Chapter 36
T he rival had him in a crushing chokehold, powerful arms locked around his throat from behind, squeezing the life out of him.
They had tumbled out of the kelp forest into open water, thrashing and rolling in a violent tangle of tails and claws.
Klari’s vision was already narrowing, black spots blooming at the edges as his gills struggled for water that couldn’t reach his lungs.
The rival’s voice hissed hot against his ear. “You think you can just take her and leave? She’s mine now.”
Klari snarled, claws raking uselessly at the arms pinning him. His body was screaming — wounds from the brutal struggles bleeding freely into the water.
But the thought of Greta kept him fighting.
Greta.
He had told her to run. He had to believe she was safe.
He twisted hard, trying to break the hold, but the rival was fresh and furious. The male’s tail wrapped around Klari’s, pinning it, while his arms tightened even more .
Darkness crept in faster. Klari’s markings flickered weakly, silver threads stuttering across his chest.
Then he saw it — out the corner of his eye.
The underwater current.
A swirling tunnel of disturbed water glowing with faint phosphorescence, cutting through the open sea just ahead.
The same one that had torn them apart earlier. Lethal if you got caught in it.
Klari’s mind sharpened through the haze.
He stopped fighting the hold and started fighting for position.
With the last of his strength, he angled their struggling bodies toward the current.
The rival’s back was to it — he couldn’t see the danger.
Klari pushed off a rock outcrop with his tail, using the rival’s own momentum against him, driving them both closer to the glowing tunnel.
The rival felt the pull and snarled, trying to correct course, but it was too late.
The current caught the edge of his tail.
He roared in surprise, grip loosening just a fraction as he fought to stay out of the swirling vortex.
Klari felt the pressure on his throat ease by a precious inch. Oxygen — water — rushed back into his gills in a desperate gulp.
But the rival was strong. He clawed at Klari’s arms, trying to maintain the choke while kicking away from the current. His eyes were wide with fury and sudden fear and?—
BOOM!
A deep, thunderous explosion rolled through the water. The shockwave slammed into them like a physical blow, shoving both males sideways. Debris and bubbles exploded outward in a violent cloud .
Greta?
The thought flashed through Klari’s mind — sharp, terrified, hopeful. But there was no time to dwell on it.
The rival’s grip loosened further from the surprise of the blast.
Klari made the most of it.
He twisted violently, breaking the chokehold completely. Before the rival could recover, Klari spun and slammed both heels into the male’s chest with every ounce of remaining power he had.
The rival’s eyes bulged in sudden panic.
He flew backward — straight into the heart of the underwater current.
He clawed desperately at the water, tail thrashing, trying to fight the invisible force dragging him deeper into the glowing tunnel.
His mouth opened in a silent scream as the current spun him, sucking him in faster and faster.
But he kept fighting, kept holding on. He was on the verge of escape, claws scraping at the calmer water just beyond the vortex.
Klari surged forward and belted him across the face with a savage backhand.
The rival’s head snapped sideways. His body went limp.
And the current took him.
It swallowed the male whole, spinning his unconscious form deeper into the glowing tunnel until he disappeared into the darkness.
Klari hung in the water, chest heaving, blood streaming from a dozen wounds. His gills burned. His vision swam. Every muscle screamed with exhaustion.
But he was alive.
And the rival was gone .
He turned slowly toward the direction the explosion had come from.
Greta.
The thought cut through the pain like a blade. It must have been the ship. There was nothing else that could have made an explosion like that.
He didn’t know what had happened at the wreck, but he knew she was there. He could feel it in his bones.
He started swimming.
His strokes were weak at first, tail barely responding, but determination hardened into something fiercer with every painful movement.
Blood trailed behind him in long, dark ribbons. His markings flickered dimly, silver threads struggling to stay lit.
He kept his eyes down, looking into that deep darkness below. He didn’t want another Veyr’khal to descend upon him now.
The ocean felt endless. The wreck was farther than he thought. Every stroke sent fresh agony through his torn muscles and reopened gashes. But he kept going.
Because she was there.
Because she had told him she loved him.
Because he had promised — silently, in every look, every touch, every time he had put himself between her and death — that he would always come for her.
The water grew darker as he approached the wreck site. Debris floated past him — twisted metal, chunks of coral, clouds of silt.
The explosion had torn a massive hole in the aft section. The ship was listing badly, half-buried again in the sand, but still recognizable.
Klari’s heart clenched .
He pushed harder, ignoring the way his vision kept graying out at the edges.
“Greta…” he rasped into the water, voice barely carrying.
No answer.
He circled the wreck, tail moving slower now, scanning every breach, every shadow.
And then he saw her.