Chapter 20
Malachi
“Sorry I’m late.” A sharp pain rippled across Malachi’s ribs as he caught his breath. Not as intense as last night—Ina’s painkillers were doing their job—but enough to remind him that he wasn’t fine, no matter how much he pretended otherwise.
He chained his bike up in the car park and hurried across the gravel to join Jeff and Ally on the wall. Jeff’s car was parked across two bays, careless and territorial, like he owned the place.
“It was difficult to get away.” This wasn’t a lie, but the half-truth sat sour in his stomach.
His body was heavy from lack of sleep and a head full of things he couldn’t unsee. He needed air and space from Riverside to process its secrets. The cycle around to Brown’s Bay had cleared some of the fog. He’d need to do a full lap of Latharna to clear it completely.
It was 8am. The old stone wall above the beach was already baking in the early morning sunshine.
They’d been coming here since they were children.
The midway point between their three houses—close enough to cycle to before they’d all passed their driving tests, but far enough away to give them privacy to plot their escape from Latharna.
Plans that seemed childish, now he knew about the Otherworld.
He was going to learn as much as he could about it, whether Dad wanted him to or not.
A shiver crawled up his spine. He pulled on the hoodie he’d lifted from the washing pile before he left the house—the fabric rough against his throat. It hid the cut on his neck. Ally would notice it and ask a million questions.
He sat between them, rubbing the dull pain in his ribs. A constant reminder that the Selkie were real. Always had been.
“Did you finally speak to your dad?” Jeff didn’t bother with hello; he rarely did. “How’d he take it?" He slapped Malachi hard between the shoulders.
Malachi lurched forward with a hiss, grinding his teeth as the pain flared.
Jeff didn’t notice. Of course he didn’t.
Jeff never noticed discomfort unless it was his own.
Ally clocked it, though. He studied Malachi with narrowed eyes, then held out a croissant, still warm from the oven, stuffed with bacon and cheese.
Ally’s family had been up since dawn, baking fresh breads and pastries in time for the breakfast rush.
Malachi shook his head. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday, but the smell made his stomach churn. Normally it would’ve been eaten in several bites.
Ally’s jaw dropped. Malachi turning down food was unheard of.
Jeff scoffed. “Are you joining Ally on a diet now, too?”
Malachi didn’t answer. Impatience simmered in his chest. Jeff’s voice scraped against his nerves, every word a reminder of how easy things still were for him. How uncomplicated his plan to simply up and leave Latharna was.
Silence hung in the air.
The morning was calm; the tide was on its way out. A golden glow reflected off the sea as the sun rose higher. The view was beautiful. It should’ve soothed him. All he could think about was what lived beneath the water. The Selkie.
He swallowed hard, jaw tightening. He understood the need for secrecy.
But sitting here, between the friends he’d grown up with, it felt wrong.
Cowardly. If something from the Otherworld hurt Ally or Jeff—if he stayed silent and let it happen—his fingers curled into his sleeves. He wouldn’t forgive himself.
“You bottled it, didn’t you?” Jeff cut in, sawing straight through Malachi’s thoughts. His mouth twisted with contempt. “Again.”
“I’m not going.” Malachi kept his voice steady, bracing himself for Jeff’s fury. “Things have changed. My dad needs me.”
“Changed?” Jeff exploded. He shot to his feet, trainers scraping hard against the stone as he jumped onto the path. “Your dad hasn’t needed you once in your life. He wouldn’t notice if you left without even saying goodbye. What—”
“Hey!” Ally stepped in to break Jeff’s momentum. Always the peacemaker. He hated confrontation, but wasn’t afraid to call someone out when they crossed the line.
“Stay outta this, Aloysius,” Jeff hissed, jabbing his finger into Ally’s shoulder. “You know I’m right!” He swung back to Malachi. “So what bullshit did he come up with to make you change your mind?”
Malachi exhaled a slow breath through his nose.
He didn’t bite. But the effort of holding it in was sharper than the pain in his ribs.
He couldn’t leave Latharna, not anymore, not knowing what he knew.
His fingers found a frayed tassel on his hoodie and twisted it, over and over, while his gaze fixed on the sea.
“Are you stoned or something?” Jeff paced, agitation vibrating off him. “What did he say to you?
