What would Eva’s hair look like under the morning light? Human hair seemed to lose much of its shine when wet; would hers remain light brown or favor the glowing gold of sunrise when it was dry?

He snapped his head from side to side, hoping to shake away those thoughts. Despite his best efforts, his mind returned to her repeatedly. He should have gone to her again over the last few days, shouldn’t have allowed her outburst to drive him away. She was lost, but it was not too late for her. She could be found again. She could come back from the dark place into which she’d sunk.

After checking the second bundle of traps, Vasil flashed yellow, catching Kronus’s attention. He signed quickly.

You check the others. I will watch.

Vasil kept his coloring natural, his movements unhurried, but there was something in his eyes that unsettled Kronus despite its lack of malice — a knowing gleam.

Offering no argument, Kronus nodded and swam to the next set of traps. He went about his work absently; though he willed himself to focus, his mind refused to remain on task. Images of Eva’s blue eyes flitted through his memory; blue eyes filled with pain, sorrow, and despair, devoid of the joy and curiosity with which they’d shone when he first saw her.

When the traps had all been checked, Vasil and Kronus returned to the boat. Vasil and Breckett hauled up the final string of traps together, opened them, and dumped the hardshells they contained into a waiting basket that was already half-filled with the creatures. Kronus rebaited the empty traps, and Breckett lowered them into the water.

Soon, Breckett was directing the boat along the coast toward the next trapping area.

“You seem distracted,” Vasil said.

Kronus didn’t have to look up from the water to know Vasil’s eyes were upon him. He clenched his jaw and fought the reflexive color change threatening to overcome his skin. “I amfine.”

Vasil was silent.

Growling, Kronus swung his gaze to the other kraken. Their eyes locked. Vasil maintained his silence, his muted coloration, and his scrutiny.

“It is none of your concern,” Kronus spat.

Breckett cleared his throat, but the two kraken did not break eye contact with one another.

“We work together and hunt together,” Vasil finally said. “Your ability to focusismy concern, because I am depending upon you for support, just as you depend upon me.”

“And when have I ever wavered in my duty?” Kronus demanded. “Everything I have done has been—” he snapped his mouth shut before he finished. His hearts pounded against his ribs, and his skin had taken on a reddish hue.

This wasn’t the time or place.

“For our people,” Vasil said softly.

“What?” Kronus grasped the boat railing to ease the trembling of his hand.

“You have done everything for the good of our people. You were wrong in much of what you said and did, but I believe you acted — at least most of the time — for the benefit of the kraken.” Vasil betrayed no outward sign of agitation or distress; Kronus found himself suddenly resentful of the other kraken’s calm.

“I did not request your thoughts on those matters.” Kronus’s claws sank into the wood and his tentacles writhed in agitation as he turned back toward the water.

“But you have it now, regardless.”

“This behavior is unlike you, Vasil,” Kronus warned. “Make your challenge if you intend violence, or else shut your mouth.”

Vasil’s heavy gaze lingered on Kronus, a weight that made his skin itch. But he would not scratch, would not shift in place, would not display any sign of discomfort or weakness. Part of Kronus longed for a challenge, for a battle like he’d not fought in two years, for the sting of an opponent’s strikes and the thrill of his own blows connecting with flesh.

More than that, he wanted to leave this boat and return to The Watch. Whether it was to retreat to the isolation of his den or visit Eva at the clinic he could not say.

“Have you kept up on the girl you rescued, Kronus?” Breckett asked. By his tone, he simply hoped to steer the conversation away from the sudden tension between the kraken, but the question struck Kronus like a slap across the face. It was too relevant to the thoughts that had been consuming him.

Kronus’s jaw muscles ticked. “Yes.”

“And…how’s she doing? I heard Doc had to take off her leg.”

“Poorly, and he did.” Kronus folded his arms across his chest.

“Ah.”