Macy tightened her hold on Jax as they submerged. She waited for water to fill her ears, nose, and mouth, to drag her to depths that couldn’t be penetrated by light, but she was met with only silence. Her lungs filled with fresh, clean air.

The light in the mask made it difficult to see through the dark water surrounding her.

“Sam, could you turn off the inside light?”

It turned off instantly.

Ice flowed through her as she was plunged into darkness. Her heart thundered, and her breath grew shallow. The ocean was terrifying enough, but the ocean in total darkness?

“Would you like the external lamp switched on, or would you prefer to activate night vision?”

A gentle glow filled her vision. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and another few to understand the source of the illumination — Jax. His stripes emitted soft, blue light.

“I…don’t need anything right now, Sam.”

She stared at Jax in wonder as they descended toward an opening on the cave wall, near the floor — a tunnel. Her hold on him strengthened while he guided them through the opening. Keeping an arm around her, he pulled them along with his free hand and tentacles, maneuvering around the turns and avoiding jutting rocks.

Macy was glad she hadn’t been brave enough to attempt this route on her own. She had no doubt she would’ve drowned.

Soon, she saw a light ahead; Jax’s skin dimmed as they neared. They emerged from the tunnel soon after.

The ocean was as she’d never seen it before. Rays of morning sunlight streamed through the surface at harsh angles, lighting up the sea floor below — swaying seagrass, sand, and colorful bits of coral. In the shaded spots, the plants gave off their own light, all in various shades of blue. Fish and other sea creatures — some that she’d never seen before — swam alone and in schools or scuttled along the bottom.

She raised her eyes and looked straight ahead. It was so open and blue, so beautiful, so terrible, and she was an insignificant thing that could be swallowed up at any moment.

Except she had Jax. Jax, who’d sworn to keep her safe. This was his world, and she trusted him.

Admitting that to him — and to herself — had eased her fears. She didn’t have to carry it on her own. Jax was strong, and he was here to lessen her burden, to ensure she wasn’t crushed beneath it.

Macy turned her head toward him. He was watching her intently, and hadn’t loosened his hold on her.

“I’m okay,” she said.

He shook his head and gestured to the side of his head — where his ear hole was located.

He can’t hear me.

She released her hold on his neck and placed a hand on the center of her chest. With her other hand, she pointed down.

Jax nodded and swam toward the bottom. His movement was strange, in open water; he’d fan out his tentacles and bring them all together, thrusting himself forward. Each thrust propelled them far, their speed diminishing just before he spread his tentacles again. They reached the seafloor within seconds. Various creatures scurried away, kicking up clouds of sand as they sought shelter amidst rocks, pieces of coral, and clumps of grass.

Macy grinned and lowered her legs from his hips, patting his arm. He hesitated, eyeing her skeptically, but released his hold on her.

She dropped the last bit of distance. Her feet touched the bottom lightly, and though she couldn’t feel the grains of sand through the suit, it was an amazing experience.

She was walking on the ocean floor.

The joy she’d known as a child came roaring back. It had been so long since she felt such exhilaration, such delight, so long since she’d reveled in discovering something new.

Jax remained close as she stepped around the plant life. She bent down and brushed her fingers over a shell tucked in the seagrass. Picking it up, she raised it for inspection, releasing a yelp when at least a dozen legs sprouted from the opening. Macy dropped the shell and stumbled back.

A tentacle wrapped around her waist, halting her backward momentum. She glanced at Jax first — he wore an amused smile — and then behind her. Jagged rocks jutted from the seafloor just centimeters from her heel.

He righted her, and she patted his tentacle. When he released his hold, she turned her attention down, searching for the shelled creature. It was about a meter away, sending up puffs of sand as it dug a hole to bury itself in.

Jax caught her attention and waved for her to follow as he swam away. She felt a moment of alarm — he was her safety, her rock, and walking on solid ground wasn’t nearly the same as swimming in open water, dealing with currents and riptides and…

He won’t let anything happen to me.

Keeping her eyes on Jax, Macy kicked off the sea floor. She swam after him, and any lingering worry faded away; with the suit, she glided through the water and caught up with him quickly.

He increased his pace gradually, swimming just to the side and ahead of her. She pulled ahead briefly between each of his powerful thrusts — and she’d been right, it was like flying, now more than ever. But her attention returned to Jax over and over; he moved with undeniable strength and grace, and seeing him here — in his natural environment — was as wondrous as the ocean itself.

