“Cannot produce more immediately. Used it all for female.” His tentacles wrap around me weakly. “This one will heal. Slowly. But will heal.”
I get us both to the palace, or what's left of it. The master chamber is intact, somehow, though water reaches higher than before. I pull Aylth onto the sleeping ledge, counting his wounds. Seventeen deep gashes from barbs. Multiple toxin injection sites. Three scales completely torn away, leaving raw flesh exposed.
“Need time,” he says, already fading toward unconsciousness. “Body must regenerate. Must heal. Three days minimum.”
“I'll protect you.”
His laugh is weak. “Female will protect this one?”
“Yes.”
His eyes close, and I watch his body begin the healing process. The wounds seal slowly, so slowly. The scales begin to reform at a rate that would be invisible if I wasn't watching for it. His fever drops as his system focuses entirely on repair.
I stay awake that first night, watching the shadows in the water. The creature's corpse has attracted scavengers, but none approach the palace. They know this is Aylth's territory still.
But I also see other shapes. Other hunters, drawn by the scent of blood and weakness. They don't approach yet, but they're watching. Waiting.
Aylth was right about young hunters having short memories for pain but long memories for humiliation.
They know he's vulnerable.
And they're coming.
NAIA
Aylth hasn't moved in thirty-six hours.
I press my hand to his chest, counting heartbeats. Slower than normal but steady. The blue blood has stopped seeping from his wounds, and the torn scales are reforming grain by grain. But he's lost somewhere deep inside himself, his body focused entirely on healing.
The palace coral pulses around us, softer than usual. Worried. I've learned to read its moods since my connection to the reef strengthened. Right now it's broadcasting concern through every wall, every pillar, every carefully grown structure.
I should be relieved he's healing. Instead, I'm terrified.
Because I can feel them out there.
The sensation starts as a prickle at the base of my skull, then spreads. My skin goes cold despite the warm water. The bioluminescent marks on my body dim, like they're trying to hide. Every glowing creature in the palace has retreated into crevices and shadows.
Something is coming.
I swim to the chamber's transparent wall and press against it. The water outside looks normal. Dark blue fading to black at depth, dotted with the usual drifting specks of plankton. But Iknow better now. I can feel the currents changing, the way water moves when something large disturbs it from a distance.
Two somethings. Maybe three.
They're testing the boundaries, seeing if anyone will respond to their presence.
I look back at Aylth. He's massive even unconscious, tentacles spread across the sleeping ledge in a protective circle around himself. But he's vulnerable. Completely defenseless. If they come while he's like this...
The coral flares brighter for a moment, sharing my alarm. It remembers the Leviathan. The palace is still damaged from that attack, whole sections flooded or collapsed. We can't survive another assault.
I have to keep them away.
The weapons room is half-destroyed, but I salvaged what I could after the battle. Three coral spears remain, each one hollow and coated with Aylth's concentrated toxins. I grab two and swim back to our chamber, placing them within easy reach.
My hands shake.
I'm not a fighter. Two weeks ago, I was a rescue swimmer who pulled tourists from riptides. Now I'm supposed to defend an underwater palace from alien hunters who could tear me apart without effort.
But I'm not the same woman who stepped through that portal either.
