Page 42 of Seas the Day
Then he saw her blue eyes widen. Draxen’s sinuous, dark form thrusted, and his tail—capable of delivering a stunning, electric shock—whipped toward Thalric’s exposed neck.
And Navira moved.
She didn’t shout. She didn’t hesitate. She moved with pure instinct. She threw herself into the space between Thalric and the tail.
No.
The thought screamed through him, but it was too late.
Draxen’s tail, meant for Thalric’s neck, landed awkwardly across Navira’s shoulder and back as she intercepted it. The contact triggered the eel’s defensive shock—a violent, sudden discharge of electricity.
Her body seized. A jolt of agony echoed through the bond, followed by a terrifying, hollow silence. Her eyes, wide and alert, went blank. Her limbs stiffened, then went limp.
She was falling, unconscious, into the deep.
No.
A rage unlike anything Thalric had ever known detonated inside him. It wasn’t hot; it was cold, absolute, and merciless. His wolf forgot Sareth. It forgot Barnacle. It forgot strategy.
It saw only the eel that had hurt his mate.
He lunged at Draxen with a speed that tore the water. His jaws found the eel’s tail where it had touched Navira. He bit down with every ounce of alpha strength, with the crushing force of a predator who had lost everything once and would not lose it again. He felt cartilage and muscle give way. A section of the tail ripped free. Draxen’s sinuous form contorted in pained retreat, fleeing into the darker waters, leaving a cloud of blood and betrayal.
Thalric whirled, his gaze frantic. He saw Sareth, wounded but still arrogant, turning for another attack. But then he saw Sylar’s copper-red wolf form and two other enforcers finally arriving, intercepting the swordfish and the crab, their snarls filling the water.
Thalric didn’t stay. The battle was no longer his. The pack could handle it.
His battle was the limp, sinking form of his mate.
Time compressed into a single, desperate imperative:Get her to shore. Save her.
He swam to her, his massive wolf form gentling as he approached. He could not carry her in his jaws like prey. He had to carry her like the most precious thing in his world. He nudged her body, positioning her. Then, with infinite care, he took the nape of her neck gently between his teeth, the pressure delicate, secure. He cradled her torso with his head, his movements now fluid and urgent rather than violent.
He turned toward the shore, his wolf’s heart hammering against his ribs. Every second she was unconscious was a theft. Every breath she didn’t take was a promise broken.
She protected me.
The thought was a blade twisting in his gut. She, a human without a shifted form, had seen the danger he missed and placed herself in its path. Her bravery had been absolute. Her loyalty, even without the completed bond, had been fierce.
He would not let that act be for nothing. He would not let her light go out.
The shore beckoned, a line of pale sand under the twin moons. He swam for it, his mate secure in his grasp, his world reduced to the rhythmic pull of the water and the fragile weight in his teeth.
Hold on,he pleaded through the bond, though he knew she couldn’t hear it.Just hold on.
TWENTY-NINE
NAVIRA
Consciousness returned as a dream—soft lips on hers, the taste of salt and desperation, a slow, rhythmic pressure on her chest. Her eyelids fluttered open. The twin moons hung above like watchful, luminous eyes in a velvet sky.
Is this death?Navira wondered, the thought floating, serene and detached.A pleasant one, if so.
Then reality crashed through the dream with the violence of a tsunami.
Her body convulsed, a raw, hacking cough tearing from her lungs as seawater erupted from her throat. She turned her head, choking, gasping, the gritty texture of wet sand against her cheek. The pressure on her chest eased.
She was alive, and she was lying on the moonlit beach, Thalric’s powerful frame hovering over her, his face etched with a fear so profound it stripped the Alpha from him, leaving only the man.
