You’re a monster.

Each time the words echoed through Macy’s mind, she saw the hurt in Jax’s eyes, the flicker of pain on his face that preceded his rage.

I didn’t mean it.

She stared at the dark water he’d disappeared into, willing him to come back so she could apologize. But he didn’t return.

Macy staggered to her feet, braced a hand on the cliffside for balance, and looked around. Torn vines lay everywhere. She glanced up, reminding herself just how tall the cliff was. Just how far she’d fallen.

It had been foolish. Dangerous and foolish. If Jax hadn’t returned when he did, she would’ve died. All because of guilt…and pride.

She stepped through the vines and dropped into the pool. Her body made her aware of every ache and pain as she swam. She pulled herself onto the island with weak, shaky arms, and for a time could do little more than lie on the ground with water pooling around her.

Macy felt more alone than ever.

She shifted her gaze, and her chest ached; three Halorian lobsters were piled nearby.

The fishermen back home often set traps for the bottom-dwelling creatures, but the lobsters were cautious. The traps needed to be left undisturbed for days at a time before they’d catch anything. As difficult as they were to obtain, they were one of Macy’s favorite foods.

And Jax had caught these for her.

She looked back at the shadowed portion of the cave.

Macy had always thought of herself as practical and hardworking — one problem at a time, just like her father always said. She woke early every morning, put in long hours tending the fields and greenhouses, and helped her neighbors however she could. Weaving baskets, cooking meals, sewing clothes, repairing roofs; anything. Whatever urges to wander and explore she’d felt as a child had been quashed by Sarina’s death.

Everyone had a part to play in The Watch…and people rarely left.

There were other settlements out there, but the nearest was weeks away by land, and what would be different in any of them apart from the people’s faces?

You have not been feeding yourself, Macy.

Jax’s words had hurt because he was right. After Sarina’s death, Macy thought she needed to make up for her sister’s absence, that she had to be the best daughter she could be. She’d done the work of two people. All to ensure the people around her were happy and wanted for nothing.

She’d tip-toed around her mother, who’d never forgiven Macy for what had happened, and performed every chore without complaint, held her tongue through every hurtful comment. Despite her misgivings, Macy would have done everything to keep Camrin content after their joining.

Macy hadn’t been living. The people around her had slowly drained her life, a little a time. There’d been no maliciousness in it. They kept taking because she kept giving.

Her father and Aymee had tried, in their own, subtle ways, to steer her away from that behavior. She saw it now. But they’d been too gentle — or Macy too stubborn — to change anything.

The choice had never been theirs to make. It had always belonged to Macy; she was the only person who could’ve altered her course.

Would it be so bad? To…to remain here with Jax?

Could it even work? They were from different worlds. She had needs that he didn’t; he lived in water, and she on land. He was…other.

What would she be to him? A belonging, a prisoner?

Or…a friend?

Despite everything, she enjoyed her conversations with Jax. She took delight in the wonder and curiosity he exhibited. He awoke the same in her; Jax was fascinating, and she wanted to know more about him and his kind.

Let your people think you died in the storm.

Could she? Could she go on, knowing that her family and friends mourned her?

It was insane and selfish, but it was also…freeing. Her death would allow Camrin to move on. He had friends and family to comfort him through his grief, and, in time, he’d find someone to love him as he deserved. To love him like Macy couldn’t.

Ultimately, what choice did she have? Jax refused to let her go. It angered her, but she understood. His need to protect his people superseded all else. She could continue to fight against him…or, she could accept her circumstances and work within them.

If she wanted to eventually get out of here, perhaps the best route was to befriend Jax. To earn his trust in the hope that, one day, her word would be enough for him.

Though she was sore from head to toe, Macy stood up and went to work. She laid new grass and driftwood on the ashes of her last fire and covered it with the empty crate. After refilling the metal bucket with water from the pool, she hauled it back to the shelter and set it atop the container.

It wasn’t until she dropped the lobsters into the bucket that she realized she had no way to start the fire. Jax hadn’t allowed her to touch the gun.

She settled down under her shelter to wait. Soon, her eyelids grew heavy, and she gave in to sleep.

A splash startled her awake. She sat up, heart thumping. It felt like she’d only closed her eyes for a moment, but the cave was dim, with no direct sunlight coming through the opening.

