The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe-Chapter 310: Meeting Thalor by the well at night

The night was long, and the moon had risen high into the night sky. I opened my eyes, feeling parched, and used my eyes to search for water, but it looked like the last of it had been spilled over my body before we fell asleep.

I need to find water. I slipped out quietly, not waking either of them, and they seemed to be very exhausted, given they didn’t even notice me leaving the tent.

The cool night air hit my skin like a splash of mountain water, a sharp contrast to the sweltering, musky heat I’d left behind in the tent.

My body felt heavy, every muscle humming with the lingering ache of the ’punishment’ Noah, Fenric, and Damar had dealt out.

As I walked past the dying embers of the fire, I stopped. The pile of furs we’d given Thalor was empty. The leather skirt and the fur wrap were gone, leaving only an indentation in the bedding.

"Thalor?" I whispered, my voice raspy.

But there was no answer. It was quiet all around. Every beast had retired for the night.

Had he gone back to the sea? Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable sleeping on dry land and wanted to breathe in the seawater.

I can’t blame him. It was already pretty harsh for us to make him sleep outside and listen to all that all night.

My face burned again. I don’t know how I’m going to face him, but I guess I can leave that for later.

My ears suddenly perked up, and my gaze turned toward the village square. What was that just now? It was as if I heard my name, but without actually hearing my name. Strange.

Then, my left wrist gave a soft, rhythmic pulse—not the icy sting from earlier, but a gentle, magnetic pull that drew me toward the well. It was as if the Crest was acting like a compass, guiding me. I didn’t think much of it and just assumed it was because it was resonating with the source of water.

It was the direction of the well.

Well, I was going to go that far anyway. There is no way I can sleep with this thirst.

Usually, I would wake one of them to go with me, but as if possessed, I found it unnecessary and went on my own.

As I rounded the corner of the Sheep Tribe’s main dwelling, I finally saw him.

Thalor.

He was standing at the edge of the stone well, his silhouette tall and silvered by the full moon. He had discarded the fur wrap; it lay forgotten on the dirt, leaving his bare back exposed to the night. The muscles of his tanned shoulders rippled with every slow, deliberate breath, as if he were pulling the moonlight directly into his lungs.

He wasn’t moving, but the air around him was vibrating with a low-frequency hum that resonated deep in my chest.

He looked like a masterpiece carved from sea-glass and starlight.

Under the unfiltered glow of the moon, his ethereal features seemed to catch and refract the light—the high, sharp line of his cheekbones, the straight bridge of his nose, and the gentle flow of his translucent purple hair.

My heart, which had been heavy with the lingering heat of Noah and Fenric, gave a traitorous, frantic skip.

Looking at him felt dangerous. It felt like standing on the edge of a jagged cliff, knowing the fall would be beautiful even as it shattered me.

It was a sin in the making, a temptation that tasted of salt and forbidden depths, and I couldn’t look away.

I should have called out. I should have turned back to the safety of the tent. But I was enthralled. The soundless song was like a siren’s call, pulling at the ’anchor’ inside me.

"Thalor," I breathed, finally finding my voice as I stepped into the moonlight.

Thalor didn’t startle, as if he had been expecting me. He slowly turned his head, his violet eyes glowing with an intensity that made the moon look dim.

"Arinya," he called, his voice soft and melodic. "Did the heat of the land not keep you asleep?"

I felt a flush creep up my neck, remembering exactly why I was so thirsty. I walked closer, my eyes fixed on the way the blue light of my Crest was reflecting in his gaze.

"I was thirsty," I said, stopping a few feet away. "And you weren’t by the fire. What are you doing out here, Thalor? It’s the middle of the night."

"I could not fall asleep," he said without turning, his voice a melodic low tide. "I have never slept on land before. The air is too still, so I came to listen to the water."

"Why didn’t you just go back to the sea?" I asked, my voice a raspy thread. "The water there is much louder than a well."

"I would be too far from you," he murmured, finally turning to face me. "And I did not want that."

I rubbed my left wrist, the pulse there quickening.

"Is the crest not stable yet? Is that why you stayed despite the discomfort?"

Instead of answering immediately, Thalor reached out. His movements were no longer awkward; he moved with the grace of the sea, slowly and fluidly. He took my hand, his skin ice-cold against the lingering heat of my husbands that still lived in my pores.

"Yes, it is stable," he said softly. "And you must have felt it." He raised his gaze, locking his violet eyes with mine. "The moment your eyes met mine through the tent."

My breath hitched. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I instinctively snatched my hand back.

So, I hadn’t imagined it. That look wasn’t just a trick of the moonlight. And the feeling I got from it, that desire and possessiveness... they were all real?

I felt this would blow up to something I didn’t want to handle, so I quickly carried on with the topic.

"If it’s stable," I started, trying to regain my composure, "...and you’re so uncomfortable on land... Why stay? You could go back to the sea right now if you want."

But he slowly shook his head.

"I do not want to be apart from you, Arinya," he said, stepping into my personal space. The scent of salt and ozone drowned out the musk of the tent. "Will you not give me a chance to stand by your side?"