I reach out through our mental connection, my thoughts tinged with desperation and fear."Baby? Can you hear me? Where are you, Angel?"
Nothing. No response, no flicker of her presence in my mind. Just a yawning, aching emptiness that makes my heart clench and my stomach twists with dread.
Goddammit! I can't lose her, not again.
I race to the ship's edge, my boots pounding against the blood-slick deck as I scan the churning waters below. The sea is littered with bodies, the floating corpses of pirates and sailors alike bobbing in the waves like macabre flotsam. But there is no sign of Danica, no flash of her vibrant, living presence amidst the death and destruction.
Without a second thought, I dive over the side, the icy water hitting my sweat-soaked skin like a slap to the face. I open my eyes, the salt stinging and burning as I scan the murky depths for any sign of my mate. But all I see are sinking ships and drifting debris, the remnants of the battle slowly settling to the bottom of the sea.
I surface with a gasp, my lungs burning and my heart pounding. "Danica!"
But there is no answer, no sign of her amidst the carnage. I start swimming frantically, my muscles exhausted as I haul myself from one floating corpse to the next, searching for any sign of her.
No. No. This can't be fucking happening, not again.I have just gotten her back, havejust—
"Mate!" Gideon yells from the ship. "Ye best be gettin' out of the waters. The Sirens will be down there taking whatever souls they can find. Get out, now!"
I feel a chill run down my spine at his words, a prickling sense of unease that has nothing to do with the cold sea.
Sirens. Of course. As if we didn't have enough to worry about, with Danica missing the ship in tatters and the crew exhausted and bleeding.
But I don't have time to dwell on the new threat, and I don't have time to do anything but scan the churning waters for any sign of my mate. I squint against the sun's glare, my eyes straining to pick out any hint of movement or color amidst the bobbing corpses and drifting debris.
But there's nothing. No flash of chestnut hair, no gleam of honey-gold eyes. Just an endless expanse of blue-green water, broken only by the occasional splash of crimson blood or the pale, bloated flesh of the dead.
I feel my heart sink, a cold, leaden weight settling in the pit of my stomach as the reality of the situation crashes over me like a tidal wave. Danica is gone, vanished without a trace in the chaos of the battle. And now, with the threat of the Sirens lurking beneath the waves, I have no real option than to get the hell out of these Siren-invested waters.
The real question—how the fuck am I going to get back on the goddamn ship now? I'm treading water in the middle of a sea of corpses, my muscles burning with exhaustion and my mind reeling.
Suddenly, a figure bursts out of the water beside me, the splash of their emergence sending ripples cascading across the surface. My heart leaps into my throat, hope, fear, and desperate longing all tangled together in a knot of raw emotion.
I squint against the sun's glare, my eyes straining to make out the details of the figure bobbing in the waves. And then I see it—a flash of chestnut hair and a gleam of honey-gold eyes.
My heart stops, my breath catching, "Dani!"
I start swimming towards her, my arms churning through the water with a strength born of pure, unadulterated desperation. My muscles scream in protest, my lungs burning with the effort of propelling myself through the churning sea.
But I don't care; I don't even feel the pain or the fatigue. All I can think about is getting to my mate, wrapping her in my arms, and never letting her go again.
As I draw closer, though, something starts to feel off. Dani's face is different; her features are too perfect, too symmetrical. And her smile—it's not the warm, loving grin I know so well, but something colder, more predatory.
"Hello, handsome," her voice like honey, silk, and sin all wrapped up in one.
I feel my limbs go limp, my body suddenly heavy and sluggish in the water. It's like I'm moving through molasses; every stroke is an effort of will that drains the strength from my muscles and the air from my lungs.
Who the hell?
And then, like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky, the crack of gunfire shatters the spell. I hear Gideon's voice, rough and urgent, cutting through the haze of enchantment like a knife."Back off ye man eatin' bitch!"
I shake my head, the fog of the siren's song clearing from my mind as I realize the danger I'm in. The creature in front of me is not my angel. No, it's a monster, a demon of the sea that seeks to drag me down into the abyss and steal the very breath from my lungs.
I don't hesitate. I dive beneath the waves, my legs kicking and my arms paddling with a strength born of pure animal panic. I can hear the creature behind me and feel the brush of its fingers against my ankle as it tries to grab hold and drag me back.
But I'm faster, my body cutting through the water like a blade as I surge towards the ship. Above me, I can hear the sharp crack of Gideon's pistol, muffled and distorted by the water. The gunshots echo through the depths like a series of dull, distant thunderclaps, a reminder of the danger that lurks below.
And then, like a miracle, I hear Erik's voice calling out to me from above. I look up, my eyes locking with his as he leans over the railing, a coil of rope clutched in his hand.
"Grab on!" he yells, and I don't hesitate.
