Everywhere smells like him but better, and it’s sending me into more of a tailspin. It makes no sense as to why I’m having this kind of reaction to someone—something’s—smell.

My eyes dart to the crooked archway on the opposite side of the cavern. I half limp to the opening, spreading my blood over stone from the cuts on my feet. If he doesn’t decide to eat me, maybe I’ll die from infection instead.

Or dehydration.

The entrance could be a gateway into hell, a black hole where things go to perish. The light from the main cave doesn’t reach more than a few steps into the tunnel. I swing my blurry stare to the undisturbed pool, swaying from the exhaustion that sank its teeth into me and is gnawing on me like a dog with a fresh kill.

The monster could return at any second. If I want to get out of here, I need to do it now.

I take a step forward, muttering a string of profanities.

He left.

That creature actually left.

Without me. Without any response or weak attempt at assurance that he won’t leave me here and check up on me once a day to drop off food and take his pound of flesh. I can’t fathom why else he’d want me here—me, of all people.

Maybe he’s got other women trapped around here.

I don’t believe his promise of protection for one second. Maybe he doesn’t plan on sharing his things, but I’ve been a fool once, and it’s not happening again. Being Tommy’s fiancée afforded me certain protections too—from everyone but him.

Tommy was exceptional at keeping other men away because he instilled the fear of God into me that it would somehow be my fault if someone’s gaze lingered too long. The one time someone played with his toy, I heard the echo of a gunshot, followed by total silence.

My mind races as I squint against the darkness. There’s no telling where the tunnel leads. I could get lost in there or come across something other.

I rub the muscles in my sore arm and glance back at the hole above the pool. There has to be another exit besides that.

Getting to it is a feat I’m not sure even a seasoned rock climber can achieve. The rock wall is curved with hardly any prominent grooves that I can make out. Jagged stones await at the bottom of the hole, promising injury if there’s one slip—and there will be a slipup with the state of my arm and shitty vestibular system.

Then, there’s the way we came in.

I’m a decent swimmer, but there’s no way I’ll be able to get out through the underwater channel without drowning.

I’m out of options. The tunnel is my only choice. It leads either to an unknown place or something far worse than the devil I know.

I swipe the tears from my face and grit my teeth against the agony throughout my body as I put one tentative foot in front of the other, using the damp cave walls as a guide. Minutes tick by, or maybe they’re a matter of seconds, possibly hours.

I can’t tell.

“Shit,” I hiss, losing my footing and crashing my knee into something hard and jagged. Pain slices up my leg. I rear back and almost lose my balance.

My hands fly out in front of me to land on a solid surface. Harsh breaths echo through the tunnel. Every sound I make is like an alarm that will alert the monster to my attempted escape. I squeeze my eyes shut. Rotting away isn’t how I wanted to go.

Pull yourself fucking together, I scold myself, drawing whatever is left of my sanity to gain some semblance of control over my emotions.

I quickly feel the walls around me to gain a sense of direction.

No.

It can’t be.

My heart hammers in my chest as I keep turning in my spot, hands out to orient myself. It’s the perfect 360 spin.

It’s a dead end.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Tears of frustration burn down my cheeks. Hopelessness, raw and guttural, pounds down on me.

Why is this happening to me? Why me? What could I have possibly done in my past life to deserve all this?

My knees buckle, and I narrowly stop myself from falling. I’m so tired, exhausted from constantly running, fearing for my life. There’s never going to be an expiration date to this feeling—it makes me question the point of fighting.

Dad said he’ll always be happy as long as I’m doing what makes me happy. He’s not even here, and I can feel his disappointment. Happiness isn’t on the table for me. The only thing I can offer him is my survival, however fleeting that might be.

I have to go back to the cavern. Climbing out of the hole is my only option.

I swallow, attempting to bring moisture to my dry mouth. When was the last time I drank something? Ate? The lack of food and water wouldn’t be helping my condition either.

My head swims as I trudge forward, the vestiges of my adrenaline chipping away until I’m struggling to stay upright. Today has consisted of trauma after trauma. Exhaustion has me by my throat.

I’m panting by the time I stumble into the cave, coated in a layer of cold sweat, grime, and blue liquid I can only assume is the evidence of my attempted attack on the kraken. I pause, narrowing my eyes against the sudden light and waning energy. At the edges of my blurry vision, I spot something circular and brown.

My brows furrow as I close the distance, half crawling, half walking. A coconut. It sits atop a pile of shells, all husks of different maturity that have been broken, or…gnawed on?

My stomach grumbles. I snatch the fruit at the top, and my heart sinks. It’s empty. Dammit.

Movement sounds behind me. I whip around, holding the object up in defense. That’s not the krak-

My eyes widen. I clamor back from the thing that just stepped out of the pool. What the ever-loving fuck is that? I saw it briefly back at my cabin, but up close…

The shark-dog tips its head to the side, watching me with keen curiosity. Beneath the low light, I can make out more than his silhouette this time. It’s shaped like a dog, but with fins and a wider, rounder, more stretched out snout like a shark—although with a black nose at the very end like a canine.

It has the same coloring as one of the common octopus breeds in the area: cherry brown, with yellow along his snout, around his eyes, and like socks on his feet.

I find myself leaning closer, noticing the white dots on his stomach and below the fins on the backs of his legs. Are those…suckers?

A shiver rolls down my spine when I catch sight of its razor-sharp teeth. Between its maw is a greenish thing shaped like a ball.

My muscles lock when it steps forward. What are the chances I can outrun that thing?

Nil. Absolutely zero.

Looking it in the eye is a bad idea, but I can’t stop staring, brows stitching together. The creature is really quite fascinating. What did the kraken call him? Chad?

It isn’t quite staring back at me. I follow its line of sight to the coconut in my hand, and I glance at the teeth marks on the pile of husks beside me.

Oh shit. I’m playing with its toys.

My hand trembles, raising the coconut as an offering—no, bad idea. Don’t invite it closer.

Throat bobbing, I slowly—so very slowly—lower it to the ground and roll the fruit its way, inching from the creature’s pile.

The green ball—another coconut—thuds onto the floor from his mouth. He looks up at me, and I hold my breath. Then, his piercing stare drops to the coconut I rolled his way. Up at me. Back to the fruit. Me. Coconut. Me. Back to the coconut. Me again.

It steps toward me, and I suppress every one of my instincts to jump back with a scream. It presses its snout to the coconut, making the cute aggressive sniffing sound like dogs do. Then, in a move that has me questioning everything I know about biology and animal behavior, its shark tail starts swishing side to side.

The good kind of tail-wagging.