“Vornas,” I clarify. “You think he’s still out there, looking for us?”
A smile plays at the corners of Krakenos’s mouth as he shakes his head and turns his gaze to the cave walls. “If I’ve learned one thing in my many seasons competing against him, it’s that he hates water.”
I laugh at that. “Sounds like most cats I know.”
Krakenos tilts his head, confusion etching his features. “‘Cats’? Is that a beast similar to him on Earth?”
I nod, then pause, realizing the comparison isn’t quite accurate. “Well, he’s cat-like, for sure. But cats walk on all fours. And they don’t speak. Well, except to whine for food.”
“Sounds preferable,” Krakenos muses, a glint of humor in his eyes. “But to answer your question, there’s no chance he’ll catch us in this biome. He’ll be at least a day behind, as he’ll need to build a raft. His people can’t swim for the life of themselves. And the chances of him finding this little island without sonar…” He trails off, letting the implication hang in the air.
“That’s how you found this place?” I ask, realization dawning on me.
Krakenos nods, and I realize that without him, I’d still be lost at sea. But knowing that Vornas won’t pose much of a threat in this ocean biome is a relief, and a small weight lifts off me.
As silence falls over us once more, I turn my gaze to the opening of the cave, watching the storm rage on with a newfound sense of calm. It looks like we’re going to be here for a while, waiting out the tempest in the safety of this rocky haven. But somehow, the prospect doesn’t seem as daunting as it did before. Not with Krakenos by my side.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence as my curiosity gets the better of me. “What was it like growing up in your world? Before the plague happened, I mean.” I shift slightly, turning to face him more fully, searching his exotic features.
Krakenos looks at me, a faraway expression crossing his face. “It was a different time,” he says with nostalgia and a hint of sadness. “My people were prosperous, and our kingdom was thriving. My father, the king, was a wise and just ruler, and he taught me everything he knew about leadership and responsibility. He showed me the importance of putting our people first, of making difficult decisions for the greater good.”
He pauses, lost in thought, and I find myself leaning in slightly, eager to hear more. There’s something captivating about the way he speaks, the depth of emotion that lies beneath his words.
“I remember one time, when I was just a young prince, my father took me on an expedition to the forbidden depths of our oceans. He showed me the things that lurked in the shadows of our world—the things that we had to protect our people from. He knew I’d never understand until I saw the beasts for myself, just as he didn’t believe his father when he was a young prince. It was a rite of passage, in a way, a test of courage and resolve.”
I nod, trying to imagine the kind of monsters that could frighten a being as powerful as Krakenos. “That must have been terrifying.”
He nods, his gaze distant, lost in the memories of his past. “It was. But it was also a lesson in the importance of strength and courage. My father showed me that a true leader must be willing to face their fears head-on, to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
“Your father sounds like a great man.”
Krakenos smiles softly, pride and sadness on his face. “He is. And I can only hope to live up to his legacy.”
I reach out tentatively, placing a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort, feeling the warm, smooth texture of his skin beneath my fingertips, before returning my hand to my lap. “I’m sure you will,” I say, offering him a small smile of encouragement.
As Krakenos’s words fade, a comfortable silence settles between us. The storm outside continues its relentless assault, but in here, I feel a strange sense of peace. It’s short-lived, though, as Krakenos suddenly rises to his feet, his movements fluid and graceful despite his imposing size.
“I should check on the storm,” he says, and I watch as he moves toward the cave entrance, his silhouette stark against the flashes of lightning that illuminate the turbulent sea beyond. For a moment, I’m struck by how otherworldly he looks—a creature of myth and legend, standing guard at the threshold of our sanctuary.
I watch Krakenos’s silhouette against the stormy backdrop, my mind still processing our conversation. There’s so much more I want to ask him, but my exhaustion is taking over. I try to fight it, but my eyelids are getting heavier by the second.
Scooting back against the cave wall, I can’t help but feel a little safer with Krakenos keeping watch. As I start to doze off, I catch one last glimpse of him standing guard at the entrance.
My last coherent thought before sleep takes over is how surreal this whole situation is. Who would’ve thought I’d end up feeling somewhat at ease in a cave with an alien prince during a raging storm?
Yet, somehow, it feels right.
Chapter 10
Mia
I stir from a deep sleep, my mind foggy and disoriented. For a blissful moment, I forget where I am. Then reality crashes down, and panic surges through me. I bolt upright, wildly looking around the unfamiliar cave.
“Where am I? What’s happening?” I gasp, my voice hoarse from sleep.
A large, blue figure moves toward me, and I instinctively flinch. But then I recognize Krakenos, his black eyes fixed on me with concern.
“Be calm, Mia,” he says. “You’re safe.”
My breathing slows as I remember. The cave. The storm. Krakenos. I run a hand through my tangled hair, trying to gather my thoughts.
“How long was I out?” I ask, surprised by how refreshed I feel.
“A couple of hours,” Krakenos replies. “You seemed to need the rest.”
I nod, stretching my arms above my head. The nap has done wonders for my energy, at least.
“So,” I say, glancing toward the cave entrance. “What’s the weather report?”
He looks back out at the rain. “It will be stormy for a while. It’s odd…” He pauses, his brow furrowing. “I’ve seen storms materialize like that back on Mythos, but for it to happen here too?”
For a moment, concern flashes across his usually stoic features, but he quickly shakes it off before changing the subject.
“Before you fell asleep,” he begins, “you were asking me all about life where I’m from, but I didn’t get to ask… What about your people, Mia?” His voice is unexpectedly gentle, almost coaxing. “What is life like on Earth?”
I pause, trying to figure out how to explain modern human society to an aquatic prince. “Well,” I begin, thinking carefully, “it’s definitely a lot different from your world. For one thing, we don’t have kings or queens. I mean, some countries do, but they’re mostly just figureheads. We have governments, but they’re elected by the people. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”