Macy searched the water. “Jax?”

Movement caught her attention; Jax emerged from the shadows and swam toward the island.

Relief spread through her, paired with something more. She was wary, yes — what would he say, after what she’d called him? — but it didn’t explain the warmth spreading through her belly.

He’d come back.

He stopped at the edge of the island, eyes fixed on hers. They stared at one another in silence.

“Macy, I—”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted; she needed to get the words out, needed him to know. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t think you’re a monster. I should never have said that.”

Jax closed his mouth, brow furrowed. He searched her face. “You said it because of the way I’ve acted toward you. I am sorry for the way I’ve treated you, Macy. For taking away your choice.”

His guilt was plain on his features. He had as little choice in the matter she did. What would his people do if they knew he had her? That he’d revealed himself, revealed his existence, to a human? They clearly considered humans a threat, and there was something he’d said before he left…

“I know. I understand.” She folded her hands in her lap and dropped her gaze to them. “What did you mean, before, about kraken being as humans made you?”

“You truly do not know?”

“Know what, Jax?”

“Kraken were created by humans, long ago.”

“What? I don’t…” She shook her head. “You can’t mean…made you, right?”

“That is exactly what I mean,” he replied, gaze unwavering. “Humans used their technology to make kraken, in the ancient times.”

“But…there are no reports, no stories, nothing!”

“There are, in our home. The ghosts speak of it, and the Computer. We were created by humans to do work they could not.”

Macy’s mind raced, but she could barely comprehend what he’d told her. If it was true, it explained how his people existed, despite the pre-colonization scans of Halora — public record to this day — indicating the planet was devoid of sapient life. But why was there nothing in The Watch about them?

Why was there no record of wherever it was the kraken lived?

“How? How were you made?” she asked.

“I do not understand the words the ghosts use when they speak of such things.”

Macy stood and approached Jax. She knelt on the edge of the island, just in front of him, and held out her hand.

He looked at it and raised a questioning gaze to her. Hesitantly, he took her hand, but she turned her palm to press flat against his, lining up their splayed fingers. His hand was larger, but — apart from the webbing between his fingers and his sharp claws — was just like hers.

She studied his face next. There was so much human in him. Did he realize it? Could it really be a coincidence? She brushed her fingers along the ridge of his brow and trailed them down the side of his face.

His nostrils flared, and his shoulders rose with a deep inhalation. Slowly, he lifted his free hand and touched his fingertips to her cheek, running them downward to trace the line of her jaw. Her skin tingled in the wake of his touch, and heat rippled through her, pooling in her belly. She locked eyes with him.

“Your skin has changed again.” His voice was rougher, huskier, seeming to rumble into her through the points of contact between them.

Her heart fluttered, and she felt a sudden need for more. Instead, she pulled back, breaking away from him. Nervously, she tucked her hair behind her ear and stood.

Jax caught her calf before she could retreat. Her breath hitched; his touch burned sweetly.

“What are these marks, Macy?”

“What marks?” She angled her leg to see. He didn’t remove his hand, maintaining that light, fiery contact.

Her leg was a patchwork of scrapes and bruises from the top of her foot to her knee, undoubtedly the result of slamming into the cliffside during her failed climb. She lifted the hem of her dress, revealing more bruises on her thigh. Based on the way her side felt, she was sure there was bruising there, too. It was minor compared to what she might’ve suffered.

He leaned forward, and his eyes trailed fire over her skin. It was ridiculous; there was nothing sexual about it, and she didn’t understand why she was reacting in that fashion.

“They are wounds, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re bruises. You don’t…bruise?”

“Are they…tender? When pressure is placed on them?”

“Yes, and they change color as they heal.”

“I think we bruise, too,” he said. “Skin in such spots will not change color properly for a day or so, and touching them causes minor pain.”

He slid his hand down the back of her leg, following the curve of her calf and cupping her heel before allowing her to lower her foot. Their eyes were locked the whole time; Macy’s heart beat rapidly, her breasts ached, and her sex clenched.

What is happening to me?

Macy stepped away. She felt detached from her own body, no longer in control of it. Camrin’s touch had never elicited such responses.

“Would you start the fire, please?”

