The water was still dim when Jax and Macy left the cave; the sun had only just begun cresting, and the gray-blue sky bled first to pink, then to golden as it approached the horizon. They held hands as they swam. Though it slowed their pace, it was a comfort to them both. They hadn’t seen the razorback during their excursions over the last several days, but Jax would never forget how close they’d come to tragedy.

He was reluctant to allow Macy beyond his reach.

Jax kept close to the coastal cliffs as they moved; the rocks had been their salvation when the razorback attacked, and he’d not risk another chase to reach cover.

They saw a variety of fish on the way — grayfish, spinefish, gulpers, and dozens more Jax had no name for — but it was the basketmouths that caught Macy’s attention. Longer than razorbacks, the basketmouths glided near the surface, their long, flat bodies flowing behind him as they held their wide mouths open. Despite their size, their only prey were creatures so tiny they were nearly invisible.

Finally, they reached the Broken Cavern. It had been years since Jax’s last visit, and he’d forgotten the strangeness of the place. When he’d first found it, he’d thought — in his inexperience — that it was a natural cave, somehow overlooking the perfectly shaped planes of the walls and floor. It seemed, from outside, to be part of the cliff face.

He knew now that it had been built by humans.

Macy’s eyes were wide as she looked from side to side. The floor was flat and deep — as deep as seven or eight kraken, stretched end-to-end — and the walls extended over the water level. It was dark inside, and as they left the last of the meager daylight behind, Jax cast his own glow.

Smiling, Macy moved her gaze over him appreciatively, just as she had two nights before when they joined beneath the starry sky. Though this was neither the time nor the place, his blood heated with arousal.

When they were far enough inside to see the huge chunks of crumbled stone on the bottom, he brought Macy to the surface, blinked the water from his eyes, and swept his gaze about.

The Broken Cavern was the largest cave he’d ever found; the ceiling was so high that it was lost in darkness, but a huge crack allowed the still-gray morning light to filter through it. At some point in its existence, the roof had broken open, dumping stone into the water.

To either side, the walls jutted a body’s length over the surface, like perfectly flat, symmetrical cliffs. Two metal bridges spanned one side to the other. The center of one of the bridges was missing, its edges twisted and bent. Massive chains hung from thick posts set into the tops of the walls.

“All this time, we never knew… How do we not know about these places in The Watch?” Macy’s voice, though soft, echoed off the walls.

“I cannot say, Macy. All of this was made many years ago, and the people who walked here are long dead.”

They swam to one of the ladders set into the wall. Jax allowed Macy to climb the metal rungs first and hauled himself up behind her. The metal groaned under his weight.

Macy stood on the stone walkway, mask in hand and head tilted back as she surveyed the huge chamber. She stepped to the second wall, leaning forward to examine the fading, flaked paint upon it, and pulled back her hood.

The painting had been the only reason Arkon agreed to come here after Jax discovered it years ago. It was in slightly worse condition, now, but the basic shapes were still clear — stretching from one end of the wall to the other, it depicted humans of various shapes and sizes. Time had largely obscured their features, but their joy was apparent. Arkon had said someone created the image by hand in the ancient days.

Jax had always harbored doubts about that… Before meeting Macy, at least.

“This is amazing. What was it used for?” She turned and walked to one of the posts, running her hand over one of the huge chain links.

Jax moved closer to her, glancing up at the broken ceiling. When was the last time a piece had fallen?

“I don’t know, Macy.”

“This stuff is almost like mooring…but I’ve never seen ships big enough for this.”

“There are some, on the seafloor,” he replied distractedly. “You should move back for now, out of sight. Until Arkon has come.”

Macy met his gaze. “Okay. You’re…sure?”

Jax nodded and gestured to the steps cut out in the wall behind them; they led up to the next level, from which the bridges connected the two sides.

Macy climbed the steps and settled herself as far back as she could, leaning against the wall. She placed her mask beside her and folded her hands in her lap.

Positioning himself between Macy and the ladder, Jax crossed his arms over his chest and rested his elbow on a nearby post. An unfamiliar, restless energy flowed through him; he willed his limbs to still.

He was so unused to the feeling that he didn’t immediately recognize it: nervousness.

Soon, he heard movement in the water and shifted his attention toward it.

Arkon’s glow was unmistakable as he swam to the ladder. He climbed swiftly, stopped atop the walkway, and looked at the faded painting. “It has been a long while since I came here.”

“I know. This place is fitting, though.”

Meeting Jax’s gaze, Arkon frowned. “No more vagueness, Jax. It doesn’t suit you. What do you wish to show me?”

