"I know." I met his eyes and let him see the promise there, the absolute certainty burning in my chest. "I'll keep my distance. But I'm not letting her go."
He nodded once, sharp and decisive, and then he and Vale were gone, two shadows disappearing into the deep, their tails propelling them toward the trenches where the sea witch made her home.
I stayed where I was, floating in the darkness beneath the ship, the pink ribbon still clutched in my hand. She'd gone inside by now. Back to her cramped quarters, her hidden life, her endless fear. I could feel her absence like a wound, could feel the pull of her even through the wood and water that separated us.
Omega. Our omega. Whether she knew it yet or not.
"She's special." Thane had drifted close, his amber eyes fixed on the ship above, the cream ribbon now tied around his wristwhere he could touch it easily. His voice was soft with wonder, almost reverent. "Isn't she? I've never felt anything like this before."
Neither had I. In all my years—and there had been many, more than I cared to count—I'd never felt this pull. This desperate, overwhelming need to protect, to possess, to cherish. Other females had caught my attention, briefly. None of them had made me feel like this. Like I'd finally found something I didn't know I was looking for.
"She's ours," I said, and the words came out certain, inevitable, as undeniable as the tide. "She just doesn't know it yet."
"We'll show her." Thane's voice was soft with wonder, warm with hope, and when he looked at me his amber eyes were bright with something like joy. "We'll court her and protect her and show her what it means to be wanted. Really wanted. The way omegas should be wanted."
I lifted the ribbon to my face again, breathing deep. Her scent filled my lungs, sweet and rich and intoxicating. Beneath the omega pheromones, I could smell the rest of her—the salt of the sea she loved, the exhaustion of days spent working too hard, the sharp chemical note of whatever she used to mask her true nature.
Beneath all of it, barely detectable, the scent of something I couldn't quite identify. Something sharp and sad and lonely. She'd been alone for so long. Hiding for so long. And we still didn't know why. We were going to find out. We were going to court her, win her, make her trust us enough to tell us her secrets. And whatever she was running from, whatever had driven her to hide on a fishing boat and mask her scent and work herself to exhaustion.
We were going to show her that she didn't have to run anymore. Didn't have to hide. Didn't have to be alone. We weregoing to give her a home. A pack. A place where she could be herself—omega, human, a wonderful strange creature who gave gifts to monsters and sang to the empty sea—and know that she was treasured.
Treasured. The way omegas were meant to be.
Loved.
The word surfaced in my mind, foreign and frightening and absolutely right. I'd never loved anything before. Had never wanted to. Love was weakness, vulnerability, a soft spot that enemies could exploit. Looking up at that ship, thinking about the girl hidden somewhere inside it, I understood that I was already lost. Already hers, whether she wanted me or not.
All that remained was to make her want me back. I settled in to wait, the ribbon pressed against my chest, counting the hours until dawn. Until I could see her again. Until we could begin the long, careful process of making her ours.
Above me, the ship rocked gently on the waves. Somewhere inside it, she was sleeping, dreaming whatever dreams humans dreamed. I hoped she was dreaming of us. I hoped she was dreaming of the sea, and freedom, and four creatures who would worship her until the end of time.
Soon, I promised her silently. Soon you'll understand.
Soon you'll be ours.
Soon you'll be home.
Chapter Seven
KAELAN
The trenches were cold. Not the pleasant cool of shallow waters, not the comfortable chill of the depths where we made our home. This was something else entirely, a bone-deep cold that seeped through scales and skin and settled into the marrow. The kind of cold that reminded you that some places in the ocean were never meant to be visited.
The sea witch lived in exactly such a place.
Vale swam beside me, his iridescent tail muted in the darkness, his silver hair streaming behind him like a ghost's shroud. He hadn't spoken since we'd left the others, but I could feel his tension in the water between us—the careful way he moved, the alertness in every line of his body.
He was afraid. We both were, though neither of us would admit it. The sea witch was old. Older than any of us, older than the ships that sailed above, older perhaps than the land itself. She'd been ancient when my grandmother was young, and she would be ancient still when my bones had long since turned to coral.
She was also dangerous. Unpredictable. The kind of creature who smiled while she poisoned you, who offered help with one hand while the other reached for your throat.
And she had what we needed.
"Are you sure about this?" Vale's voice was soft, barely audible over the rush of water past our ears. His blue-green eyes flickered toward me, then away, scanning the darkness ahead. "The witch doesn't give gifts. Whatever she asks in return?—"
"I'll pay it." The words came out certain, absolute. I didn't even have to think about them. "Whatever she wants. If it means we can take our girl beneath the surface, show her what we can offer, I'll pay it."
Vale was quiet for a moment, his perfect features troubled in the dim bioluminescent glow of the creatures that lived this deep. Then he nodded slowly, his sharp smile flickering across his face like lightning. "Then I'll pay it too. Whatever it costs. She's worth it."
