When he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, we didn't talk. The silence between us was thick, awkward in a way that left the air jagged, full of things unsaid and hearts too bruised to say them.
I offered to let him sleep in the living room. He nodded, quick, mechanical, his eyes cast down like he was afraid to meet mine. Like we were strangers again. The regression stung more than I expected, but maybe it was for the best.
I set up the air mattress on the floor, puffing it up in quiet bursts that echoed through the still room. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, not nearly enough for someone who used to sleep in the cradle of coral reefs and underwater currents, but it was something. It was all I had to offer. He didn't complain.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The walls felt thinner. The silence between our rooms louder. Every creak of the mattress, every soft sigh from across the apartment sounded like a memory breaking. I stared at the ceiling until my mind surrendered to exhaustion.
When I finally got up the next morning and padded barefoot into the kitchen, I wasn't expecting to find him already awake.
But there he was.
Delmar stood shirtless at the fridge, the door wide open, his back to me, broad and etched in light that spilled from the window. The morning sun painted his skin golden, and for a second I forgot how to breathe. His muscles flexed as he reached inside, rummaging around like he had lived here all along.
At the dining table, K'liira sat silently, her knees pulled to her chest, her gaze flicking from object to object with childlike curiosity. Her long hair looked dry and frizzy, puffed up like a mane around her head. She looked so out of place yet oddly composed, as though her stillness made her immune to the foreignness of the world around her.
"What will she eat?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual as I stepped into the kitchen.
Delmar didn't flinch. "Do you have raw fish or meat? She's still adjusting to cooked food."
I nodded, moving toward the freezer and pulling out a tray of frozen chicken. "It's frozen. Let me defrost it..."
Before I could turn to the microwave, I felt his hand land on my shoulder.
Just a hand.
But it may as well have been fire.
My body froze. His palm burned through the cotton of my shirt, sending tiny electric pinpricks dancing up my spine. I inhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way my skin tingled beneath his touch.
"This will do," he said softly, his fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long before he gently took the tray from my hands.
He placed it under a stream of warm water, held it there for a few seconds, then served the semi-thawed meat to K'liira with quiet care. "Eat it slowly," he instructed her, his tone patient, almost parental.
When he turned to me, his expression was unreadable, but his voice, God, his voice was velvet-wrapped gravel.
"Good morning," he said, and for a moment his eyes lingered on my lips, just long enough for my breath to hitch in my throat. Then he met my gaze, and I looked away, suddenly aware of every molecule of air between us.
I cleared my throat, scratching the back of my neck, suddenly desperate to busy myself. "Morning," I muttered, my voice rougher than I intended. I busied myself with opening drawers and cabinets, pretending to search for things I already knew were there.
"What would you like?" I asked, pulling out the eggs.
"Anything," he said, watching me. "Whatever you'll have."
"Pancakes?" I offered. "Or poached eggs? Toast?"
I felt his eyes on my back, heavy, familiar. And as I placed the pan on the stove and lit the burner, I tried to focus on the sizzle of butter rather than the steady beat of my own heart thudding in my ears.
The kitchen was warm. Too warm.
"The guy you spoke to last night... do you love him?" Delmar's voice sliced through the quiet like the tip of a blade, soft, but sharp enough to still the air around us.
I stiffened, caught off guard. My hand paused mid-reach for the spatula. "No," I said, too quickly, too instinctively. The word rushed out of me like a reflex, not a decision.
Delmar didn't say anything for a moment, but I felt the silence brim with something heavy.
"You told me something about closure. What was it about?"
I swallowed, turning my attention back to the pan. The egg hissed as it hit the surface, the yolk round and perfect, the whites spreading out like spilled truth. I busied myself, reaching for the bread and slipping two slices into the toaster.
"I need something from him," I muttered.
"What?"
I didn't answer.
The hum of the kitchen filled the space between us. The low pop of the toaster heating. The hiss of eggs. My heartbeat.
And then, I felt him.
The shift in the air. The subtle brush of heat. Delmar stepped closer, so close I could feel the warmth of his chest radiating against my back, the faintest brush of his breath near my neck. When he spoke again, it was barely a whisper, yet it filled every part of me.
