Chapter Thirteen

“You're going to die if you don’t figure this out,” I muttered, staring at the sunlight streaming in while I stayed in the shade.

But it wasn’t just dying that scared me. It was how it would happen. I already knew the sun would burn me alive if I stepped out there.

I started pacing the cave, frustration bubbling under my skin. It felt like I was stuck in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I kicked a rock, hard, and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through my foot.

“Shit.”

I sat down, cradling my toe as blood trickled out. Tears burned at the back of my eyes. It wasn’t just the stupid rock. It was everything. I’d felt helpless before, plenty of times, but this was different. This wasn’t just being stuck. This was staring doom in the face and knowing it was waiting to swallow me whole.

Then my stomach let out a growl so loud it echoed. It sounded like some dying animal, and I pressed my hands against it, like that’d shut it up. When was the last time I ate? I couldn’t even remember.

My eyes wandered to the basket I’d thrown earlier. Its contents were scattered, seagrass seeds, clusters of sea grapes, and some weird pods that glistened faintly in the algae’s glow. The smell hit me, all sharp and salty, and my stomach growled again, louder this time.

I tried to ignore it. Pride told me to look away. Hunger didn’t care.

My vision blurred at the edges, the hunger pushing everything else aside. I needed food.

Shame prickled under my skin as I crawled toward the scattered food. My fingers scraped against the stone, grabbing whatever they could find. The first handful went into my mouth before I even thought about it.

Sand crunched between my teeth, and salt stung my tongue. I gagged but forced it down. My throat didn’t want to cooperate, but I kept going. Sea grapes burst in my mouth, their juice sticky and tangy, dripping down my chin. The slimy pods had no taste at all, but I didn’t care. Bite after bite, I shoved it down, desperate to quiet the ache in my stomach.

Tears spilled over as I ate, mixing with the salt on my face. It wasn’t just the food. It was the humiliation of it all, crawling on the ground, shoving random scraps into my mouth like I was some kind of animal. I hated it. I hated him for putting me here.

But I didn’t stop. Each bite pushed the hunger further away.

When there was nothing left, I leaned back against the wall, wiping my mouth with the back of my arm. Now that the hunger wasn’t screaming at me, exhaustion hit. All I wanted to do was sleep. My eyes scanned the cave, and that’s when I saw it, a bed of seaweed tucked into the corner. Stones arranged like a little table nearby.

This wasn’t random.

My stomach knotted as the realization sank in. He’d prepared this place.

For me?

No. That couldn’t be right. This had to be his home. I told myself that over and over, but the thought wouldn’t leave me alone.

I stood up, pacing to shake off the unease. That’s when I noticed something. My foot didn’t hurt anymore. I looked down and froze. The cut from the rock was gone. Completely healed.

The algae.

It had to be.

I knew the algae had regenerative properties. It had healed Amanda’s cancer. It healed the diseases we induced in the test mice. But the sunlight was its undoing.

I crouched near the wall, staring at the glowing algae spreading across its surface. “Okay, think,” I muttered. Why does sunlight destroy it?

Could it be photosensitization? Some substances, like psoralen in plants, react with UV light to cause burns. Maybe the algae worked the same way, it healed in darkness but became toxic when exposed to sunlight.

Amanda never tested sunlight exposure herself. She avoided it entirely, and she was alive. The mice weren’t so lucky. When exposed to sunlight after being injected with the algae serum, they suffered rapid cellular damage when exposed to sunlight. They died.

But for me things were different. I hadn’t just ingested it, I’d touched it, breathed it, absorbed it through my skin for hours. That saturation might make me different. It was already healing me. My foot, torn open just minutes ago, was completely repaired.

What if I could go in the sun and when it started to burn, I took more algae creating a cycle of tear and repair, until I reached cover. It was a desperate theory one that I’d have to test.

