Chapter 172: Seri

Seri

The first thing I became aware of was movement.

Not violent movement.

Not the crashing chaos of battle.

A steady rocking.

Gentle.

Rhythmic.

Water.

For several long seconds, I simply floated there in the darkness, letting the sensation carry me. Everything felt distant, as though I was surfacing from the bottom of an impossibly deep ocean.

Then pain arrived.

Sharp.

Sudden.

Very familiar.

I groaned.

Apparently getting shot still hurt.

Who would have guessed?

The sarcastic thought drifted through my foggy brain before reality finally caught up.

My arm.

It was my arm.

Specifically my left bicep.

The moment I tried to move it, a fresh bolt of pain shot through me and made me suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck.”

Yep. I had been shot by the same assholes.

Again.

Honestly, at this point it was becoming a habit.

My eyes opened.

The pale gray light of dawn stretched across the horizon, turning the ocean silver and pink. The dinghy rocked gently beneath me, and for one glorious second I simply stared at the sky.

Alive.

Still alive.

That seemed promising.

The steady rumble of engines vibrated through the deck beneath me.

Someone shouted something up ahead.

Water sprayed against the hull.

The smell of salt filled the air.

Slowly, painfully, I pushed myself upright.

Immediately regretted it.

The world tilted.

A hand appeared on my shoulder before I could fall back over.

Nymora.

"Easy."

Her voice sounded tired and still full of nerves.

I blinked at her.

Then looked around.

The deck looked like a disaster.

Blood.

Bandages.

Weapons.

The broken selkies.

Finn stood at the helm.

His leg looked even worse than before.

Ronan lay bundled beneath blankets near the stern.

Nali was sleeping nearby.

And—

My heart nearly stopped.

Caiden.

He was alive.

Curled beneath a blanket only a few feet away.

Still unconscious.

But alive.

Relief flooded through me so intensely that my eyes burned.

Nymora followed my gaze.

"He's okay."

I nodded.

Not trusting my voice.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

Then she glanced toward my arm.

"How do you feel?"

I considered the question.

"Tired."

Nymora laughed softly.

A sound somewhere between amusement and exhaustion.

"That's probably an understatement."

"Maybe."

My arm throbbed.

My head felt stuffed with wool.

Every muscle in my body ached.

But I was alive.

Caiden was alive.

That was enough.

Eventually I managed to look around properly.

"Where are we?"

"The coordinates. We need to grab our cloaks.”

Memory came rushing back.

The rocks.

The underwater ledge.

Finn hiding them beneath the sea.

Nymora nodded toward the water.

"We're almost there."

I sat up a little straighter.

Immediately regretted that too.

Apparently every movement now came with consequences.

The dinghy gradually slowed.

The engine's growl softened.

Then softened further.

Until Finn shut it down entirely.

Silence settled across the water.

Only waves remained.

Nymora stood.

"We don't have much time."

The seriousness in her voice caught my attention.

"What happened?"

Her expression darkened.

"As we were leaving..."

She glanced toward the horizon.

"I heard engines."

My stomach dropped.

"Their ship?"

"Maybe. I think that they may have split up. Some followed us and the others made sure they could follow if they weren’t successful.”

The answer wasn't reassuring.

Some of the poachers definitely had survived.

We'd hit them hard.

Hard enough to cripple the camp.

Hard enough to rescue the prisoners.

But not hard enough to eliminate every threat.

Not hard enough to make them disappear.

Not yet.

"They may be trying to intercept us."

The words settled heavily over the deck.

Because we all knew what that meant.

The mission wasn't over.

Not even close.

The rescue had only been the first half.

Nymora moved before anyone could say anything else.

Without hesitation, she stripped off her outer layers and climbed onto the railing.

Then dove.

The splash echoed across the otherwise quiet sea.

For several moments, nothing happened.

The water settled.

The horizon remained empty.

The boat drifted gently.

I found myself holding my breath.

Come on.

Come on.

A shape emerged beneath the surface.

Nymora surfaced moments later with a bundle clutched tightly against her chest.

Water streamed from her as Finn hurried forward to help pull both her and the bundle onto the deck. The rope came undone quickly beneath practiced fingers, revealing the three seal-skin cloaks they had hidden before the mission.

Nymora's.

Iona's.

Finn's.

The sight still brought visible relief to all of them.

Finn immediately grabbed his cloak and draped it across his shoulders.

Iona did the same.

Nymora wrung seawater from hers before wrapping it around her waist.

For the first time since I'd woken, I saw some of the tension leave their faces.

Not much.

Just enough.

The rest of the cloaks were safe.

Hidden hundreds of miles away in Graham's cottage.

Caiden's.

Ronan's.

Protected in Ireland where the poachers would never think to look for them.

The plan had worked.

At least that part had.

I followed the thought automatically toward Caiden.

He was still unconscious beside me.

The bruising along his face looked even worse in the growing daylight, and his missing finger sent another wave of fury through me.

I carefully reached over with my good hand and brushed a lock of tangled hair from his forehead.

"You better wake up soon," I whispered.

The words caught slightly in my throat.

"Because I'm running out tears. I need you.”

Then suddenly Nymora froze.

The change was immediate enough that it made every hair on the back of my neck stand up.

One second she was adjusting her cloak.

The next she was staring at the horizon.

Every muscle in her body went rigid.

Finn noticed instantly.

His eyes followed hers.

Then he swore.

Quietly.

But with enough feeling that my stomach immediately dropped.

"What?"

Nobody answered.

Which somehow felt worse.

I pushed myself upright despite the pain shooting through my arm.

The movement made me dizzy, but I forced myself to look.

At first I saw nothing.

Just water.

Just dawn.

Just endless ocean stretching toward the horizon.

Then—

A shape.

Dark.

Distant.

Moving.

The silhouette was barely visible against the morning light, but there was no mistaking it once I saw it.

A vessel.

Large.

Fast.

Coming directly toward us.

My pulse immediately accelerated.

The engines were still too far away for me to hear clearly, but the speed alone was enough to tell us everything we needed to know.

Nymora's expression darkened.

"They found us."

The words settled over the deck like a storm cloud.

Finn immediately moved toward the helm.

Iona looked for her sword.

My gaze shifted back toward Caiden.

Toward Ronan.

Toward Nali.

Three prisoners who had barely survived captivity.

Three people who could not possibly fight if another battle started.

My stomach twisted.

We had done everything right.

We had found them.

Rescued them.

Escaped.

And somehow it still wasn't over.

The vessel continued cutting through the water in the distance, growing larger with every passing second.

And as dawn fully broke across the ocean, I realized the rescue mission had become something else entirely.

Now we were all the ones being hunted.