Destan's fingers curled into a fist, his knuckles cracking as his punch collided with the cold stone of a crumbling column. The force sent a dull vibration through his arm, but he didn't care. The ancient column, weathered by centuries beneath the sea, shuddered, bits of debris drifting into the water like falling ash.

"It's all my fault," he muttered, his forehead pressed hard against the cool stone. His breath came in shallow bursts, his chest heaving with frustration. "If I'd rebelled sooner... if I'd just rebelled—"

His fingers scraped along the rough surface, his nails catching on bits of coral and cracks in the stone. His eyes squeezed shut, blocking out the endless blue that surrounded him. No amount of water could drown out the storm inside him.

He could still see it. Ren's lifeless face, pale like sun-bleached driftwood, her breath shallow, her eyes barely open. Blood swirling around her like threads of silk unraveling in the tide. His heart twisted at the memory. It was his fault. His hesitation had caused this.

The distant toll of a gong echoed above him, deep and reverberating like the call of an ancient beast. Destan's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto the looming figure of a temple bell far above. It hung there, untouched, unmoving, until now.

His eyes sharpened.

That's it.

An idea bloomed in his mind like the first light of dawn, illuminating the one path he hadn't dared to take. His heart pounded harder, his resolve solidifying. He would save her. No matter what it cost him. No matter what he had to become.

If I must defy the sea itself, then so be it.

******************

"Aceso Marine Wilson!"

Ace's head shot up from her bed, the sound of her full name grating on her nerves. Her eyes locked onto Samantha, who stood at the entrance of their suite, arms crossed, foot tapping like an impatient metronome.

"What?" Ace muttered, closing her Medical Terminology book and glaring at her best friend.

"I told you to get dressed for tonight's party!" Samantha snapped, storming in and yanking open Ace's suitcase with the ferocity of a hurricane. A second later, she held up a tiny sky-blue bikini — one that Sam had practically forced her to buy before the trip.

"No." Ace buried her face in the pillow. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, yes." Sam marched toward her like an unstoppable force of nature. "It's Spring Break, girl. You're supposed to party, go wild, and make decisions you'll question for the rest of your life!" She grabbed Ace's wrist and pulled her from the bed with surprising strength.

"I don't want to party," Ace groaned, dragging her feet as Sam shoved her toward the bathroom door. "I want to sleep. I want peace. I want—"

"You want to be boring," Sam interjected, flicking on the bathroom light. "But guess what, you're not in your dorm anymore. You're on a cruise ship with thousands of shirtless guys and free drinks. So, go shower, put that bikini on, and let me work my magic."

Ace shot her a glare but knew resistance was futile. Arguing with Sam is like arguing with the ocean tide.

The hot water stung at first but soon eased the tension in her muscles. Her mind, however, didn't relax. Her reflection stared back at her in the foggy mirror, and for a moment, she didn't recognize herself. Her dark eyes were heavy from sleepless nights, her tangled hair sticking up in wild tufts.

By the time Sam was done with her, Ace barely recognized herself again — but for a different reason. Her hair was sleek and smooth, her pale skin glowing in the low light of the cabin. Her lips were tinted a soft pink, bringing a delicate warmth to her sharp features.

"There she is," Sam said, hands on her hips, beaming like a proud artist admiring her finished masterpiece. "Now, come on. It's time to hunt."

Ace rolled her eyes but followed her friend to the upper deck. The sound of pulsing music hit her like a wall, vibrating through the soles of her feet. People packed the deck, bodies pressed together, grinding to the heavy bass. The smell of saltwater, sweat, and alcohol filled the air. Her pulse quickened.

Her grip on Sam's hand tightened.

"Relax," Sam said with a grin, pulling her through the crowd. "It's just like med school, except with less stress and more music."

Ace didn't answer. Her breath was coming too fast. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a clear path through the chaos.

"Sam?" she called, her voice barely carrying over the thumping beat. "Sam, slow down!"

But the crowd surged, and Ace's hand slipped free.

Her heart spiked with panic.

"Sam? Sam?!" she shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the music. People laughed, spun, and swayed all around her, their faces blurred in the flashing lights.

Calm down, Ace. Find the edge of the deck. You'll be fine.

She pushed through the crowd, breath shallow, heart hammering. At last, she reached the edge. Cool sea air hit her face, filling her lungs with salt and calm. Her hands gripped the cold metal railing as she leaned forward, her breath heavy but steady.

"Are you alright?"

Ace flinched, her head snapping to the side. A man stood beside her, his skin glistening with droplets of water. Muscles carved like stone, eyes sharp and blue as tropical seas. His long white hair, slick with water, was tied in an intricate braid that framed his chiseled jawline.

She blinked, her heart stuttering in her chest.

"Y-Yeah," she croaked, gripping the rail harder than necessary. Keep it together, Ace.

"Good," he said, his voice smooth like polished coral. "Then tell me where the healing chambers are."

Her brow furrowed. "You mean the first aid room?"

He nodded once.

Ace shrugged. "Sure. I'll show you." Might as well, since I'm not getting back through that mess anyway.

They reached a small white door with a red cross emblem. Ace opened it and stepped back.

"There. All yours," she said, turning to leave.

But she didn't get far.

A hand wrapped around her waist like an iron shackle, yanking her back with such force she gasped. Panic surged through her veins as the door slammed shut. No. No, no, no, no.

"Let me go!" she screamed, twisting and kicking, but his hold was unyielding.

Then, he released her. She stumbled forward, catching herself on the wall before spinning around, eyes blazing with fury.

"What the hell is your problem?!" she yelled, glaring at him with more anger than fear.

He didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned the shelves of medical supplies. When he finally spoke, his tone was calm but firm.

"I need you to help me. You're human. You know how these tools work."

Ace's jaw clenched. How does he know that?

Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest, but she didn't show it. "What kind of injury are you talking about?"

He didn't look at her when he answered. His eyes stayed locked on the supplies, his voice a broken whisper.

"She has a spear in her stomach."

Her breath stopped. She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"A spear?" Her voice cracked. "What is this, 10,000 B.C.?!"

He glanced at her, his face hard but haunted. "She's dying. It's my fault."

Those words hit something deep inside her. Her heart ached, unspoken memories surfacing like ghosts.

She bit her lip, grabbed a first aid kit, and threw it into a plastic bag. "You're in luck. I know what to do."

She turned toward the door, ready to leave.

Then the sharp, sweet smell hit her nose. It was faint but unmistakable. Her vision swayed. Her legs buckled.

No. Not like this.

Her vision blurred as the man's face hovered above hers. His eyes, so blue, watched her with quiet regret.

Don't close your eyes, Ace.

But she couldn't stop it. Darkness swept over her like a crashing wave.

Her last thought was bitter and sharp.

I should have stayed in bed.