Page 57

It’s “Do you still want me?”

It’s “Will you let me love you?”

TWENTY-SEVEN

STERLING

There’s a creature that lives in the depths of the sea. A half fish-rodent hybrid that lives in large groups in places humans have never been. It gnaws at its own arm when it’s separated from its pack. Drives itself to the brink of death in search of them. I could never understand that – missing something so bad it could kill you. But in the hours between walking out of Caspian’s house and seeing him again this morning, I finally understood. Stepping into the dark, and heading back to the lighthouse, I felt it — the hollow pit in my heart as tension pulled tight in my muscles. Everything coiling until I was physically aching. I didn’t go to see him. I gave him the space he wanted and shifted and dived into the sea and swam until the sun rose on the horizon. Only then did I go in search of him.

Now, Caspian walks beside me, his hand in mine, eyes on his feet, mud squelching beneath the weight of us. He’d driven us back to the farm after we left the bakery, the same thick silence following us, and then we’d walked past the paddocks, around the barn and into the woods. The same one I’d chased him from a few nights ago. It was his choice. Or it was an unconscious decision on both our parts. I’m not too sure. But it’s where we are now, shaded under the canopy, the trees alive with birdsong and a gentle breeze.

Caspian leads me to a fallen log, moss and mushrooms growing in the weathered cracks at its base. He sits down and I take the spot next to him.

“Where do you live?” His question surprises me. It’s not the first thing I expected him to ask. It’s not even in the top five.

“All over.”

He scowls. “None of those half answers today, Sterling.” He pouts his lip, and it’s all I can do not to lean in and bite it.

“I’m not lying. I have lived in many places around the UK. Mostly in the sea. Sometimes on land. Never in a city. Always near the coast.”

“And now?”

“Now I live here. In your lighthouse.”

His eyes widen, a frown drawing across his forehead. He has this look like he’s working out a complicated equation.

“I saw you,” he admits, shifting away from me. “I saw a green glow in there one night and it was you. It had to have been. Have you been watching me this whole time?”

He’s back to being the prickly version of Caspian I met that first day on the beach, not that I can blame him.

“Yes.” No more lies. “I watch you. And not only when you’re aware.”

“Okay.”

“Is it?”

He shakes his head, brown hair flopping about his forehead.

“You know that’s wrong, right? It’s creepy.”

“I told you last night, my sweet human. I have been selfish. I wanted you. Wanted to be close to you. Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but I don’t regret it. Do you?”

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and my eyes catch once again on the indent of my teeth in his neck.

“No,” Caspian finally says, a breath blowing out as his shoulders slump. “I want to be mad at you. I should be. Hell, I should run for the hills and never look back. You’re a monster. A real fucking supernatural being.”

I lean forward, dropping my voice. “But I am also just a man hopelessly in love with his human. His mate.”

Caspian points a finger at me. “Why are you so sure we’re mates?”

I grin, teeth flashing as I reach out one finger and press it firmly to the bite on his neck. His eyelids flutter closed and heat pools low in my belly.

“Instinct,” I reply.

Caspian opens his eyes again – they're dark and hazy, his breaths coming thick and fast. He rubs a fist over his heart.

“You can feel it. Even if you don’t know what it is, you know it’s something.” I inch closer, closing the space between us. “It’s us, Caspian. Fate or Mother Nature or whatever your human mind believes in brought us together.”