"I asked you something."
I closed my eyes for a beat, steadying myself. Then I turned to face him.
His gaze met mine, sea-green and unwavering.
"Information," I said, voice low but firm.
He blinked. "What kind of information?"
I let out a breath, clenched fists resting on the edge of the kitchen counter.
"He works in the same department as my father did," I said finally. "The one where everything changed after my dad filed the report. The one that dismissed his claims as delusions, then quietly started their own research. They're hiding something. I'm sure of it. I think... I think they were involved in his death."
Delmar's jaw tightened, but he stayed quiet. He was listening. Really listening.
"I joined the PhD program just to get inside. I've been watching. Digging. Gathering scraps. Patterns in their data logs. Shredded files. Odd funding discrepancies." I looked down at my hands, suddenly trembling. "Peter is one of the few with clearance. If there's something buried, he'll lead me to it."
Delmar tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning my face as if trying to read the parts of me I wasn't saying out loud. "And when you find out?" he asked, his voice softer now, tinged with a kind of reverence.
I met his gaze, my throat dry. "I'll go to the authorities. I'll file a formal investigation. If I have something concrete, if I can prove my father was murdered, I can get his case reopened."
For a moment, the kitchen stilled. The egg sizzled quietly behind me, the toaster clicked softly.
Delmar stepped back just enough to let the air return between us, but not enough to break the tether that had formed. His eyes didn't leave mine.
"You're risking everything," he said.
"I know."
Delmar was quiet for a long second. Then his brows drew together with resolve.
"You didn't need to put up with a man you don't love just to get justice for your father," he said. "I can help you. I can show them. I still have your father's device. I can show them who I am."
My chest tightened painfully. He...Delmar, who barely trusted humans, who hid from the human world...was offering himself to the very system that could destroy him.
"You don't know what you're saying," I whispered. "You'd be putting your life in their hands. Do you think they'll welcome you with open arms? No... they'll cage you. Study you. You'll become a specimen. A lab rat."
He didn't flinch.
"And if they find out about Vicky..." I paused, the name tasting like ash. "That opens a whole other door. A dangerous one."
Delmar didn't speak. But behind us, I heard K'liira let out a soft, distressed whimper...like she could feel the weight of everything in the room.
I looked at her, and then back at him. My voice dropped to a whisper.
"What if I told you there might be others? More like you. Trapped. In that same facility."
His expression froze. All the softness bled from his face as his eyes locked onto mine.
"That can't be true," he breathed.
"It is," I said. "Peter told me about strange sounds at night. Clicking noises. I didn't think much of it until Kale...the janitor...told me he saw something once. Years ago. Few months after my father was forced out."
Delmar's fists clenched by his sides. The gills on his neck fluttered open, sharp with rage. His chest rose and fell in waves, like the tides crashing against something immovable.
"I want you to take me there," he demanded, voice tight.
"It's a high-security facility. I can't just walk in there with a stranger," I said, shaking my head.
"If my people are in there... if there's even a chance they're alive..I have to try. I have to rescue them."
"You can't," I snapped, my voice rising. "Not yet. I don't have proof. And if you go in like this, unprepared, they'll catch you. They'll kill you or worse."
Delmar took a step closer, eyes wild with emotion. "Then I'll speak to your leader. I'll tell him who I am."
"Leader?" I gave a bitter laugh. "You think someone's in charge of this chaos? Our so-called leaders might be the ones running the experiments, for all I know. And if they are... they'll make sure you never walk out of that place alive."
His face collapsed in pain, the lines around his mouth drawn tight. He looked at me like I'd gutted him.
He turned slowly, walked to the dining table, and sat beside K'liira. She reached for him instinctively, her delicate fingers resting gently on his shoulder. Her eyes were full of worry, of love.
I looked away.
I should've been the one to reach for him. To soothe the tension in his shoulders. But I didn't. I couldn't.
I was the one who pushed him away. The one who kept pretending that love wasn't enough.
And now, I had no idea how to take it all back.
