Page 22 of Seducing Scylla
21
Scylla
My lips tingle where Morgan kissed me. The flash of heat that was doused just as quickly as it started made me shiver as I dipped below the water and through the cavern that opened out to the sea.Be careful,she said. And I will be. But I will also be fast. The ache in my chest is already urging me to return to her. I cannot tell if it is a side effect of the mate bond or my own feelings that have built over the short time I have known Morgan. We are so different, but also the same in many ways. The deep hurt that lingers in our hearts begs for someone to ease it, and perhaps we can do that for each other.
The water rushes past me as I use my tentacles to propel me forward at a dizzying speed, dodging currents and dangerous rips that could suck me down to the depths if I am not careful.Be careful. Those words echo around my head, and I slow just a fraction so thatI do not accidentally misjudge the motions of the sea. While it would not cause me harm, it would delay me significantly, and I want to get home to my mate.Our home, if she has warmed up to the idea of staying.
A rush of bubbles escapes my lips as I laugh underwater, imagining all the time we could spend together if she stayed. She kissed me. Surely that means her heart is warming to me. I wish to make her laugh, hold her when she cries, keep her warm at night, feed her sweet oranges every day, and feel her soft curves beneath my hands as I wash her in the hot spring.
The first of the big metal boxes, or containers, as Morgan called them, appears bobbing in the water above me. I circle it from below, noticing the metal has not been breached, and I head to the surface so I can see the structure above the water. Circling it, I find one of the shorter ends has what seems to be a door and a latch. Pulling on the lever, it screeches as it shifts upwards, but the pressure of the water keeps the door from opening. I brace my tentacles around the edges of the metal box, using my body weight to leverage myself as I heave the door open. It shifts slightly, letting a rush of water floodinside, breaking the pressure seal. The door then flings wide open, and the container swiftly plummets below the water.
I grimace and fling myself down after it. If there were people inside, I may have just doomed them to a watery death. The container slows its descent into the darkness now that it is full of water. I reach the open door, my eyes allowing me better vision in the darkening water. There is no one inside. Only brown cubes, all stacked atop one another. I let out a sigh. That could have been catastrophic. Morgan would be devastated if I had caused the deaths of other humans, accidental or not.
I propel myself to the next container, not too far from where the first one was. This time, I bang on the metal walls, listening intently for any noise inside. Nothing but silence replies as the waves lap at me. It could mean there is no one inside or it could mean they are unconscious. I decide to risk opening it, pulling at the latch on the door and breaking the pressure seal again. This time, I am prepared for how fast it sinks, holding on as the door pops open. Brown cubes again. No humans.
I rush to the last container. It feels like I have been out here for a very long time, and the tension in my chest tightens with each mile Iswim further away from Morgan. I repeat the process, knocking and listening for any noises before tugging the metal door open. A glance inside shows brown cubes again, and then I am spinning beneath the water, already on my way back to the cave where Morgan waits for me.
I think of her sitting on my furs in front of the fire, perhaps anxious for me to return. It has been a long and mentally straining day for us both, and I decide to catch her some fish to roast over the fire for her supper. I head to my usual hunting spot, the water brimming with sea life. I still, my hunter senses taking over and letting the fish get used to my presence amongst them. The silence is calming, and I feel my body relax into the tug and pull of the sea. I hope Morgan will be happy with this meal since I am still learning what she does and does not like. My tentacles snap out, catching two sea bass unawares. My tentacles tighten around them, keeping them securely trapped.
I cannot stop thinking of Morgan as I make the return journey to my home, and of all the ways I might caress her, of how her body would move beneath mine as I teased her with every limb I have. Would she make the same noises she did when she tasted thesweet orange? Would she touch me? My chest pangs, the tightness becoming more painful despite nearing the entrance to my cave.
Three lethal shadows appear in the water before me. My sharks come to greet me as I return home. They are frenzied and at first, I think it is because of the fish in my tentacles.
“Not for you, my darlings,” I speak to them, pulling the sea bass away from their jaws.
“Taken.”
“Mate.”
“Male.”