Jax glanced at her over his shoulder. Macy smiled, her stomach fluttering with excitement. She hadn’t felt so giddy since her childhood. When he returned the smile, her excitement took a different turn; the sensation in her belly spread until she was warm all over.

“I have detected a fluctuation in your body temperature. Do you—”

“Not now, Sam,” she said, blushing.

As Jax drew alongside her, he caught her hand and pulled her close. He slipped his arms around her; she wrapped her arms and legs around him without conscious thought.

Their momentum slowed, and for a moment, they seemed to drift on the current. Then they darted forward, faster than she’d thought possible. Water rushed by; Jax spun, giving Macy a dazzling show of light as the sparkling surface tumbled around her, alternately above and below, until she wasn’t sure which way was up. She laughed, pressing her head to his shoulder.

His spin gradually ended, and they came to a stop. Macy pulled back to look at Jax. He grinned at her, displaying his sharp teeth, and it didn’t unsettle her. There was genuine delight in his expression.

He shifted so they were both upright, and Macy withdrew her legs from his waist. His gaze flicked to something over her shoulder, and he nodded in the same direction. Macy turned her head to see what he had gestured toward.

Huge stalks of seaweed swayed in the current behind her, anchored to the seafloor by thick stems. Sunlight beamed through the large leaves, granting them delicate violet and crimson glows. The plants stretched as far as she could see, so dense in some places that they appeared impenetrable, and a variety of creatures swam in and out of the leaves.

It was an underwater forest.

“Wow.” She looked back to Jax and pointed toward the seaweed.

He released her, and once there was a little space between them, he pointed at her and then down at the ground. She nodded and allowed herself to sink to the sea floor. Jax cast her a glance over his shoulder and disappeared into the seaweed forest.

Macy frowned, sweeping her gaze over the stalks for any sign of him. What was he doing?

“Jax?” she called, before remembering he couldn’t hear her. She stepped closer.

The fish continued their business, and small creatures scurried along the bottom, darting from stalk to stalk. The leaves cast tinted shadows on the seafloor around Macy’s feet. She raised a hand and pushed aside the seaweed to peer beyond.

Macy crossed the boundary, brushing leaves as she moved farther in. Seagrass was thick around her feet. Creatures fled at her approach, seeking shelter in the surrounding seaweed.

“Jax?”

Something grabbed her shoulder.

Macy shrieked and spun around.

It took her a moment to realize she was looking at Jax; his skin matched the seaweed — a blend of red and purple — right down to its apparent texture. He frowned, eyes narrowed.

She’d seen him change color before and assumed it had something to do with his emotions, but she’d never seen his skin like this. If he hadn’t touched her, she would never have noticed him. He was almost perfectly camouflaged.

And he didn’t look happy.

He took her hand and led her deeper into the forest. The color of his skin rippled, reverting to normal. She touched his shoulder just to see if it would change again.

Jax glanced at her, brow lifted in question, but he continued forward, keeping close to the bottom.

Macy smiled and squeezed his hand. “Don’t be mad at me.”

He squeezed her hand back, gently, and pointed up.

She tilted her head back, and her breath hitched in her throat. Here, amidst the seaweed, the light was even more intense. The surface broke it into shafts, like the beams of sunlight that sometimes penetrated the clouds after a storm. The backlit, ever-shifting leaves reminded her of the panes of the stained-glass window back in The Watch — the one that had been put together in the lighthouse to commemorate the fallen colonists of years gone by.

The result was an array of dancing color — whites, blues, greens, reds, and purples — unlike anything she’d ever seen.

Macy lowered her gaze to watch Jax as they swam. The multicolored shadows on his skin seemed fitting; he could change into any of those colors, she was sure; perhaps even all of them at once.

They spent hours exploring the seaweed forest and the surrounding area. It wasn’t until Macy felt hollow pangs of hunger that she caught Jax’s attention, rubbing her stomach.

He nodded, and they swam back toward the cave.

Before they reached the underwater cliffside, he gestured to her again — just a bit more forcefully than before — and pointed at the floor. She guessed that he had meant for her to stay put the first time. She smirked and made to move forward.

He didn’t gesture or point again. Instead, he glared at her.

Macy chuckled and moved back. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

He’d left her on the edge of a shallow drop-off. She watched as he moved to the rocks and grass below. Fish darted away from him, but he didn’t pay attention to any of them. He perched himself atop one of the larger rocks, and his skin changed instantly to match the stone. If she didn’t know any better, she might’ve thought he’d vanished; he looked like part of the rock itself.

