Page 3 of Bred By the Barge

Without warning, a massive wave smacks into us from behind. By sheer force of will, I keep my sister pinned between me and the barrel as water batters us from all directions. When we finally reach the surface, we both gasp and choke.

Darkness hovers along the edge of my vision. I study Gem’s features as lightning streaks across the sky.

No blood seeps from her lips.

I didn’t hurt her. The blood came from my hand.

She gives a weak cough and closes her eyes.

“Stay awake, Gem!”

“I’m tired,” she murmurs.

Panic grips me.

“Me too, but you can’t sleep right now. Stay awake. Help me swim. Kick your legs,” I demand.

For hours, I cling to the barrel and encourage my sister, but when the sea calms, her eyes slip closed. She passes out. Unable to risk tipping us over, I keep my frozen fingers clamped over the splintered wood.

“Look, Gem. The sunrise is so pretty,” I say through a tunnel of exhaustion.

She doesn’t respond, but her chest expands underneath mine, so I continue muttering nonsense. Brilliant colors streak across the sky. The sun heats the top of my head.

Something brushes against the back of my leg. A fin breaks the surface.

I freeze.

We may as well be chum in the water.

At least with our shoes still on, I know fish aren’t nibbling at my sister’s toes, and her hands float along the surface of the water near my shoulders, but the blood oozing from my fingers will call every shark for miles.

In desperation, I scan the horizon for the millionth time and blink in disbelief when a massive rectangle disrupts the waterline. The current pulls us toward it. I look down and decide I must be hallucinating.

Vibrant colors line the sea floor. Teeming with life, the crystal clear water makes determining the depths impossible. It could be ten feet. Twenty. Fifty.

Time distorts.

A shadow spans over my sister’s face. I look up—and up—into eyes as clear and bright as the shallows. Flecks of gold and green shine from his otherwise dark face as his silhouette blocks the sun.

With broad shoulders and a towering frame, he’s the largest alpha I’ve ever seen. Either that, or he’s a god stranded in this cruel dystopian world. Or the first mountain to sprout from the depths of the ocean in centuries. Or —

My mind splinters as the behemoth leans down and proves his strength by pulling me, my sister, and the broken barrel out of the water in one smooth motion. He doesn’t groan at the weight of our waterlogged clothes or hiss at the awkward tangle of limbs. He strides over a net made of thick rope as though it were a solid surface and steps onto a silvery deck. I marvel at the rust-free surface as he drops into a squat and sets us down.

For a moment, relief steals my strength. My head swims and phantom currents tug at my legs. I can’t release the barrel. Can’t roll off Gem. Can’t breathe.

I give in to the darkness hovering along the edge of my vision, only to snap awake in panic.

Sharks. Blood. Fire. Screams.

Agony lances through my fingers as gigantic hands pry them off the barrel. Scarred knuckles fill my vision, but saving my sister is more important than protecting myself, so I shove the male away and throw myself over her in an uncoordinated heap.

“Don’t touch her,” I snarl. My voice doesn’t sound like my own after countless hours of choking on saltwater.

Hard hands grab me and the world shifts. My head spins long after my back hits the deck, but I scramble upright, sink my nails into his leg, and hold on with every ounce of adrenaline pumping through me.

Thick fingers weave into my matted hair and yank my head back.

“Don’t touch her,” I croak through the haze of panic as I tighten my grip on him.

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