“Mercy,” Reef wheezes out.
“Mercy?” This one laughs. “Young fool tried to steal what is this one's. Touched her with inferior tentacles. Made her suffer through inadequacy.”
“Please!”
This one considers. The frenzy is building, demanding violence, demanding dominance established through death. But death teaches nothing to the dead.
“Live,” this one decides. “Live and spread word. The Ancient One still rules. Any who challenge for the female die slowly.”
This one releases him but not gently. Throws him into a rock pillar hard enough to crack more scales. He floats, stunned, bleeding from mouth and gills.
“Take your friends,” this one commands. “Leave this territory. Return and become food for flesh-renders.”
Reef manages to swim to Tide-Dancer, who is barely conscious. Together they struggle to Storm-Singer, still sufferingfrom the heat damage. The three flee, leaving blood trails that will attract every predator for miles.
This one should feel satisfaction. Victory was absolute.
But the frenzy has fully awakened now.
The breeding tentacles pulse painfully, leaking so much preparation fluid the water clouds white around this one. Every cell demands immediate return to cave. Immediate claiming of female. The violence has triggered biological imperative that cannot be ignored.
This one swims back faster than ever before. The water itself seems to part, understanding the urgency. The journey that usually takes twenty minutes happens in five.
By the time the cave comes into view, rational thought is fragmenting. Forty seasons of control, of discipline, of choosing when and how to act, dissolving into pure need.
Must breed. Must claim. Must fill.
Female is in the water when this one arrives, worry clear on her face. She starts to speak, probably questions about the combat.
This one's appearance silences her.
The breeding tentacles are fully exposed, extended to maximum length. The primary is thick as her thigh where it connects to this one's body, tapering to still-impressive girth at the tip. Ridged and textured, it pulses with independent heartbeat. The secondary curves and coils, covered in specialized suckers that glow with bioluminescence. Both leak continuously, the preparation fluid designed to ease entry and trigger her body's acceptance.
This one's scales have darkened to nearly black, the combat-rage mixing with mating-need. Bioluminescent patterns pulse along all tentacles in dominance display. Blood still seeps from wounds Reef managed to inflict, mixing with the sexual secretions to create primal scent-marker.
“You're hurt,” she says, reaching toward a gash on this one's chest.
“Not hurt. Victorious.” The words come out growled. Vocal cords struggling with civilized speech when everything demands primitive action.
“Your tentacles...”
“Mating frenzy.” This one forces out explanation. “Combat triggers biological response. Body demands immediate breeding.”
She backs against the cave wall, not fear but surprise. “But you said three days.”
“Cannot wait. Control is gone.” This one moves closer, tentacles spreading to bracket her. “This one needs... needs to...”
“Show me,” she says quietly. “Show me what you need.”
The permission destroys the last thread of restraint.
The frenzy takes over completely.
NAIA
The water around Aylth churns like a living thing when he surfaces from the combat.
I smell him before I see him clearly—copper and salt from blood, ozone from his rage, and underneath it all, something sweet and thick that makes my modified body clench with recognition. The scent hits my brain like a drug, making thought scatter into fragments.