Jax was silent for a few seconds, brow creased — he was studying her again, searching her. She moved back as he pulled himself onto the island. Water sluiced down his skin. She watched the play of powerful muscles beneath his flesh, and the heat at her core was, for an instant, hotter than any flame.

He twisted, and a splotch of color caught her eye — the gun was strapped to the upper part of one of his tentacles with a piece of rope. He untied it and took the weapon in hand. Grasping it by the barrel, he met Macy’s gaze, and held the gun to her, grip-first.

Macy frowned. “I…don’t understand.”

“This is the power setting,” he said, pointing to a knob on the side. “And here, behind the trigger, is the on and off button.” He extended his arm fully. “This…is my trust. Do you understand now?”

“Even after what I did? Tricking you so I could escape?”

“I would have done the same if our places were reversed. I do not want you to be my prisoner.”

Her chest tightened, but it wasn’t from pain or sadness; it was elation. She smiled and took the gun.

“Thank you. I…” Her smile faded, and she bit her bottom lip.

“What is wrong, Macy?”

She walked to her shelter, running the words through her mind as she crouched to light the fire. She felt Jax’s eyes on her; he was awaiting an answer. Lowering herself to the ground, she placed the gun aside, took a deep breath, and looked at him.

“I thought about what you said.”

“About which thing I said?” He moved closer, but only a little.

“About letting my family — my people — believe I’m dead.”

“I pushed too far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She folded her hands in her lap, running her thumb along the tops of her knuckles. “I understand why you can’t let me go back, that there’s more than just me and you, and…and even though it feels selfish and wrong to want them to believe I’m gone, I do think it’s…it’s for the best.”

Macy shifted her gaze to the fire. “I don’t want to be your prisoner, and I don’t want to be caged here.”

“I…don’t understand. You think it best for them to believe you are gone, but you do not want to stay here?” He shook his head. “I cannot take you back.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“What are you asking, then?”

“I want to see things. Want to explore the world. I don’t want to be confined by The Watch, or this place, or anywhere again.” She met his eyes. “You’re Jax the Wanderer, right? And you said I’m…that I’m yours. So. Take me with you, out there. Not back home, but beyond. Then…then I’ll be yours, and stay with you willingly.”

Jax stared into Macy’s eyes. Though her voice was filled with conflicting emotions, her gaze was steady, unwavering, devoid of hesitance. If only his thoughts were as steady as her eyes.

The weight of her words was immense; did she understand what they meant to him? Could she possibly mean them in the way he wanted her to?

It was a Choosing. Despite their conflicts, despite their differences, Macy had looked upon him and decided to give herself to him. Decided she’d be his. That was far more powerful than the claim he’d laid upon her.

His pounding hearts pumped searing blood through his veins. He wanted Macy more than he’d wanted anything. Their slightest contact was a thrill to him; he ached with longing, itched for another touch. Her reactions displayed equal intensity, but each time, she’d pulled herself away.

Offering herself was only one part of it. Did she want Jax in return?

He crossed the island and sank down before her. She didn’t flinch when he slid a tentacle over her lap and wrapped it around one of her wrists, didn’t pull away as he raised her arm and pressed his palm to hers.

Her warm, smooth skin sent a delightful pulse through him, and her scent suffused his suction cups. All the while, she held eye contact with him.

“This is what you want?” he asked. “Truly?”

“Yes. I want to feed myself, to take what I want for once.”

A hundred warnings flitted through his mind. The dangers of the sea were too great; she belonged with her people; their attraction was unnatural. All true, to some extent, but he rejected them. He’d given her little choice, but the choice was still hers to make.

“And if I said I would take you back to your home? Back to your old life?”

Her brows fell, and she looked away. “Then I would go home…and part of me would regret it for the rest of my life. I love my friends and family, and I should go and let them know I’m alive, should take that pain away from them. I know I’ll have shelter, food, and security there. But…I wouldn’t be happy.”

The raw honesty of her answer struck Jax hard. He bent his fingers, pressing their pads to the tops of hers.

“You think you will find happiness with me?”

Macy brushed her thumb along his webbing. “I do.”

He had never cared much for the company of other kraken, apart from Arkon, and he’d never known one who shared his desire to journey to unfamiliar places. Solitude had suited Jax well. It wasn’t until Macy that he realized his own loneliness. What would it be like to have her with him as he pushed the boundaries of the known world? What would it be like to have her share in the wonder and the thrill?

