He stopped in front of the submersible, perhaps thinking that he could block her only escape route. Even if she could bring herself to leave Emory behind, the idea of trapping herself in that tin ball for him to do with as he pleased made her want to shove it into the ocean.
The stranger made a distinctlymerclicking sound with his throat. “Taken? By who? The little coward who can’t even swim?” His gaze crawled over her. “I see no rope. Seems like you’re unclaimed. A pretty mate, waiting just for me.”
A hot flush of anger combatted the chill in the air. “My mate is no fucking coward. Acowardis someone who thinks they can force someone to be with them when they’ve already told you no.”
“So fierce. I like the fight in you, even if you are scrawny.” He began to move again, his tail rolling across the wet stone to push his powerful body closer. Clementine held her ground even when she felt the shadows of the other podmates, the other minds, enter the cove.
Her heartbeat thrummed so quickly, she couldn’t distinguish the individual beats. A curious sensation of lightheadedness accompanied the adrenaline rush currently wreaking havoc in her system. Of course, she’d been in precarious situations before. Rockslides. Blizzards. Once, she’d even had to scare off a black bear on her own.
But she’d never been threatened. Not by a person. It was an entirely different thing, knowing someone meant to harm you and someone you loved.
And it was an entirely different feeling, knowing that she would do anything to keep her family safe.
Clementine didn’t tear her gaze away from the man approaching her. She didn’t look in the direction she knew the others were. In her calmest voice, she said, “My job is to be a liaison between the EVP and the Grim’s Bay pod, but I promise you, if you come any closer, I won’t hesitate to shove my fist through your brain.”
“Liaison? I thought you were Emory’s mate.” He made a show of looking around, but though his speed slowed, he never stopped moving. Her threat was disregarded completely. “Where is the weakling? Did he leaveyouto defend the cove all by yourself? I shouldn’t be surprised. I always thought he would have been better off where we left him when he was a pup.”
Where they left him?
It took her a second to put the pieces together.Podmates dared him to swim to the bottom of the trench. Podmates left him there to die.
Boys he thought were his friends had dared him to do something they knew was dangerous, only to leave him there for the sharks to finish off when it would have been so easy to help.
She never thought to ask what happened to them. For some reason, she just assumed they’d disappeared or drifted off to live elsewhere in adulthood. Knowing that at least one of them had stuck around filled her belly with a prickly ball of ice — an anger so cold and heavy, it rooted her to the spot.
Something dark descended on her when she asked, “Are you one of the boys who dared him to swim to the bottom of the trench? One of hisfriends?”
His eyes crinkled with a grin, like she said something adorable, something so very, very funny. “He told you that, did he?”
“He did.”
“He was a little weakling then, too. You are much better off with a strong mate.” The intruder paused with about six feet between them. Close enough to strike, but far enough away to dodge if she chose to kick him.
It was a good thing she didn’t need to hit him to get a little well-earned retribution.
Clementine stared down at the intruder and remembered the sound of Emory’s voice when he told her how he’d been stupid to accept the dare, how he thought he was going to die there, how he was broken by the scars the experience left him with.
She thought of his shame when he admitted he still couldn’t swim too deep. She thought of the way he pulled his shoulders back, how he displayed himself, when he promised he could still be a good mate to her if she gave him the chance. She thought of him, the man who was her walls and her freedom, and she wanted nothing more than to give her mate a little bit of justice.
Cocking her head to one side, Clementine asked, “Do you know what a witch is?”
Perhaps thrown by her abrupt change in topic, he took a moment to answer. A frown carved deep grooves in his hollow cheeks. “Human. Witches are human.”
“Witches are human.” Clementine locked her focus on the intruder. The sensation of tautness, of drawing back the hammer of a gun, kept her perfectly still when she added, “And we are just as capable of defending our mates as merfolk are.”
His brow furrowed and his nostrils flared. Perhaps he smelled the cloying, metallic scent of magic in the air, and that was why he opened his mouth to say, “You’reunclai?—”
A splash startled them both. Clementine jumped, surprised to feel a wave of chilly water rushing over her boots. The merman in front of her let out a low shriek when he turned to see the people that had joined them.
Blood rushed from her face so fast, she had to take a step back to steady herself. Her heel slipped on the slick stone, but she managed to catch herself on one of the beams before she landed on her ass.
The merman that had pulled himself onto the rock shelf was big. Bigger than big.
He had the same black and white coloring as her mate, the same long black hair. His was shaven on the sides, the short hair whorled with intricate knotted designs, and his long hair, streaked with silver strands, was braided tightly against his scalp. She thought for a moment that his face was vaguely familiar, but it was hard and raked with scars, making it difficult to pinpoint why.
The rest of him was, too.
His massive body, bulkier and longer than even her mate’s, sported several long claw marks and deep gouges. Whoever he was, he was afighter.
