Macy woke with a groan. Her entire body ached, and her head was on the verge of splitting in two. She pressed a hand to her temple. She hadn’t felt this terrible since…

Camrin!

She opened her eyes. Bright sunlight blinded her; she squeezed her eyes shut again and turned away.

The ground beneath her was hard, and running water was splashing into a pool somewhere nearby. She flattened her hand on the coarse rock beneath her and slowly opened her eyes to slits. Sunlight filled her vision, poured over her, heating her skin and the stone she lay upon.

Where am I?

Lifting her head as her eyes adjusted, she glanced to the right and frowned. She was on a small island. All around her were storage containers — wooden barrels, a metal lockers and crates, and several chests — some clearly from the time of the colonization. They were brimming with an eclectic collection of items — clothing, fishing rods, hand tools, buoys, bowls, jars, torn strips of canvas from a sail, even a few children’s toys.

Beyond the island was a small waterfall, spilling from a high cliff into a nearby pool. Thick vines hung over the rock to either side of the water. She followed the run-off with her gaze to the deeper, darker water it flowed into. A few jagged rocks jutted from the depths, but it was all shadowed by the stone wall and ceiling hanging over it.

She swung her gaze around the area; the stone walls were on all sides.

She was in a cave.

Directly overhead was a large opening in the ceiling, allowing her a glimpse of the bright blue sky, but she was otherwise surrounded by rock and water.

How did I get here?

“I…I should be dead,” she rasped. Gathering tears blurred her vision and stung her eyes, and her throat was dry. She should’ve drowned. Why had she been spared — again — when Sarina was never given a chance at all?

Sitting up, Macy drew her knees to her chest and hugged her legs close. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

What of Camrin? Had the sea claimed him, too?

Her sobs, though muted by the rush of the waterfall, echoed off the walls of the cavern. Shuddering breaths shook her shoulders.

Not again.

She couldn’t have another tragedy on her shoulders. Couldn’t bear the guilt. Camrin had taken Macy out to surprise her, to win her over…to join with her.

If I had said no, if I had told him the truth, we’d still be safe in The Watch.

A splash, different from that steady sound of the waterfall, broke through her heavy thoughts. She raised her head with a start, searching the shadows as she wiped the moisture from her eyes. The sound had come from the darkest part of the cave.

The water was in constant motion, lapping against the edges of the island and making it difficult to determine where the disturbance had occurred.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She wasn’t alone. Whatever was there, it was watching her, and she had nowhere to go. Macy was trapped, vulnerable to whoever — or whatever — was waiting in the dark.

Was it the stranger who’d collected all these things? Was he the one who’d rescued her?

Macy sniffled and ran her hands up and down her arms to coax the chill of fear away. She scooted closer to the island’s edge.

“Hello?” she called. “Camrin? A-Are you there?”

The shadows near one of the protruding boulders shifted.

She licked her dry, rough lips. It wasn’t Camrin.

“Hello? Would you…would you please come out?”

A hand emerged from the shadows and slapped against the boulder.

Macy flinched, falling onto her backside with her legs splayed in front of her, but she couldn’t look away.

In structure, it was like a human hand — four fingers and a thumb, the same number of joints and comparable proportions — but the similarities ended there. The skin was gray, paler on the webbing between the long, claw-tipped fingers. Powerful tendons stood out along the back of the hand as the creature pulled itself forward.

It emerged from the shadows slowly. Macy moved her gaze up the muscled arm, over the dark, jagged stripes on its shoulder, and onto a broad, powerful chest. Its musculature was humanlike, despite its odd skin, but the creature was larger than any man Macy had ever seen.

Its build screamed male.

His face was surprisingly human, as well, with a broad, strong jaw and full lips. There were two slits where his nose should’ve been; they flared with slow breath. More stripes ran from side-to-side over the top of his head. There was a tube-like opening behind each of his cheekbones, near where his ears should be, and his eyes…

She met his gaze; her curiosity was reflected in his. Set beneath a heavy brow, his eyes were bright green with long, horizontal pupils. She’d never seen anything like them. They were unusual, but they suited him.

As unsettling and strange as this creature was, Macy didn’t feel threatened by him; wouldn’t he have harmed her already, if that was his intent?

“Did you save me?” she asked.

He cocked his head. His down-facing, tubular ears shifted toward her. He advanced through chest-high water. Anything below the surface was lost in the darkness.

“Can you understand me?”

His brow lowered. “Why would I not understand?” The creature’s voice emanated from his chest; deep and rumbling.

Macy’s eyes widened — not solely at the sound of his voice, or that he spoke English, but because she glimpsed sharp, pointed teeth in his mouth. She wrapped her arms around her legs again. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

His gaze dipped to her legs. “Not unless you give me reason.”