Jax turned to the painting. The people it depicted wore clothing that looked nothing like Macy’s, and many of them had different coloring and features, but they were all clearly human. Her people, for better or worse, had made this place, had made the Facility, had made the kraken.

“A human,” Jax finally said.

“Your attempts at humor are strange, Jax.”

“I’m not being humorous. I’ve been away for so long because I rescued a human female from the sea during the last storm and have been living with her since.”

“This…” It wasn’t often Arkon was speechless; Jax couldn’t help feeling a pang of satisfaction at it, despite his nervousness. “Have you gone mad, Jax? You…you’re serious?”

Jax twisted to look behind. “Macy, please come and meet Arkon.”

Her footfalls were quiet as she stepped into the open. She looked into Jax’s eyes before she turned toward Arkon, smiled, and raised her hand in greeting. “Hello, Arkon.”

Features slack, Arkon looked from Macy to Jax. A tiny crease appeared in the center of his brow. “You have a human,” he said, flatly.

“Her name is Macy.”

“Macy.” Arkon tilted his head and parted his lips as though to speak, but it was several moments before he produced a sound. “My apologies if I’m… You must understand, this…this is…”

She laughed; the sound was amplified by the cave, but was no less beautiful for it. She stopped beside Jax. “I understand very well.”

“Of course. Typically, I’m somewhat more articulate. Jax has a reputation for pushing into the unknown, but this is unprecedented, even for him.” Arkon moved a little closer. “You’re wearing one of the suits from the Pool Room.”

Macy settled a hand over her stomach. “Jax gave it to me.”

“What function does it fulfill? I’ve been curious about those suits for a long while.”

“It goes with the mask,” she gestured behind her, though the mask was out of sight, “and together they protect me underwater. Otherwise, I can’t be under for more than about thirty seconds, and anything below a certain depth could kill me.”

“So humans can’t survive underwater…”

“Apparently not,” Jax said.

“You’re a different color than Jax.”

“Yes.” Arkon spread his arms to the sides and glanced down at himself. “Most of us are, even if variations are only slight. Is it not the same for your kind?”

“It is,” Macy replied. “My friend Aymee is tanner than me, and her hair is brown. Some humans have lighter or darker skin, and different colored eyes and hair. I guess it’s just not something I think about much because it’s normal to me. The colors I see on you and Jax are different…and we don’t change colors, either.”

“They do,” Jax corrected, “but it is much subtler, and they cannot control it.”

Arkon moved closer still, stopping immediately in front of Macy.

Jax tensed for a moment. His instinct was to protect, but he trusted his friend.

Lifting a hand, Arkon brushed his fingertips over Macy’s hair. Jax recalled his own curiosity and fascination all too well; neither had truly diminished, but it didn’t make it easier to watch another male touch her.

Arkon’s nostrils flared, and he met Jax’s gaze. “Your scent…”

Jaw clenched, Jax nodded. He hadn’t anticipated this reaction in himself, couldn’t have guessed he’d feel this way, but there was no denying it. Macy was his, and he wasn’t comfortable with anyone touching her.

Arkon dropped his hand and backed away. “You mated with a human?” His expression was too conflicted to decipher.

Jax waited for a flash of shame, for the sense that he’d betrayed his people, the guilt of committing an unspeakable wrong. All he felt was contentment. What shame was there in what he and Macy had shared?

“Um…he can smell that?” Macy’s rubbed her reddened cheeks. “Of course he can,” she muttered.

“This…” Arkon’s eyes darted between Jax and Macy. “This is amazing. Everything…everything worked? It all fit together?”

“Wha…? Oh god.” Macy hid behind Jax.

“Arkon,” Jax growled, baring his teeth.

“Take no offense, please. This is simply fascinating.”

“I’m not offended,” Macy said. “It’s just… People don’t usually talk about that so openly. But, um, yes. We…fit.”

Jax glanced at her over his shoulder, brow low. “If you answer him, it will only encourage him to ask more.”

“My silence didn’t deter you.”

“So you are willing to answer questions that make you uncomfortable?” Jax asked. When she nodded, he moved away, allowing Macy and Arkon full view of one another, and leaned against the wall. “Consider yourself warned.”

Arkon grinned. “Jax, what—”

“She has agreed to answer your questions, Arkon. Not me.”

“Some of them,” Macy said.

A thousand questions flitted across Arkon’s face, but he gave voice to none of them immediately. The tips of his tentacles writhed ceaselessly on the floor. Jax had rarely seen him so excited.

