Chapter 32

Steps heavy, I weave up the jagged stairway carved into the lofty tower of crystal, cresting a rise that releases me onto a small plateau—like someone scooped out some stone and made a sheltered inlet.

A diving platform.

I look out upon the ocean that’s a stretch of glass bathed in the same soft peach as the sky. It would almost be impossible to pinpoint the horizon if it weren’t for the icebergs scattered across the still.

I look down the cliff to the ocean far below—a jump I’ve made many times.

Before.

Now the prospect feels a bit like leaping into a gaping, monstrous maw ready to crunch down on me, slurp the meat off my bones, then spit them out on the shore. The beast that roams these waters does not discriminate between what she does and does not eat.

Destroy.

Is she down there now? Looking up at me? Waiting for me to jump so she can pounce?

Crouching, I run my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots as Orlaith’s admission tap-tap-taps at me.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

The sawtooth edges of those three words shred my heart straight down the middle.

If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.

She needs to be here—with her people.

She needs to come home.

‘What do we do?’

Zyke has been so silent inside me, coiled in a knot of scales and frills, watching through big, green eyes. The erratic beat of his indecision pulsing through my blood and bones.

‘Soft little mate safe in sparkly rut hut. Not safe in too still sea. Zykanth swim real fast with big strong tail. Check on treasured one. Find soft little mate sparkly rock for big sorry. Little man poke soft little mate with tiny love stick. Soft little mate make big forgive.’

Fuck.

I need to speak with her. At least try to make her understand.

I push up, spinning. Heart stilling at the sight of Vicious cresting the rise of steps.

Her hair is a wild dash of disarray, eyes like rising suns—still heavy from sleep as her snowy brows pull together. Confusion stains her stare, and she looks to the drop behind me, back again.

My skin pebbles, responding to her nearness like the sea tides to the moon.

She shakes her head, and the two halves of my heart fall away from each other.

She knows I’m leaving.

“I have to, Vicious …” I steal a step forward, crushing the space between us while she looks at me through wide eyes. “I must help a treasured one. You stay. I go. Dangerous.”

Toodangerous for her.

“Mine,” she growls, shaking her head, tears slipping down her flushed cheeks as she steps forward and tips onto her toes, then takes my face in her hands. “Mine!”

The hurt in her eyes plows through my layers like a fucking gaff.

“Yes,” I rasp. “Yours. I’ll return soon.” My determination to outrun the hungry waters will also get me back. To her. “You stay. Safe. Nothing can get you here so long as you stay out of the water.”

Confusion swims in her glistening eyes, then her expression hardens, upper lip peeling back as a snarl builds in the back of her throat. “Come.”

My lungs compact.

Come …

The second word she’s ever spoken and it’s another spear through my fucking chest. Because I want her to come more than anything. Want to take her to my trove and show her my treasures.

She’s my chosen. I want to go everywhere with her—always.

Forever.

But there’s a hungry beast lurking in the water. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her because I lured her away from her safety net.

“Come!” she screams, the words clawing at me as she paws at my face, my arms. As she nuzzles into my chest.

‘Little chosen one thinks big strong. One chomp, gone.’

A pained sound rips up my throat.

I walk her back against the crystal until we’re a clash of hard and soft, and take her face in my hands, looking down into her wide eyes. “You can’t, Vicious. You can’t.”

Her features scrunch up, and I feel my heart do the same.

I dip my face into her neck and press a kiss to her flesh—

She shoves at my chest so hard I stumble back toward the edge, heaving breath, looking into wild eyes.

‘Hmm. Little chosen one bit strong …’

Her lips are peeled back from her teeth, forehead a crush of fine, snowy brows as she heaves serrated breaths, eyes blazing with a heartbreaking mix of pain and rage.

She doesn’t understand …

I close my eyes, choking beneath the oppressive weight of this harsh reality.

‘Go little man. Make big jump. Zykanth find big treasures. Make little savage one not mad.’

He’s right. Prolonging this hurt isn’t going to make it any better. I just need to go.

The quicker I go, the quicker I’ll return.

“I’ll be back,” I rasp, sliding back a step.

Another.

My feet tingle with the promise of frills and scales.

“Coming back,” I growl, and a snarl saws up her throat.

When I can no longer take the pain in her eyes, I spin.

Run.

Leap.

The fall is too swift, the plunge too slow—the water a crispy gulp to my sea-starved heart.

I pull a breath through my gills, feeling the power of the ocean pour into my bloodstream as my bones stretch and swell, jaw popping.

Skin ripping.

Shorts shredding.

A slew of piercing teeth spears down from my expanding gums with clamping might, scales peeling upward and smothering my soft skin. Water wings sprout from between my ribs, fanning, and my legs bind into a massive, mighty tail.

With a powerful churn of our body, Zykanth spears through the crystal clear like a silver speck in a sky full of black—a desperate, heart-pounding dash. The ocean rumbles against our skin, and an angry current begins to shove and pull.

Twist and heave.

To gush against our scales and make our frills flutter.

Shit.

‘Faster, Zyke! We’re too out in the open!’

‘Quiet. Zykanth not focus when little man whine.’

We spear toward the shifting icebergs, their glistening roots reaching into the dark depths. We worm between their shifting might, slurped down tightening gaps, chased by booming blows as we narrowly avoid being crushed—once.

Twice.

We come to a vast, empty space—the next iceberg a distant beacon in the gloom.

‘Little man hold big rib.’

I do as he says as we surge into the emptiness, the dappled, flickering light coming from above barely a match for the darkness surrounding us, almost at the berg when a coiling whirlpool appears below.

A hungry current that snatches us.

We’re pulled into its murky depths, rolling and thrashing, powerless against the spiraling fury. There’s the flash of a buttery tail within the raging swirl, a stream of bubbles that blow against our face, before we’re spat out amidst the calm like a chewed bite.

Free.

Fucking free.

‘Go, Zyke. Go!’

We power through the ocean, punching free of the abyss, heart hammering, tail churning. Pushing us farther and farther away from our Vicious.

Zykanth releases a chilling squeal into the churning sea, my heart still perched on a cliff at our backs.

Knowing I’ve done the right thing. Hating myself anyway.

Forgive me, Vicious …