Chapter 16
K lari’s golden eyes stayed on hers, the makeshift leaf bandages on his side already darkening with slow seepage. He spoke plainly, no softening, no attempt to make it sound better than it was.
“When we mate, the round is over. The reset mist washes over us all and we begin again in our pods. You’ll receive the serum. It will last sixty minutes. Like last time. Until the next claim resets it.”
The words hung in the charged air, clinical on the surface but laced with something deeper.
Greta stayed quiet, letting it settle. Her mind turned the information over the way she would a new circuit diagram—testing connections, weighing variables.
She looked down at her own hands: soft, human, fragile without scales. She remembered the terrifying rush of the change in the pod, the way water had suddenly become breathable.
And she remembered the kiss-breathing on the way up—his mouth on hers, the unexpected heat of it, and how her body had responded even while she was furious at herself for it.
She didn’t ask more questions. She had enough data.
The sounds from the water grew louder. One of the remaining rivals sent up a long, carrying call—not the usual clicks, but a low, resonant warning that rolled across the island like distant thunder: She’s up here.
Klari pushed himself to his feet with a careful grunt, one hand pressed lightly to his bandaged side. The wounds clearly hurt, but he moved with strength. He looked toward the treeline and the black-sand beach beyond it, tension coiling in his shoulders.
“Greta.”
She stood as well, the leaf coverings shifting against her skin. Their eyes met.
He spoke quietly, voice rough but steady. “I’m not going to ask you. Whatever happens, whatever you decide—we figure it out together. But if we go back into the water without a claim, you stay human down there. And I can’t fight those that remain while keeping you alive.”
She already knew that. The math was brutal and simple.
“I will die to protect you. And reset in my pod. But once I am gone, there will be nothing else to keep you safe. Do you understand?”
Greta turned her gaze to the water, then up to the strange alien sky with its twin moons just beginning to rise.
She thought about her students—Jasper’s impossible questions, the quiet satisfaction of a drone finally hovering perfectly.
She thought about the empty warehouse, the life she had been living that now felt impossibly far away.
Then she looked back at Klari: the blue-scaled male who had held her while she was drowning, who had listened to her like she was the only thing that mattered, who had killed without hesitation and then let her tend his wounds with the same steady practicality she used in her lab.
Something inside her chest shifted—fear and want and raw necessity all tangled together. This wasn’t just survival anymore. It hadn’t been for a while.
“Okay,” she said softly.
He didn’t move. He waited, giving her the space to change her mind.
She took a breath and said it again, clearer this time. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Klari.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Mate with me.”
Relief flashed across his face—pure, unguarded relief. In two powerful strides he closed the distance and took her face gently between his clawed hands.
His touch was careful, almost reverent. The silver markings along his jaw and shoulders began to brighten with a soft, inner glow for the first time since they had reached the beach.
“Not here,” he whispered, voice low and rough with restrained need. “Not in the open.”
A rival suddenly crashed through the treeline fifty yards down the beach—moving fast, silver scales flashing as he barreled through the scrub.
Another broke the surface of the water behind him, powerful tail propelling him toward shore with aggressive speed.
Klari grabbed her hand. His grip was firm, warm, and sure. The contact sent a spark up her arm that had nothing to do with fear.
“Run,” he said.
Greta’s bare feet pounded across the coral ridge and then the black sand, pain flaring with every step but ignored.
Klari stayed right beside her, matching her pace despite his injuries, his larger body shielding her as much as possible.
The leaf coverings fluttered and tore as they sprinted, but she didn’t care. The rivals’ roars rose behind them—close, too close.
They hit the surf at full sprint. Cold water exploded around her ankles, then her knees, then her thighs.
“Hold your breath,” Klari ordered, voice tight.
He dove, pulling her under with him in one smooth motion. The ocean closed over her head in a rush of bubbles and pressure. She was still fully human—lungs burning almost immediately, skin prickling with the sudden cold, legs kicking awkwardly.
Klari didn’t waste time. He spun her toward him, one strong arm locking around her waist, and sealed his mouth over hers.
This kiss was even hotter than the first time. Steamy. Hungry.
His lips moved against hers with intensity, tongue sliding deep as he shared oxygen in long, slow pulls. The cool water did nothing to temper the heat building between them.
Greta’s fingers dug into his shoulders, clutching at wet scales as she kissed him back just as fiercely. Every shared breath felt intimate, filthy, charged with the promise of what they were about to do.
His free hand splayed across her lower back, pressing her naked body flush against his powerful frame. She could feel the hard ridges of his muscles, the steady thrum of his heart, the growing evidence of his arousal even through the water.
They broke for the briefest second so she could exhale, then he was kissing her again—deeper, slower, more possessive. The kiss wasn’t just about air anymore. It was a preview. A vow.
His tongue stroked hers in a rhythm that made her thighs clench despite the cold sea, her nipples tightening against his scaled chest. A low growl vibrated from his throat into her mouth, and she answered with a soft, needy sound that got lost in the bubbles.
Klari’s tail powered them forward with strong, efficient strokes, propelling them away from the first island and toward a darker silhouette rising on the horizon—another small island, closer than she expected.
He kept her tight against him the entire way, one arm never leaving her waist, their mouths locked in that continuous, steamy exchange of breath and desire.
Behind them, the two rivals hit the water hard, their aggressive calls cutting through the depths. But Klari was faster on this leg, driven by fresh purpose and the warm, naked female pressed against him.
He angled them deeper, using the currents and the rocky outcrops for cover while never once breaking the heated kiss.
Greta’s lungs burned less with every shared breath. Her body was hyper-aware of him—every shift of his muscles, the way his claws lightly pricked her hip in restraint, the thick length of him growing harder against her belly as they swam.
The sexual tension that had been simmering now boiled over into something undeniable. This wasn’t just necessity. This was want. Raw, mutual, and unstoppable .
The second island loomed closer. Black sand beach and jagged coral ridges waited under the alien moonlight.
Klari finally broke the kiss as they neared the shallows, both of them gasping as he pulled her up toward the surface.
His voice was rough, eyes blazing with gold fire when they broke into the air.
“Almost there.”
They surged forward together, waves crashing around them as they stumbled onto the new beach. Klari didn’t let go of her hand. His markings glowed brighter now, casting shifting silver light across her bare skin.
The rivals were still coming. They didn’t have long.
But it would have to be long enough.