A Merman’s Regrets
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Merman’s Regrets
KYROS
Idon’t stop swimming until the cave is long behind me. The water burns against my skin, the red pollen sinking into every exposed pore.
I want to go back.
I want to sink so fucking deep into Sadie that she can’t tell where I start and she ends.
My hands tremble as I drag them down my face. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I snap my tail hard, driving toward a nearby rock outcropping. I practically slam into it, my chest heaving as I brace both hands against the stone and bow my head.
I want her beneath me.
I want her hands in my hair.
I want her thighs around my shoulders.
My markings flare so brightly that nearby fish scatter. Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.
I’ve known Sadie for all of a week. That’s nothing.
I push away from the rock and continue swimming, barely noticing my surroundings.
She still can’t fucking swim. My reef rat is slow and uncoordinated, and she doesn’t stand a chance.
The deepweaver will hear her, and she’ll die.
She may make it to the siphon, and she may even destroy it, but she’ll never make it back up.
There’s too much pressure. Her arms are thin, not made for deep-water swimming.
She has a child’s strength.
She will die.
I can’t send her down there. The mere thought makes me weak, but I can’t stop myself from thinking it. Tomorrow should feel like salvation, but I feel no relief.
I swim a lap around the small cave I left Sadie inside, scanning the perimeter. I need to make sure she’s safe. The need is consuming me, and it has nothing to do with the bloom.
The hybrid has clawed her way under my skin all on her own.
I should be focusing on the siphon and my dying pod. It should be my priority, but Sadie is all I can think about.
Tideborn hunting grounds are emptying by the day. We’ve extended them as far as we can safely reach, but we’re still not catching enough to support the pod. And without the Great Current, there aren’t enough nutrients to support our kelp fields and drifting gardens.
We’re only days away from rationing.
Weeks away from starvation.
The Coveborn will attack.
I close my eyes, and for one selfish moment, I allow myself to imagine turning around. I could take Sadie home, or perhaps I could trap her in the cave in which we’ve found temporary shelter. I’m a strong fighter. I could provide for us.
The fantasy lasts for all of three seconds before reality comes rushing back in.
Without Sadie, the siphon remains, and without the siphon’s destruction, the Great Current never returns. Without the Great Current, my people die.
I have no choice.