"I can't watch him?—"
"You can." I test the chains again, feeling them weaken slightly as the drugs clear. "Because I'm getting us out of here before it comes to that. I just need time for the inhibitor to wear off. Then I shift, break these chains, and we tear this place apart."
"The doors are warded. The walls are solid rock. There's no way out."
"There's always a way out." I test the chains again. They hold, but I'm getting stronger as the drug wears off. Power stirs beneath my skin, angry and restless. "I've been guardian of these waters my entire life. I've fought threats that would make Carrick piss himself. I'm not letting some megalomaniac mage hurt my mate."
The word drops between us, raw and unguarded. Isla's breath catches, eyes widening. But there's no time to take it back, and I wouldn't if I could. She's mine, has been since the moment we met. I'll tear this entire platform apart before I let Carrick touch her.
Light moves across the ritual chamber's ceiling through gaps in the stone. The sun rising toward dawn. Toward the time Carrick plans to begin.
I've been working the chains steadily, pulling and testing. The drugs are almost clear. Power pushes close to the surface, ready to tear free. The bindings hurt, but pain is nothing compared to what Carrick has planned.
Finally, the shift hovers just beneath my skin, waiting for the right moment. If I transform too soon, Carrick will just dose me again. I need to wait until he's distracted, focused on Isla and the ritual. Then I can break free, destroy everything he's built, and get us both out of here.
The chamber doors open. Carrick enters with several assistants carrying ritual components. The tides are turning. He's ready to begin.
They position themselves around the chamber, creating a circle with both of us at key points. Carrick carries the silver blade, its edge gleaming sharp and cruel. He approaches me slowly, speaking words in a language I don't recognize. Old magic. Dark magic.
Rage demands release, but I hold back. Wait. One chance at this. Can't waste it.
Carrick raises the blade toward my chest. "Let's start with something simple, Dr. Calder. A cut for every minute you refuse. We'll see how long your resolve lasts when you're watching him bleed." He meets Isla's eyes across the chamber. "When you're ready to end his suffering, you need only say the words. 'I offer my blood willingly.' That's all it takes."
Isla's face goes pale, but her jaw sets. Stubborn. Strong. She meets my eyes—fear there, yes, but also defiance and trust. I stop fighting the shift. The transformation tears through me—bones restructuring, muscle expanding. Power floods my limbs as fur erupts across my skin. The spelled restraints shriek as they stretch, magical barbs shredding against the force of my bear breaking free. The chains shatter.
Carrick stumbles backward, blade falling from his grip, shock replacing his composed expression. His assistants scatter. Smart.
I charge. Carrick throws dark magic at me, burning spells that sear fur and skin. Pain explodes across my shoulders and chest. Nothing will stop me.
I hit him like an avalanche. We crash into the ritual table, scattering implements across stone. My claws rake his chest, tearing through robes that were supposed to protect him. He screams, trying to scramble away.
There's nowhere to run. I'm between him and the only exit.
Then I hear it. A sound from deep below. A vibration that resonates through the platform, through the ocean itself. Something massive, waking in the depths. Responding to blood already spilled in this chamber—Carrick's own blood, drawn in preparation for the ritual he never got to complete. Responding to the violence and magic saturating this space.
The platform shudders. Wards flicker and fail. Pressure waves hit from below, making the entire structure groan. Carrick's base isn't going to hold. It's coming, and it's angry.
I shift to human form, the transformation fast and brutal. Carrick lies broken on the floor, bleeding from deep wounds. Dying. But Isla is still chained, and the platform is breaking apart around us.
"Grayson!" She pulls at her restraints. "We have to get out of here!"
I cross to her, using strength I didn't know I still had to tear the manacles from the wall. Magic burns my hands but I don't care. She's free. That's all that matters.
The chamber doors burst open, torn from hinges by pressure from below. Water rushes in, cold and violent. The platform is sinking, wards completely gone. We have seconds before the entire structure collapses into the trench.
"Call your selkie forward." I grab Isla's shoulders. "We need to get out of here before this whole platform collapses."
"But Grayson, you can't dive that deep again. It’s too dangerous; it could kill you."
"We don't have a choice." Another shudder rocks the platform. Metal screams as support structures buckle. "Carrick took us directly over the deepest trench. When this platform fails, we either swim or we sink."
Right though. I can't survive another dive to those depths. Even shifters have limits. The pressure down there will crush me. Kill me slowly while I try desperately to surface.
But Isla can survive it. Selkie-born, bred for deep water. She can make it to the surface while I die making sure she escapes.
"Go." I push her toward the broken doors. "Shift and swim. Don't look back."
"I'm not leaving you!" She grabs my arms, nails digging into skin. "We go together or not at all."