Malachi didn’t answer. The waves rolled in and pulled back out again, steady and indifferent. Jeff’s voice rose and fell behind him like static.
He never really understood Jeff’s obsession with them leaving together. Leaving was Jeff’s dream and Malachi got swept up in it mostly because he had nothing of his own. Drifting behind Jeff was better than standing still and being ignored at home.
“He needs you to work at the shop, selling plastic crap,” Jeff sneered, dismissing The Wolf’s Den to its most basic function. “Come on, Mal. You’re better than that.”
Malachi’s mouth twisted. A backhanded compliment, delivered with knuckles.
The waves brushed softly against the wall below them.
Tiredness washed over him. Closing his eyes, he thought of bed and the sleep that had been eluding him for the past week.
The Selkie flashed into his mind, sharp teeth and those cold blue eyes.
What other creatures from the Otherworld lived on Latharna?
For the first time, Jeff didn’t feel big, or intimidating.
Dad’s face surfaced, haunted, but finally honest. Malachi wasn’t sure he would’ve done anything differently in his place. That thought surprised him more than anything else.
Jeff drew in a breath, recalibrating. His tone had shifted—softer now, the way it always did when brute force failed. “We were going to travel the world.” His smile didn’t reach his hard eyes. “There’s nothing for us here. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can really start living…”
When all else failed, emotional manipulation came through. Jeff wasn’t taking no for an answer, but Malachi was done with falling into line.
“I just don’t want to go anymore.” Malachi rolled his shoulders, a small, noncommittal movement, and looked back out to sea. He didn’t meet Jeff’s eyes. Didn’t rise to the bait. Just let the words fall flat between them.
Below, the waves crashed hard against the wall. Malachi leaned forward and glanced down. Water slapped the stone inches beneath their feet, cold spray misting the air. That only happened during storms.
His muscles tightened. Something pricked at the back of his neck—the unmistakable sensation of being watched. He scanned the water, heart beating faster, but whatever it was stayed just out of sight.
Jeff kept ranting, oblivious, as usual, to anything that didn’t directly impact him. Ally nodded along beside them, not agreeing but acknowledging, always trying to keep the peace.
“There’s stuff going on that I can’t explain.” Malachi wasn’t about to betray his family, not to appease Jeff’s temper. “You wouldn’t understand even if I explained it.”
Jeff barked a laugh. “Oh, I understand all right. You bottled it!” He leaned close enough, his hot breath brushed Malachi’s neck. “You’re so pathetic, you’d rather stay on Latharna, desperate for your dad’s attention rather than live your own life.”
Malachi’s shoulders sagged. Not because the words hurt—but because they were tired and overused. Jeff always went for the same cheap shots dressed up as truth. A flash of irritation cut through Malachi. Enough was enough.
Ally swung around and stood up. “Look, why don’t we head home for now?
” He placed himself between Malachi and Jeff.
“We can meet at Lucky Crumbs later, once we’ve calmed down.
” He offered a hopeful smile. Ally defaulted to food in the same way Jeff defaulted to cruelty.
And the promise of food was usually enough to calm tensions, especially if Thelma was cooking. But not this time.
The water had risen again. It lapped dangerously close now. Malachi shuddered as gooseflesh broke out along his arms; the warm air turned cold and sharp.
Jeff was mid-rant, tearing into Ally now, too wrapped up in his own fury to notice anything else. But Malachi did. His eyes tracked the surface—a flicker of movement caught his attention. A Selkie slipped beneath the waves, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.
“They’re here!” The shout tore out of him before he could stop it, hands plunging into his pocket for his phone. His stomach dropped. It was charging at home.
“Who?” Jeff snorted. “Your dad and Ina?” He laughed, sharp and cruel. “Jesus, do they ever let you out of their sight?”
Malachi didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the water, pulse roaring in his ears.
Jeff turned towards the empty car park, fists clenched. “You really need to get away from them. They treat you like a child. It’s not normal.”
Malachi’s fingers curled into his palms. Normal.
He thought of last night. The stench of seaweed, the sharp blade digging into his neck. The truth of what happened to Rhys clawing its way into the light.