He dropped his gaze to watch her thumb move. The gentleness of her touch was pleasurable against the sensitive skin, but it reminded him of something more pressing.

“I cannot stray far from the sea, Macy.”

“I know, and I’m okay with that.”

“If you want to explore with me, it will have to be in the water.” He shifted his fingers, sliding them between hers. She had no webbing to help her swim, no siphons or gills, and being wet made her cold.

“I-I know that, too.”

“You said I saved your life when your boat overturned. Was it the water that nearly killed you?”

Macy attempted to withdraw her hand, but he held it.

“The ocean is unforgiving, Macy.”

“I know.” She looked away from and laughed, humorlessly; she was crying again. “I know that more than some.”

“And I need to know that you will be able to handle yourself in the water. I need to know why you fear it.”

“I…I need to get the bucket off the fire.”

Jax pressed his lips together, siphons flaring, and released his hold on her wrist. He watched as she wrapped cloth around her hands, lifted the bucket of bubbling water off the crate, and set it down nearby. Though it had been removed from the heat, steam continued to billow from within.

She picked up a tool from inside her shelter — a long metal handle with a shell-shaped piece on the end she’d called a spoon — and used it to fish out the hard-shells and deposit them on a scrap of cloth spread on the ground. Their shells had changed to bright red. Did everything change so drastically when it was cooked?

She turned toward him, hesitated, and retook her place beside him. She sat in silence, looking everywhere but at him.

“Macy. We cannot avoid speaking of this.”

“I’m not…not trying to avoid it. It’s just…” She inhaled shakily, and when she finally met his eyes, hers were leaking again.

He raised his hand and brushed the water from her cheeks before settling his palm over her knee. “Tell me.”

“I’ve never cried this much,” she laughed, offering him a sad smile, gone as quickly as it had come. “Probably hard to believe. I’ve been crying since you brought me here, it feels like.”

“It is okay, Macy. Tell me.”

“My father is a fisherman, just like his father, and his grandfather…so he started teaching us almost before we could walk. As far back as I can remember, I loved the sea. They couldn’t keep me away from it. I sailed with him, helping out as much as I could, and we were both happy. His pride in me felt good, but that wasn’t what called me back. It was the water.

“Standing on the shore, or in his boat, the sea went on forever. There was no end to it. And swimming was like…flying. It was so freeing. Nobody knew what was out there…it could’ve been anything.”

Jax wasn’t sure what flying was, but he understood the sense of freedom, of possibility. The call of the unknown. He’d chased it for most of his life.

“What changed, Macy?”

“Something happened when I was nine.” She dropped her gaze. “It was during the wet season. The water is always treacherous that time of year. My dad used to say it’d turn on you just to see you flounder. He and my mother told me to stay away from the shore, but…I couldn’t. I wanted to swim. Needed to, I guess. So, I snuck out when they weren’t paying attention.”

“I understand. When I was a youngling, I yearned to wander and explore, and I was scolded by the adults for it.” Jax gave her leg a gentle squeeze. “That did not stop me from going.”

Macy stared at his hand; he was about to remove it when she placed her own atop it. “You wouldn’t be The Wanderer if you had listened.”

“Yes. And I could no more deny who I was than you could deny who you were.”

“Who I was nearly destroyed my family.” Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, and she squeezed his hand. “My sister, Sarina, was three years older than me. She saw me sneak out and followed me. For a while, she tried to convince me to go back, but, in the end, she relented. Sarina loved the sea as much as I did. If I promised to stay close, she’d go with me and wouldn’t tell our parents.

“We had so much fun. The sun was hitting the water just right, and it glowed. It was so beautiful. We kept cupping it in our hands, pretending we were holding liquid gold. But we didn’t realize how late it was getting, or how far out we’d gone. The tide was rising. That…that’s when a huge wave hit us. I went under and got turned upside-down, and then I was being pulled away from shore.”

Though he didn’t often venture near the coast, Jax was familiar with the powerful, ever-shifting currents that pervaded those shallow waters. They were difficult even for kraken to travel, at times.

