returning to his people is a necessity.

I can’t say any of that. Maybe if we had more time. If only we had more time.

“Yes,” he says, stroking his thumbs across my cheeks. Lovingly. He smiles at me, and the crow’s feet around his eyes crinkle, making him look a hundred times more handsome in my eyes. “Yes, we can.”

I love him, truly I do, but I’m not sure if he’s thought this through.

“You go, Nick,” I repeat. “I stay. Safe.”

His throat bobs up and down, like he’s considering my words. Then he shakes his head and stands. “We go. You. Me. There.” He points across the lagoon to the harbor in the distance. To the docks. “Swim?”

“Eat,” I say, and rub my stomach. “Food. Meat.”

He nods, understanding, then busies himself with building a fire while I head off into the woods to find something nocturnal to munch on.

I really thoughtI could carry a full-grown man on my back across a frigid channel. I really thought.

Nick clings to me tight, threatening to choke me because if he relaxes even for a fraction of a second, there’s a serious chance he’ll get swept away by the current. Which I didn’t realize was so strong. And which I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be able to beat even though I’m in peak athletic condition.

“You’re doing great, Oona!” Nick yells in his own tongue. I only understood two of those words, but his tone was clear enough. I grit my teeth and propel myself forward, straining against the current and wind. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of predators to contend with. I don’t think I’d be able to fend them off, protect my mate, and make it across all at the same time.

After what feels like an hour of swimming, we finally reach the docks. I latch on to a wooden pillar and wrap my tail around it to steady myself, then use my remaining energy to hoist Nick up so he can grab the ledge and pull himself up the rest of the way. Once he stands up and shakes his hair of the excess water, he leans over and offers me his hand.

I stare up at him, again wanting to say so much and not able to say anything at all. I shake my head.

“Oona, come!” he yells. “Come!”

I’m frozen in a moment in time, and his face is the only thing I see. The sweet, handsome face I’ve grown to love. All the precious moments we spent together. All the moments we will never get to have. Sleeping together, nestled underneath the bearskin blankets. Making love by a firepit he made with his own two hands. Feasting on roasted boar I hunted for the two of us. A future we can’t have because we are not the same.

If only fate had been kinder and allowed me to be born a human, perhaps we’d have a home in the city and boisterous young ones running about. Or maybe we’d be childfree and living out the rest of our days doing … whatever it is that humans do. But that future doesn’t exist. Not for us.

“Goodbye, my love,” I murmur in my own tongue, and release my tail from the pole. Then I allow myself to be carried off by the current, leaving Nick screaming my name into the wind.