Page 20 of Cerban
For a heartbeat, I could only stare. She looked fragile, yet her eyes shone with stubborn fire and the cuts on her arms were healing well. My mate.
“Surprise,” she said, slightly breathless.
I crossed the room in two strides and caught her before she could stumble out of the trolley, steadying her against me. “You should be in bed.”
“And miss this?” She tilted her chin up, defiant. “Not a chance. Besides, I had something important to tell you.”
Rainse cleared his throat. "I will give you some time together. Knock on the wall when you need me. And brother... don't do anything stupid."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the little camera housing. “The bubbles. They weren’t random, Cerban. They pulsed in a pattern. Five bursts, then a pause. Over and over. Look.”
She showed me the grainy footage, and there it was: the rhythm, steady as a drumbeat.
I felt the hair along my arms rise, my gills flaring with the memory of their metallic tang. “I saw them too. I thought… later. But later never came.”
Her eyes met mine, fierce and bright. “Then we have to go back. Whatever made those bubbles – it’s not natural. It means something.”
The words lit a spark in her, but in me they ignited only fear. I tightened my grip on her hand, perhaps too much, because she winced. “No. Never again. That cave almost killed you. I will not take you back there.”
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. She pulled her hand free, anger sparking in her gaze. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I dragged you out of there half-dead,” I said sharply. “Your tank empty, your body limp. I won’t see that happen again.”
Maelis bristled, the fragile flush of her cheeks belying the steel in her voice. “It nearly killed me, yes. But it also gave me purpose. If I can understand the bubbles, then that cave isn’t just where I almost died. It’s where I found something bigger. Don’t you see? It’s not just fear – it’s a mystery worth solving.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration tightening every muscle. She was fragile, human, still recovering. Yet she stood there, fire in her eyes, ready to dive back into the very place I dreaded most.
“Cerban.” Maelis’s voice softened, steady but no less determined. “You saved my life. But I’m not a child. I won’t spend the rest of my time here afraid of the water. And I won’t ignore what I saw down there.”
I closed my eyes, torn between instinct and reason, between my need to shield her and her need to seek answers.
One thing was certain: I wouldn’t let her face it alone, no matter what I said now.
When I opened them again, she was watching me, her expression unreadable.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly. “I mean – yes, you saved me. But this is more than duty, isn’t it? You’re… different with me.”
Her words struck like a harpoon. If she knew the truth – that every beat of my heart now throbbed in time with hers, that my greenskin would always guide me to wherever she was in the world, no, the universe – what then? She wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet.
I stepped closer, fighting the urge to take her into my arms. “You were dying in my arms, Maelis. Do you think anyone could walk away from that unchanged?”
Her breath caught. She tilted her chin up, and the defiance in her dark eyes melted into something softer, something dangerous. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just saying that to make me feel special.”
“I don’t say what I don’t mean.” My voice was low, rougher than I intended.
We stood close enough that her scent – salt and florals and home – wrapped around me like the tide. My hand itched to touch her, to trace the line of her jaw, to remind myself she was real and alive.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Her lips parted ever so slightly, her gaze flicking down to my mouth before darting back up again. The air between us thickened. A storm was brewing and this time, it wasn't happening on the outside.
Then she stepped back, the spell breaking. “This… whatever this is… it can’t happen, can it? Paul, Pam, the rules – they’d never allow it.”
The distance cut sharper than any blade, but I forced myself to stay still. “Rules are fragile things. They can be broken.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “You really don’t make this easy.”
Her laugh faded, leaving only the steady thud of her pulse, quick and unsteady. She didn’t step further away. Instead, she lingered there in the charged space between us, eyes locked on mine.
I moved before I thought better of it, closing the last inches. My hand rose, fingers brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. Her skin was warm beneath my touch, fragile and alive in a way that made my chest ache.
