Bowing my head in submission made my throat scream in pain, but I did it. “Yes, Alpha.”
I winced as he spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Then I stood there, mop in hand, alone with the lingering stench of vomit, mold, and my own failure.
I hadn’t told the alpha everything.
The bloodstone stared up at me from the open pocket of Dad’s bag, reminding me of what I’d left out.
I wasn’t snooping. The zipper hadn’t survived the snake attack and the mad dash across the water. Half the bag’s contents had scattered during the chaos, and I’d been shoving them back in when the small rock caught my eye.
The dragon’s voice filled my head, unbidden and unwelcome.
Surrender peacefully with the artifact, and I will spare the lives of your people.
He was somewhere on this ocean, closing the distance with every passing hour. I could feel him in my bones the way I felt a storm before it broke. He would follow us to the ends of the earth.
And when he found us, I’d need the bloodstone.
My fingers closed around it before the thought had fully formed. The stone pulsed against my hand, warm and eager, like it had been waiting for me to make this choice.
Footsteps echoed down the passageway.
I righted the alpha’s bag on the storage box, closing it the best I could.
As the door to the sick bay flung open, I palmed thebloodstone, hiding it. My stomach roiled when the scent of cooked fish and potatoes hit me.
Mackiel paused in the doorway, his expression guarded, and a plate of steaming food in each hand. Tension thickened the air as he looked everywhere but at me before commenting on my progress. “Looks a lot better in here.”
“I’m not done yet.” Truth be told, I’d barely made a dent. It had taken forever just to mop up the water after the giant snake attack, and the fishmen hadn’t provided any soap. Judging by their stench, I wasn’t sure they even knew what soap was. “A match is likely the only option for getting this place really clean.”
Mack didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile, and that stung more than it should have. My boyfriend chuckled at all my jokes, even the stuff that wasn’t funny. His sense of humor was one of the things I loved most about him, and his laugh had a way of making me feel like I was enough, exactly as I was, no modifications required.
Its absence was deafening.
He’d barely looked at me since learning about my dreams. Mack’s anger was quiet. It lived in the things he didn’t say, the touches he didn’t offer, the space he put between us that was normally nonexistent. And it was so rare that I had no defense against it.
I’d rather he yelled. Yelling, I could handle. This careful, measured distance was killing me.
No matter how angry he was, he wasn’t cruel. He could have let me starve down here, but there were two plates in his hand.
“Please tell me one of those is for me.”
He offered me a plate, and I took it. Then he strode in and sat on a storage box, settling his plate on his lap. I sat beside him, the weight of the bloodstone in my hand feeling like a noose around my neck. I covertly slid it under my thigh and settled both hands under my plate.
The odd texture beneath my fingers drew my attention. The meal hadn’t been served on a plate after all but on a large seascallop shell, chipped on one edge and cracked on the other. I ran my thumb across the surface, enjoying the contrast of rough and smooth.
“Creative way to serve food.”
Mack glanced at his own shell and nodded. “They don’t believe in silverware. Fingers only.”
“How incredibly civilized.” I poked at the stew, trying to determine whether it was edible. “Are we sure they didn’t poison it?”
“We poured our portions from the same pot the fishmen were eating from.” He scooped a handful into his mouth and chewed. On any other day, he might have made a show of tasting it first, pretending to keel over just to mess with me. Today, he shrugged. “Tastes like fish.”
I hated the flatness of his voice almost as much as the stupid rock digging into my leg.
I broke off a bite of flaky white meat and popped it into my mouth. Not bad. Suddenly ravenous, I shoveled in a bigger bite.
“Careful, there are bones,” Mackiel warned.
