This is where you feel most at peace. In the water, where light and dark bleed into one. Where the current stretches and rolls from one day into the next—your home.

Not his.

Lo’ak was an outcast. He always had been. And you, the daughter of the chief. A loaded gun. The girl his eyes followed like the tide.

He missed home. Anyone would.

But, thanks to you, he was starting to enjoy his time here. Especially now. This small, delicate pocket of time, the one he always shared with you.

And that’s why it kills him to ruin this moment.

He sucks in a breath, the ocean sloshing over his legs. “My… uh,” he loses his train of thought as you look at him, his pointed ears twitching. “My father said I need to call back at dark.”

A pause. His eyes smolder. And then, declaratively, “But I don’t want to.”