Page 103

Preston grabbed her hand, a devious gleam in his eyes as he brought his face down and kissed it, lingering far too long.

Gross.

The woman leaned down effortlessly, whispering something into his ear, but Ethan was too far away to hear anything.

Preston’s head hung there for a moment, and Ethan wondered if he was about to vomit, the way he was doubled over, but he eventually righted himself, his face beaming with delight.

“Sorry I’m late,” the woman said, her voice smooth as silk. “I appreciate you waiting. I’ve been so looking forward to this.”

Preston instantly waved it off. “No worries at all, babe.” His eyes drank her in. “Glad you could come.” He rested his hand on the small of her back as he gestured towards the party. “We’re setting sail right now.”

She nodded, her gaze slowly sweeping across the deck towards Ethan and Joyce as she moved toward the bar.

As she passed Ethan, their eyes met.

The moment was quick, but something about it unsettled him. There was something oddly familiar about her, though he couldn't place it.

She held his gaze. Her hazel eyes, flecked with tiny embers of gold, stared back at him. There was something else there, too—sadness, maybe?

And then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

What the hell was that?

Ethan had never seen that woman in his life, but something about the way she’d looked at him made him question if maybe he did.

The roar of the yacht’s engine pulled him back to the moment. They slowly began to pull away from the marina’s harbor, heading dead-straight into the golden setting sun. Preston had been right about one thing—it was definitely going to be one hell of a night.

Ethan just hoped he’d make it through.

The cold waters beneath Bell Harbor Marina teemed with energy. I was deep enough that most sound and light were swallowed from above, but the faint glow of the afternoon sun still filtered down through the murk.

Above me, a lattice of shadows from the docks' underside lay atop the surface. Muffled footsteps drummed across the wooden dock’s planks, and the distant rumble of boat engines roared to life in the surrounding marina.

Floating just below the surface, I tried to block out the noise as I swayed in the gentle current. The black scales of my tail gleamed as they cut through the water, keeping me steady, even if my thoughts weren’t.

I shut my eyes as the Sound’s embrace pressed in around me, quieting my thoughts, even just a little. Usually, I could ease my mind, but tonight was different. Heavier, as if the water itself knew what was coming.

30 more minutes, I thought, grimacing as the familiar pang of hunger stabbed at my insides, a reminder that I’d need to feed soon. Although at this moment, I couldn’t differentiate hunger from fear.

It wasn’t something I’d felt since the night I’d died. Whenever it started to rise within me, I would just push it back down, burying it beneath my rage and hunger.

My jaw clenched.

After everything I’d been through, after everything I’d survived, after embracing my power—I hated that I was still afraid.

All I could think about was how scared I was of fucking it all up. Terrified of what would happen after. Afraid I’d never get over losing Dad. Ethan.

So goddamn afraid that the roots of despair had sunk so deep inside me that the emptiness would never go away. That none of this had been worth it. Afraid to admit that maybe—just maybe—I should have just stayed dead.

No. I had to do this.

For myself. For Dad. Even for Ethan…otherwise, none of this was worth it.

Pressing my eyes shut, I took in slow breaths as the water filtered through my gills, the salty brine familiar and grounding to me now. Slowly, I opened them, gazing down at my hand and flexing my claws. The water pushed against the webbed skin, catching the tug of the current.

I am strong. I am powerful. I am a weapon, I repeated the mantra in my mind.

Somewhere up there, Ethan was probably getting ready, agonizing about what he’d be wearing, nervously checking the time like he always did.