Chapter 4

You huddled in the corner, watching them.

The ashen creature was stronger than you had expected.

Its way of moving was bizarre—it was too fast, like a flickering shadow. Every time Kaelen lunged, it would reappear from an entirely different direction.

Its grayish-black tentacles were lined with barbs, lashing across his body.

You saw his arm sliced open, and blue blood began to spill out.

His movements slowed.

Those tentacles coiled around him, only to be torn apart. Then they coiled again, and were torn again.

He stood between you and that thing, never retreating a single step.

But it was too fast.

Far too fast.

Suddenly, it swerved around his side and lunged toward his back—the very direction where you were hiding.

With speed not on his side, Kaelen could only spin around to block it.

The barbed, grayish-black tentacle pierced through his shoulder.

Blue blood erupted, staining the seawater before your eyes.

He dropped to one knee, yet he remained a shield before you.

You could see his own tentacles brewing, growing with a frantic madness.

He looked back at you.

There was no fear in those golden slit pupils.

Leave this place.

The voice echoed in your brain.

He didn't want you to get hurt.

But looking at his blood, a spark of anger flared within you—

You grabbed a sharp fragment of a shell and charged out.

The ashen creature hadn't expected you to move.

It was fixated on him and didn't notice you at all.

You slammed the shell fragment deep into the back of its neck.

It let out a horrific shriek, its tentacles thrashing wildly.

A barbed, grayish-black tentacle lashed across you, hurling you back until you slammed into the stone wall.

Pain.

It hurt like hell.

You looked down and saw a long gash on your arm; bright red blood drifted into the seawater, mixing with the blue.

Then, you heard a dull, heavy thud.

It wasn't a roar, nor was it a scream.

It was a sound suppressed to the extreme, squeezed from the depths of a throat.

Spectral blue light exploded, making the entire ruin tremble.

You saw his tentacles surge like a madness, coiling around the ashen creature, tearing it, crushing it—truly obliterating it into pieces that drifted away until nothing remained.

Then he came to you and pulled you into his arms.

So tight.

So tight you could barely breathe.

The tentacles swarmed over you.

The moment they touched your wound, you gasped in pain.

It hurt.

The tentacles wrapped around your arm, your waist, and every single scratch on your body.

You wanted to say something, but before you could—

The tentacles began to move.

They pressed against your wounds, gently, one by one—

Gnawing.

You looked down at them. You hadn't noticed before, but they were thicker than your arm. The suckers, as large as your palm, opened up. Yet when they landed on your skin, they felt almost weightless.

An incredibly light gnawing, like the teeth of a small animal, meticulously nibbling at the edges of your wound. At first it was painful, but quickly, the sensation changed.

It became a tingling numbness.

It spread from the wound, following your bloodstream through your entire body.

You watched the tentacles as they covered your arm, the ghostly blue light pulsing. With every flash, the flesh of your wound grew back a little, and new skin began to form.

They were healing you.

But the method—

It was too strange.

the gnawing became lighter and slower, turning into a phantom-like suction, like kisses, like countless tiny mouths softly pressing against your skin.

Your breathing grew erratic.

"Stop..." you whispered, your voice sounding foreign even to yourself.

He didn't look up.

And the tentacles didn't stop.

They entwined your arm, your waist, and your bruised back. On every wound, a tentacle was draped, gnawing softly and meticulously.

You felt your body going limp.

Those tentacles were too hot—usually they were warm, but now they were terrifyingly scorched. That heat seeped into the wounds, mixing with the numbness, making it impossible to tell if it was pain or something else.

You grabbed his arm.

"Enough... that’s enough..."

He didn't speak.

But he leaned down, his lips pressing against the shallow cut on your temple.

His tongue was cool, unlike the tentacles. But it licked just as gently, gnawed just as meticulously, and—

Made your knees weak.

You hung off him, your breath coming in short gasps.

The tentacles continued their work; every wound, every inch of broken skin was tended to with obsessive care. You felt as though you were being kissed by a thousand mouths, from your arms to your shoulders, from your back to your waist—

You didn't know how red your face had become.

All you knew was that when he finally stopped, you were completely limp in his arms, even your fingertips trembling.

the wounds were healed.

The new skin was as smooth as before.

But your body was covered in his marks—

The shallow red hickeys from the gnawing, the faint imprints from the suction, dense and numerous, like stamps he had used to claim you.

He looked down at you.

In those golden slit pupils, light was shimmering.

He reached out, his fingertip gently touching the now-invisible wound on your face.

The tentacles wrapped around your waist, tightening slightly, pressing you against his chest.

He didn't speak.

But you could feel it—

He wasn't angry.

He was terrified of what could have happened.

Scared that you had charged out.

Scared that you were hurt.

Scared that you would die.

After all, compared to him, a human life was far too fragile.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm okay," you said.

He stiffened for a moment.

Then he held you even tighter.

The tentacles coiled around you both, layer by layer, wrapping you together into a cocoon.

Inside that cocoon, you listened to his silent heartbeat.

His back was still wounded, blue blood still slowly seeping out, but he didn't seem to care at all.

He just held you.

The tentacles continued to rub against your skin gently, as if confirming you were still alive, as if repeatedly marking you as his.

You didn't push them away.

Because you suddenly realized—

When those tentacles were gnawing on you just now, for a fleeting moment, it actually felt quite good.