You thought nothing could touch the world you shared.
Not after the kiss beneath the moon.
Not after the night you became part of the ocean and each other.
But peace, you would learn, is not stillness.
It moves—like tides. Like hearts.
Like secrets finally rising to the surface.
⸻
It started with a change in the current.
You were lying beside Lumian in the hidden cove—his fingers tracing lazy shapes on your shoulder, your body tucked against his like it was made to fit there. The sea was calm, stars scattered like glowing petals in the sky.
But then the waves shifted—suddenly and strangely.
Lumian sat up too quickly, eyes locked on the water. His body went rigid.
You followed his gaze. "What is it?"
He didn't answer at first. Just stared. The soft glow in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something darker—concern, maybe even fear.
"They've noticed," he murmured.
"Who?"
He turned to you, jaw tight. "The ones I left behind."
Your breath caught. "You said you drifted… You never said you were running."
"I wasn't running." He stood, pacing the rocky shore. "I was escaping."
You stood too. "From what?"
His eyes met yours, blue like the ocean before a storm.
"From being claimed."
Silence stretched between you, heavy with weight neither of you knew how to carry yet.
"There are beings in the deep," he said. "Ancient. Bound to the ocean the way I was meant to be. But I've always resisted. I wanted freedom. I didn't want to belong to them." He paused. "I wanted to belong to you."
Your chest ached. "Then what happens now?"
He reached for you. "We still have time. But the current—it's calling me back. They know I'm not alone anymore. And they'll try to use that."
"Use me?"
His silence was answer enough.
⸻
That night, the sea didn't sing.
It warned.
You and Lumian returned to the surface world, walking hand in hand along the darkened shore. But something followed you—something deep, something unseen.
That was the first night the dreams started.
Dreams of voices underwater, whispering your name like a lullaby and a threat. Dreams of Lumian slipping beneath the waves, eyes fading to black. Dreams of the tide rising faster than it should.
Lumian held you through them all, waking you with his lips and steady hands. But the fear stayed.
"We'll face them," he said. "Together."
But you weren't so sure anymore. Not because you didn't trust him—but because you were beginning to hear it too.
The call.
It echoed in your blood now, in your heartbeat when you stood too close to the ocean. Like the sea had marked you—because you had touched him. Loved him. Kissed him in a place where the rules of the world no longer applied.
⸻
Then came the night the water rose without wind.
You were alone on the shore, Lumian off searching for answers in a place he wouldn't name. The moon was high, but the stars blinked out one by one like candles snuffed by invisible hands.
The sea turned black.
You stepped back, heart racing.
Something emerged from the water.
Not a creature—but a figure. Pale. Slender. Eyes like pearls cracked open too long. Hair like kelp.
It didn't speak aloud—but you heard it.
"You have taken what is ours."
You tried to step away, but your feet were rooted to the sand.
"Return him. Or drown with him."
Then it vanished—swept away by a wave that shouldn't have existed. The tide pulled hard at your legs, and you nearly fell—
But strong arms caught you.
Lumian.
His face was wild with fear. Not for himself—for you.
"They found you," he whispered.
"I think…" Your voice shook. "I think they want me now too."
His eyes darkened. "Then they've made a mistake."
He took your face in his hands, like he could protect you just by holding on harder.
"I chose you. I don't care what ancient binds still tug at me. I will not let them take you."
You gripped his wrists. "Then what do we do?"
"We go deeper," he said. "We end it. I face them."
"No," you said. "We face them."
⸻
And that's where the next journey begins.
Not just into the water—but into the Deep.
Where truths are shaped like monsters, and love must be stronger than legacy.
Where you and Lumian will learn whether love can survive the weight of what he was… and what you're both becoming.