“What do you usually do when you’ve exhausted yourself?” I asked quickly, trying to find a solution as fast as possible.
“I need to drain it,” he said, the words slower now. “Into the sea.”
“What?”
“Take me down to the water,” he said, forcing the words through. “I can show you. But we need to move fast. This is—” He exhaled sharply. “It’s pressing down on me, like its crushing me, and I might—” He trailed off as his dark eyes began to roll back.
“Oh no you don’t,” I cut him off immediately, tightening my grip on him. “You are not passing out on me, Mr. Shifter.” I changed my position, pulling one of his arms over my shoulders and bracing myself under his weight as best as I could. “Come on,” I said, already guiding us toward the door. “There’s a cove down the cliff. It’s pretty private, so we can go there and you can do whatever it is you do to get back to your stoic, broody self.”
He let out a strained laugh. “You know you like me broody.” I could almost hear the smile in his voice, a stark contrast to how weak he felt against me. “But yes, the cove below. I know the place.”
“You do? Have you been there before?”
“Just...” His grip tightened slightly as he forced himself to stay upright, his tentacles finding purchase against me to help support his weight. “Let’s move.”
I adjusted my hold on him and pushed the door open as gracefully as I could with my foot, silently wishing I had eight extra limbs to help keep his bulky body upright as I guided us down the path. My focus narrowed to one thing and one thing only—getting him to the ocean before he collapsed completely.
GETTING HIM DOWN THEcliff should have been impossible.
Half the path was uneven, still slightly damp from the ocean breeze—the kind of terrain that demanded full balance even on a good day. And here I was, practically hauling a half-conscious octopus shifter down it while trying not to slip and take us both out in the process.
And yet, somehow, we made it. At this point, I was starting to believe in that adrenaline rush thing mothers get when they have to save their babies from under a car, only my “baby” was a hulking, muscular octopus shifter, and I couldn’t help but feel a little proud of myself.
The second his feet hit the sand at the cove, he pulled away just enough to stand on his own. I stepped back, giving him space, but my eyes stayed locked on him, just in case he decided to faceplant into the ocean and I had to start an entirely new rescue mission—this time involving pulling him out of the waves before he choked on seawater.
Wait... would he even drown?
He was an octopus shifter, so the ocean was kind of his thing, right? I didn’t take any chances, so I kept my attention fixed on him as he moved forward, stepping into the water, his tentacles extending into the waves. I watched closely, trying to understand how this whole draining process worked.
At first, nothing seemed different as he stood there, the tide brushing against his legs. But then, the water began to change.A faint shimmer appeared beneath the surface, subtle enough that I might have missed it if I hadn’t been watching so carefully, but it didn’t stay faint for long. Thick streaks of silver and blue began to spread through the ocean, like cracks of light forming and expanding, pouring outward from where he stood. The glow grew stronger with each passing second, lighting the water in a soft, otherworldly shimmer, and that was when it hit me.
I had seen this before from the cliffs.
Most nights, I stood and looked down, just admiring its beauty. I had always thought it was just another piece of Crescent Cove’s magic, one more beautiful, impossible detail that made this place feel different from anywhere else. But standing here now, watching it happen in real time, I realized the truth.
All those nights I had stood above the cliffs, watching the ocean glow, letting it soothe something restless inside me—it had always been him.
He had said he knew this cove, and now I understood why. Even before we had met that day at his parlor, he had been here, just below me, doing something that was probably routine for him but had become something I found myself looking forward to whenever I caught a glimpse of it in the dark. Even after nights he had left from ourFixer to Fabulous-style adventure in the cottage, I would catch sight of the glow down here, and now I knew it had always been him. That same sense of wonder was deepening now, knowing it had always been him creating that magic all along.
I couldn’t just stand there and observe from afar anymore. Because right now, I was here, standing right beside it, watching it unfold straightfrom the source. And before I could even think it through, my feet were already moving, carrying me toward the waves.
The cool water lapped at my feet as I stepped beside him, close enough now to truly see it—truly see him.
“It’s so beautiful,” I breathed, watching the silver and blue light weave through the water around us.
Up close, it was mesmerizing. Alive in a way I hadn’t fully understood from the cliffs, the glow curling and stretching outward like it was breathing with the tide itself. I glanced at him then, and whatever he was doing, it was definitely working. He looked better now, not fully recovered yet, but the strain in his expression had eased, the tightness in his posture loosening as more and more of that light bled from him into the sea.
“Is thismine?” I asked, my gaze drifting back to the water. “Is this my emotions? The ones you pulled from me tonight?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “With some from earlier clients mixed in. But most of this,” his eyes flicked briefly to the glowing water, “is you.”
“That’s incredible. I didn’t know the emotions you took could turn into this, that they could look this beautiful, especially when they felt so ugly and painful.”
“Emotions are always beautiful,” he said, his breathing finally evening out. “It doesn’t matter what they are. Fear, sadness, stress, happiness, love—even hate. All of it’s beautiful in its own way. Some of it is simply harder to hold onto and keep stored away.”
I had never thought about it like that, but he was right. There was beauty even in the worst emotions. I guess it’s just harder to seeit when you’re the one actually living through them. But knowing Octavius had probably felt every emotion under the sun after each session, yet could still stand here like this and turn them into something so breathtaking... it felt like its own kind of magic.
“Is this where you always come?” I asked. “To drain everything?”
