Page 52 of Jewel of the Sea

He settled his arm over her shoulders, and Aymee — warm, soft, and vulnerable — leaned into him. Had things gone differently, he might have brought her here one day, if only to show her the massive painting on the lower level’s rear wall. Perhaps they’d have come by boat or fetched one of the diving suits for Aymee to use. Either way, sharing in their mutual appreciation of such works would’ve been worth the journey.

In the relative quiet — the sound of the water lapping the walls was almost gentle here, and wind whispered across the gap overhead — his mind turned to the events on the beach. Had he chosen correctly? Had he handled it as he should have?

What would the hunters tell their comrades, what would they tell the townsfolk?

Arkon thought of the hologram recordings of the last humans in the Facility, of their fast, brutal battles against the kraken. Of the slaughter and the blood.

He could only hope he hadn’t set a similar conflict into motion.

He looked down at Aymee. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep, and her body relaxed against him in sleep. Arkon hadn’t lied; shewasworth all the risks. Jax had defied two peoples because he thought Macy was worth it, and Arkon would do the same without hesitation for Aymee.

There was little value in tormenting himself with questions of what might have happened. The past was finished; they could only move forward from where they were. They were alive and together, and for now, that was enough. That was reason to be thankful.

* * *

The gun fires with a deafening boom.

Aymee’s body jerked, and her eyes snapped open. Her vision cleared; Randall wasn’t dropping into the sand with a shocked expression on his face, she wasn’t on the beach, she wasn’t anywhere familiar. There was no telling how large this place was — most of it was masked by gloom, cast in a palette of drab grays and blacks that made the air feel oppressive and thick. Seawater splashed restlessly against the walls below, and torrents of rainwater poured in from above.

She shivered, and Arkon tightened his arm around her.

“Is it normal for humans to sleep through such noise?” he asked. “The storm began during the night, but you didn’t stir through most of it.”

Tilting her head back, she looked up at him. His face was shadowed, but she caught a hint of the violet in his eyes nonetheless. “When we sleep deep enough.” She winced at the pain speaking caused her and touched her tongue to the inside of her cheek. Her face throbbed — she likely had a nasty bruise — and her entire body ached as she shifted in Arkon’s hold. The air was chilly, and she didn’t want to leave his warmth. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes, a bit. Before the thunder began.” He stretched a few of his tentacles over the floor in front of him. “How do you feel?”

“Sore, though I imagine you feel worse sitting on this concrete.”

He smiled gently. “After a while, I couldn’t feel much of anything at all. A small price to pay for your comfort.”

“Oh!” Remembering his wound, she pushed away, but he didn’t let her move far.

“I am fine, truly. When you are ready to get up, we will get up, but I doubt you’re eager to face the chill.”

“No, I’m not.” She carefully settled against his chest, tucked her arms between their bodies, and drew her knees up. Arkon draped his tentacles over her exposed calves and feet. “Thank you.”

“How do you feel...emotionally?” he asked. “I’d guess you don’t experience situations like the one yesterday very often.”

A flash lit the cavern for an instant, granting her a fleeting glimpse of Arkon’s face. It was followed by a crack of thunder that rattled the stone around them. Bits of debris tumbled from the break in the ceiling and splashed into the water.

“Drained,” she replied, gazing toward the hole. “I’ve dealt with emergencies in the clinic, but this… No, nothing like this.” She frowned and looked back at Arkon. “Areyouokay?”

“I am still angry that you came to harm. Still sorrowful that it ended in violence. But more than any of that, I’m grateful you are safe, and we’re together.” He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her cheek. “As much as I have locked myself away within the Facility, I’ve still shared in the struggles of my people. Our lives are dangerous. The sea is dangerous. It does not surprise me that land is, as well.”

She reached up and took his hand, guiding it down to kiss his knuckles. “I hate that you’re being hunted, and it’ll only be worse now. They’ve seen you.”

Arkon frowned and brushed the pad of his thumb over her skin. “You are the one who has been forced away from your home.”

“I don’t think Cyrus would have done anything. Not with Randall there.”

“He would have.”

“Not if you had left before—” She shook her head; Arkon was right. How could she look back on those events and believe Cyrus wouldn’t have killed her? “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. How is your…” Eyes wide, she stared at Arkon’s chest and tentatively traced her finger over the thin, raised scar that had been an open wound only hours before. “How?”

“I told you I just needed time. It only stayed open for so long yesterday because my movement while swimming wouldn’t allow it to seal.”

“But it’s fully healed! It would take a few weeks for a cut like that to reach this point for a human.”

---