She was hungry, but her hunger didn’t outweigh her curiosity as time passed. Jax had brought her a lot of food over the last few days, and she was eager to see how he hunted, eager to see him in action.

Little by little, the fish returned to the area around Jax. He remained so still that she almost doubted he was there.

A school of large, orange fish — gulpers, to the people of The Watch, because their mouths opened wider than their bodies — swam near the rock.

The sudden movement was too fast for Macy to fully register. Jax’s tentacles flared out, enveloping the gulpers like a large net. In a blur of frantic motion, dozens of the fish scattered in all directions, regrouping several meters away.

Jax returned to his normal coloring. For several seconds, he was a mass of writhing tentacles. Then he swam back toward her. The three bright orange fish he’d caught, each wrapped in a tentacle, were easy to spot against his dark skin.

“That was amazing!” Macy grinned at him as he neared.

Smiling, he pointed toward the cave.

She glanced back at the tunnel and bit her lip. The thought of braving the dark, narrow passage on her own sent a chill along her spine.

One problem at a time.

The open ocean had pushed her courage far enough, for now. She turned back to Jax and extended her arms. He embraced Macy without hesitation and swam into the tunnel with her.

When Sam asked if she wanted light, she declined, preferring to bask in Jax’s glow.

They exited the tunnel and broke the surface soon after.

“Sam, release the mask,” she said.

“All right. Field generator deactivated,” Sam said.

There was a soft hiss as the seal was broken. She yanked off the mask and tugged her hood down as Jax carried her through the water. As they reached the island’s edge, Macy tossed the mask atop the spare clothing. She turned to Jax, threw her arms around him again, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Jax!” Lingering exhilaration thrummed through her.

She would never have thought it possible to feel that way, especially after she’d given up the sea, but this had been more than she could’ve imagined. The guilt of her sister’s death had weighed down Macy’s heart for years. She’d suffered stares of pity and accusation, had tormented herself with what-ifs. Today, for the first time in so long, Macy had lived.

Because of Jax.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun. It was wonderful!” Macy lifted her head and pressed her lips to his.

Jax tensed. She only registered what she’d done when his eyes widened.

Macy quickly pulled back. “Oh.”

He searched her face, his brow drawn in confusion, and — before she realized what he meant to do — he leaned down and kissed her.

She clenched his shoulders as his mouth pressed against hers; his lips were soft and firm at once, and heat spread across her face and sparked fire in her belly.

This was what Camrin’s kiss had been missing. This unfamiliar, unexpected, overwhelming sensation that stole the breath from her lungs. She forgot everything around her; she and Jax may well have been the only two people in the world. Jax’s lack of skill was meaningless, because his slightest touch sent pleasure spiraling through her.

Macy closed her eyes and gave herself to the kiss. It was a whispering caress, a soft brush of mouths, and their breath mingled as they explored one another.

Jax’s tentacles slid up her legs and over her back, rubbing gently. He drew her against him, and she felt the rapid thumping of his hearts, melding with her own heartbeat through their chests.

The prick of his claws on her hip and the graze of his teeth heightened her awareness of him; something sparked within Macy, something dark and forbidden. Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and her sex pulsated with need.

Macy opened her mouth and touched her tongue to his lips.

Jax’s entire body jolted. He pulled away abruptly, sat her on the edge of the island, and sank into the water to his shoulders.

Confused and aroused, Macy stared at him. Her lips tingled from the kiss while her skin cooled in his absence. She pressed her fingers to her mouth briefly.

“Jax?”

His eyes were large, pupils dilated, but he held her gaze. His nostrils flared. “We should tend the fish.”

“Are…are you okay?”

“Yes. Kissing is…overwhelming. It feels good, but it is…intense.” He pressed his lips together and lifted three of his tentacles out of the water. The fish writhed in his hold as he swam around the island and deposited them in the empty bucket near her shelter.

She stood on unsteady legs, only now aware of the weariness in her limbs. Their ache wasn’t as pleasant — or as dire — as the one between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, hoping to relieve it, but it only strengthened.

Macy didn’t know what had driven her to kiss Jax, but she knew things between them had changed drastically.

Jax lay on his back beside Macy, tentacles in the water, and gazed up through the cave opening. Countless stars glittered against the deep violet of the night sky. The fire had burned down to little more than a few spots of glowing orange Macy called embers. It still produced pleasant warmth, and she remained nearby.