"What's her story?" I asked, leaning against the edge of the counter. The steam from my mug curled upward, warm against my face, but I was still cold inside. Something about her, the way she sat curled into herself, silent and vigilant, haunted me.
A long breath escaped Delmar lips before he finally spoke.
"She was taken from her nest when she was still a youngling." His voice was quiet, shaped by something that sounded dangerously close to guilt. "She was trapped in a ship for years. Tortured. Put on display like an exotic animal for people to gawk at, for money. Humans paid to see her scream. They laughed when she tried to speak."
I felt my stomach twist.
"She escaped eventually," he continued. "But by then, she was... broken. I found her bleeding near the edge of the coast, delirious with pain. I brought her to your father. We nursed her back to life, though I'm not sure she ever really came back fully."
I followed his gaze. K'liira's face was stoic, but there was a hollowness in her expression, like she had detached herself from her trauma as though she weren't there. The silence pressed into the room like fog.
"She tried going back," Delmar said, "but our society is... prejudiced. They call her tainted. Spoiled by the land. No one would take her in."
A pulse of anger stirred in my chest. "That's cruel."
He nodded. "She's about to enter her first nest season. She'll be vulnerable. Emotionally unstable. That's why I brought her with me. Even if it's a bit cruel, bringing her to the land again, I couldn't leave her behind."
I frowned. "Nest?"
He gave a small nod, brushing a hand over his jaw. "She's becoming fertile. It's her first cycle. She'll begin nesting, choosing her harem. That's how our queens mate. They form a nest of betas to protect and care for them."
I took a sip of my coffee and almost choked. "A harem? As in, multiple men?"
Delmar blinked slowly. "Males, yes. Four to five for first-time queens. Older queens...like the one I served...had up to twenty."
"Twenty?" I sputtered. "And she had sex with all of them?"
He tilted his head, his eyes unreadable. "No. Only those with the best genes. The rest were caretakers. They hunted, defended, made her birthing place safe, raised the young. Some... pleasured her, if she wished. But only one or two were chosen for mating."
My cheeks were warm. Burning, actually. I turned back toward the stove, suddenly very invested in flipping the eggs that were browning too fast.
"And you..." I murmured, forcing myself to sound casual, "you're not a beta anymore?"
Delmar's chair scraped against the floor as he stood. I felt his presence behind me before I even turned.
"No," he said, voice lower now, almost reverent. "Betas turn into alphas when they bond with a mate. My transformation began the moment I saw you. My body recognized you before I understood what it meant."
I swallowed hard. My hand trembled slightly on the spatula. I turned, and there he was, towering over me, his gaze steady, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"What's the difference between a beta and an alpha?" I asked, trying to keep my tone flat. But my voice still shook.
He stepped even closer.
"Betas are caretakers. Gentle. Submissive. They share their queen. Alphas?" His voice dropped an octave. "Alphas don't share. Ever. They're dominant. Protective. Territorial. And their sex drive... it's almost uncontrollable. Only an omega can satisfy them. Only a bond can tame them."
I didn't breathe for a full second.
The words pressed against my skin like heat. Something twisted in my stomach, 'hunger, fear, want. I didn't know which.
"I'm not an omega," I blurted, more to myself than him. "I'm just a human. A guy."
Delmar's smirk turned into something softer, something knowing.
"Omegas aren't male or female," he said gently. "They resemble human men, yes. But they're... different. They don't mate like others. They don't penetrate. They... receive. And they can bear life."
I blinked. "Fuck."
"Yeah." Delmar's grin widened.
Then the smell of burning brought me back to the present. "Shit...my eggs!"
Delmar looked genuinely alarmed. "Your eggs?"
"My eggs are burning," I said, lunging for the pan. "On the stove!"
He relaxed, chuckling softly as I scraped the overcooked mess onto a plate.
"Go, sit. I will pour you some orange juice," I muttered, red-faced, shoving the plate toward him.
He didn't touch the food right away. He stood there, watching me with that same calm intensity he always had...like I was a puzzle he was finally beginning to solve.
And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to be solved.