Page 27 of Music of the Ocean

He shoved away from the window, swimming a loose, frantic spiral around the chamber, water slicing cool and frictionless over his skin. The city’s currents caught him, but he fought them, then clawed his way back to Indigo’s side and planted himself face to face.

You don’t get it, do you? You think this is romantic? Some cosmic bond, and now suddenly, we’re in love or soulmates or whatever bullshit you’re selling? You took my life. You took everything. I had a ship, a career, a whole human body. And you replaced it all with this. Gills and webbing and whatever the hell you did to my insides. Did you think I wanted that? Did you even consider I might not?

Indigo didn’t back off, didn’t flinch from the anger. If anything, his gaze narrowed, as if drinking in every spike of Saxby’s rage. Saxby wanted to punch him. Or kiss him. Or bite a chunk out of his perfect, inhuman face, just to prove something, except he didn’t know what.

He lashed the words into Indigo’s mind, not trying to filter the bitterness. I wanted the rank of captain. I earned everything I had—every rank, every post, every miserable mission. You think I wanted to end up as an experiment at the bottom of some alien ocean? You think I want to be your mate?

There was a cold, tight satisfaction in watching Indigo absorb the fury. The tentacles stilled, curled close to Indigo’s body. The light in the room seemed to dim a fraction, as if reacting to the violence of Saxby’s thoughts.

Okay, that was kind of scary, but also? The response pleased Saxby. Let Indigo feel what he felt. Let him see what he’d done.

Saxby pulled back, drifted to the far wall of the chamber, then pressed his palm to the living coral. It flexed under his hand, as if offering comfort, but he yanked it away. He didn’t want comfort. He wanted out.

A sharp spike of energy shot through the link. Indigo’s thoughts pressed back, not gentle this time, but edged with something like desperation.

I know you feel lost. Yes, the change is brutal. But this is the way of the world here. I cannot change what the ocean demands.

Bullshit. Saxby hurled the word like a slap. Vance would have figured it out. Medical’s got every antiviral in the quadrant. I wasn’t going to die.

Indigo’s face didn’t change, but the tentacles curled tighter, the light in his skin flickering. You are wrong. The change was already happening inside you. It would have killed you if you had not returned to the planet, which is why I said I would have retrieved you if it had been necessary.

Saxby pressed both hands to his face, gills flaring, nails digging into the new seams behind his jaw. He tried to remember what it was like to breathe air, to feel his lungs burn with something other than this icy clarity.

It was already fading, the memory. How much longer before he forgot what it was to be human? How much longer before he stopped caring?

Then, I would’ve died. At least, that would’ve been my choice.

Indigo’s color flared. Unacceptable.

Saxby sagged, letting the current push him back into Indigo’s orbit. You could’ve asked. I would’ve said no, but you could’ve at least tried.

Indigo’s hand closed gently around Saxby’s forearm. You frame everything within your human experience, and I am not human. I will not act human, so expecting me to act as such is pointless. By saying you would have said no only proves my point.

Saxby glared at Indigo. And you think we’re going to have a relationship when you say shit like that?

You will adapt.

All that did was infuriate Saxby even more. He flipped Indigo off. Adapt that.

I am perfectly aware of what that gesture means. There are other humans who reside here, after all. Indigo pursed his lips. You are more than likely hungry. I will retrieve food for us. Maybe that will take the edge off your anger. Please stay here. I will return shortly.

Gods above, did Indigo just call him hangry? Saxby loved old Earth sayings, and that one was his favorite. So much meaning in that one little word. But as angry as Saxby was with Indigo, the thought of staying there alone bothered him.

Or… Or I could request for someone to bring us food. Maybe that would be better. And I am sure you would prefer another type of clothing. Something more suitable. Would that be acceptable?

The temptation to say that none of this was acceptable was at the tip of Saxby’s tongue, but he resisted. Such comments might make him feel better, but it wouldn’t get him anywhere. It certainly wouldn’t fix the situation.

Plus, he wasn’t stupid. Since he didn’t know how to shield, there was a good chance Indigo had picked up that Saxby was uncomfortable being alone.

Saxby rubbed his temple, a small throbbing starting. Indigo had noticed Saxby’s feelings and had taken them into consideration. It was a very small consideration, but one, nonetheless.

But Saxby didn’t want that. He didn’t want Indigo to be nice or thoughtful. To be kind or gentle. That made it harder to stay mad. And he was mad. Furious. He was!

Saxby ruthlessly suppressed a laugh. Who was he trying to convince? Gods, he was losing it. Sure. Food and a change of clothing would be good. Thanks.

Oh, look at him being nice back. It was fine. It was all fine. Everything was fine.

Movement caught his eye a few minutes later. There was a ripple at the chamber’s mouth, a shadow gliding along the coral. Indigo’s tentacles shifted, alert, but not defensive.