Something brushed along the sole of Aymee’s foot. Brows furrowed, she jerked her foot back, tucked it safely beneath the covers, and nuzzled her cheek into the pillow to go back to sleep.

The same gentle touch trailed over her cheek. She scrunched her nose and turned her face away, inhaling deeply. Even half-asleep she recognized Arkon’s scent — a hint of the sea, a taste of the rain, and something indescribably, utterly him. Its comforting familiarity enveloped her.

The touch moved to her neck and changed, becoming the caress of lips over her sensitive skin. She moaned and reached up, her hand encountering something solid — the side of Arkon’s head.

“Wake up, Aymee,” he said.

“Mmm…” She ran her hand along his jaw then down his neck. “Is it morning already?”

“Already? The sun rose two hours ago, at least.”

“Then the sun woke up too early,” she muttered. She sank back into the bedding, curling up under the blanket.

Arkon made no reply; for several, blissful seconds, Aymee drifted closer to slumber. Then his arms slid beneath her, and he lifted her out of the bed, blanket and all.

“Arkon!” She flailed until she looped her arms around his neck. Shoving aside the tangled blanket, she blew hair out of her face and met his gaze.

“You have talked several times over the last few days about how you felt caged-in here,” he said. “The day dawned clear, which means we can go out. You are wasting daylight.”

“The storm’s moved on?”

“Yes, but who is to say when the next will come?” He set her gently on her feet. “We need more meat. Would you like to join me on a hunt?”

“Yes! Why didn’t you just say so?” Excitement thrummed through her, and she hurried away, dropping the blanket. The air chilled her bare skin as she retrieved the diving suit from the open chest at the foot of the bed.

“I tried. You didn’t even stir.”

She walked toward the bathroom, suit draped over an arm, and glanced over her shoulder. “You should talk louder next time.”

Though she’d never seen him wear this particular expression — a brow arched and one corner of his mouth raised — she knew it meant something like you’re kidding, right?

Laughing, she entered the bathroom. After relieving herself, she washed her face, scrubbed her teeth, and pulled the suit on. She tied her hair back as she stepped into the barracks again and retrieved her mask. Arkon remained where she’d left him.

She beamed at him. “Let’s go!”

He caught her arm before she rushed out, commanding her attention.

“We’re not going to be able to speak to each other while we’re under, Aymee.”

“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that.

“I need you to stay close at all times, and if I separate from you at any point, remain where I indicate.”

She nodded, hating the fact that she wouldn’t be able to communicate with him. Her mind leapt back to her first meeting with Arkon — it had been initiated because of a gesture Jax had taught Aymee, a signal.

“What about signs?” she asked. “Hand gestures?”

“There are very few that you would be able to accurately recreate,” he said, “so we will keep it simple.” He extended a single finger and pointed down. “Stay here.”

Aymee stared at him blankly.

He turned his hand palm-up and beckoned with his fingers. “Come. I think those will serve as a good starting point.”

She offered an are you kidding me look of her own, but grinned when his lips twitched.

“What about danger?” she asked.

Arkon flashed his skin yellow.

“A sign I can make.”

“Why don’t you create a gesture now, and that is what it will mean to the two of us?”

Aymee scrunched her mouth to the side in thought. She opened her hand, fingers together, and waved it in front of her chest.

Arkon nodded and mimicked her motion. “So it will be.”

They went to the submarine pen together, and Arkon kissed her — a deep, lingering kiss — before she raised her hood and put on the mask. Aymee dove into the water after Arkon, and when he guided her to take hold of him, she wrapped her arms and legs around his torso. Smiling up at him, she rested her head on his shoulder.

He ducked underwater and propelled them forward. Aymee thrilled at his agility as they sped through the concrete tunnel and entered open water. She was torn between appreciating the beauty of the surrounding ocean — which only increased as they neared the bottom — and watching the graceful, hypnotic rhythm of his tentacles as they flared out and came together.

When they reached the seafloor, Arkon slowed and ran his hands along her thighs. Desire rushed through her. With a grin, she unlocked her ankles and lowered her legs, feet coming down on the uneven rock of the bottom. Arkon only released her fully when she’d found her balance.