“I screamed for Sarina when I resurfaced. I remember the fear, the panic… I heard her calling for me, and saw her fighting to keep her head above the water, but no matter how hard we swam, the current pulled us farther and farther apart. More waves hit me and sent me under. I struggled back up every time, gasping for air, growing weaker and weaker.

“I kept calling her name, watching her get farther from me… And, when another wave pushed me under, I must’ve been turned around, because I lost her. I couldn’t hear her anymore, and I spun in circles looking, but I couldn’t see her. My nose, chest, and throat were burning, and I was so scared. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t keep myself above the surface for much longer.”

Jax watched the subtle but unmistakable play of emotions over her features — flashes of fear, panic, desperation, guilt, and sorrow — and frowned. This confirmed the old stories. Humans couldn’t breathe underwater. The thought of her struggles tore at his insides, and the pain was given claws by her expression.

She wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand. “My dad found me. After they’d realized we were gone, he and some of our neighbors came looking for us. He guessed where we snuck off to, and was sailing his boat along the beach. He found me…but he didn’t find her. He never…never found Sarina. And it was all my fault.

“I never went back to the water until…”

“Until the day I found you?”

Macy nodded and offer a strained smile. “The sea seems to have it out for me.”

Jax’s chest ached; sorrow flowed from her every word and permeated her expression. She had cared for Sarina deeply — and still did. He could never truly know the suffering Macy had endured, but he understood the depth of her feelings. Understood the bond. Though his people didn’t treat family the same as hers, he had a brother, of sorts, in Arkon. And the mere thought of losing Arkon so suddenly was devastating.

This was an old pain Macy carried, but it was no less intense for its age. If anything, it had been strengthened by the passage of time, had become a wound that never healed.

“You cannot blame yourself for the…” He paused, searching his memory for one of Arkon’s words. “…fickleness of the sea. It takes what it desires, and we can do little to stop it. And you were a youngling. When we are young, we know fear, and we know danger, but we do not understand them for what they are.”

“It could have been prevented,” she said, glancing up at him. “My parents told me to stay away. They knew how dangerous the tides were that time of year, and I didn’t listen.”

“As I said, Macy, you were too young to understand the danger. Your sister was, too. You learned a harsh lesson that day — harsher than anyone should endure at that age — but her death was an accident.”

Her eyes — glistening and bright — searched his. Suddenly, she threw herself upon him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her weight was solid, but slight. Her body shook with her cries.

Jax held her, brushing his claws lightly through her hair. Macy had cried often in the short while he’d known her, and it had affected him deeply each time. But the sounds she made now were agonizing. Raw emotion poured out of her and flowed directly into Jax, demanding he acknowledge it, that he feel it himself.

He was helpless but to hold her.

Slipping two tentacles around Macy, he drew her closer, welcomed her heat, her pain, her vulnerability. If he knew how, he would have taken her suffering away. Would have welcomed it into himself to spare her.

Her cries gradually quieted, leaving only occasional, shuddering intakes of breath. Jax waited for her to pull away once she realized they were holding each other.

She brushed her palm over the back of his head and down his neck before moving it back up again. It was a soothing, intimate caress, and despite the circumstances, it heated his blood. He tightened his embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath warm on his skin.

“For what?” He lightly ran the tip of a tentacle over her back.

She buried her face against his neck. “After Sarina’s death, no one wanted to talk about it — about her. It hurt too much for everyone. Whenever I was in town, I felt everyone’s pitying stares on me…even my dad looked at me that way. My mother was the only one to voice it, though. She blamed me. I know…I know she didn’t mean to, but it was there, even as years passed. She never forgave me.” Her hand cupped the back of his head. “I think I just really needed to hear what you said.”

“Perhaps it is with humans as it is with kraken — we cannot control how others think or feel. All that matters, Macy, is that you forgive yourself.”

“I know.” Macy inhaled deeply and sighed, lifting her head to look up at him. Her eyes were red, the flesh around them irritated and puffy, and her cheeks were pink. But she smiled.

She was beautiful.

Macy leaned forward and pressed her lips to Jax’s cheek. Their lingering touch sent jolts of pleasure across his face, running just below the surface of his skin.

When she finally pulled away, he raised a hand and pressed his fingertips to the spot she’d touched with her lips. The slowly fading sensation pulsed outward.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What I just did?”

Jax nodded.

