We were ready to leave just as the morning tide began to rise.
"Let's say goodbye to K'liira before we leave," Delmar said, and I nodded. We walked along the cliff to find the villagers had gathered quietly along the rocky outcrop.
"What are they doing?" I asked, frowning.
"They are here to see us off," Delmar informed.
"Oh," I said, not expecting them to be kind to us after they had asked us to leave.
"They wouldn't have asked us to leave if it wasn't their existence in question," Delmar said, as if sensing my thoughts.
"You are right."
We knocked on K'liira's door before entering, to find K'liira's betas sleeping in her bed, tangled with her, all naked. K'liira's skin was still painted with pearl-like patterns from the night before's celebration. It never failed to amaze me how unique this culture's dynamic was.
Sensing us, K'liira sat up, a frown on her face.
She said something in their native language, and Delmar answered in human words.
"Yes, we are leaving. We wanted to say goodbye."
She stood up in one fluid motion and walked up to us. Her betas woke up too, looking at her curiously but didn't follow her, as if they sensed she needed space.
"So soon?" she asked, her head tilting in question, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"We have to. We can't stay here, it is not safe for the villagers," Delmar said.
She didn't speak for a few seconds.
Instead, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Delmar, her small frame trembling against him.
A soft, broken sound escaped her throat, more breath than cry but full of meaning.
Delmar hugged her back fiercely. "You'll be alright," he murmured before speaking the rest in clicks. His words made her sob harder.
I didn't realize I was crying until tears fell down my cheeks.
She stepped back and faced me next, her large eyes glistening. "You will take care of him," she said in her heavily accented English.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'll try." Because at this point I wasn't sure of anything. But as long as I was with Delmar, things felt right and less overwhelming.
She looked between us. "You... lucky... you have each other. Take care."
I nodded, and Delmar caressed her face before kissing her on the forehead. Then he took my hand and walked toward the ocean.
The villagers watched us go, their expressions unreadable. Some looked wary, others curious. Only a few offered small nods of farewell. One of the beta men came forward with a pouch and handed it to Delmar and smiled at him before taking the bag.
"They have given us clothes and some food for the journey," Delmar informed.
We removed the robes we were wearing and jumped into the water.
Swimming beside Delmar at Faringue speed was like flying beneath the surface of a living, breathing world. We moved fast, faster than anything I'd ever experienced yet it didn't feel frantic. It was fluid. Graceful. Almost like we belonged here.
The water parted for us like silk, shimmering currents gliding over our skin. My body had adjusted to the rhythm now, lungs trained to hold longer, limbs moving with purpose, no longer fighting the drag of the sea but flowing with it. I didn't even have to think. I just swam.
We barely paused, cutting through wave after wave like silver knives. Below us, the ocean shimmered with life: kaleidoscopic schools of fish darted away like synchronized dancers, and delicate strands of seaweed waved from the ocean floor like fingers of forgotten gods. The world above us sun, sky, cloud was a pale blur. But down here? It was ancient. Vast. Secretive.
After what felt like an eternity, the ache set in, first in my shoulders, then down my spine, until every stroke felt like dragging my bones through molasses. Delmar sensed it before I said anything. He slowed and looped his arm around my waist, gently pulling me up toward the surface.
We broke through the waves, gasping the humid air.
"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes sharp with concern.
I nodded, though I was still catching my breath.
"Don't push yourself. If you're tired, say it. This isn't a test of endurance, Kash." His voice was firm but kind. "We're traveling twice the distance we did last time and we don't have adrenaline or desperation fueling us now. Just tell me when you need to rest. The next island isn't far. A few more hours, and we'll pause properly."
"Okay," I murmured, touched by how easily he took control of the situation, how sure he always seemed. Any other man would've cracked by now. We didn't have a plan. We didn't know if his home settlement would accept us. We didn't even know what we'd do if they didn't. And yet... Delmar looked ahead with the calm of someone who believed in the horizon. It gave me peace maybe a false sense of security, but peace nonetheless.
After I'd rested, we dove again.
The next stretch blurred together in long, quiet strokes and rhythmic breathing. Then suddenly, Delmar's hand caught my wrist and brought us to a halt.
"You hear that?" he asked, his head tilting, ears perked like sonar.
I strained my ears. At first, nothing. But then I caught it a low, mechanical hum, distant but growing.
"It's a fishing ship," he said, glancing down. His gaze sharpened, scanning the shadows beneath us. Then, without warning, he seized my hand again. "We need to go under. Now."
Before I could ask, he was already pulling me downward, fast. We sank like pebbles, descending far deeper than I'd ever thought my body could handle. No human would survive this depth without gear, and yet I did. Somehow.
Everything changed the deeper we went. Colors bled away. Vision turned to shapes and silhouettes. And yet I could see. Not the way I saw on land, but a different kind of clarity. I spotted a massive fishing net above, like a skeletal mouth dragging half the sea into its gut. Schools of terrified fish thrashed inside, caught mid-escape. And above them, the ghostly shape of a trawler loomed, large, indifferent, hungry.
