Page 21 of Don’t Hook the Merman

For that matter, Syrus should find out as soon as possible exactly who was entrusted with little Colby during the mornings. For all he knew, Luke had unknowingly assigned some soul-sucking ghoul with the task.

“He’s still young.” There was that flush to Luke’s cheeks again, like he was embarrassed by his own softheartedness. “I don’t want him gone the whole day.”

Colby tugged gently on Syrus’s hair as he looked toward Luke. “Coh-by nap?”

“Yeah, buddy.”

Colby obediently released his hold and toddled back toward his father. Syrus watched as the pair went upstairs, keeping his eye on them until they were out of sight. Then he turned his attention to his feet, frowning down at them.

His movements were too restricted to bear at the moment. How long would it take him to heal? Was it only a matter of the drugs he’d been given leaving his system? Surely that had happened already. Or was it food and rest that he needed? For that matter, human essence had its own beneficial properties.

Syrus’s thoughts went hazy for a moment, thinking of other types of human essence he could try. But no. Blood was strongest, and he needed to recover. If Luke was still willing, Syrus would work with what he already had. Syrus’s other urges would simply have to wait.

Luke returned sometime later with a plate in one hand and a small video monitor in the other. Presumably the monitor was keeping track of the sleeping Colby, although the only sounds were that of artificial ocean waves.

Luke presented the plate to Syrus. There was a pale white fish on top, cold and raw. “Tilapia,” Luke explained. “I got a big bag. And a few other types, for variety. You think this is okay for⁠—?”

Syrus took the offering and ate it quickly, even impeded as he was by his blunter human teeth. Luke removed the plate from his hands when he was done and set it aside. He didn’t look nearly as distressed watching Syrus eat this time around. Maybe it was the sharp teeth he’d minded the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said awkwardly. “I guess I should have fed you earlier.”

“You’ve had a lot to adjust to.” And Syrus had gotten used to a certain amount of hunger. He toed the empty spot of couch near his feet. “Sit. You’re exhausted. You should have your own nap.”

Luke shook his head, but he didn’t refuse Syrus’s offer of a seat. He seemed less wary of Syrus in his human form, which was perhaps understandable, if a little foolish. “Can’t nap. There’s too much to do, still.”

And a ferocious beast in the house he still didn’t quite trust, hm?

But this ferocious beast had many talents. As Luke sat and stared down at his hands, obviously too tired to attempt any of his tasks, Syrus began humming softly, a quiet, melodic tune.

It wasn’t long before Luke began blinking rapidly. His head nodded down, then jerked back up. “That’s nice,” he murmured sleepily. “Pretty.”

Syrus continued humming. Luke’s blinking stopped as his eyes fell closed and remained that way. His head lolled to the side and didn’t move from its position. His breathing slowed and evened.

Still humming, Syrus carefully swung himself to seated, then pulled Luke down until he was reclining on the couch in Syrus’s stead, his legs dangling to the floor. Syrus swept the folded blanket on the back of the couch down over his sleeping form. Humans liked to be covered, after all.

And just like that, the men of the house were asleep, with their ferocious creature watching over them.

Syrus contented himself with staring for a bit as he finished out his song. He’d already been immensely pleased by Luke’s pretty eyes and warm voice, but one did have to admire the features that had been revealed by his grooming. The defined jawline, almost delicate in its sharpness. The softness of his pink lips. No wonder he’d been selected as a breeding partner.

Still, Syrus didn’t quite understand the strength of this pull, this fierce drive to stay and protect. But perhaps he’d put more into his original song than he’d intended. Syrus had been wounded and desperate and…sad. Mournful, even. Without his pod, at the mercy of an ocean that had turned cruel. He’d needed someone like he’d never needed anyone before.

Perhaps he’d made his song more specific than he’d realized.

And it was Luke who’d answered his call.

Luke let out a soft breath and shifted, his head scooting ever so slightly until it brushed against Syrus’s silk-clad thigh. Trusting in Syrus, even in his unconscious state.

Syrus ended his tune and folded his hands over his stomach. He resisted the urge to touch and pet. For now, he let Luke be and stared at the patterns on the ceiling, a small smile playing at his lips.

Weeks of pain and confusion and sorrow. But here, at the end of it, was something bright. Something good.

Yes, fate had really come around in his favor, hadn’t it?

8

LUKE

“Luke.”