The water surged again. Malachi lifted his feet just in time as a wave slapped against the wall. Ally yelped as icy water soaked his trainers. Jeff laughed as if it were all part of a game.
Malachi’s pulse spiked. His breath caught halfway in, chest refusing to expand. He needed to get them away from the edge—now—but his muscles locked in place. The thought of Ally slipping or Jeff being dragged under without warning hollowed him out
“Still scared of the water?” Jeff climbed up on the wall, arms spread wide like he was daring the sea to take him.
Malachi ground his teeth. He stood, forcing his legs to move, every nerve screaming. The wall was narrow beneath his feet. He reached for Ally without looking and hauled him up beside him. Jeff smirked; even here, he couldn’t help but be exhausting.
“You’re such a pus—"
The wave hit like a freight train. Water exploded over the wall, slamming into them with brutal force. The world tilted. Stone vanished beneath Malachi’s feet.
Malachi tensed as he hit the water. The shock of cold punched the air from his lungs. Panic flared white-hot before he crushed it down. He kicked hard, clothes dragging, ribs screaming in protest.
Not again. The Selkie had taken his brother. They were not going to take his friends.
A siren wailed beneath the surface—distorted—an air-raid alarm screaming danger into his skull. It wasn’t just noise. It was a warning for anyone who knew how to listen.
Malachi broke the surface, gasping, choking on salt. Dark clouds rolled over the sky unnaturally fast, turning the sea black-blue.
“Jeff?” Panic clawed at his throat. No answer.
Ally surfaced nearby, coughing violently, eyes wild. Relief flared before dread crashed back in. Jeff was gone.
Malachi dragged in a breath and dove again, eyes burning as he cut through the salt water. Every second stretched. A flicker of movement ahead made his heart stutter. Sapphire eyes glimmered through the murky water.
His chest seized. This can’t be real. He was dreaming. He had to be. Any second now Dad would appear and pull him free like he always did.
But no one came.
The siren’s wail sharpened, thinning into something else—something higher, more focused. Less of a warning and more of a summoning.
His lungs burned. Rhys’ face flashed behind his eyes and the guilt slammed into him so hard it almost dragged him deeper. He hadn’t been strong enough then. He wouldn’t freeze now.
Malachi kicked for the surface, every muscle shaking, bursting out into the air with the ragged gasp.
Ally hauled himself over the wall, retching on mouthfuls of seawater.
“Jeff?” Malachi spun, scanning the water. His chest tightened. He sucked in another breath, ready to dive again—and then the sound changed.
The siren melted away into a single, long howl. Low and steady. It wasn’t for everyone—only for him.
The sound rolled across the bay, familiar in a way that made his skin prickle. Something inside him leaned towards it.
Ally scrambled to his feet and reached to him, eyes wide with fear. “Where’s Jeff?” he choked back tears. “I can’t see him.”
Malachi took his hand and hauled himself back onto the wall, scanning the cliffs, the car park and the fields beyond. Jeff’s car sat alone, crooked across the lines.
The howl came again. Closer.
“Jeff?” he shouted at the sea. Water churned below. A head burst from the surface.
Relief hit so hard it nearly knocked Malachi to his knees. Ally was trying to shake water out of his phone, his fingers trembling.
“Help!” Jeff spluttered, barely keeping himself afloat.
The howling rose again—louder now. Urgent. Warning or signal, Malachi didn’t know. A strange sensation rose within him, as if he wanted to call back.
He shoved Ally behind him and leaned over the wall, reaching down. “Grab my hand.”
Jeff lunged. His fingernails dug into Malachi as their hands locked.
The howling echoed in Malachi’s ears. Jeff’s eyes were golden, burning bright as they glared at him.
Malachi flinched—an instinctive jerk backwards—the movement tearing out of him before he knew why.
His grip slipped, but Jeff’s tightened painfully around his wrist.
“You should’ve left while you had the chance,” Jeff snarled, bracing his feet against the wall. He yanked and the world lurched. Understanding crashed into Malachi too late.
Malachi woke with a violent gasp, drenched in sweat, heart hammering against his bruised ribs. His phone screamed beside him on the bed, the alarm blaring into the dark. Morning light crept through the curtains. The howling lingered, as if it never quite belonged to the dream.