Dread flowed through her, but she swallowed it back. “You saved me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I have never seen one of you up close.”

“One of…me?”

His eyes roamed over her again, pupils flattening further as he moved fully into the light. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, and his torso angled forward as he approached.

Was he walking along the bottom or swimming? There was an unevenness to his movement that Macy couldn’t place, an oddness to his rhythm she’d never seen.

“Human.”

“You’ve never seen…never seen a human before?” she asked, trailing her gaze over his broad shoulders and chest. His skin was a few shades darker at his shoulders, sides, and waist, naturally drawing her eyes lower.

“I said I have never seen one of you up close. Aren’t those things on the sides of your head for listening?”

Macy narrowed her eyes. “They’re called ears. How do you know English if you’ve never been around humans?”

“What is English?”

“The language we’re speaking.”

He narrowed his eyes, mimicking her expression. “It is the language my people have always spoken…in the air.”

Macy frowned. How was it this creature knew her language? The old records had reported no sapient life on Halora before the colonization; had they missed something?

“Who are your people?”

“They are of no concern to you.”

Shifting onto her knees, Macy crawled closer to the water. “Do you have a name, at least?”

His wide mouth turned down in a slight frown. “I am called Jax, human. The Wanderer.”

Somehow, she found a touch of humor in the situation and smiled. “My name isn’t human. It’s Macy. The Gardener.”

A scintillating flash of red-brown rippled over his skin. “You mock me, human?”

Macy stared at his body in stunned fascination for several seconds before forcing her eyes back to his. “N-no. Why would you think I’m mocking you?”

“Wanderer. Gardener,” he said through bared teeth. The black stripes on his head and shoulders shifted to a vibrant indigo. “You are creating words to insult me.”

She retreated from the edge of the island. He spoke the same language as she did, and many of his features were humanlike, but he wasn’t human. Clearly, a communication barrier remained between them.

“I didn’t make it up. A gardener is someone who tends to plants. That’s what I do.”

Jax eyed her with scrutiny. “Why would plants need tending? They are capable of growing on their own.”

“We need a lot, for food. We plant seeds, water them, and remove dangerous plants that would kill our crops.”

“For food?” His upper lip peeled back. “No wonder your teeth are so strange.”

“Yours are just as strange to me.” Though frightening might’ve been a more accurate word.

His expression altered, brow and mouth softening; he looked almost thoughtful. His skin reverted to gray.

“Why does your skin change color?” she asked.

“Doesn’t yours?”

Macy glanced at her arm. It was tan from hours in the sun. “No. At least, not like yours.”

“It just does. It is the same for all kraken.”

“Kraken? Is that what your people are called?”

“It is what we call ourselves.”

“Are there many of you?”

Jax’s features hardened, and he moved forward, gliding through the water with that odd rhythm. The ridges of his abdominal muscles emerged first, followed by his lower half, glistening in the shaft of sunlight from above.

Macy leapt to her feet and backed away from him once she realized what she was seeing.

His torso led down to thick tentacles — black with pale stripes along their lengths — which swept forward and dragged him onto the island. He towered over her, radiating power and menace.

Macy raised her hands to warn him back, but he didn’t slow. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Cold fear swept down her spine. She backpedaled faster and gasped as her calves bumped into one of the large crates behind her. Screaming, she fell, her cry cut short as she hit the water and it filled her mouth. She thrashed in panic.

It was happening all over again.

Something thick and snakelike coiled around her waist. Macy clutched the smooth skin, clawed at it, seeking purchase to drag herself to the surface.

She was lifted out of the water. She coughed, throat burning, and gulped in air with rapid breaths.

Her eyes fell to the black tentacles wrapped around her middle. She quickly removed her hands from them, snapping her gaze up to meet Jax’s. Though her feet didn’t reach the ground, he still loomed over her.

He leaned close. “I will not betray my people to yours.”

“I’m sorry!” she said between coughs. “I wasn’t… I was only curious.”

He narrowed his eyes, and his pupils expanded. The tip of a tentacle brushed over her bare shoulder. Macy flinched away from it.

“Curious…” he rumbled. Lifting a hand, he moved it toward her face.

She leaned back as far as she could, staring at the translucent webbing between his fingers, at the black claws on his fingertips, at the subtle texture of his skin.

“Please. Don’t hurt me.” Macy turned her face away; if he was strong enough to hold her steady in midair, he could pick her to pieces with those claws effortlessly.

His hand, strangely warm, brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. Her breath quickened. He raised a clump of her wet hair and rubbed it between two fingers, separating the individual strands.

“What is this?”

“It’s hair,” she said, watching from the corner of her eye.

“What is its purpose?”

“I-I don’t know. To keep us warm? We have it all over our bodies, but it just…grows longer there.” She turned her face toward him. “You don’t have any?”