She smiled, and this time, it lit up her eyes. “You’ve never been kissed?”

“Kissed. I have known nothing like it.”

“The kraken don’t kiss?”

“We do not. Do your people do it often?”

Her skin brightened, and she averted her gaze. “Yes. There are…many ways to kiss. It’s a way to show affection.”

Possibilities raced through Jax’s mind, but he couldn’t make sense of his thoughts. The feel of it had been so overwhelming, so amazing, despite its simplicity, that he couldn’t imagine why humans would spend their time doing anything else.

He wanted to experience it again and again.

Allowing himself no hesitation, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. Her scent enveloped him, and he tasted a hint of her sweetness.

Macy laughed, leaned back in his arms, and rested her hands on his shoulders. Their gazes met, and he saw his desires reflected in her eyes.

“We should eat,” she said, glancing at the hard-shells. “I never said thank you for getting those.”

As quickly as it had come, the moment ended. It was for the best; who was to say their bodies were even compatible?

But it would be pleasurable to determine if they are, regardless.

He released her reluctantly and followed her to the waiting food. “You’ve already spoiled the meat.”

“You say that about everything I cook, but you enjoy it anyway.” She smirked, retrieved her knife, and folded her legs beneath her. Taking a hard-shell into her lap, she wedged the tip of her blade between the shell sections on its underside and pried it open. The meat inside was white and puffy.

Jax picked up one of the remaining hard-shells and took it apart, using his claws the same way she used her knife. As they were, humans seemed ill-equipped for survival, but their capabilities were immensely enhanced by even the simplest tools.

He hesitated before taking his first bite; the meat was softer and more flavorful than he was used to, though it felt strange on his tongue.

“I told you.” Grinning, she slipped a piece of meat between her lips.

His eyes dipped to her mouth; she’d said there were many ways to kiss. How would her lips feel on different parts of his body? How would her skin taste on her neck, her shoulder, her thighs?

“You did.” He lifted one of the jointed legs and sucked the meat from within. Allowing himself to think of her lips, her warmth, or the softness of her touch would only cause him discomfort. “We need to speak of your…proposal, Macy.”

It hurt to watch her smile fade.

She lowered her gaze, picking at her food nervously. “What about it?”

“As much as I want to take you out there—”

“I can’t stay here, Jax!”

“And we can find some solution to that. But your story…humans cannot breathe in the water. How long can you hold your breath? I might have nearly killed you merely by bringing you here, Macy.”

She frowned, her eyes roaming over everything around her — the hard-shells, the fire, the knife — settling, finally, on the heat gun. Her brow creased.

“The place you found the gun…are there more things there? If…if people once lived down there, they must’ve had something.”

There were more things than he could count in the Facility, and the kraken knew little about most of them. “What sort of device could help with this?”

“There’s a suit in the little museum back in The Watch. It covers the entire body, and there’s a mask that goes with it. The first colonists used those suits for deep sea diving. I’ve only ever seen the one, but… Is there anything like that down there?”

He’d explored every accessible part of the Facility as a youngling, had searched through all the containers and storage areas and examined objects he would never have a name for. That had been so long ago…the weapons were important to keep track of, as they could be used for hunting and protection, but so much else was beyond his people’s understanding.

“I do not know, Macy. There may be, but I will have to go and search.”

She raised her head and looked at him with wide eyes. “You will?”

He nodded. Yesterday, he would’ve called himself mad to even consider equipping her with a potential way to escape. Now he was excited over the prospect. Excited at the thought of having someone to share in the wonderment of exploration.

Someone to chase away his loneliness.

“Thank you, Jax!”

It was difficult not to smile at her gratefulness and enthusiasm; he didn’t fight the urge. He settled the end of a tentacle on her leg. Keeping it still afterward was even more difficult. “It may be well into the night before I return. Do you require anything before I leave?”

Macy looked down and set her hand over his tentacle. She curled her fingers around it lightly, brushing them over his suction cups. A thrill coursed through him.

“No. As much as I’ll hate being alone, I’ll be fine.”

He hoped she was being truthful. He slid his tentacle off her slowly, turned, and moved to the water. “Eat the rest. So it is not wasted.”

Macy chuckled. “I’ll leave the heads for you to pick at later.”

Jax smiled and dove into the pool.