Page 21 of Ocean's Whisper

"Considerate," she murmured, picking it up. Her own phone was floating somewhere in the Atlantic.

The device unlocked without a passcode, revealing a clean home screen with only essential apps. She immediately opened the news app, her heart pounding. The headline made her stomach drop:

Mysterious Tidal Wave Destroys Marine Research Station - No Casualties

She scanned the article quickly, finding confirmation of everything she remembered—except the part about her causingit. There were quotes from meteorologists baffled by the lack of seismic activity and the impossibly localized nature of the wave.

"I need to help them," she said, throwing back the covers and grabbing her duffel bag. Her colleagues would be sorting through the wreckage, salvaging what equipment and research they could. It was her responsibility to be there.

After dressing in the jeans and light blue blouse she had packed, she stepped into the hallway, immediately realizing she had no idea how to navigate this castle. The corridor stretched in both directions, lined with intricate tapestries depicting ocean scenes and doors that all looked identical.

"Left it is," she decided, setting off down the hallway. Her footsteps echoed on marble floors as she passed room after room, each more elaborate than the last. A library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A sitting room with antique furniture. An empty ballroom with chandeliers that caught the morning light and fractured it into thousands of rainbows.

"This place is ridiculous," she muttered, trailing her fingers along a wall inlaid with mother-of-pearl. "Who actually lives like this?"

A prince of waterwolf shifters, apparently.

As she rounded another corner, she nearly collided with a young woman carrying fresh linens.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming," Isolde apologized.

The young woman's eyes widened. "You must be Miss Morgan." She gave a small curtsy that made Isolde instantly uncomfortable.

"Please don't do that. I'm just Isolde." She gestured vaguely around her. "I'm afraid I'm a bit lost. I need to find my way out. My colleagues need help with the cleanup from last night's wave."

"His Highness left explicit instructions that you were to be brought to him when you woke." The young woman's tone waspolite but firm. "He's on the east terrace. I can show you the way."

Isolde hesitated. She needed to get to the research station site, but she also had questions only Nereus could answer. And beneath it all, she still felt that strange magnetic pull toward him that she couldn't explain.

"That's okay. I can find it myself. Besides, I would like to get more familiar with the castle since I'll be here for a while," Isolde replied, hoping the half-lie would convince the young woman to leave her alone.

The young woman stared at her for a long moment and then nodded, continuing down the corridor with her fresh linens.

Isolde wandered deeper into the castle's maze of corridors. The thought of breakfast with Nereus sent a flutter through her stomach that wasn’t because of her hunger. She turned a corner and spotted an ornate wooden door left slightly ajar, golden morning light spilling from within.

Her curiosity piqued, she pushed the door open and stepped inside to what appeared to be a study. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining one wall were filled with leather-bound volumes in varying states of age. A massive oak desk dominated the center of the room, its surface scattered with papers bearing elegant script.

"Definitely not the east terrace," she murmured to herself.

The room smelled of parchment, ink, and something distinctly masculine. Nereus's scent. Her cheeks warmed at the memory of his kisses, how natural they had felt despite the bizarre circumstances.

Her eyes soon darted around his space, searching for anything that might help her make sense of this unusual situation. Suddenly, a particular section of books caught her eye on the wall of bookshelves. The book spines were a deep azure blue with silver lettering. Drawn to them like the tide to shore,she approached and ran her finger along them until she found one titled "The Seafang Legacy."

"This might explain a few things," she whispered, carefully pulling the book from its place.

She settled into a plush leather armchair and opened the heavy volume. The pages were filled with illustrations of wolves, oceans, and what appeared to be rituals. She flipped through until a chapter heading caught her attention: "The Luna's Ascension."

The Luna is the sacred counterpart to the alpha, guardian of the pack's spiritual equilibrium and wielder of elemental magic. When a female wolf reaches her thirtieth year, her powers awaken, often manifesting dramatically through her connected element. The alpha must then claim his Luna, or the pack's very foundation will begin to crumble...

Isolde's breath caught. Thirtieth year. Elemental magic. The tidal wave. It aligned too perfectly with what Nereus had told her.

"What do you think you're doing in here?"

The sharp voice startled Isolde so badly, she nearly dropped the book. An older woman stood in the doorway, her steel-gray hair pulled into a severe bun, wearing a formal black dress with a ring of keys at her waist.

"I'm sorry, I was just?—"

"This is His Highness's private study. These materials are not for casual perusal." The woman's eyes narrowed as she took in the book in Isolde's hands. "You're Miss Morgan, I presume. I'm Edith Carlisle, head housekeeper of this estate."

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