than heard the splash as Ian hit the water beside the ship, rocking it gently.
Exiting the room via the sliding door, I made my way to the railing and leaned over to scan the dark sea. The lights on the boat illuminated it somewhat, and the moon overhead proved full and bright, wrapping everything in a wraithlike glow. But I didn’t see Ian. Would he as the kraken even recognize me? He seemed to before.
“What should I do? Show me something useful.” The seeing remained quiet as I gripped the rail, my hair floating in a light sea breeze.
“Ian?” Calling him had worked last time. But there was a lot more noise tonight. The shifters filled the air with their primal moon song.
“Ian.” A knot of anxiety formed inside me that only increased the harder I tried to see. Why, oh why did my power fail to trigger with him? I couldn’t see what would happen. Didn’t know what to do.
What if I made the wrong choice? I knew how many paths an action could take.
Yet I had to act. Blind to the possibilities, I’d have to swallow my uncertainty and do something. I didn’t like it one bit.
The cloud cover had cleared this afternoon, the sun peeking out around the dinner hour. The sky remained clear as the moon rose.
The orb was in fine form tonight, full and bright, driving the shapeshifters aboard a little furry. I could hear the howls and roars of those celebrating.
I could also see a lot of babies coming in nine to ten months. Including a future princess for a lion pride.
But I didn’t see myself or Ian. Would we even be together this time next year? It didn’t seem likely, and that made me sad. My lips turned down, and I uttered a heavy sigh. “Fuck me.”
From the gently tossing seas, a tentacle rose high enough that it crooked the end in front of me. Questioning?
“There you are. Are you okay?” Probably a dumb thing to ask aloud, as if it could answer. And yet I recalled that strange sense of understanding him that morning. Would it happen again?
The tip of it waggled left and right.
“Yes and no.” A teasing smile pulled my lips. “Guess turning into a kraken just when we were about to have sex would be kind of tough on a guy.”
The appendage flopped as if dead, and I outright laughed.
“Oh, the drama. At least you waited until I was done.” I winked as I teased, and I could have sworn the ocean rumbled in discontent.
I leaned on the railing with my forearms, and the tentacle wrapped around the section beside me, a strange companion.
“It’s a beautiful night.” Look at me making the most inane conversation, and with someone who couldn’t reply back.
The tip nodded.
“Does the change always hurt like that?”
Another bob.
I blew out a breath. “Fuck, that sucks.”
I swear, he shrugged.
“You said this happened to your dad and grandad. Does it happen to the girls, too?”
No.
And, somehow, I understood that it wasn’t that the curse skipped the women but rather that none had been born.
“Anyone even know what happened to cause a curse like that?”
Even before I asked, I could suddenly see it, my ability choosing to show me a rare instance of the past. I gave him the nutshell version of what I saw. “The vendetta happened much as you’d expect. Human boy from your family fell in love with a seeress from mine. The girl saw his daddy doing something bad, which led to her getting killed. My ancestor, the girl’s mother, then lost her shit and, being part sea witch, cursed the boy’s family, making all the males turn into monsters.”
Wiggle question.
“Why thirty-two?” I shrugged. “Maybe the father’s age? Back then, people had their kids a lot younger. What I find appalling is how long this curse has lasted. I’m sorry I ignored the letter from your uncle.” I dangled my head at the admission and prepared to get dragged to a watery death.
Instead, the sea sighed.
“I know it’s not my fault. Nor is it yours. You’re a victim here, and I wish I knew what I could do to help.”
He went to slink away, and I grabbed him, my hand squeezing. “Don’t leave.”
The flesh in my grip didn’t move. Nor did it relax. I ran my fingers over the tentacle, feeling the slickness of the skin, drying in the gentle breeze as the ship chugged along.
“You’re not as scary as expected.”
The tip jiggled, and my