I turned toward the pool, my mind racing with possibilities. Could the algae work in a constant cycle of repair and damage? What if, instead of killing me instantly, the sunlight burned me while the algae healed me at the same time? Could the algae keep up with the damage? Not reverse it, but keep pace with it long enough for me to find shade?

It was a dangerous theory. But right now, it was all I had.

I needed to test the algae, but I wasn’t about to try it on myself. Not yet. My eyes landed on a piece of driftwood near the edge of the pool. Perfect.

I scraped a clump of algae off the wall, its faint glow pulsing against the shell in my hand. It felt alive, sticky and warm, and I hated how it clung to the tool like it didn’t want to let go. I pushed the thought aside and got to work.

Using the shell, I ground the algae into a paste and mixed it with a little seawater, creating a thick, slimy coating. Carefully, I smeared it over the driftwood, making sure the layer was even. It glowed faintly, fragile but steady. My heart raced as I set the wood into a patch of sunlight streaming through the hole above.

At first, the algae held. Its glow fought against the light, pulsing with quiet defiance. But then, the edges started to curl. The glow dimmed, turning to ash as the sunlight burned through it. The driftwood blackened, the algae reduced to nothing.

I yanked the wood back, my fingers trembling. “Okay,” I muttered. “Let’s see if you can fix this.”

I scraped another clump of algae, mixing it with a little crushed shell for added strength. My hands shook as I worked, spreading the paste over the blackened wood. This time, the coating was thicker, more deliberate. I placed it back into the sunlight, holding my breath.

The algae glowed brighter than before. It pulsed steadily, clinging to the charred surface like it was trying to fight back. For a moment, I thought it might work.

But then it failed.

The edges didn’t just blacken, they burst into violent sparks, the glow vanishing in an instant. The driftwood hissed and cracked, the damage spreading faster and deeper. The algae burned away completely, leaving the wood scorched and brittle.

I snatched it back, my chest tight with frustration. My fingers curled around the charred remains, the heat still radiating off the surface. It hadn’t worked. The algae couldn’t repair the damage fast enough. Worse, it seemed to make the burns even more violent the second time.

I threw the driftwood across the cave. It clattered against the stone, breaking into splinters. “Fuck!” The word ripped out of me, echoing off the damp walls. My hands pressed to my face, sticky with algae and sweat. Tears stung my eyes, hot and humiliating.

The algae couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t enough to stop the sunlight. Every test had led to the same dead end. No matter how I tried to force it, to apply reason, the results were the same. The cycle of damage and repair wasn’t sustainable. The algae didn’t work the way I needed it to, not for this.

I slumped back against the rock, my body trembling from exhaustion and defeat. The glow of the algae around the cave mocked me, steady and unchanging, as if it knew something I didn’t. As if it was laughing at my pathetic attempt to understand it.

And maybe it was.

My chest heaved, my breath shaky and uneven. I stared at the faint, rhythmic pulse of the algae. It felt alive. Too alive. Healing, killing, glowing, fading, it didn’t follow the rules. Not the rules I knew. This wasn’t science. It couldn’t be.

The realization hit me like a blow. This algae wasn’t just some natural phenomenon. It was ancient. Something beyond me, beyond us. It didn’t belong in a lab, didn’t fit in any of our neat, logical categories. This was designed, for what, I didn’t know. But it wasn’t just another organism. It was something bigger. Something incomprehensible.

Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t bother wiping them away. What was the point? I was nothing against this. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t mine to control. It belonged to the depths, to something older and far more powerful than I could grasp.

The algae pulsed again, lighting the walls like a silent heartbeat. It wasn’t mocking me, I realized. It didn’t care about me at all. I was just… here. Trying to make sense of something that didn’t care if I lived or died.

“There’s no way out,” I whispered, the words hollow and raw. Not like this. Not by trying to reason with something that was never meant to be understood.

Just then a ripple spread through the blue hole.

My stomach twisted. I didn’t need to look to know what it meant.

