Chapter 16
Enchanted Disguises
Ashe
The coastal path feels familiar under my boots as I make my way back to Roark’s cabin. The excitement of what I’m carrying makes the steep hike easier, even as my legs protest the uneven terrain.
It’s been about a week since I last saw him, since we shared something I still can’t fully comprehend—breathing underwater, seeing through his eyes, connecting in a way that went beyond the physical.
In my pocket, a small silver compass pin bounces gently against my thigh with each step. I touch it through the fabric, reassuring myself it’s still there. My answer. Our chance.
I pause at the ridge overlooking his hidden cove, catching my breath. The cabin sits nestled against the cliff face, smoke curling from the chimney. The sight of it makes my heart beat faster, though I blame the climb.
As I approach the weathered door, I take a deep breath and knock lightly.
“It’s Ashe,” I call, suddenly nervous in a way I hadn’t been during our most intimate moments.
The door opens, and there he is—all eight feet of him filling the door frame, skin a deep blue-black that normally shimmers with emotion when he sees me.
Today, though, something’s different. The patterns across his body seem dimmed, like the light’s been taken away.
“Ashe,” Roark says, my name softly resonant in his deep voice.
He steps back to let me enter, tentacles moving with that fluid grace that still mesmerizes me. The cabin is exactly as Iremember from my previous visit—maps spread across tables, books stacked in corners, nautical instruments hanging on the walls—but something feels off. The curtains are drawn tight across windows that should frame spectacular ocean views.
“Everything okay?” I ask, setting down my small backpack.
“Of course,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate. “You’ve returned sooner than expected.”
“I found something,” I say, unable to contain my excitement a moment longer. I dig into my pocket and pull out the silver compass pin, holding it up so it catches the light from his fireplace. “I found Iris.”
His eyes widen slightly, the golden flecks in their darkness seeming to brighten with interest. “You sought her out?”
“I did.” I step closer, holding the pin between us. “She enchanted this for you. It’s a temporary glamour—enough for one day of looking human.”
The patterns across his skin pulse once, bright and hopeful, before settling back into their subdued state.
“One day,” he repeats, voice careful and measured.
“I thought maybe you could use it for the Maritime Festival next week,” I continue, words tumbling out faster now. “We could go together. You could meet some people—not as a cthulhu,obviously, but as… someone with me.” I feel my cheeks warm at the implication.
He reaches out, his hand hovering near the pin without touching it. “A clever solution,” he says, but there’s hesitation in his tone.
“It would be a start,” I press on. “We could introduce you to people like Marina, maybe some others. Build some alliances that could one day help change how the town sees sea creatures.”
Roark moves to the window, pushing the curtain aside just enough to gaze at the ocean. “It’s a kind thought. And I appreciate the effort you took to obtain this gift.” His tentacles shift restlessly behind him. “But I question its realism.”
“What do you mean?”
He turns back to me, expression troubled. “Do you truly believe a few friendly interactions will change Cape Tempest’s long history?”
I frown, surprised by his pessimism. “We have to start somewhere. And there are good people here. Marina, Iris. Even some of the tourists who visit the lighthouse are fascinated by sea creatures, not afraid.”
“Fascination and acceptance are not the same,” he says softly.
Something’s wrong. This isn’t the same Roark who shared his underwater world with me, who looked at me with wonder and hope.
“What happened?” I ask directly. “Since I was here last. Something changed.”
