Chapter 4

Morgan couldn’t stop looking at him. The beauty of the man’s face was something he’d never expected—how could humans look so much like the Agnarra? Weren’t they brutish, as ugly on the outside as they were on the inside?

But this one was truly beautiful, with broad, elegant features and eyelashes so long Morgan couldn’t help but wonder about the eyes concealed beneath them. The man was nude, not wearing pieces of armor like the others had been—perhaps they’d burned away in the blast—and his form was long, lean, symmetrical …

Except for the burns.

Morgan felt sorrow in his heart even as he looked at the man. Surely he would die soon. Morgan didn’t remember much about people, but he did know they weren’t as tough on an individual level as an Agnarra. That was why they had to play terrible tricks and do unforgivable things in order to win. Burns this severe … they would test even one of Morgan’s kind. A human could have no hope of recovering.

I should leave him here. I’ve seen him; now it’s time to let him die in peace.But the light of the moon had never looked quite so lovely as it did when it was highlighting this poor man’s face. Morgan’s fingers itched with the urge to draw or sculpt him. Would anyone believe he’d imagined this face on his own when they saw it later?

Unable to resist, Morgan reached out and, very gently, ran his fingertips down the man’s forehead, over the bridge of his nose, then bump-bump over the curves of his lips. He tried to commit those curves to memory, feeling them out: the shape of his jaw, his smooth and lovely chin, his slender eyebrows, and the arch of his cheekbones. Morgan mapped the man’s face, more and more entranced with it, until finally he’d had his fill. He pulled his hands back, reluctant but ready to bid the poor soul farewell, and then—

The man’s eyes opened.

His eyes were like starlight.

Morgan couldn’t move, completely entranced by the person looking up at him. “Hello,” he offered after a moment, not sure what else he could say. Would the human rage at him? Spit on him? Prove once and for all that people like this weren’t a breed to be trusted?

No … he smiled. It was a faint, thin thing, but a smile nonetheless. He smiled, and Morgan felt like his heart flipped upside down in his chest. If he was beautiful when he was still, he was positively radiant when he smiled. Distantly, Morgan realized that the possibility of him coming out of this meeting unscathed had just gone way down because now … now he couldn’t leave. Not without doing everything he could to make this man comfortable.

“Do you hurt?” he asked. “You fell into the water after your people’s ship blew up. Is … are the burns painful?”

The human looked at him blankly. Morgan was confused at first, then put it together in a rush—of course, the human didn’t speak his language. This man had no idea what Morgan was saying.

“It’s all right,” he said, making his voice as reassuring as possible. “I’m going to make you feel better, all right?” He would start with a bed of cooling, slippery seaweed to lay the human on, then bind the rest of his wounds as best he could in the same.

Gathering the seaweed was easy enough, even in the dark—there was a special variety that promoted healing better than the others, and its strands were long and wide, simple to detect by feel. Morgan bundled it between his claws, then carried it up onto land, where—

Oof!It was a lot heavier when he took on his humanoid form! And … where to put it? He couldn’t leave the man out in the open like this—the birds would peck him to shreds. The overhang, though … that might do for a while. Morgan hauled the seaweed over there, then followed with the man, who was looking far less awake now than he had been a few minutes ago. His breath sounded raspy in his throat, a bit wheezy—perhaps he was thirsty.

Fresh water, fresh water … they were too far from the village’s spring for Morgan to fetch some from there, but perhaps the last rainfall had left some reservoirs here on the rocks. He shifted and hunted the smell of fresh water down, finding two small pools. Changing back into two legs, Morgan cupped his hands in the water and, very slowly, brought it back to the man.

He was barely awake now, but he managed to drink, first tiny sips, then enormous slurps once he realized what was being offered. “Yes, isn’t that nice?” Morgan said, feeling accomplished. “Let me get you some more.” He made the trip again, then again, and on the fourth time …

On the fourth time, the man was asleep. Or unconscious, but Morgan was going with asleep for now. It was gentler, somehow. He stared at him, resting peacefully on the seaweed, calm in the night air despite how it must make his human skin feel chilled …

Skin. The burns, right! Morgan grabbed the extra lengths of seaweed he’d pulled ashore and bound up the remaining burns, hoping that it helped. Saltwater wasn’t usually very nice in a wound, but the seaweed itself was a tried-and-true remedy. Hopefully, it would help more than it hurt. Now, what next?

“—gan!”

Morgan was so absorbed in his own thoughts, he barely realized that someone was calling for him until their voice was too close for comfort.

“Morgan!”

At least it was Garen and not Brevaer. Morgan climbed out from beneath the overhang as carefully as he could and dove into the water, transforming and swimming to the front of the beach a moment later. He poked his head out of the water and wriggled his ears at his best friend, who reoriented on Morgan the moment he saw him.

Yes. Leave the rocky section alone, pay attention to me here.

“What are you doing out here?” Garen demanded harshly, wading into the water and grabbing Morgan by one of his ears. Morgan whined pathetically. “It’s too late to go off by yourself, especially after everything that’s happened today. Do you want your brother to drag you back to the village by your tail?”

How was holding him by his ear any better!? Morgan whuffed irritably, then flipped his tail to splash Garen with a wave of water. His friend spluttered and dropped him, and Morgan swam far enough away to be sure that when he changed back, he wouldn’t immediately be tackled.

“I just wanted to see if I could find some pieces of the boat on my own!” he said. “Without Brevaer looking over my shoulder and shouting at me the whole time.”

“Your brother is just worried about you, Morgan. He only wants you to be safe, he—”

Morgan had had it with being lectured. “I don’t want to only be safe!” he snapped, splashing water at Garen with a humanoid arm. “I don’t want to be tucked away in our home and left to experience nothing but what my brother deems appropriate for all of my days. I don’t want to sacrifice my life for some imaginary ideal of security! And if you do, fine, then go back and listen to your mother, but it will only make my brother less likely to love you than he already is!”

Garen looked at Morgan like he’d just stabbed him through the heart. It took a moment for Morgan to realize the extent of what he’d just revealed—that he not only knew Garen was in love with Brevaer but also that Brevaer knew it and didn’t requite it.

He’d gone too far. “I’m sorry,” Morgan said, reaching out to take Garen’s hand. His friend was already turning away, stumbling blindly toward the rocky beach. Morgan splashed after him, wrapping his arms tight around him before Garen could get away. They sank to their knees in the water, and when Garen began to shake, Morgan knew it was from crying even though he couldn’t see his face.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” Morgan babbled, desperate to fix things. “He does, he just … I don’t think anyone has caught his attention like that yet. That doesn’t mean no one ever will.”

“Just not me,” Garen said in a small voice.

“Ha, he would be lucky to end up with someone as wonderful as you.” Garen was one of the best people Morgan knew, kind to everyone, always ready to listen, and with a fierce desire to serve their village. So he was a bit blustery and occasionally grumpy—who wasn’t? “And I shouldn’t have talked about your mother either,” Morgan added. “I’m sorry.”

Garen didn’t reply, just turned and wrapped his arms around Morgan’s waist, leaning his hot, wet face against his shoulder. Morgan rocked him and held him close and almost, almost forgot about the man he had hidden not a hundred feet away.

He would come back to him tomorrow and bring food and a blanket if he could find one to spare. The man would surely appreciate it …

If he was still alive by then.