They speak over one another in one-word sentences, repeating it as they circle anxiously around me. I pause, trying to make sense of the overlapping words. The sea bass is forgotten, my tentacles slackening to let them wriggle free. I am frozen, comprehension washing over me. The male has taken my mate.
22
Morgan
My chest pangs with a strange tightness that gradually builds. Don’t tell me this is another mate bond thing. I hope it doesn’t mean Scylla is hurt or in danger. I don’t know what to do with idle hands, so I straighten up what little personal effects Scylla has in her home, admiring a shelf of knick-knacks that she must’ve found in her time exploring the sea. I fluff the furs, stoke the fire, rearrange the stone knives on the bench, and then I go back to pacing. The cave is comfortably warm now and there are no signs of Scylla’s pet sharks, so I sit by the edge of the pool and dip my toes in the cool water, keeping a careful eye out for shadows beneath the surface.
I think over the last few days and what a tumultuous ride it’s been; from being kidnapped to trafficked and now here I am, making myself at home in a sea monster’s caveafterhaving kissed saidsea monster and sending her on her way. I look around at Scylla’s home; it’s sparse but warm, cozy even. It’s not horrible at all and perhaps with a few extra adornments, I might be quite comfortable here. There’s so much to learn about this island and it makes me uncomfortable to rely on Scylla for my survival, even though I get the impression she’s quite happy to look after me.
My biggest needs are a bathroom, food, and clothes, not necessarily in that order, but if I have to walk all the way to the hot spring to bathe every time I need to, it’s going to get old really fast. Clothing is going to be the biggest issue. Obviously, Scylla doesn’t require any. I snort a laugh, imagining Scylla wearing pants that had leg holes for eight tentacles. I don’t know how long this dress will last if I’m wearing it every day, and I’ll have to go out and try to look for my cardigan at some point. If one of those containers has clothing in it, it would be a huge stroke of luck. I’ll have to ask Scylla when she gets back. That is, if she knows what she’s looking at.
Scylla. My thoughts linger on the striking seven-foot-tall sea monster and all the effort she’s gone through to make sure I have everything I need. The tenderness and comfort I’ve felt in her arms. The unmistakable feeling of safety when I’m by her side. Not oncehave I felt afraid since finding myself in her furs, like my soul knows she is my home. I sigh, closing my eyes. What have I got myself into? The heat that flares between us every time we touch assures me that our chemistry will be hot. Scorchingly so. But how much of that is the mate bond and how much of it is genuine want? It’s easier to assess my feelings when she’s not close by. Her presence muddles my brain and I find it hard to think about anything other than her.
The tension in my chest begins to ease and I don’t know if that is a good sign or a worse one. Three dark shadows circle beneath the water and I take that as my cue to remove my feet. Standing, I straighten my dress, fiddling with the skirt of it before deciding it’ll do. I’ve decided that I’d like to give this mate thing a chance. After all, there’s not much to go back to if I did somehow make it off this island. Sure, I’ll miss my job and modern amenities. But something in my heart tells me that giving this a chance is important.
We’ll have to communicate, a lot, until I get the hang of, well, everything. It sure isn’t going to be easy, but what in life is? Now, I just have to tell Scylla that I’d like to stay with her. If she’ll have me. Why are my palms so sweaty? I wipe my hands along my dress, anxiety urging me to pace again. Surely, Scylla won’t be much longer.The nagging tug in my chest is still present. I do one lap of the cave before turning and retracing my invisible path in the stone.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you, Sunshine.”
I gasp, freezing in place as I face a bedraggled man holding one of the sharp stone blades from Scylla’s bench to my throat. His dark hair is plastered to his head, matted and greasy. His clothes are dirty and torn in places. A thin layer of sand and dirt coats his sun-tanned skin, making him look like he hasn’t bathed in a couple of days. His eyes are dark as he passes his gaze over me and licks his lips.
I shiver, invisible grime coats my skin under his gaze, and I feel queasy.
“What do you want?” My voice quivers.
“You, Sunshine. And your little tentacled friend.” His voice is gravelly, like a pack-of-cigarettes-a-day smoker.
