Page 24 of Seducing Scylla
Scylla
Iall but launch myself out of the water and into my home, water cascading down my body and pooling along the cave floor. The ache in my chest grows. My body vibrates with fury, knowing Morgan is getting further away. There is no sign of distress, everything is perfectly in its place, as if someone has tidied, but Morgan is not here where she should be, inourhome.
I move swiftly to the cave entrance, following the tug in my chest down the tunnels, testing which forks to take, the ache in my chest growing when I take a path that leads me further away. It is slow-going as I have to backtrack a few times until I am exiting the tunnel onto the beach. Rage boils beneath my skin. How dare this male take what is not his. A fire flickers in the distance, where the sand and scrub merge. Foolish man. He has lit a beacon in the dark, unaware of the monsters that lurk in it. I run my tongue along the sharp rowsof my teeth. Humans may be gamey, but I’ll make an exception for this one.
Shadows encase me in darkness as I slither toward the shore from the entrance of the cave. I try not to move too quickly lest I draw attention to myself, despite my twitching limbs protesting otherwise. The feel of the sand attaching itself to my suckers as I move only adds to my fury. The urge to attack this male and strangle him with my tentacles for touching my mate writhes inside my veins.
I tread in the shallows, silent and stealthy, the water barely rippling around me until the fire is in my direct line of sight from the water’s edge. The warm light illuminates Morgan. Her arms look to be bound behind her back where she sits at the base of a cypress tree, her face a mirror image of my own, contorted in anger as she spits at him across the fire. Pride at her display of fierceness briefly expands in my chest before it is overtaken with rage again as the male rounds on her, stalking her around the fire.
I move as quickly and quietly as I can from the water and up the beach, the ache in my chest easing the closer I get to Morgan, and I long to hold her in my arms and never let her go. I am close enough now to see the male’s hand reach out and trace a finger along theneckline of Morgan’s dress. I cannot control the hiss that escapes my mouth. My tentacles shoot forward, wrapping around his limbs and yanking him back toward me in the darkness. His feeble attempt to wriggle free halts with a quick snap of his neck before I fling him to the side in a spray of sand.
I rush to Morgan, her head slumped forward on her chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath. I reach behind her, my tentacles snapping the rope keeping her bound. Relief makes my body sag. Besides the redness around her wrists, she is unharmed. I cradle her to my chest, her body limp and pliant, and bury my face in her hair, inhaling the smell of the ocean and lingering zest of the citrus grove that has imprinted on her skin. I cannot believe I almost lost her. The loss of a mate before truly knowing them would be a sadistic twist by the Fates to my already tortured story.
I send the dead male’s body a glare, begrudgingly wrapping a tentacle around his ankle, before bundling Morgan up in my arms. His death was far too swift and lenient for my liking, and I cannot leave him to fester and rot on the beach. I carry her back home to our cave, the male’s body dragging along the rough ground behind us. Once inside, I release my hold on the male, leaving him sprawledout on the floor, his skin now raw and oozing from being dragged along the rough tunnel floors. I place Morgan down on my furs and relight the fire, letting warmth envelop the cave.
Turning, I pick up the male’s body. “Dinner time, my darlings.”
I grin, baring all three rows of my sharp teeth as I let his body drop into the pool of water where my darlings are lazily swimming in circles. Instantly, the pool becomes a flurry of sloshing waves and gnashing teeth as the water bubbles and turns red before filtering back to the clear sea water it was before. And just like that, it was as if he never existed.
25
Morgan
Iwake with a jolt of fear, shouting and wrestling against my restraints before I become fully aware that I’m not tied up anymore, nor am I on the beach. A gentle shushing calms my racing heart as I realize the weight pinning me down is one of Scylla’s thick blue-purple tentacles. Her fingers brush through my hair with such gentleness that I could weep. My nervous system feels completely and utterly shot and quite frankly, after the last few days I’ve had, I never want to leave this little nest of Scylla’s limbs. Ever.
My bottom lip quivers before a loud racking sob bursts from me. This has been the most terrifying few days of my whole life. Scylla says nothing while she continues to hold me; her gentle petting of my hair and arms never stopping while I sob in her arms. I cling to her as if she is my life raft; the one thing keeping me afloat in a stormy sea of emotions. My sobs become hiccups around the same time myhead starts to pound, and my eyes turn red and swollen from all the crying.
Silent, Scylla picks me up, still cradled in her arms. I sniffle and bury my head in the crook of her neck, not ready to face the world yet. We’re briefly engulfed by darkness and then the glowing blue lights of thousands of glow worms. I poke my head up. We’re in a small cave, with a smaller hot pool against one rocky wall, and to another side is an alcove with a small hole in the ground that drops down into the darkness below. I blink, understanding blooms. It’s a bathroom of sorts. The man’s words reverberate through my achy skull. She didn’t check the hot pool. This hot pool that I didn’t even know existed.
“He was hiding in here,” I whisper, still staring dumbfounded at this little cave.
Scylla hisses. “It was my mistake for not checking.”
I close my eyes, tears threatening to well again.
“Where is he?” My voice breaks.
“You do not have to fear him any longer.”
My shoulders sag, relief washing over me. I don’t ask what happened to him. I don’t want to know. I’m just relieved he’s gone, and I don’t have to worry about him coming back.
“I-I am sorry, Morgan. I did not protect you as I should have. You are my mate and my mistake led you to be taken.”
Scylla’s voice cracks and I peer up at her. She looks so sad. I don’t know if she can cry, but the black eyes that reflect the pretty glow of the worms illuminating the cave look glassier than usual.
“I understand if you wish to reject the mate bond. If,” she swallows, the words thick in her mouth, “you do not wish for me to be your mate. I have not cared for you the way you should have been. I gave you the wrong water, and—” she rambles, and I stare up at her, wide-eyed, before placing my fingers across her lips, halting her speech.
“Stop. You are my mate, and I won’t have anyone else.” My voice is firm.
“I am not a good mate.” Her voice is hushed as she speaks around my fingers.
“I don’t care. I had already decided I was staying. That I was going to see what this was between us. It’s new, and it’s scary, and I don’tknow anything about what is involved in being your mate, but I’m willing to give it a shot. If you are?”
Scylla’s bottom lip trembles. She brings her forehead down to meet mine, my green eyes meeting her pitch-black ones across the short distance between us.
“I promise I will do better. Be better.”
“You don’t have to do or be better. I have felt nothing but safety and contentment from the moment I found myself in your furs. I just want you to be you. We can learn how to do all of this,” I wave my hand around us, “together.”