“No.” He tilted his head to the side and moved his hand, running his fingertip over the shell of her ear. “It is much stranger to see in the flesh.”

Reluctantly, Macy lowered her hands, resting them atop his tentacle. She’d expected it to be slimy, but his skin was velvety-fine, soft over hard muscle. It wouldn’t take much for him to do her serious harm; he’d just need to tighten his grip, and he’d crush her insides and snap her spine.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I have seen…ghosts of humans. It is different to see a human of flesh so close. To touch.”

“Ghosts?” Her finger slid over one of the suction cups. It expanded, and she pulled her hand away.

His gaze dipped to her hand. “They can be seen and heard, but not touched.”

“Where have you seen ghosts? Ghosts aren’t real.” Sea monsters weren’t real, either, but here she was, talking to one…

“There are a great many things underwater.”

Jax didn’t elaborate; he shifted his attention to her nose, and his nostril slits flared as he leaned closer. She pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. His skin was just as soft there as it was on his tentacles. The thumping of his heart vibrated against her palm, stronger than she would’ve guessed, its tempo rapid and rhythm odd — it pulsed in sets of six quick beats.

“Your heart is…different,” she said.

Jax glanced at her hand. He lowered his from her hair and placed it on her chest.

Macy nearly stopped breathing. Her heart raced as she stared at him with wide eyes. Part of his hand curved over her upper breast, and the tips of his claws rested against her bare skin.

“Hearts,” he said, brow falling. “Yours are weak.”

“It’s not weak. Humans only have one.”

“Are you all so small? So…delicate?” Removing his hand from her chest, took her wrist between forefinger and thumb and lifted her hand off his tentacle, examining it.

She tugged her hand out of his grasp. “What do you mean? Humans come in all shapes and sizes. I’m just…female. Aren’t your females smaller?”

“All shapes and sizes,” he muttered. “Doesn’t that make mating difficult?”

“What?” Her cheeks heated.

“Do you have to find mates of the same size and shape for mating to work?”

“You thought…” She shook her head, her face burning with embarrassment. “Not literally all shapes and sizes. Some of us are smaller than others. Some are wider, some are thinner, but we’re more or less the same.”

One of his tentacles brushed the back of her knee, and the tip slid up her inner thigh. Macy sucked in a sharp breath.

“No!” she exclaimed, drawing her legs back and kicking the offending appendage.

The tentacle snapped back. His hold on her waist tightened slightly, and his expression hardened. He stared at her with alien eyes.

“Put me down,” she said with a softer tone. “Please, just put me down.”

She didn’t think he’d listen; for the space of a few breaths, he didn’t move save for the slow rise and fall of his chest and shoulders. Finally, he lowered her. Relief flooded Macy as her feet touched solid ground.

Jax withdrew his tentacles and backed away, putting a bit of distance between them.

“Thank you.” Shaken, she wrapped her arms around herself and glanced past him, toward the dark part of the cavern. “How did you bring me in here?”

“Through the water.”

“So, you could…could take me back. You could help me to the shore.”

“No.”

For a moment, she stared at him, silent, unsure if she’d heard his response or imagined it.

“Then you could show me, and I-I can find my way.”

Oh, God. She didn’t want to face the sea alone.

“No,” he repeated. There was no malice in his voice, but his tone was firm.

“What do you mean?”

“I will not allow you the chance to lead your people to this place.”

Macy dug her fingers into her arms to keep them from trembling. “I won’t. I promise I won’t tell anyone about you, about this cave. About anything. I just want to go home.”

“I cannot trust the words of a human. I will not kill you, but you will remain here.”

Her chest constricted; she couldn’t breathe.

“Can you at least tell me if you saw my friend? He was on the boat with me. Is he…alive?”

“I saw only you, Macy.”

She was relieved that Camrin hadn’t been captured, too, but what were the chances he’d survived the storm?

“Please.” Tears obscured her vision. “Please, let me go. I can’t stay here.”

“No,” he said again, softer this time.

Her face crumpled, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. He wasn’t going to let her go.

Jax’s eyes widened, and he approached her. Leaning close, he raised a hand toward her face.

She slapped it away and stepped back. “Leave me alone!”

Jax recoiled, red pulsing across his skin. The shocked expression faded from his face quickly.

Macy didn’t care if she’d offended or angered him; he was keeping her as a prisoner. She moved farther away, sank to the ground beside a barrel, covered her face with her hands and cried. Her shoulders shook with each wail and shuddering breath as she cried.

She didn’t know where she was or what she was going to do.

Would she ever see The Watch again? Would she ever see her parents or Aymee?

She didn’t even know if Camrin was alive or dead. Only that it was her fault.

I should have told him!

There was a splash on the far side of the cavern. She didn’t have to look up to tell Jax was gone. She was alone.

That only made her cry harder.