When she’d been ready to remove her suit, Jax turned around without argument; his self-control after their kiss had been tenuous enough that he didn’t trust himself to so much as think about her naked body. The touch of her tongue against his lips had forced his shaft to extrude like he was an adolescent.

As much as he wanted her, the decision was Macy’s. When she was ready — if ever — she would make it known. Until such a time, he needed to be the master of his own body, needed to control his desires, and needed to respect her right to choose. It didn’t matter how strongly his cock throbbed.

He’d remained in the water as she cleaned and cooked the fish, waiting until long after his arousal had cooled before daring to venture close.

They’d lapsed into companionable silence.

Now, as they watched the stars, they were treated to the music of the waves outside, a song backed by the constant flow of the waterfall. Jax had spent his life underwater, and would never have guessed at the abundance of beauty above the surface.

Jax turned his head to Macy. Her skin and hair were pale in the starlight, her eyes bright with its reflection.

He couldn’t possibly have imagined the beauty of the surface world.

What would his people say about her, about his attraction to her? Would they find it unnatural, distasteful, a betrayal to their kind? Or would they understand her appeal?

The questions did not long remain on his mind; he didn’t care what they thought. Macy was his. A treasure he would keep to himself. She had given him a taste of something he’d sought for years, something he’d never discovered during his wanderings — contentment.

As though sensing his gaze, Macy looked at him and smiled. “What?”

“I have never encountered anything like you, Macy.”

She chuckled. “Because I’m human?”

He smiled; he enjoyed the sound of her laughter. “I doubt there are other humans like you.”

“Hmm…I’m not quite sure what to say to that. I mean, there are probably plenty of people like me. I’m nothing special.” She rolled onto her side and propped her head on her hand. Golden hair fell around her arm, and Jax longed to touch it again. “Why are you called the Wanderer? Despite the obvious.”

“It is because of the obvious. I’ve always pushed boundaries, since I was a youngling, have always sought new places. I had explored every accessible part of our home by my tenth year, and a few places thought to be sealed forever. The adults attempted to break my curiosity, but they never could. Once I was an adult, I set out on my own, farther than the others would dare, because I had to know what was out there. I couldn’t confine myself to my den and do nothing between hunts.”

“Are there others like you?”

Jax shook his head. Arkon understood, but his calling was different, his urge to explore focused within himself rather than on the enormity of the sea. “That is why I am the Wanderer. Kraken venture out to hunt, sometimes quite far, but always in groups, and always to places they know.”

“Do they still try to stop you?”

“They see no point in it, anymore. So long as I contribute as I can, they are content to allow me my strange behavior. I am an accomplished enough hunter that most of them show me respect, regardless.”

“How often do you need to contribute? You’ve been here for a while…are they going to wonder where you are?”

“If a hunt is called when I am there, I go along.”

Except for the last one…

“Some might wonder where I am,” he continued, “but they know well enough by now…I will return when I do, and if I do not return, it is because I am dead. Some would think me deserving of it for my foolishness.”

She frowned. “Do you have any friends? Anyone who would worry?”

“Yes. There is one.”

Her lips lifted into a smile. “Are you going to tell me?”

“He is called Arkon,” he said. “We became friends as younglings. He was considered…odd by the others.”

“Like you.”

Jax nodded. “For different reasons, but yes. We became friends because we were different from the rest, and we defended each other from other males who sought to challenge us.”

“Why would they challenge you?”

He flicked his tentacles through the water. “Because they thought different meant weak. Most learned their lesson, in time. I was stronger and faster than most of them, and Arkon was the cleverest of us. When he fought, he held his own, but he’d often confuse the others into backing down before it ever came to that.”

“How would he do that?”

“He knows words the rest of us don’t understand. And when he couldn’t talk…he has his own way of moving, and it throws many off-guard because they cannot easily predict what he will do. As we got older, he showed little interest in such contests, and he simply stopped acknowledging challenges. Eventually, everyone left him alone.”

“What does he do now?”

Jax turned his head to look back at the sky. In some ways, the stars, with their barely perceptible patterns, reminded him of Arkon’s work, but that didn’t help him describe it to Macy.

“When he isn’t trying to draw new information out of the Computer, he makes…patterns. Designs. With rocks and anything else he can find.”

“An artist.”

A whisper of movement called his attention back to her briefly; she’d shifted onto her back and returned her gaze to the stars.

