Roark’s tentacle caresses my cheek. “Now we heal. We adapt. We see what the future brings.”
I trace the delicate patterns on his skin, gathering my courage. “You know, when I took this lighthouse job, I thought I was choosing solitude. Turns out I was just waiting for the right company.” I press my lips to the smooth skin where his chest meets his tentacles. “I love you, you know.”
The words fall from my lips easier than I expected, like they’ve been waiting there all along.
His eyes widen, then soften, the gold flecks glowing with an inner light. “And I love you, my treasure. You are more than just a lighthouse keeper. You’re the keeper of my heart.”
“That was almost poetic,” I tease, but my voice breaks a little.
“I’ve had a century to practice,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. “And an eternity to show you.”
Chapter 21
Guardians of the Light
Roark
I coil one of my tentacles around the spiral staircase railing of the lighthouse, feeling the smooth texture against my suction cups as I make my way down.
Six months. Half a year since I nearly bled out on the docks of Cape Tempest, surrounded by a crowd of terrified humanswho’d witnessed my true form for the first time. Half a year since everything changed.
“Tour starts in twenty minutes!” Ashe calls from below, her voice echoing up the stairwell. “And don’t forget we need to check the lens rotation mechanism before the afternoon group!”
I suppress a laugh. Ever the professional lighthouse keeper, my Ashe. Even with a cthulhu for an assistant.
“Already inspected it at dawn,” I call back, my voice carrying that slight oceanic resonance that humans find either fascinating or unnerving. “Rotational alignment is calibrated. Though I detected a minor fluctuation in the LED backup system that might warrant investigation.”
From the kitchen comes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort. “Show-off.”
I navigate the bottom of the stairs, compressing my bulk slightly to fit through the doorway into the living quarters. Ashe stands at the kitchen counter, hair pulled back in her trademark messy bun, a few rebellious strands framing her face.
She’s sorting brochures for today’s tours, organized in neat stacks that she’ll inevitably have to replenish by day’s end. The morning sunlight catches the auburn in her hair, turning it to fire.
“Simply thorough,” I correct her, extending two tentacles to gently wrap around her waist. “A century at sea teaches one to leave nothing to chance.”
She leans back against my chest. “I suppose that’s why you triple-check the weather reports even though I’ve told you my left knee is a better barometer than any satellite.”
I lower my head, the tentacles of my beard parting as I press my lips against her forehead. “Your knee predicted sunshine yesterday. And yet I distinctly remember rain.”
“A passing shower hardly counts.” She swats at one of my tentacles with a brochure.
This comfortable banter, this… domesticity. Sometimes I still wake expecting to find myself alone in the depths, cold currents my only companion.
Instead, I find her curled against my side, unafraid of the gentle grip my tentacles maintain even in sleep.
Ashe turns. “How do you feel about another elementary school tour next week? I know we just had one, but apparently you’ve become quite the educational attraction.”
I chuckle. “I suspect it has less to do with my extensive knowledge of maritime history and more to do with the children’s fascination that I can touch my nose with all of my eight limbs simultaneously.”
“It’s a rare skill,” she teases, placing her hands against my chest, warm against my cooler skin. “Some might even call it a superpower.”
I enfold her with my arms and four tentacles this time, lifting her slightly off the ground in the way I know she secretly enjoys. “Is that what draws you to me? My tentacular dexterity?”
“Oh absolutely,” she deadpans. “Has nothing to do with your intelligence, kindness, or how you saved an entire boatload of people from certain death.”
“Reassuring.”
Her laugh echoes through the kitchen, bright and unrestrained. That sound—I would brave a dozen more kraken attacks to preserve it.
