Chapter 33
F our massive shapes arrowed through the kelp, closing fast. They weren’t interested in her anymore. Their golden eyes were locked on Klari — the obvious leader, the one who had already claimed her twice. Take him down, and the prize would fall.
Greta’s lips pulled back from newly sharpened teeth.
Not today.
The first rival burst through a thick curtain of fronds on Klari’s left, claws extended, mouth open in a silent snarl.
Klari twisted to meet him, but Greta was faster.
She darted low, tail whipping hard, and sank her teeth into the rival’s exposed thigh. Sharp. Deep. The taste of blood flooded her mouth — metallic, hot, alien.
The rival bellowed, thrashing, but she held on like a shark, claws raking his side while Klari drove his fist straight into the male’s throat.
Cartilage crunched.
The rival convulsed once, then went limp as Klari twisted and snapped his neck with brutal efficiency. The body drifted away into the kelp, trailing dark blood .
“One,” Klari growled, golden eyes flashing to hers for a split second. Pride.
Greta spat blood into the water and grinned, teeth stained rose. “Keep count.”
The second rival came from above, dropping like a predator from the canopy. He slammed into Klari’s back, claws digging deep into already torn muscle.
Klari roared in pain but didn’t falter. He spun, trying to shake the male off, but the rival was heavy and vicious, teeth snapping at the back of Klari’s neck.
Greta didn’t hesitate.
She shot upward, clamped her jaws around the rival’s exposed gill slit, and bit down with every ounce of her new strength.
The rival screamed — a high, bubbling sound — and released Klari to claw at her. She held on, shaking her head like a terrier with a rat, tearing the gill open in a burst of blood.
Klari finished it.
He drove his claws up under the rival’s jaw, punched through the soft palate, and ripped backward.
The male’s head jerked once, then sagged. Klari shoved the corpse away with a contemptuous flick of his tail.
“Two,” he panted, breathing hard. Blood streamed from fresh gashes across his shoulders and back.
Greta swam to his side instantly, one hand pressing over the worst wound. “You’re bleeding too much.”
“I’m fine,” he lied, but his voice was rough. His markings flickered unevenly. “Two left.”
The remaining rivals had fallen back into the swaying kelp, circling at a distance. They were smarter now. Warier. Their eyes kept darting between Klari and Greta, calculating .
Then the two rivals exchanged a single, silent look.
Without warning, they split — one darting left through the thickest kelp, the other shooting right toward open water.
Klari’s tail lashed once. “They’re trying to divide us.”
Greta’s gills flared. “Then we don’t let them.”
He turned to her, golden eyes burning. Blood streaked his indigo scales, but the look he gave her was pure fire — protective, possessive, and full of something that made her chest tighten.
“Come on,” he said, voice low and rough. “While they play their games, let’s go find somewhere quiet and end this.”
She did as he said. Very willingly.