The submarine pen had granted a tiny glimpse of the sea as a whole; being here now, on the bottom, with endless blue stretching in all directions, was overwhelming. Sunlight glittered on the surface far overhead, casting thin, ever-shifting shadows on the sand and rock at her feet. Sea plants of countless varieties grew all around — patches of waving grass; green and purple stalks covered in bulbous, floating pods; masses of branch-like plants resembling bushes without leaves.

Creatures of many shapes and sizes moved around and through it all. Their colors spanned the rainbow, and their patterns varied; shimmering scales and sleek skin, stone-like hard shells, opalescent carapaces that shifted hue as they were hit by light from different angles. She slowly swept her gaze across it all and stored the images to memory for later paintings.

She looked at Arkon and smiled.

He returned the smile and motioned for her to follow as he swam toward one of the larger rock formations jutting up from the bottom. Many of the creatures scattered, but as Aymee and Arkon slowed their movement, the creatures resumed their normal behavior. She was content to simply watch as they scuttled and swam in and out of holes and through plants, each following its own survival instinct.

Arkon pointed at the ground. Aymee rolled her eyes, but his expression remained stern, and she let herself sink to the bottom.

Her feet touched down on the edge of the rock formation, just before it gave way to a large patch of sand which was broken only by a few smaller rocks and sparse vegetation.

As he swam away from her, Arkon shifted his color to match that of the water. The effect didn’t leave him invisible, but it broke up his silhouette, making his form difficult to distinguish from the surrounding blue. He floated near the rocks about twenty meters away, at the far edge of the sand, directing himself with only the smallest movements of his tentacles. The nearby sea creatures seemed not to notice him.

A shadow passed over Aymee. She twisted, looking up to find its source, and her heart stilled.

A boat.

Turning, she searched frantically for Arkon. It took her a few panicked seconds to pick out his shape. She waved her hand over her chest.

Danger. Danger!

But his back was to her.

“Damnit!” Her gaze flicked back up to the boat as it continued its course.

It was likely nothing — just a fishing boat from The Watch, perhaps with Macy’s father on board. But she couldn’t see any nets or fishing lines trailing in the water behind it.

“Your heart rate has accelerated,” Sam said, startling her. “Do you require assistance?”

“No. Nothing you can help with, Sam.” Aymee searched for Arkon again, tapping her foot on the ground in indecision. He’d told her to stay put, but what if they needed to leave? What if there were hunters on that boat, searching for them? Arkon still hadn’t looked her way.

She needed to reposition herself to catch his attention.

Aymee stepped off the rock and walked across the sand, careful to avoid the small, swaying plants. She glanced up and finally caught Arkon’s gaze when the ground beneath her moved.

His eyes widened, and his skin flared yellow.

Danger!

The sand under Aymee burst upward, and something huge rose out of it. She tumbled backward, only for the thing to slam into her and send her spinning, annihilating her sense of direction. Fear spiked through her. A cloud of sand obscured the water all around, offering only a glimpse of the beast that had emerged.

The small of her back came down on the edge of the rock formation. Pain arced along her spine. The surrounding water moved in a torrent, and Sam said something, but she couldn’t understand his words over her own rasping breaths. Aymee scrambled away, shoving herself along the bottom, as the creature charged.

It was fully in her view for only a moment, but that was long enough for it to be forever burned into her memory. Wide mandibles extended to either side of its mouth, likely acting as funnels to direct food toward the rows of razor-sharp teeth at the middle, and thick, paddle-like fins pumped along its belly. The hump on its hard-shelled top resembled the surrounding rocks. Its small, black eyes — six of them arranged over the toothy part of its mouth — were directed at her.

In a surge of motion, Arkon slammed into the creature’s belly. His momentum threw off its course, and it spun aside, thrashing to right itself. Aymee’s breath caught in her throat.

Sam’s voice seemed to contain a hint of alarm, but she still couldn’t decipher his words; all her attention was on the struggle before her, leaving room for nothing else.

