Page 21 of Make Out With A Merman

“Restricted swim zones. Deep alert training for all staff. And I want the magical anchors reactivated.”

“They haven’t been used in”

“I know,” I cut in. “Get them.”

She leaves, already texting.

Callie stays.

Her fingers brush mine on the map. Brief. Warm.

“I saw the way it hit you,” she murmurs. “Like it knew you.”

I look at her. “It does.”

She doesn’t flinch. “Then we fight smarter. Together.”

There’s no sass in her now. No quips. Just steel under freckles.

And I realize something:

She’s not just glitter and chaos.

She’s grit. And guts.

And if this rift opens all the way, she’s exactly the kind of fire I want beside me.

Later that night,I meet Torack down by the old boathouse. He’s waiting in the shadows, arms crossed, sea-stone beads threaded through his beard like silent warnings.

I don’t waste time. “It’s active.”

He nods once. “I felt the shift this morning. Thought maybe I was imagining it.”

“You weren’t.”

Torack’s eyes flick to the lake, dark and still under the stars. “Is it waking slow? Or is it coming hard?”

“It’s probing,” I say. “Testing the edges.”

His jaw tightens. “Same as before.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Worse. It feels older.”

Torack goes quiet.

“You think it’s the breach at Wren’s Hollow?”

“No.” My voice is steady. “I think it’s the core fracture under Lightring itself.”

He curses under his breath. “You’d better be wrong.”

“I’m not.”

He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “We always knew the camp sat too close to deep water. Too much magic. Too much pressure. We made it work because you made it work.”

“It’s not just campers anymore,” I say, voice sharp. “Max went under today. If Callie hadn’t been there, I don’t know if he’d have come up.”

Torack nods grimly. “And it’s not just Max.”

---