For the first time in her life Zyra felt self conscious.
Cyril was standing behind her, close enough for them to be almost touching.
She got this mental image of him checking her out from behind and blushed to her roots.
She never really cared what he thought of her before.
So what had changed between them now.
Cyril was handsome and a consummate flirt.
He didn't discriminate, young or old, it didn't matter. He flirted with everyone back on Fuegolian Territory.
Zyra doubted that she could take anything he had done or said before seriously.
To others he was lighthearted, jovial and approachable.
Around her he was just silent.
He had practically ignored her presence after he assisted her in the caves.
While doing weapons training back at Fuegolian she had constantly felt the heat from his gaze.
Yet when their eyes met, she would be the one to always quickly look away.
She loved to watch him fight with his rapier.
His movements were so quick and his footwork light, he always had his opponents on the defense.
Only Rolf seemed to be able to hold his own against him for a few minutes.
But even he too would tire, not being able to fend off Cyril's attacks forever.
Only when they were on the warship did they actually start having decent conversations.
Where she pretended to be disgruntled because she had to stay back and prepare his dinner because he always ate late.
But secretly she enjoyed their private conversations where they talked about everything under the sun except the wolfbeasts.
Where did they come from and why choose earth.
He refused to talk about his past and never discussed the future.
She tried every trick in the book to try and get him to slip up and say something useful.
But he always grinned and steered the conversation away from what she wanted to find out.
He was really at home on his warship and she loved watching him in control as captain, steering the wheel, studying the maps for navigation.
Lord Carnelian was a natural born leader.
It was obvious that he was used to being in charge and the men felt comfortable following his directions.
Not once was there any bickering or mutiny.
Cyril always knew what to say to nip an argument in the bud.
She wanted to run to Nyla and Verity's side but Cyril clearly had other plans for her.
"Zyra, you need to stay here by my side."
He was adamant.
"I need to go and help my friends."
She knew she was being defiant but her friends mattered to her more than herself.
"Leon is with them and they seem to be doing alright for themselves."
"Now Cyril," she said with a hint of warning in her voice.
For she hated when Rolf used to order her around and now Cyril was doing the very same thing.
She thought they were past that and were getting close now but clearly she was wrong.
He had no reason to be so overprotective of her.
She had never asked him about his family.
Did he have a younger sister that she reminded him of?
Zyra just didn't know the answers to the question and in the heat of the battle with Kanakika it wasn't the appropriate time to ask.
"What now, Zyra," he answered.
"Nothing."
He hissed.
Clearly she had ticked him off and she couldn't care less.
She was seriously considering fighting him but she knew she couldn't win against him but boy was she tempted to try.
"Zyra, to be on the safe side, let me and my men clear away more of the tentacles so you can get to your friends. Just to be on the safe side, I need to know that you are alright and within eyesight at all times."
"Why?"
"Now is not the time, I will explain everything later."
"Promise?"
"Yes." He swore.
Then he turned to slash away at a few more tentacles. It was never ending and everyone was getting worn out. She was not sure how much longer they could all last with the pressure that Kanakika had them under.
It was like somehow the sea creature knew they were on their last leg.
Kanakika seemed amped to double its attack with more strength and ferocity.
So much for it backing down and allowing them to cross.
It clearly had not expected them to put up such a fight and be easy pickings.
So many lives had been lost and it seems it was out for more blood and would not be pacified in the least.
Despair swelled amongst the crew as they watched their fallen comrades drop one by one.
Cyril had his hands full watching her and at the same time shouting orders to his men.
Lord Carnelian made attempts to boost the flagging spirit of his crew.
To inspire them to keep fighting for dear life but it was all for naught.
At first it was faint but the voice became louder the closer it got.
The voice was beautiful, melodic and hypnotic.
It was so loud you couldn't ignore it. She had never believed the kraken existed until now.
Yet she couldn't wrap her brain around this siren's call.
A unique and distinctive sound that makes you stop what you're doing and take notice.
All of the warship's crew put down their weapons.
The kraken followed suit and gently put down the shipmates it held and withdrew from the ship with a resounding splash.
Unbelievable.
Had she not seen it with her own two eyes. She wouldn't have believed it.
"Move as they do." Cyril whispered.
It was like everyone else was in a trance and only her and Cyril remained unaffected, but why?
Zyra willed her body to do as Lord Carnelian had commanded.
She felt like a fraud trying to match her facial expression to the dopey one of those that heeded the siren's call.
"Zyra please act like they do," he reiterated.
The sound of his voice woke her from her private musings.
She froze like a statue and tried to copy that glazed look the others were wearing but felt like she was failing miserably at it.
How do you copy a mask of feelings that you have never worn?
As if she was in a world her own making; only knew peace, never faced any misery or suffering.
The siren's voice drew closer, its soundwaves reverberated through the air.
Zyra couldn't fathom what she was seeing; a vessel unlike any other, the like she had seen before on earth whether in books or in real life.
It was massive and spotless, it gleamed in pure white and glistened in the darkness like a beacon on a stormy night.
It was definitely made with alien technology now that she could see it close up.
The mouth of the vessel opened and it spat out its metallic tongue like a ladder at them.
Zyra was confused about what was happening all around her.
Were these interlopers friends or foe?
She waited to see if they would board the warship next for what felt like an eternity but it was only around ten minutes.
Prolonged suspenseful waiting felt like torture when nothing happened.
Then it was like the others onboard the warship got some sort of unknown command that only they alone could hear.
For immediately the warship's crew started forming a line, no shoving, no fighting, just calmly obeying unspoken orders.
She followed Cyril's lead and joined the line behind him; she would be the last person boarding the strange ship.
Zyra was a mixture of excited and hesitant because of the unknown danger of the entity involved.
Doing her best to keep her face calm and neutral as they gradually filed onto the vessel.
After she took her last step, the bridge from the Aguatian ship started to withdraw from the warship.
It was only a matter of time before it fully closed, sealing her into her impending fate.
Then she heard a loud explosion from behind.
Cyril's warship was on fire with no one to put out the flames; its remains would be claimed by the sea.
Just what in the world were the Aguatians thinking and how would they get home?
Cyril stopped dead in his tracks with his hands fisted at his side, the rage emitting from his body had been smoldering for some time.
The ship was the last straw, like a ticking time bomb he could go off at any second.
She deliberately bumped into him from behind to nudge him to his senses.
It worked and he seemingly calmed down and started moving along with the others.
The doors of the ship that had initially reminded her of a mouth finally closed behind her.
There were twenty eight empty boxes laid out neatly in rows ahead of her.
The exact number of survivors that boarded the ship.
It made her think that the Aguatians had been spying on them somehow.
From a crew that was once forty seven only twenty eight was left and the significance of it astounded her.
Out of the eight of them assigned to Lord Carnelian by Rolf only four of them had survived.
Herself, Leon, Nyla and Verity.
The others had all perished fighting with Kanakika for their lives.
She knew others might find her heartless for thinking she didn't know the ones that died well enough to grieve for them.
But she would continue to press on and not give up.
As long as she had life she would fight to be reunited with Kayle someday.