Page 52 of Drenched

“That song,” he murmured, his voice like a ripple in my mind, soft but impossible to ignore. “It carries something more than melody.”

I tightened the algae fabric around me, the soft glow beneath it dimming under my fingers. “It’s just a lullaby,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. “Something my mother used to sing when I couldn’t sleep.”

His gaze didn’t waver, his claws resting lightly on the edge of the pool. “It shields you,” he said, almost contemplatively. “When you sing, your thoughts slip beyond my reach.”

The revelation hit me like a jolt of static. “You can’t hear me?” The sharpness in my tone betrayed the mix of relief and unease coursing through me.

“No,” he admitted, tilting his head as if studying the phenomenon. “The melody forms a barrier. Delicate, but impenetrable.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady my breathing. “Good,” I muttered. “You shouldn’t be in my head anyway.”

He pushed himself higher from the water, his tail gliding forward before it began to change. Scales shimmered as his form shifted, the smooth flow of muscle and fin splitting into legs. The transformation was seamless, eerie in its quiet efficiency. By the time he stepped onto the stone floor, he stood tall on powerful legs, water streaming down his body in rivulets. He moved closer, each step measured, deliberate, until he loomed over me.

“Why?” I demanded, my voice trembling but determined. “Why save me and not them?”

Rynar’s gaze stayed steady. “Because you fight this place,” he said, his voice calm, but it hit me hard, like a tide I couldn’t pushback. “You’re standing at the edge of the Abyss, and you won’t let yourself fall.”

His words sent a chill through me, but anger flared alongside it. “That’s not an answer,” I snapped. “You let them die. Kim. Jaime. Amanda. You could have saved them.”

His expression darkened, a flicker of something sharp crossing his face. “I did what was necessary.”

“Necessary?” The word tore from my throat, raw and jagged. “You decided they weren’t worth it. You chose me and left them to die.”

“Yes.” The admission was cold, unflinching. “I chose you.”

His honesty knocked the air from my lungs. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. “Why?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Why me?”

He reached for me, his claws brushing against my cheek. The touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “Because you are more,” he said softly. “And because you are mine.”

“I’m not yours,” I hissed, stepping back. The words felt hollow, a fragile protest against the chain he’d wrapped around me.

His lips curved faintly, though the expression held no warmth. “You feel it too,” he murmured. “You may deny it with words, but your soul knows the truth.”

Before I could respond, he turned away, his movements fluid and unhurried. He stepped to the edge of the pool, his legs merging once more into his tail. The transformation rippledthrough him, seamless and unnatural. He slipped back into the water, his silver form glowing faintly beneath the surface.

“Come,” he called, his voice echoing in my mind. “There is something you must see.”

I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to stay on solid ground. But the pull of his presence, the strange compulsion that tied me to him, dragged me forward. The water was cold as I stepped in, biting against my skin, but I didn’t stop. Rynar waited just beneath the surface, his bioluminescence casting soft ripples of light around him.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“You will see,” he said, offering no further explanation. His tail flicked, propelling him deeper into the pool.

I followed, my limbs sluggish against the cold resistance of the water. The glow of the cavern faded as we descended, shadows closing in like an endless curtain. My lungs tightened, the strange sensation of breathing underwater still foreign despite Rynar’s influence. I clung to his form, his silvery glow the only thing keeping the darkness at bay.

As we sank deeper, a faint shimmer appeared below us. Threads of light twisted and pulsed, forming a barrier that stretched endlessly in all directions. The water around it felt heavier, thicker, as if we were brushing against the edge of another world.

“What is this?” I whispered.

“A threshold,” Rynar replied. “Few have crossed it.”

The light shimmered, writhing like living things. As we passed through, a sharp jolt crackled across my skin, electric and alien. I gasped, the sensation rippling through me like a shockwave. The moment we breached the barrier, sound erupted around us.

Whispers.

They coiled and tangled, distorted and hollow, like voices trapped in glass. The noise pressed against my mind, a weight I couldn’t shake. I clung tighter to Rynar, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“What is that?” My voice was barely more than a breath.

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