Page 22 of Drenched

Three dark crescents stared back. They didn’t look like regular bruises; they looked carved in. My stomach twisted. I wanted to hate them, hate him for putting them there. But a tiny part of me didn’t. A tiny part of me liked them. And I hated myself for that.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shake off the feeling. Maybe it was fear. Or something worse, curiosity, longing. I felt sick, but I couldn’t deny it. He was still there, in the shadows, just out of sight. Watching. Waiting.

And that kiss, if you could call it that. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t kind. He didn’t ask; he took. Like it was his right. He filled my lungs with himself. A claim that settled in my chest and wouldn’t let go. I could still feel it, that thread tying me to him, pulling me back no matter how hard I tried to forget.

I sank onto the bed, my eyes drifting to the window as I clutched my mom’s necklace. The storm raged outside, wind and rainbattering the glass. I don’t know when I fell asleep. One moment I was staring into the dark, the next, I was sinking into water, black as ink, endless in every direction.

The algae’s glow flickered weakly, a thin thread of light struggling to survive. It barely pushed back the darkness, just enough to show how vast it was. Then his eyes appeared. Two black pits, opening slowly, pulling me in like a rip current. Resistance felt pointless, a formality my body couldn’t maintain.

I tried to move. Nothing happened. The water coiled around me, clinging to every inch of skin, keeping me still. He drew closer, and my chest tightened, a need to gasp swelling inside me even though I didn’t need to breathe.

When he finally emerged from the shadows, my mind stalled. He was beautiful in a way that didn’t belong here. His pale, almost glowing skin rippled with sharp ridges along his neck and shoulders, like the sea had shaped him with a cruel, careful hand. Fins spread along his back and arms, the delicate webs shifting as though alive.

His hands hovered near my waist, claws poised, promising ruin. A tremor rolled through me, heat pooling low in my stomach. His fingers grazed my hips, the cold bite making me shudder. It wasn’t pain I knew how to name. It was something raw, a whisper of danger my body shouldn’t crave.

He leaned in, his face inches from mine. The cold of his breath brushed my lips, sharp and biting. He didn’t hesitate. His mouth crashed onto mine, taking, claiming, devouring. There was no gentleness. No permission. Just possession.

My lips gave way to him, caught in the pull of his demand. His tongue explored my mouth with a possessiveness that mademy pulse quicken. A molten heat pooled inside me, driving me closer, though my mind clawed at the edges, desperate to stop.

He broke away just enough to speak and his voice came as a low growl against my lips. “Mine.”

The word sent fire through me. He trailed his mouth down my neck, his teeth scraping sensitive skin. My breath caught, each inhale shallow and shaky. When his teeth sank in, pain flared, sharp, electric, then melted into something hotter, deeper. A gasp tore from me, part shock, part desperate want.

Heat flooded every nerve, my body arching against him. His tongue traced the marks, slow and deliberate, each stroke setting me alight. My fingers dug into his arms, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

He didn’t stop. His teeth held me there, his grip unyielding, like he was savoring every tremor that wracked my body. Thought dissolved. All that was left was his mouth, his hands, and the ache spreading through me.

Finally, he pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. Dark. Endless. Claiming me completely.

And I let him.

Chapter Nine

The lab felt like the only place left, even if being there didn’t help much. The storm hadn’t let up, just like Tanya said it wouldn’t. And the villagers were still out there, waiting, patient as ever.

I adjusted my glasses, wiping a smudge off the lens with my sweater. The scarf scratched against my neck, but I couldn’t take it off. Not after this morning. The marks had changed, darker, hotter, like they were sinking deeper into my skin. Every time I touched them, they pulsed, slow and deliberate, with a heartbeat of their own.

Kim’s voice pulled me back. “It’s going.” She gripped the counter, eyes fixed on the algae jars. “The glow’s going away.”

She was right. The algae wasn’t glowing like yesterday. A dull greenish tint swirled sluggishly in the liquid. It looked sick, barely alive.

“We need to test it,” Kim said, grabbing her notebook. Her hands moved with urgency. “Now. Before we lose it completely.”

I wanted to argue. Testing the algae wasn’t our biggest problem right now, but the words stuck. I nodded. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

The mice were the first hurdle. They weren’t sick yet, and feeding them the algae raw wouldn’t prove anything. We had to make them sick first, see if the algae could heal them.

Jaime helped Kim prep the syringes while I set up the cages. Willy was first. He was old, his fur patchy, his movements slow. I cradled him in my hands, feeling the tremor of his tiny body.

“Sorry, buddy,” I whispered.

Kim slid the needle into the loose skin at the back of his neck. Willy squeaked, a sharp, weak sound, but he didn’t struggle.

The next mouse fought harder, scratching my thumb and leaving a thin red line. Jaime held it down, his jaw clenched. “Little fighter.”

When we finished, all three mice had been injected with a mild bacterial infection. Strong enough to weaken them, not strong enough to kill.

We waited.

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