Arkon latched onto the beast — which was at least as long as him and almost twice as wide — wrapped his tentacles around it, and jabbed its belly repeatedly with his claws. It bucked and kicked its fins to dislodge the kraken, but Arkon didn’t relent. His tentacles coiled tighter. Cracks appeared in the beast’s shell.

Blood clouded the water, mingling with the still-settling sand.

Don’t let him be hurt!

The creature came down on its back, slamming into the rock hard enough for Aymee to feel the vibration of its impact. She scrabbled away, heart in her throat. She couldn’t take her eyes off Arkon.

Bending, the creature waved its mandibles to catch hold of Arkon. He brought both his hands down on its chin, burying his claws in the soft flesh of its underside. More blood flowed as he forced its head down into the rock. Keeping it pinned with one arm, he drew the other back and struck, over and over.

The beast’s frantic thrashing kicked up more sand, impeding Aymee’s vision for a moment.

When the cloud cleared, the creature was still, and Arkon’s siphons flared. There were several wounds on his torso and arms from which trickles of blood drifted into the water. He turned his head, met Aymee’s eyes, and suddenly released the beast, rushing to her.

Arkon grasped her upper arms and ran his eyes over her. Then he drew her into a tight embrace. His tentacles slid around her, and the two of them sank to the bottom, but he didn’t let go.

“Do you require assistance?” Sam asked, his voice finally breaking through as her panic eased. “Would you like me to send a distress signal?”

“I’m fine.” Aymee wrapped her arms around Arkon, holding him just as tightly. She waited until her heart settled and her trembling subsided before she guided Arkon to lean back.

“I’m okay, Arkon.” He couldn’t hear her, but she hoped he’d understand. She placed a hand on his jaw and stroked his cheek. His eyes were dilated, possessing a fearful gleam. Red mist drifted through the water between them. Aymee frowned, dropping her gaze to the various wounds on his chest, shoulders, and arms.

She didn’t know as much about the ocean as Macy, but Aymee knew blood attracted predators. “We need to go, Arkon.” She motioned to his wounds.

He glanced down and frowned but didn’t seem concerned. His hold on her didn’t relent.

“Arkon.” He didn’t look up, so she cupped his face and directed his eyes back to her. “We need to go. It’s too dangerous, and you need to get those taken care of.” To illustrate her point, she gestured to his injuries, then back to the creature he’d just killed, and finally in the direction of the base.

Turning his head, he looked over his shoulder at the beast. When he looked back to Aymee, he drew her against him, tentacles guiding her legs up and around his waist.

Sighing in relief, Aymee tightened her hold on him, crossing her ankles at his back. He kept an arm around her as he swam. With his free hand, he grabbed the dead creature’s tail and dragged it alongside them.

* * *

The base’s infirmary was much smaller than the one in the Facility — this place had three examination tables rather than beds, all of them adjustable in a variety of ways and possessing numerous attachments for tools Arkon couldn’t identify, and several storage cabinets along one wall. Despite its age, everything in the room exuded newness, as though none of it had ever been used; understandable, as the base had never entered full operation. That sense was heightened by the pure white of the overhead lights.

“This isn’t necess—” Arkon bit off his words with a hiss as Aymee dabbed more of the pungent liquid onto one of his wounds. It hurt worse than when the cut had been opened. The ends of his tentacles writhed over the floor.

“How is it not necessary? Some of these look like they need stitches, Arkon!”

Aymee had insisted on bringing him to the infirmary to tend his wounds. He’d delayed, more concerned with taking care of the meat once he confirmed she was unharmed apart from the bruise on her back. They’d hauled the sandseeker out of the water with ropes and hooks, and he’d cut as much meat as he could from it; Aymee glared at him until after he’d stored everything in the freezer.

“I will heal, Aymee,” he replied. “My wounds are minor.”

She gestured to one of the deeper cuts, then carefully cleaned the blood oozing from around it. “This is not minor.”

He winced, muscles tensing.

Better myself than her.

Though they were at least an hour beyond the attack, Arkon’s nerves had little settled. His memory insisted upon reviewing those terrifying moments repeatedly. Fear kept his blood cold, and his hearts thumped. The first time he’d taken her out, and his stupidity had nearly cost Aymee her life.

