Page 25 of Whispers of the Deep
Finally, he saw her shadow moving above him. He wasn’t quite certain what she was doing, and he took a moment to uncoil himself and watch as she moved back and forth along the opening into the water. Her strange flippers took her from one section to the other, and he could see the faint outline of her arms moving.
Was she talking to herself? Strange beast. No one was here to listen to her.
Unless she knew he was here.
In which case, she should know he couldn’t hear her. The water dampened most sound and made it impossible for him to hear anything other than the faintest burble.
Flipping his tail over, he glided through the water and soundlessly breached the surface. He watched her with narrowed eyes while she paced. Back and forth. Moving through the air as smoothly as he did the water.
She was muttering. He had no idea what she was saying, but the cadence and fervor of it seemed to be repeated. Over and over again. As though she was repeating the same thing.
He’d never understand this strange creature.
Pinching his pointer finger and thumb, he flicked water at her. A few droplets sailed through the air and splashed against her bare fins, suddenly reminding him that he’d intended to go back and get those additional flippers she’d used to speed her movement. At least that would be helpful for her.
She let out a frustrated noise and glared at him.
Oh, how he adored that expression. She wanted to fight him. He could see that. She wanted to reach into the water, rip him out of it, and gut him just like he’d gutted the fish for her. Thankfully, it would take a lot more than her meager claws to do that to him.
Still, he couldn’t help but goad her.
“You think you are such a warrior?” he asked, the spines in his fins raising. “Such a shame, achromo. If you step foot in this water, I will rip you apart. The waters will turn red with your blood, and I will watch it plume from your wounds?—”
A small pebble hit him in the center of his forehead. Freezing where he was, he touched a hand to the now stinging part of his skull. Had she just thrown a rock at him?
Apparently so. This fearless little creature had no problem at all rising to the occasion of his threat. She stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at him.
And then she started talking. He didn’t need to understand her to know what she was saying, because she was surprisingly succinct with her gestures.
She wanted to kill him. And if he came close to her at all, she would throw another rock at him and then... Well, she drew a finger across her throat, so he could only assume that was even more of a threat.
Sighing, he wondered if she realized that his people never backed down from an offer to fight. He was a warrior, a true warrior, not just some little pale scraggly thing with weak fins and tiny flippers. He could so easily destroy her.
And yet, here she was. Acting more confident than she had any right to. Foolish achromo. He almost admired her bravery.
But for now, he needed to prove a point.
Lunging forward, he flicked his tail hard and catapulted himself out of the water. She let out a harsh, shrieking noise that grated on his ears, but that attack did not stop him. It only took the slightest movement to grab onto her arm, and even less effort to throw her across the cave and into the water.
She hadn’t been far enough away from him. In truth, he’d thought that she was likely a little farther than he could reach, but she wasn’t. His tail was still in the water partially after he’d thrown her, just enough to drag himself back into the depths and sink beneath them.
He wanted to see the frustration on her face. He wanted to feel some perverse sense of glee at her turmoil and fear. But instead of scenting fear in the water, as he’d expected, he only scented her rage.
She stayed underneath the surface longer than he’d expected, as well. She lingered, the salt water scooping up her hair in a billowing cloud of red around her features. And oh, he hated that he had the momentary thought that she might even be lovely.
That silver skin she swore looked very similar to many fish in the sea. It glimmered with every one of her movements, even the tiniest twitches that she used to turn herself toward him. And he much preferred her like this. With her face bared for him to see, and her eyes slightly squinted in the saltwater.
She was... lovely. Damn it. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, but she really was. The kelp tangled around her legs and the golden light made her turn into a hue that his people so rarely saw. She was a rare and delicate creature, if a little ugly, and he had captured her.
Long ago, his people hunted for their brides. They chased and prowled and fought each other for the right to win a woman’s heart, and apparently there was still some part of that inside him. His nature screamed that he had claimed her.
This woman was his.
He’d hunted her.
He’d bested her.
And now, she was his to do with as he wished.