I wanted to close my eyes, to shut him out. But my gaze betrayed me. It followed the sharp lines of his chest, the hard set of his jaw. The water reached his hips, trembling like it feared him. My stomach twisted, a heat curling low that I didn’t want to name. My breath hitched, shallow and uneven.

Why was my body reacting like this? Why now, when everything was wrong? My mind screamed at me to feel nothing, but the heat only spread, wrapping around me like a poison. It made me feel weak. Controlled. My hands clenched into fists, my nails pressing hard against my skin.

I hated myself for it. For the way my body betrayed me. For the way every part of me seemed to tense under his gaze. Fear and something darker tangled together, impossible to separate.

He stepped forward, his feet breaking the water’s surface without a sound. His movements were precise, like each one was part of some ancient ritual. His webbed fingers flexed, claws glinting faintly. They curled as if testing their sharpness.

His lips curved into a slow, cruel smile. It wasn’t human. His teeth, jagged and too many, peeked out, gleaming faintly. My chest tightened, and my pulse felt like it might shatter my ribs.

“You look rather lovely in seaweed.” He drawled, the scorn in his words slicing through the air.

Shame and anger collided inside me. My arms crossed over my chest, trying to cover myself. The seaweed clung to my skin, wet and useless. “Go to hell.”

His smirk deepened and though his tone was soft, it was laced with authority. “You still think you have a say.”

Another step forward, and the cave seemed to shrink. His presence filled every corner, the air pressing against me like a living thing. My back pressed harder against the stone wall as he closed the distance. There was nowhere to run.

I tried to look away, but my gaze flicked back to him. His beauty was sharp and deliberate, like a weapon. Perfect in a way that felt cruel. Every flawless detail made my flaws feel more glaring.

“Why are you here?” My voice cracked. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes.

“You already know.” His eyes moved over me slowly, as though taking in every shiver and every twitch. “You feel it, don’t you? The pull. The inevitability.”

A knot formed in my stomach, twisting tighter with each word. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep the panic down. “I’m just trying to survive… from you!” My words came out sharper than I intended.

His smile faded, and his gaze darkened. “You’re not my enemy, Pearl.” But his tone became softer.. Too soft. “You’re my purpose.”

The words wrapped around me, unshakable. My chest tightened, my pulse racing. I wanted to scream, to tell him he was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come.

He reached to his waist and pulled out a dagger. The blade gleamed faintly, its smooth hilt carved from dark stone and polished until it shone. Sea stones decorated it, their colors soft and otherworldly. It looked ancient and impossibly sharp.

Panic gripped me as he stepped closer. “Why are you giving me that?” My voice trembled. “What if I kill you with it?”

He tilted his head, a cruel smile pulling at his lips. “When the thought crosses your mind, I’ll know.”

His calmness chilled me. This wasn’t a trick. It was real. “Why?” I asked, my throat dry. “Why give me this?”

He gestured to the broken shells and splintered raft behind me. “For your experiments.”

He knew.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through the air. My face burned, frustration and humiliation twisting together. I stared at the dagger, unsure if it was a gift or a trap. Its weight in my hand would feel like both.

“You’ll take it,” he murmured. “I know you need it. I know you want it.”

My anger flared. “Stay out of my head.”

His smirk widened. “But your mind is so inviting.”

I grabbed the blade from his hand. The cool hilt steadied me, even as the force of his presence seemed ready to overwhelm me. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“You’ll need it,” he said, his tone softer now. He stepped back, brushing against me one last time before turning toward the pool.

The water greeted him like it knew him, rising to his hips as he stepped in. His legs shifted, merging into his tail with a fluid grace. He sank beneath the surface, only his eyes visible above the waterline, watching me like I still belonged to him.

“Rest,” he commanded. “You’ll need it.”

I sank to the floor, the dagger clutched tightly in my hand. My body trembled, every word and touch lingering on my skin.

You’re my purpose.