“I am not human, Aymee,” he said through his teeth, too harshly. “Your standards do not fit me, in most cases.”

Aymee flinched and lowered the cloth. “No, you’re not. Sometimes I forget how different we really are.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, averting her eyes. “But you are wounded and bleeding. I’ve seen people die from cuts smaller than this.”

“And I watched you nearly get killed!” He lashed out with a tentacle, knocking the metal cart — and the medical supplies upon it — to the floor. “If my blood is the price to keep you safe, I will gladly pay it again and again. But if I had been as attentive as I should have you would never have been in danger to begin with.” His shoulders heaved as he breathed through clenched teeth. Had such anger ever flowed through him? Such disappointment in himself?

She’d chosen him as her mate, as her lover. And he had proven himself, at best, an incompetent protector.

She stared at him silently, though her eyes softened, and some of his anger dissipated. “Wasn’t it me who didn’t obey?” Aymee knelt, righted the cart, and replaced the items that had fallen from its top. When she stood up, she dabbed his arm with a fresh cloth.

“You moved to signal me of danger, didn’t you? Do you think I can fault you for that?”

“No.” She set the cloth aside and frowned as her eyes roamed over his numerous wounds.

“I brought you into my world, and I failed to keep you safe.”

“I’m here, Arkon, and so are you. That is not failure.”

“My inattentiveness put you at risk!”

“You once told me that life has little meaning without risks.”

Arkon dropped his gaze and clenched his fists at his sides. Having his own words thrown at him was like a physical blow; though he’d spoken them only a couple weeks before, they’d been uttered during another life. Before he had something too valuable to lose.

He inhaled deeply and took her hands in his, meeting her eyes. “And now life would have little meaning without you, Aymee.”

She stepped closer, tucking her head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her; his Aymee was here, with him, whole.

“I was aware of the danger, just like you knew how dangerous it was for you every time we met on that beach. You’re worth the risk, Arkon.” Her breath was warm against his throat.

Frowning, he slid a hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head, holding her closer. She kissed his neck, and he closed his eyes. Now he understood how Jax must have felt when Macy was attacked by a razorback — the sense of helplessness, the gut-wrenching terror. He tried to push those emotions aside, to calm his frayed nerves, but a lump of dread lingered in his stomach.

“If you weren’t aware of the sandseeker, why were you trying to get my attention?” he asked, combing his claws through her hair. It was an oddly soothing action; a simple, concrete reassurance of her presence, of her wellbeing.

“I saw a boat.”

His hand stilled. Tumultuous thoughts roiled through his mind, a hundred questions and a thousand possible explanations, all lacking any semblance of certainty.

“A fishing boat?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see nets or lines.”

Perhaps they simply hadn’t reached their desired location. That was the logical conclusion, but something inside Arkon said logic might be a hindrance in this situation — what if the hunters were closing in while he attempted to rationalize all this? “Is it normal for them to come to this area?”

Aymee sighed and lifted her head. “I’m not sure. It’s possible, but I never had much to do with it. Macy would probably know.”

If it had been the hunters in that boat — no, they couldn’t afford ifs now, they had to assume it was the hunters — then this place was at risk of being discovered. The chances of it being spotted by someone hugging the coastline were strong, though it depended on the angle of their approach.

“I think it best we have the computer shut down all the lights in the submarine pen and leave them off. If they find this place, we want them to think it is abandoned,” he said.

“I agree.” She stepped back, and Arkon loosened his hold on her.  “Are you sure your wounds are okay?”

He was tempted to pull her close again, but he refrained. “They will be, yes. Most of them will heal by tomorrow.”

She nodded, cupped his face, and tugged him down for a kiss. “I suppose you won’t need to hunt for a while then?”

“So long as you enjoy the sandseeker meat.” He smiled and kissed her again.

Aymee chuckled and caressed his face. “I’m in no position to be picky. Besides, you killed that thing to save me. I’m sure it will be the most succulent meat I’ve ever had.” Her lips spread into a grin. “So long as I’m not cooking it.”