Page 84 of Jewel of the Sea

Sighing in relief, Aymee tightened her hold on him, crossing her ankles at his back. He kept an arm around her as he swam. With his free hand, he grabbed the dead creature’s tail and dragged it alongside them.

* * *

The base’s infirmary was much smaller than the one in the Facility — this place had three examination tables rather than beds, all of them adjustable in a variety of ways and possessing numerous attachments for tools Arkon couldn’t identify, and several storage cabinets along one wall. Despite its age, everything in the room exuded newness, as though none of it had ever been used; understandable, as the base had never entered full operation. That sense was heightened by the pure white of the overhead lights.

“This isn’t necess—” Arkon bit off his words with a hiss as Aymee dabbed more of the pungent liquid onto one of his wounds. It hurt worse than when the cut had been opened. The ends of his tentacles writhed over the floor.

“How is it not necessary? Some of these look like they need stitches, Arkon!”

Aymee had insisted on bringing him to the infirmary to tend his wounds. He’d delayed, more concerned with taking care of the meat once he confirmed she was unharmed apart from the bruise on her back. They’d hauled the sandseeker out of the water with ropes and hooks, and he’d cut as much meat as he could from it; Aymee glared at him until after he’d stored everything in the freezer.

“I will heal, Aymee,” he replied. “My wounds are minor.”

She gestured to one of the deeper cuts, then carefully cleaned the blood oozing from around it. “This is not minor.”

He winced, muscles tensing.

Better myself than her.

Though they were at least an hour beyond the attack, Arkon’s nerves had little settled. His memory insisted upon reviewing those terrifying moments repeatedly. Fear kept his blood cold, and his hearts thumped. The first time he’d taken her out, and his stupidity had nearly cost Aymee her life.

“I am not human, Aymee,” he said through his teeth, too harshly. “Your standards do not fit me, in most cases.”

Aymee flinched and lowered the cloth. “No, you’re not. Sometimes I forget how different we really are.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, averting her eyes. “But youarewounded and bleeding. I’ve seen people die from cuts smaller than this.”

“And I watched you nearly get killed!” He lashed out with a tentacle, knocking the metal cart — and the medical supplies upon it — to the floor. “If my blood is the price to keep you safe, I will gladly pay it again and again. But if I had been as attentive as I should have you would never have been in danger to begin with.” His shoulders heaved as he breathed through clenched teeth. Had such anger ever flowed through him? Such disappointment in himself?

She’d chosen him as her mate, as her lover. And he had proven himself, at best, an incompetent protector.

She stared at him silently, though her eyes softened, and some of his anger dissipated. “Wasn’t it me who didn’t obey?” Aymee knelt, righted the cart, and replaced the items that had fallen from its top. When she stood up, she dabbed his arm with a fresh cloth.

“You moved to signal me of danger, didn’t you? Do you think I can fault you for that?”

“No.” She set the cloth aside and frowned as her eyes roamed over his numerous wounds.

“I brought you into my world, and I failed to keep you safe.”

“I’m here, Arkon, and so are you. That is not failure.”

“My inattentiveness put you at risk!”

“You once told me that life has little meaning without risks.”

Arkon dropped his gaze and clenched his fists at his sides. Having his own words thrown at him was like a physical blow; though he’d spoken them only a couple weeks before, they’d been uttered during another life. Before he had something too valuable to lose.

He inhaled deeply and took her hands in his, meeting her eyes. “And now life would have little meaning without you, Aymee.”

She stepped closer, tucking her head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her; his Aymee was here, with him, whole.

“I was aware of the danger, just like you knew how dangerous it was for you every time we met on that beach. You’re worth the risk, Arkon.” Her breath was warm against his throat.

Frowning, he slid a hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head, holding her closer. She kissed his neck, and he closed his eyes. Now he understood how Jax must have felt when Macy was attacked by a razorback — the sense of helplessness, the gut-wrenching terror. He tried to push those emotions aside, to calm his frayed nerves, but a lump of dread lingered in his stomach.

“If you weren’t aware of the sandseeker, why were you trying to get my attention?” he asked, combing his claws through her hair. It was an oddly soothing action; a simple, concrete reassurance of her presence, of her wellbeing.

“I saw a boat.”

His hand stilled. Tumultuous thoughts roiled through his mind, a hundred questions and a thousand possible explanations, all lacking any semblance of certainty.

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