After a long hesitation, Arkon turned to the wall and swept his eyes over the painting. “How did your people create this?”

“With paint and brushes. Something that size, with that much detail, would’ve taken a long time to finish.”

“But…how?” Arkon reached forward, trailing a fingertip over the paint. “When you look at it in little pieces, it’s a mess. A jumble of uneven colors, lacking precision. But when you step back, it somehow comes together to make something…real.”

Macy tilted her head and smiled. “You almost sound like Aymee. She sees more detail in everything than I ever could, especially when she paints.”

“You know someone who can do this?”

“Yeah. She could probably even teach you.” Macy’s smile faltered. “She’s back in The Watch, though.”

Jax didn’t miss the sorrow on Macy’s face, or the way her shoulders drooped. She’d given up everything she’d known for him. This was another reminder that her old life was over, that she’d never see the people she cared about again.

Something splashed in the water below.

“I wish I could—” Confusion halted Macy’s words and creased her brow. She glanced down; a pair of black tentacles were wrapped around her ankles.

Alarm burst through Jax, but before he could move, Macy’s feet were yanked out from beneath her.

Her scream was cut off when her body slammed into the walkway. She clawed at the ground as she was dragged toward the water. Her desperate, terrified eyes found Jax just before she disappeared over the edge.

She called his name, but a loud splash swallowed her voice.

Jax darted forward and leapt off the walkway. He landed in churning water. Bubbles obscured his vision as Macy struggled against her attacker, granting Jax only glimpses of her golden hair and the black skin of a kraken.

Dracchus.

Chest burning with rage, Jax charged into the writhing tentacles.

Macy kicked and thrashed as her captor attempted to subdue her. Jax forced his tentacles between them and sank his claws into Dracchus’s limbs, tinting the water red with blood. Arkon entered the fray a moment later, attacking Dracchus from behind, and together they pried Macy away from his grip.

Skin crimson, Dracchus shifted his effort to Jax.

To the surface, Jax signed to Arkon, thrusting Macy toward him.

Arkon hurried away with her.

Dracchus wound a tentacle around Jax’s throat, dragging him back into the fight.

Rather than pull away, Jax pushed himself toward Dracchus, slamming into him. Their limbs became a tangled mess, tentacles coiling and grabbing, claws slashing, each vying for the advantage. Dracchus sliced open Jax’s cheek; Jax retaliated by jabbing his claws into Dracchus’s ribs.

Jax couldn’t see much, between the dim light and flowing blood, but it didn’t matter. Dracchus wouldn’t back down; he was everywhere, exerting his superior strength, crushing and tearing. Jax didn’t try to overpower his foe. He moved with his foe’s effort, twisting and redirecting momentum, attacking through every opening left by the larger kraken.

In Jax’s rage, the pain of his wounds was distant. Years of rivalry and challenge made no difference now — Dracchus had laid hands on Jax’s mate, might well have done her harm, might have killed her. This wasn’t about who was the strongest, or who was best suited to lead. Their people were not here to witness this battle.

Thick tentacles wrapped around Jax’s abdomen and dragged him close. Before he could escape, Dracchus clamped his hands over Jax’s throat, cutting off the path of his siphons. Jax buried his claws in his opponent’s forearms, but Dracchus didn’t relent.

Jax clenched his teeth. He would not allow Dracchus to touch Macy again. Would not allow her to come to further harm. He needed, more than anything, to get back to her. To know she was safe.

He dropped his hands to the tentacles encircling his waist as the edges of his vision darkened.

If Dracchus meant to have his victory today, there would be a steep price.

Macy broke into a coughing fit the instant her head broke the surface. She hacked up water, her nose and throat on fire. Once her coughing subsided enough, she took in a ragged, burning lungful of air. Her vision — which had been failing due to lack of oxygen — cleared slowly.

The strong arms holding her were not Jax’s.

She called his name, searching for him, but she couldn’t see him in the thrashing water. She only knew he was fighting, and that she was being moved away from him.

“I have you, Macy,” Arkon said. “Please calm down.”

“Where’s Jax?” She tried to turn in Arkon’s arms, but he held her tight.

“Jax has faced worse. His concern is for you, now.”

Macy gulped air desperately as Arkon swam to the wall. He removed an arm from her without loosening his hold and pulled himself up the ladder with seemingly little effort. Only when they were on solid ground did he release her.

Ignoring the trembling in her limbs, the ache in her chest, and the sting in her nose and throat, she crawled to the edge and stared down into the water.

Where is he? Where is Jax?