“I think my friend Aymee would like Arkon,” she said. “She’s an artist, too, and even though people don’t need art like they do food and water, the things she creates make people smile. She works, just like the rest of us — she’s one of the doctor’s apprentices — but she really comes alive when she’s creating.”

Macy raised her hand with one finger extended, moving it as though she were tracing lines between the stars. Jax’s eyes followed.

“When we were young, Aymee and I would look at the stars, just like we are now, and we’d connect them to make pictures. Dogs, or sailboats, or spoons, anything we could imagine.” She let her hand fall to her stomach.

“I think Arkon would like our people to enjoy what he creates,” Jax said. “He is often unsatisfied by his creations, always looking to the next thing. But most of the kraken do not understand it enough to enjoy it…or they simply do not try. He would like your Aymee.”

“I think he would, too. I think she feels as trapped in The Watch as I did.”

“Do you feel trapped, now?” Jax’s throat tightened, and he stilled his tentacles; the question spawned fear in him because he couldn’t predict her answer with any certainty.

After a long silence, Macy shook her head. “No. Had you not agreed to take me out with you, I would, but now… I think I’m happy.” Her brow furrowed. “I miss them, and that won’t change, but I can live with it.”

Jax rolled onto his side, leaning on his elbow in an imitation of her earlier position. From his slightly higher vantage, he was granted a full view of her; she’d put on a pair of loose pants and a long-sleeved shirt with buttons down the front, but he couldn’t forget the body that’d been teased by her dress and the diving suit.

Quiet stretched between them; Macy watched the stars, and Jax watched her, marveling at the play of starlight on her smooth skin. Though he’d seen living humans from afar, and the holograms in the Facility up close, he hadn’t been prepared for the wonder of Macy — her look, her feel, the sensations she stirred in him.

“Do humans dream, Macy?”

Macy turned to mirror his position. “You mean while sleeping?”

“Any time.”

“Like daydreaming? Hopes? Thoughts of the future?”

“All of them,” he replied, but he hadn’t asked her the right question. “What do you dream of?”

“I…don’t know.” She glanced at the ground between them, brow drawn. “I dreamt of sailing and fishing with my father when I was younger, but after Sarina…” Her shoulders lifted and dropped. “I expected to join with Camrin, but I don’t know anymore.”

“But Camrin was never your dream. What…were your hopes? Your daydreams?”

“I had none. I’d resigned myself to the reality of my situation…to the consequences of my choices.” Her eyes met his. “Dreaming would only lead me to disappointment.”

“What about now?” He held her gaze. “You’ve made a different choice than you intended. Has your situation changed enough for you to have hope?”

“Honestly, Jax…I don’t know. In a way, I’ve resigned myself to this, too.” She turned her face toward her shelter. “I accepted this as my only choice because you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t let me go. I decided to make the best of what I got.”

He’d known throughout, had known he denied her true choice. Even now, their closeness — their developing relationship — couldn’t be taken as it seemed, because he had forced her to choose this situation. The dull thump of his hearts rose over the sounds of moving water.

“But if I would have been given a choice,” she continued, “if I had known, I would have chosen this. It’s…weird, really, because I’m pretty much trapped in this cave, but I feel freer than ever. That’s because of you. I know my decisions — and my silence — were my own fault, but if I’d know, I would have chosen this, Jax.”

His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath and slowly expelled it. “I was wrong when I said I only had one friend.”

Macy smiled and brushed the tips of her fingers over his cheek. “What about your dreams, Jax?”

Her touch was warm, gentle, soothing; he craved more of it.

“In my dreams, I swim farther than I have ever gone. Farther, maybe, than is possible. To places that must exist only in my mind. To…cities below the surface, built for kraken, cities in which my people can thrive. But they never go to those places in my dreams, just as they will not journey with me while I am awake.”

“Why don’t they go with you?”

Jax lifted his gaze and swept it across the stars. “Because most kraken fear what is unknown to them. I know we cannot forever remain in our home, and we must seek new places to den, new places to hunt…and I do not fear the unknown.”

“And no one will go with you? Not even Arkon?”

“His focus is within himself. He struggles with things I do not fully understand…though I know they are somehow important. The others are too set in their ways. They were taught that straying too far meant death, and that I was not of my right mind.”

Macy lowered her head into the crook of her elbow. “I’d go with you. It may not mean much, but I would.”

He lowered himself into a similar position to keep his eyes at the same level as hers. “It means more than I can say.”