She had run away from him, not even glancing back over her shoulder. Her father studied him appraisingly, and he was reminded of the stories of humans who kidnapped children. He was not one of those—he only wanted to protect her. He would watch over her until she was grown and then…
“He’s just looking out for me, Dad,” he heard Edythe explain, so he shut down his next thought. Already she could hear him. He would not give away something that might scare her. She was much too young. He would be her best friend, but that was it. He would not frighten the most important being in his world.
As the distance grew between them, and he watched her disappear into the tall dune grass leading back to the houses set away from the beach, a growing ache began in his chest. The farther she moved, the greater the ache, until the pain ripped at his chest. He rubbed it, frightened and overwhelmed. He knew some mates spoke about the discomfort of being apart, but he never realized it was this searing hurt. He looked back longingly at the ocean, but he couldn’t ignore the drive, the instinct, demanding he follow her where she went.
And so he did, and everything changed.
He’d lingered outside her house, watching her for days. He saw her sit on the swing, play in the yard. He tried to keep his inner thoughts silent, but it was hard. He was confused, and he didn’t want to do anything to unnerve her.
He’d been so entirely focused on Edythe he didn’t sense her father watching him, planning and plotting. He didn’t realize he was in danger until the net fell over him, and he was dragged into a bright, steaming room. The air itself sapped his strength, leaving him unable to fight, and he was injected with toxins that paralyzed his body.
What followed were days filled with torture and unceasing pain. His scales were torn from his body, or cut, or pried off with blunt instruments. Edythe’s father watched raptly when he healed, and with even more interest when he didn’t.
He had never been so ashamed. What kind of male was he, unable to fight a human? Who didn’t even hear a human before he was captured? Worse, in his pain, he had cried out—screamed, if he was honest—and Edythe heard him.
And found him.
His face was beyond mending, and his body close to giving out. He wondered that night if he wished to die, and decided he did. Thoughts of his future with Edythe never crossed his mind; there was only agony.
How she’d known to care for him, he could never figure out. Perhaps it was trial and error. She turned on the lights, blinding him, but then seeing his discomfort, she turned them back off. The next night she arrived with a flashlight. She also returned with a needle and thread. She washed his wounds when she first found him, but the water dried his skin. He could feel his organs aching, and the next night, she brought salt.
“You could have told me who you were,” she’d whispered, as she sewed on one scale after another. “I wouldn’t have been so rude if I knew the tide pool belonged to you.”
Linc was shocked into laughter. The tide pool was not mine.
She looked at him then, half disbelieving, half annoyed, and he laughed again before realizing she could hear him. He was mortified. His mate, still only a child, heard him cry out like a youngling and came to his rescue. He was glad no other knew of his shame.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” She wrung out a rag saturated with salt water over his skin. “Get better so you can leave here.”
He’d wanted to leave; there was no point denying it. He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. But his body would not let him leave. If he even thought about it, the pain began again. The only time it alleviated was when Edythe was present, healing him or sitting against the bars, watching him.
The daytime had been the worst. He ached with remembered pain. He was weak, undernourished, and healing. He knew what the nights would bring, and he knew his respite from her father was brief. There were others who took part in his torture, though they never lifted a finger against him. He would position a camera, and voices would fill the room.
What happens if you...?
Does he make a sound if you...?
He never saw their faces, but he would never forget their voices and the torment he suffered because of them.
Now he was alone. He had no family, and Edythe was gone. He’d brought her back to her home, but it was already in flames. The emergency vehicles screamed down the street, their lights flashing and horns blaring. Neighbors spilled onto porches, running toward her house, crying out. He left her there, knowing it was the right thing to do. He couldn't take her with him. She was just a child, and a human. She couldn't survive in his home.
He hadn’t known when he left her that he'd never see her again. Leaving her there, watching EMTs load her onto an ambulance and take her away, was the hardest thing he ever did. He was not male enough to care for her. He could not protect her.