I stared, numb. The sheer scale of it all made my stomach churn.
How is this sustainable? I thought to myself. If this was only one ship... how many others haunted this stretch of ocean?
Delmar didn't seem suprised. He tugged me westward, keeping low, beneath the trawler's shadow.
We swam for what felt like hours, cautious and silent.
Then, like a miracle, I saw it.
An island.
Small. Wild. Untouched.
Delmar slowed and pointed. "We'll rest here."
The island was small but had enough fauna for a cover.
We made camp under a slanted cluster of palms. I pulled out the robes made from special Faringue fabric from the bag the villagers had given us. We put on the clothes and sat down on a cleared area. We used bamboo husks as plates to eat the special pudding the villagers had packed for us, wrapped in kept.
"This might not be enough," Delmar said, taking a bite of the thing. "I will catch something after we finish this, then we will cook it the human way. On fire."
I smiled.
"Would you teach me how to catch fish?" I asked.
"It's not that hard when you are a Faringue."
"Even breathing is natural for Faringues, yet it takes me by surprise every time I do it."
"Fair enough. I will teach you. Eat that first," he said, pointing to the pudding.
The sun almost setting, casting fractured gold onto the waves as we waded waist-deep into the water. The island behind us was still and quiet, the palms rustling gently like the hush of breath between heartbeats. Delmar turned to me, his wet hair slicked back, skin gleaming, and offered his hand. He taught me a trick to keep our legs intact even after we touch water. Just concenntrate on walking and the thin membrane connecting our legs won't appear. It was fascinating how my own biology worked.
"Ready to learn?" he asked, eyes glinting with mischief.
I nodded and took his hand. The moment his fingers wrapped around mine, a quiet thrill ran down my spine.
"Follow my rhythm," he murmured, and I did.
He guided us deeper, step by step, until the sea lifted us gently, cradling us in its cool embrace. I watched as his legs merged to become fins and at the moment mine did too.
The world below swallowed us in blue, muffled and dreamlike. Delmar stayed close, guiding me with soft touches at my hip, my shoulder. And the cold water somehow enhancing the touch, making it feel like tiny shocks. Small fish darted away as we moved through coral shadows and swaying green fronds.
He pointed at a silvery blur and raised a finger to his lips then chased after it with grace that made my breath catch. I tried to follow, but I was slow, clumsy in comparison.
When I was left behind, the current swirling around my legs, he paused not impatient, only watchful then drifted up behind me. His hands skimmed along my waist, the brief touch grounding me in the gentle press of sea and skin, steadying me with wordless assurance. "Relax," he mouthed, lips barely moving, breath dancing against my ear. His chest pressed to my back, solid and warm even in the cool water, and his fins lapped gently against mine in an intimate, silent rhythm. The sensation flooded me, a tide of safety, desire, familiarity and I let myself melt into his guidance, trusting him completely.
His hands curled around my chest, strong fingers guiding me, pressing against my ribs to urge me into the right posture. Every inch of him radiated strength, calm, and that wild, magnetic intimacy, a presence I wanted to memorize. "Use," he mouthed again, punctuating the word with a gentle press against my stomach, his hands lowering deliberately to skim over my slit, lingering just long enough to spark heat, then retreating with quiet reluctance.
I caught his gaze, searching for the hunger I hoped to see, but instead found deep concentration etched onto his features attention tight and direct. He pointed ahead, directing my eyes to the shimmer at a distance. "Fish," he mouthed. I looked, heart pounding anew, and spotted it: a big silver thing, pure muscle and light, cutting through the water with effortless grace.
I readied myself, doing my best to keep posture and focus, and dove toward the target. This time my movements felt smoother, my body attuned to the water's pulse, the sea's endless invitation. But the fish was a streak of brilliance, shifting in an instant, darting away with a flick that left nothing but turbulence behind. I chased it, stretching, lunging, my palms grazing its scales only to have them slip away. Every lunge grew heavier, exhaustion creeping in, a slow ache, a burn in my muscles. Just as surrender threatened, Delmar darted behind me, unfurling beside me with that fluid, predatory grace I craved. In a single motion, he caught the fish, a four-foot bolt of silver energy and held it, muscles bunching, not straining. It thrashed, wild and beautiful, but Delmar remained effortless, a quiet strength shining through. He surfaced with a smug smile; in that instant, he was pure power untamed, magnetic, all mine.
"You did good—" he started, but I didn't let him finish. I collided into him, lips crashing, salt and adrenaline and heat all tangled in the kiss. The fish slipped away in a flurry, and his arms closed around me, anchoring me to him.
"God, you are sexy," I breathed against his mouth, every word trembling with admiration, triumph, and the ache of wanting.
"Make love to me the human way," I demanded into the kiss.
He pulled back, his eyes searching mine.
"It's possible right?" I asked, breathing laboured.
"I think so. I have never done it."
My chest fluttered. "I will teach you," I said with a sly smile.
***
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