Kael gripped the oars tightly, the muscles in his arms flexing with each steady stroke as the boat cut through the calm waves. Eleanor sat across from him, her gaze wandering over the vast expanse of water. The silence between them was broken only by the rhythmic creak of the oars and the occasional call of distant seabirds.

  After a while, Eleanor broke the quiet. “So, how exactly do you plan on getting this creature to show up?”

  Kael didn’t look up, his voice flat and unbothered. “We wait.”

  Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Wait? That’s it? Just sit here in the middle of the ocean and hope it shows up?”

  Kael met her incredulous gaze briefly before returning his focus to rowing. “That’s the plan.”

  She leaned forward, her tone dripping with skepticism. “And what if it doesn’t show up? What then? Are we just going to sit out here until we starve?”

  Kael paused his rowing, leaning on the oars as he gave her a pointed look. “I can go weeks without food or water. You? Not so much.”

  Eleanor huffed, crossing her arms. “Must be nice,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

  Kael smirked faintly, the faintest hint of amusement in his crimson eyes. “It is. And just to remind you, you had the choice not to come with me.”

  She leaned back in her seat, glaring at him. “And yet, here I am. Lucky you.”

  Kael chuckled under his breath, the sound low and gravelly. “Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He dipped the oars back into the water and resumed rowing, the smirk lingering on his face as Eleanor shook her head in exasperation.

  Hours slipped by, the sun now dipping low on the horizon, its warm hues fading into the cool blues of twilight. Eleanor, who had initially embraced this adventure with enthusiasm, now found herself reconsidering. Her earlier excitement had evaporated, replaced by an acute awareness of how utterly tedious this was turning out to be.

  She shifted uncomfortably in the cramped boat, her arms crossed and her back slumped against the wooden edge. The silence between them was oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional lap of water against the hull. She glanced at Kael, who sat motionless, his crimson eyes fixed on the horizon. He hadn’t spoken a word in hours, his stoic demeanor unyielding.

  With a groan, Eleanor let herself sink lower, trying to make herself comfortable. “This is torture,” she muttered under her breath, though she doubted Kael even registered her complaint.

  Kael, in truth, barely noticed her discomfort. His patience was near superhuman, honed over years of tracking prey. Long hours of waiting were second nature to him. Once, he’d waited three days and two nights in the cold shadow of a cliff for his target to appear. Compared to that, this was nothing.

  Eleanor eventually let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her body sinking further into the boat. The subtle rocking of the water, combined with the fading light, began to lull her into a sleepy haze. Her head tilted, and soft snores soon escaped from her slightly parted lips.

  Kael cast her a sidelong glance, observing her for a moment. Her head bobbed gently with the motion of the boat, her expression relaxed in sleep. He exhaled faintly through his nose—a rare moment of calm amidst his usual storm.

  The quietness was a relief. While the Ashen rarely required sleep himself—able to endure up to seven days of wakefulness with minimal rest—he valued the peace that came with silence. With Eleanor sound asleep, the boat was finally still, save for the whisper of the waves and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

  As the last sliver of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon, Kael returned his focus to the water, every sense attuned, waiting for the first sign of movement beneath the surface.

  Kael’s gaze drifted to Eleanor once more, drawn to the peaceful rise and fall of her chest as she slept. She was a curiosity to him—an enigma wrapped in warmth and kindness, qualities so foreign in his world that he hardly knew what to make of them.

  Where others had shied away in fear or revulsion, Eleanor had approached him without hesitation. She had sought conversation, even when he offered little in return. It was disarming. And while he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he found her company oddly comforting, like a flicker of light in a cavern of shadows.

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  Deep within, a part of him stirred—something long buried beneath layers of pain, rejection, and solitude. He couldn’t deny that he’d missed this kind of human connection, the simple act of being seen as more than a tool, a weapon, or worse, a monster. For centuries, he had endured the weight of that perception, and eventually, he’d come to believe it himself. He didn’t deserve kindness, he thought. Basic decency was for men, not for someone like him. So he had shut himself off, building walls around his heart, letting them grow taller and stronger with each passing year.

  Yet now, as he sat in the stillness of the boat, watching Eleanor’s hair shift gently with the breeze, he felt an unfamiliar tug—a yearning he had long since forgotten. His fingers twitched, and before he could stop himself, the thought crept into his mind: What would it feel like to touch her?

  He imagined brushing the strand of hair that had fallen across her face, tucking it softly behind her ear. The idea felt foreign, almost forbidden, but it lingered. Despite everything he had become, despite the monster the world believed him to be, he was still a man. And as much as he tried to deny it, he still had needs and wants, fragile remnants of the humanity he had thought lost.

  Kael clenched his hands into fists, dragging his gaze away from her. The feelings stirring inside him were dangerous, too fragile for the life he lived. But even as he forced himself to focus back on the water, the ghost of that yearning remained, a faint ember in the cold depths of his soul.

  The sudden jolt nearly sent Eleanor tumbling, but Kael was already on his feet, his movements swift and practiced. The boat rocked violently as if something massive had bumped against it from below. His crimson eyes scanned the water, catching every ripple and shadow beneath the moonlit surface. To him, the night was as clear as day, his enhanced senses capturing the faintest details.