Arkon sank down beside her. “Are you all right, Macy?”

“I’m fine.”

The water darkened with a huge, fresh cloud of blood, and Macy’s heart seized.

“Jax!” she cried.

Before she could dive in, Arkon wrapped his arms around her waist. She latched onto the edge and pulled against his hold; he grunted with exertion, but she couldn’t break free.

“There’s nothing you can do for him right now, Macy!”

Macy turned her tear-filled eyes upon him. “So why aren’t you helping him? He’s your friend!”

His brow furrowed, and he shifted his head back. “What is wrong with your—” He shook his head. “Do you promise to remain here?”

“Yes! Yes! Please, just help him!”

Arkon’s eyes lingered on her for another second, and then he released her and dove off the edge.

The water was still now, save for the slowly dispersing blood.

Macy blinked away her tears as they blurred her vision, praying for some sign of Jax. She bit her lips to hold in a cry of distress.

The water stirred. She clutched the stone hard enough to hurt her fingers.

Arkon surfaced first, facing away from her. Dracchus’s black head came up next. Fresh cuts glistened on the side of his face in the weak light streaming through the broken ceiling. Macy’s breath caught in her throat.

As more of Dracchus emerged, she realized there was a gray arm wrapped around his neck. Jax surfaced behind Dracchus, his other arm looped beneath one of the larger kraken’s armpits, and he’d grasped his own wrist to lock the hold.

He wasn’t dead.

Relief urged moisture down Macy’s cheeks. Her heart slowed to its normal pace, and the fear that had gripped it eased. It took everything in her to remain still; she’d given her word to Arkon.

Jax swam backward, dragging his captive toward the ladder. Somehow, between himself and Arkon, they managed to drag the large kraken up onto the walkway, though Dracchus seemed to put up no resistance.

Without releasing his hold, Jax turned toward Macy.

Arkon hurried to her side and offered her a hand. She took it and pulled herself up onto shaky legs. Arkon imposed himself partially in front of her.

“You have truly betrayed us, Wanderer,” Dracchus said. His voice was deeper than Jax’s, rougher.

“I have done no such thing,” Jax replied. “But you have attacked someone I care for. Should I kill you now, after you almost killed her?”

“I was not going to kill her.” Dracchus’s amber eyes were fixed on Macy. His expression was hard, betraying none of the pain he must have felt, given his numerous open wounds.

Macy ran her eyes over him. He was bigger than Jax, broader, perhaps slightly taller. Blood oozed from cuts and punctures all over his body, and one of his tentacles lay limp on the floor, sporting a gash so large and deep that it had nearly been severed.

What wounds had Jax taken? There were slash marks on his cheek, scratches on his arms and tentacles, but the rest of his body was hidden behind his captive.

“You dragged her into the water,” Jax said.

“And? She came here by sea.”

She couldn’t tell if it was just the last shred of pride playing on Dracchus’s features or his hatred for her.

“Humans cannot breathe underwater.” Jax’s tentacles coiled tighter.

“Then they should stay away from the water.” Dracchus’s jaw muscles bulged, but he didn’t look away from Macy.

Arkon shifted, breaking her eye contact with Dracchus, and frowned over his shoulder.

“She has as much right to it as any of us,” Jax said, “but you have no right to touch her.”

“And what right do you have to forsake your people for a human, Wanderer?”

“He didn’t,” Macy said.

“What reason would I have to take the word of a human? The Wanderer has refused to hunt, so he has forsaken our survival.”

“One refused hunt is not a betrayal.” She placed a hand on Arkon’s arm and peered around him.

“Humans must be foolish, to believe such. Without food, the kraken will die, and no hunter is more skilled than Jax the Wanderer.” Dracchus bared his teeth as he spoke. A few of them were smeared with crimson.

“And I have always given, despite what you and all the rest think of me,” Jax growled, tugging back on Dracchus’s neck. “I have taken for myself, for once, and it is immediately a betrayal?”

Dracchus grimaced. “What have you told her? Have you already betrayed our home? Our younglings?”

“Jax has told me nothing to endanger your people or your home,” Macy said.

“He has mated with you; you wear each other’s scents. What will come of that? When humans come to seek revenge for the past, will Jax say he did not mean for it to come to such?”

Macy stepped around Arkon, shrugging off his restraining hand, and approached Dracchus. “I never knew of your existence, not until Jax saved me. No one knows. Jax has refused to let me go back, despite his guilt, because he cannot — and will not — betray you. And I chose to stay with him.” She met Jax’s eyes for a moment.

