“Here’s where I lose all my dignity in your eyes and tell you it was both.”
She turned his hand over. He tried to brand it all into his memory—her fingers, so delicate next to his work-scarred hands, the way she touched him as thoughhewas the delicate one. “How bad was it, that it scarred like this instead of healing normally?”
“Not a case of how bad the one instance was. More like how many times did I screw up and get myself burned or sliced up. Eventually even shifter healing says screw this.” He flexed his hand. “Besides. Can’t be a chef without a few scars. All the otherchefs would tease me if I turned up looking like I never grabbed a knife by the sharp end before.”
“I’ve seen other shifters with intense scarring before, but that was… not like this.”
He caught the edge of hesitation in her voice. “Not a happy story?”
“It had a happy ending?” She sounded uncertain. And when she looked up, her dark eyes worried, it was bleeding obvious that the question in her voice wasn’t about whatever other shifter she was talking about.
Guilt twisted in his gut. “One bite isn’t going to doom us,” he said, the lie of what he wasn’t saying burning like acid. Nothing Carol did could doom them, because he was already doomed.
“But what if—what if it happens again?”
“I can talk about all the dumb shit I’ve done in the kitchen again. If that helps.”
She smiled—a small, self-conscious smile that didn’t show her teeth. He tried not to be disappointed. “Yeah. It helps.”
“Like I said. I don’t mind a few bites.” He gently brushed her lips, then the corner of one eye. Her gaze sharpened. “But this can’t be helping.”
She went completely still.
“You’re still stuck in your shift,” he continued. “Once you’re back to normal, it won’t be a problem. We can wait until then. If that’s easier.”
An emotion he couldn’t identify scudded across her face like clouds across the sky. “Would you prefer that?”
“I prefer you. However you are.”
“But it would be easier if I looked properly human again?” she asked slowly.
Moss swore, loudly, in the privacy of his own head. He couldn’t tell her the truth. That no matter what she looked like when shewas fully human, her current appearance was hot as hell. What would that make her think?
That he was the sort of monster who preferred her when she was so traumatized she couldn’t even control her ability to shift?
He grimaced. But before he could say anything, Carol flashed a tight-lipped smile.
“Today’s been a lot,” she said, and fuck, she was definitely hiding something. “Maybe we should get some sleep.”
They lay down together. Him on the outside, with her curled in his arms and Maggie between her and the fire. Big spoon, little spoon, and tiny, fire-breathing spoon.
The most uncomfortable silence he’d ever known.
“When I yelled earlier—” Carol broke off.
“I told you. You don’t need to apologize.”
“But it would help to explain. Wouldn’t it?” She sounded uncertain now, and he understood how much effort it must have taken for her to come out with that first broken-off sentence. “Or—no, we said we’d sleep.”
“Talk,” he said gently.
She let out a breath so hard her shoulders caved with the weight of it. “When I said I couldn’t just sit around and wait—I’ve done the search and rescue classes; I know the best thing we can do is find shelter and stay put until someone comes and finds us. Especially now we know the others survived the attack on the plane. I want to swim and search for them, in the direction Maggie showed us before—but they’ll be doing the same thing. They’ll be looking for Maggie and the eggs.”
“And you.”
“And me.” She fell silent for a moment. “This isn’t—it isn’t the first time something bad’s happened to me. It’s just the first time I’ve been around to deal with what happens next.”
Moss froze. Somewhere deep inside him, the kraken stilled as well. He hadn’t even been aware of its movement until it stopped. “What?”