  There—circling the boat—a dark figure moved with unnerving grace, the long, writhing tentacles propelling it through the water in synchronized motion. The creature stopped just a few meters away, the surface of the sea churning as it rose. Slowly, the tentacle-covered head emerged, water streaming down its slick, bluish skin.

  The Cecaelia’s large black eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made Eleanor shiver despite herself. Even in the moonlight, the claw marks he had left on her face were visible, stark against her smooth, alien features. She snarled, a guttural sound that sent ripples across the water, her mouth bubbling as her fury became palpable.

  Kael held up his hands, palms open, his claws glinting faintly in the light. He shifted his posture, making a conscious effort to appear less threatening, though it went against every instinct he had honed over centuries of monster hunting. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, trying to project calm despite the tension thrumming in the air.

  “Enough blood has been spilled,” he said, his words deliberate and measured. “I need to know why. Why have you been attacking the islanders? What has driven you to this? Tell me, and perhaps we can find another way. A way for you to leave this place in peace.”

  The Cecaelia stared at him, her inky black eyes unblinking. The only response was the slight ripple of the water as her tentacles shifted restlessly. He waited, his heart steady, his patience long-practiced. But still, she said nothing.

  Kael’s jaw tightened, though he kept his calm demeanor. He took a step forward, his boots pressing against the wood of the boat, careful not to startle her further. “Please,” he tried again, his tone soft but firm. “I need you to speak to me. If we’re to end this without more death, you must tell me what’s caused this.”

  The Cecaelia’s lips curled, her expression an unreadable mix of rage and something else—pain, perhaps? But she did not answer. The only sound was the gentle lap of the waves and the creak of the boat as it swayed under their weight.

  Kael held his ground, his patience unwavering, though the quiet began to weigh on him. Was she unable to speak? Or unwilling? He glanced back at Eleanor, who watched with wide eyes, clutching the edge of the boat.

  Still, he didn’t move, waiting for any sign—any answer at all.

  The creature turned its haunting black eyes toward Eleanor, its gaze sending a chill down her spine. Without warning, it sank back below the surface, vanishing into the depths.

  Kael cursed under his breath, his fists clenching as he scanned the water. Eleanor, gripping the edge of the boat tightly, glanced at him with wide, uncertain eyes. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  Before he could answer, the boat lurched violently flipping over. A deafening crack sounded as something struck the hull from below, throwing both of them into the icy water.

  Kael surfaced first, gasping for air. His crimson eyes darted across the waves, searching frantically. The moonlight illuminated the frothy water, but Eleanor was nowhere to be seen.

  "Eleanor!" he shouted, his voice echoing into the night. Panic clawed at his chest as he turned in every direction. "ELEANOR!" he roared, his voice carrying both fury and desperation.

  Then he heard it—a faint cry, his name carried on the wind. Whipping around, he saw her, trembling and gasping, a clawed blue hand wrapped around her throat. Behind her loomed the Cecaelia, her face a mask of malice, her black eyes gleaming with primal rage.

  "Let her go!" Kael bellowed, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. He surged toward them, his movements powerful but measured.

  The Cecaelia hissed, a low, guttural sound that reverberated through the water. Suddenly, Kael froze as a strange sensation crept into his mind, like icy tendrils winding their way into his thoughts. He staggered slightly, disoriented.

  Then, clear as a bell, a voice rang out in his mind: **"Return what was taken."**

  Kael’s eyes narrowed, his teeth gritting against the mental intrusion. "Return what!?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

  The voice came again, insistent and unwavering: **"Return what was taken. Return to the shrine."**

  "I don’t know what was taken!" he snapped, frustration and anger boiling within him.

  The Cecaelia tilted her head slightly, her grip on Eleanor tightening. Her voice sounded again in his mind, dripping with venom: **"Harbormaster..."**

  Before Kael could respond, the creature and Eleanor vanished beneath the waves, leaving only ripples behind.

  Kael wasted no time. With a powerful kick, he dove beneath the waves, the frigid water stinging his skin as his crimson eyes cut through the murky depths. His gaze locked onto the faint shadow of the Cecaelia moving swiftly below, its tentacles propelling it forward like a nightmarish blur.

  He saw Eleanor, her face pale with terror, her eyes wide as she reached out toward him, her trembling hand a silent plea for rescue. Her mouth moved as if to cry out, but only bubbles escaped into the dark water. Kael pushed himself harder, his powerful strokes slicing through the water like a predator on the hunt.

  But the Cecaelia was too fast. Its movements were fluid and unrelenting, and the gap between them only grew. Kael snarled, the sound muffled by the water, frustration boiling in his chest. His lungs burned as he tried to keep pace, but it was no use. Eleanor’s silhouette grew smaller, swallowed by the depths.

  His muscles screamed in protest as he finally relented, forcing himself to swim back toward the surface. Breaking through the water with a gasp, he inhaled deeply, his breaths ragged and heavy. Kael’s fists clenched as he let out a guttural roar of fury that echoed across the waves, his voice carrying his helpless rage into the night.

  "Eleanor..." he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the still water as though she might somehow reappear. But there was nothing—only the haunting ripples left in their wake.