The male turned back and held his gaze. “We won’t return to Latharna. My granddaughter will grow old with another shoal.” He paused, watching as his family slipped into the water. “I can’t imagine you’ll ever find that kind of freedom here. Or live long enough to grow old.” Then he slipped into the water, barely disturbing the surface.
The words cut deeper than Archie expected. The quiet truth of the Wolfendens, written in early graves and unfinished lives—his wife, his parents and the rest of his family. Latharna didn’t let its protectors rest gently.
“You let them go?” Ina demanded. “After all this time, you just let them go?”
“After all this time.” Archie echoed, tiredness crept deep into his bones.
The lights flickered overhead.
Archie swayed, dizziness rolled through him as blood soaked heavier into his jeans. He eased his grip from Malachi’s shoulder and limped towards the door before darkness swallowed them whole. It was time to go home.
As they moved through the boathouse, Ina clicked on the safety of the crossbow. Only then did Archie breathe.
Chapter 26
Malachi
Malachi drove them home in silence.
The road blurred beneath the headlights, familiar bends unspooling on instinct alone. His hands stayed steady on the wheel, even though his body felt hollowed out, like everything that had been holding him upright for the past few hours had finally loosened its grip. The fear was still there, aching deep in his chest, but it wasn’t screaming anymore.
He checked the read-view mirror again.
Dad lay stretched across the back seat, pale and rigid, jaw clenched so tightly his neck strained. Ina’s makeshift bandage was already darkening, the fabric soaking through at a steady pace. Malachi’s stomach twisted every time he saw it.
Tonight was the first time he’d ever seen Dad get physically hurt. Malachi had grown up believing Dad was an invincible tank who would fight the world if it looked at him the wrong way. Tonight had shown that even Dad could bleed.
The thought tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles burned.
Ina had torn her shirt without hesitation, wrapped the fabric around Dad’s leg with brisk efficiency and none of her usual commentary. Dad hadn’t complained once. They’d barely spoken to each other at all. And Dad hadn’t criticised his driving. That more than anything else, told Malachi how bad it really was.
Captain Murdock had gone back to his boat. He’d limped down the harbour, stubborn as ever, bloodied and pale, but determined to get back out to sea. He’d insisted he’d dress the wound himself once he was back onboard The Unsinkable Meara.
Malachi half-expected Ina to argue, to snap that he was being reckless and his wound needed properly tended too, but she didn’t. Neither did Dad. They’d just watched him go.
Malachi didn’t blame Murdock, even if they did. If Murdock hadn’t been there, he would’ve been dragged out of the car before Dad ever made it back. Whatever else he’d done wrong in their eyes, Murdock showed up when it mattered.
Still… he swallowed hard, jaw tightening. Murdock could’ve told him his plan. If the adults in his life stopped treating information like a weapon to be locked away, things might not have ended in bloodshed. He was sick of being protected into ignorance. He wouldn’t allow that to happen again. Not when it came to the Selkie, or anything else from the Otherworld for that matter.
Malachi eased the car off the main road and snaked his way along the stony driveway to Riverside. Gravel crunched beneath the tyres, the familiar sound of home. The moment he killed the engine, Ina got out of the passenger seatwithout a word. She headed straight for the backdoor, stride clipped, tension rolling off her in waves. She hadn’t said a word the entire journey.
“Dad?” Malachi unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out, opening the rear door. “We’re home.”
Dad stirred from a shallow, pain-filled doze, hissing as he tried to sit up. Malachi didn’t give him a chance to argue. He reached in, took his arm and hauled him out of the car. Dad’s weight sagged into him as they shuffled towards the backdoor.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Malachi grunted under Dad’s dead weight.
Dad leaned into his body, making every step feel like his last. Malachi gritted his teeth and adjusted his stance, shoulder burning as Dad’s arm hooked tighter around him. He hadn’t felt this heavy in the boathouse. Adrenaline fuelled him then—now there was nothing left but bone-deep exhaustion.
“I’ll be grand,” Dad muttered, jaw set. The bleeding had slowed, but his body stayed rigid with tension as he leaned on Malachi.
They lumbered up the steps at the backdoor at a snail's pace. By the time they’d reached the top Malachi was fairly sure he’d lost an inch off his height, his shoulder screaming in protest.
Ina had left the door open for them, but she was gone.
Unease curled low in Malachi’s gut. He didn’t know what she was thinking, and that bothered him more than he liked. In the boathouse, she’d been ready to kill all of the Selkie, even the little one.
Protecting Latharna at any cost felt just as dangerous as the Selkie ever had.