Silence settled over the chamber as Dracchus stared down at her.

“It may not mean anything to you,” Macy continued, “but as much as he cares for your people, he also took responsibility for me. He knows I can’t survive without him, just like you say the kraken cannot survive without hunters, and he has selflessly provided for me. He didn’t have to save me. He didn’t have to keep his word to me. But he has…he’s protected me, just like he’s continued to protect the kraken. With honor.”

Dracchus narrowed his eyes, flared his nostrils, and clenched his jaw. He leaned his head back, finally breaking eye contact with her.

“You speak true. The Wanderer keeps his word…but he has also chosen to mate something other. A human. It is unnatural.”

Macy refused to react to the disgust in his voice, refused to be ashamed for what she and Jax shared.

Jax moved suddenly, swinging Dracchus around and slamming him face-first into the wall. His tentacles wrapped around Dracchus’s arms, pulling them back, as he pressed his forearm against the back of his captive’s head.

“You will not speak of her in that way again,” Jax growled.

Dracchus’s cheek was on the stone, his expression a blend of anger, pain, and stubbornness.

Macy touched Jax’s shoulder. “Don’t.”

“It is less than he deserves, Macy.”

“Didn’t you think the same of me, in the beginning?”

Jax turned his head toward her, frowning. The fury on his face faded.

She ran her hand down his back, careful to avoid his wounds. “You’ve been taught to hate humans your entire life. It’s not something you can stop immediately, and no amount of punishment will change that.”

“You would have died, Macy.” His voice was low, raw, desperate.

Macy glanced at Dracchus. “I…I don’t believe he meant to hurt me. At least to that extent. You didn’t know humans could drown either.”

Jax’s posture was tense with conflict, and Macy couldn’t guess what he meant to do, couldn’t guess at what he’d choose. She had no doubt that he’d kill Dracchus if he deemed it necessary.

“What was your intent toward her, Dracchus?” he finally asked.

“To bring her before our people. As proof of your treachery, and as a warning that we must remain aware of the humans nearby.”

“She will not be brought to the kraken for judgment,” Jax said.

“As I said, Wanderer, you have bested me. I will not defy your will in this. But I will not keep it from our people, either.”

“They will demand an explanation from you, Jax,” Arkon said.

“They will demand justice.” The intensity in Dracchus’s eyes was unwavering. “Whether she is a threat on her own or not, her people have always been a danger to us. Our people deserve to know.”

“I will not bring her before them. They have no say in my choice, no say in her life!” Jax snarled.

“I’ll go,” Macy said, despite her fear. Jax and Arkon hadn’t hurt her, and while Dracchus hadn’t necessarily been gentle, he’d not meant her true harm. If he’d wanted her dead, she wouldn’t have survived her sudden trip into the water. She had to believe the other kraken would act the same.

The chamber was silent, and the gazes of all three kraken weighed heavily upon her.

“You’re not going,” Jax finally said.

“There is enough strain between you and your people. You don’t need this. You don’t…don’t need to keep me secret.”

“I do not know what they will do, Macy. I cannot protect you against all of them.”

“It…doesn’t matter. What would happen if you didn’t bring me? Would you be hunted, banished, imprisoned? I need to go to them, Jax, and…we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

“No. I do not need that place. Do not need them. I will face the consequences, but I will not bring you directly into danger.”

Macy stepped closer and cupped Jax’s cheeks. “I’m going.”

“Do not dishonor her courage, Wanderer,” Dracchus said. “I cannot work against the will of our people, but I give you my word that I will help protect her from unjust harm.”

Jax clenched his jaw, teeth bared, and searched Macy’s face. A faint tremor ran through his limbs. With a grunt, he released Dracchus.

“Whatever may come, Jax, I am beside you,” Arkon said.

Dracchus pushed away from the wall and rolled his neck and shoulders.

Jax turned to face Macy, settling his hands on her upper arms; his grip was just a bit too tight. “You are certain of this?”

Macy nodded, flattened her palms against his chest, and leaned forward to kiss his lips. “I am.”

His frown didn’t fade. He drew her into his arms, holding her head against his shoulder, and wrapped a pair of tentacles around her waist. Macy returned his embrace.

“We are not beholden to them,” he rasped.

“But they are your people, and they are all you have.”

“You gave up your people.”

Macy glanced at Arkon and Dracchus; the two stood silently, watching. Lifting her head, she looked up at Jax. “I have you.”

Tortured emotions played across his face; pain, sorrow, confusion, guilt. “I will do everything to keep you safe.”