ISOLDE
Isolde's initial shock and confusion at the stranger's claim that she somehow caused the tidal wave turned into irritation. She stared angrily at the naked man standing inches away from her. The sheer arrogance in his assertion made her jaw clench despite her earlier attraction to him.
"You're out of your mind," she finally managed, her voice stronger than she expected. "I'm a marine biologist, not some comic book character with magical water powers."
He stepped impossibly closer, the heat from his body warming her still-damp skin. "Deny it all you want. The ocean responds to you."
Isolde backed away from him, shaking her head in disbelief. Her scientific mind rebelled against his absurdity. She turned, her eyes scanning the distant shoreline again where the research station once stood.
"This is ridiculous. I didn't cause anything." She started walking north, the sand shifting beneath her bare feet. "I need to check on my colleagues."
The naked stranger followed, his footsteps nearly silent behind her. Isolde glanced back, expecting him to have at least fashioned some makeshift covering, but he strode behindher with the confidence of someone fully clothed, completely unembarrassed by his nudity. The moonlight caressed the planes of his muscular body, highlighting every perfect inch of him.
"Don't you think you should find some pants?" she called over her shoulder, trying not to admire how his powerful thighs flexed with each step.
"That isn't my priority right now." His voice carried easily over the sound of waves. "You understanding what happened is."
As they crested a small dune, Isolde's breath caught. The research station—a modern two-story building that had stood proudly overlooking the ocean for over a decade—was gone. Only the concrete foundation remained, surrounded by a sea of debris stretching across the beach. Broken glass glittered in the moonlight. Research equipment lay scattered and broken. A partial wall stood like a lonely sentinel where her laboratory had once been.
"This is..." Isolde pressed her hand to her mouth, her scientific mind struggling to process the devastation.
"The result of your awakening powers." The man appeared beside her, those blue-gray eyes assessing her reaction.
Anger flared in her chest again. "That's just plain mean and completely irrational. There must have been an earthquake or something that triggered a tsunami. Do you always blame random women for natural disasters?"
His lips quirked up at one corner. "Only when they're the one causing them."
Isolde was about to deliver a scathing response when movement caught her eye. Five figures huddled near what remained of the eastern wall, illuminated by the flashing lights of emergency vehicles that had arrived on scene. Relief flooded through her as she recognized her colleagues.
"Dr. Thompson! Marcos!" she called, running toward them, momentarily forgetting the frustrating man behind her.
Dr. Thompson—silver-haired and disheveled—looked up, his face brightening with relief. "Isolde!"
She embraced the older scientist, then moved to each of her other colleagues. Marcos with his salt-and-pepper beard, young Mara with a nasty gash on her forehead being tended by a paramedic, and the two other researchers, all wearing various expressions of shock and gratitude.
"We thought you'd gone home for the night," Mara said, wincing as the paramedic applied antiseptic.
"I was taking a walk on the beach," Isolde explained. "What happened?"
Dr. Thompson shook his head, gesturing at the wreckage. "A wave like nothing I've ever seen. No warning. It just... appeared."
"A man saved us," Marcos added, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "Pulled us out one by one. Built like a Greek god, that one."
Mara nodded. "Tall, dark hair, and incredibly strong. Just started dragging people out of the water before the emergency crews arrived."
Isolde turned, suddenly remembering her naked companion, but the space behind her was empty. The mysterious stranger had vanished as if he had never existed, leaving only footprints in the wet sand that disappeared into the darkness beyond the flashing lights.
For a moment, Isolde felt an inexplicable sense of loss—a hollow feeling in her chest that made no logical sense. They had exchanged fewer than fifty words, shared one impulsive kiss, and yet her body hummed with the memory of his touch, his intensity, and his commanding presence.
She shook her head, sending droplets of water flying from her tangled blonde hair. There were more important mattersat hand than a vanishing naked man, no matter how perfectly sculpted his body had been or how his blue eyes had seemed to see right through her.
"Everyone, I just got off the phone with the USGS," called Jason, the youngest of her colleagues, running from his car, phone in hand. His normally cheerful face was pale with confusion. "They confirmed there was no seismic activity tonight. None. Not even a tremor."
The group fell silent. Isolde's mind raced through the possibilities.
"That's impossible," Dr. Thompson said, voicing what they were all thinking. "A wave that size needs a trigger."
Marcos stepped closer. "Maybe military testing? Underwater explosions?"
