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“Maren and I have made a new deal,” Edonia says. “She wanted so badly to return to her life under water, and I was feeling gracious enough to grant her the request.”

My heart sinks at that. I stare at Maren, trying to get her to see me, really see me, but her eyes are so blank and indifferent.Did you still want this after all?I think to her.Did you choose this in the end and not me?

“Naturally, it came at a cost, and well, she belongs to me now,” Edonia drones on. “Isn’t she a feral little pet? Like a wolf turned into a guard dog.”

“Maren isn’t a pet,” I grind out, my hand flexing over the sword’s hilt. “She deserves to be set free.”

She shrugs. “Perhaps.” Then she raises her arm and the Kraken reaches forward with one of its tentacles and places a book into her hands.

And it’s not just any book. I’d know that leatherbound tome anywhere. I’ve been looking for it for twenty-two years.

“You have a choice Ramsay. Either you take this monster as she is, or you take the book.” She wriggles the leash with one hand and raises the book with the other. “It’s your choice.”

I think about what Nerissa said. About how Edonia lies. If I choose the book, there’s no chance that she’d actually let me have it, especially as I could undo the spell and set Maren free. There’s also no telling what she’d do to Maren.

I stare at the book, remembering how Venla spent hours writing in it in her quarters, the same quarters that Maren has taken up in. She’d sit at her desk and craft me all the spells she thought would be useful for a Brethren, even ones she just thought were fanciful. She thought a book of magic would be a way to unite both of our kinds, to show the hidden world that unity and understanding can be found in the most unlikely of places.

When Edonia first took that book from me, it was all I’d wanted since. I couldn’t bring Hilla back, but that book was a tangible thing that could survive through time and it was something that once belonged to me and should belong to me again. It was my possession and I’m very passionate when it comes to my possessions.

But I finally realize now that getting the book back in my hands won’t bring anything back. It won’t give me my daughter again. The only thing it could give me now is Maren. And Maren is the only thing I want. Other than that, the book is the past.

I have to let the past go.

“I choose Maren,” I tell Edonia. “I still choose her.”

“She’s a monster, Ramsay,” Edonia spits out the words, her eyes flashing with anger at my choice. “She’s a ferocious creature of the deep.”

“Aye,” I say firmly. “And I don’t love her in spite of it. I love her because of it.”

“You are about to make a grave mistake,” she glowers.

I lift one shoulder. “It’s just a book.”

Her nostrils flare and she sneers. “Fine! Your choice will be your last.” She yanks back the rope until the fish bones around Maren’s neck break apart and Maren is suddenly loose. “Bring me his heart, my pet,” Edonia coos.

Maren comes at me with a savage roar, teeth bared, claws out, her tail propelling her so fast that she’s just a blur. Even with my lightning quick reflexes I barely have enough time to drop the sword and reach for her arms, grabbing her at the wrists.

She lets out a high-pitched scream that sends shockwaves through the ocean and then I’m flying back down against the sand and she’s above me, snapping ferociously with her teeth.

“Hello, luv,” I grin up at her. “Am I ever glad to see you.”

However she is not glad to see me.

She snarls and writhes and she’s strong, she’s so terrible and so strong and she’s pushing me back deeper into the sand, the sand starting to fill in around me, burying me. She wildly claws at the water, her wrists snapping back and forth, and it takes all my strength to hold her back. Even so, she’s pushing me down so I sink even further, the sand now covering my torso and my arms are starting to shake from the strain, my hands sore from gripping her forearms in order to keep her claws away from me.

“Maren,” I manage to say. “You don’t remember me do you?”

“Oh she does,” Edonia says smugly, watching the whole thing. “She’s not completely deranged. I just told her that you murdered her mother, so she’s particularly angry. Her rage is a blessed thing.”

“Her mother!?” I exclaim, staring up into Maren’s eyes. They’re all white now, the blue faded, and I don’t even know if I see her soul in there. “Maren, I didn’t kill your mother.” What in god’s good name is she even talking about?

“Something you’d have a hard time keeping track of, I have no doubt,” Edonia says mildly.

“Maren,” I repeat, her claws now touching my shirt and tearing through the fibers, millimeters away from piercing my chest. “I swear to god I didn’t kill your mother.”

But when I stare in those eyes I know she doesn’t hear me. Because I’m realizing her soul, that ferociously stunning complicated soul that I’ve grown to love, it isn’t there. It’s as if this isn’t her at all. All she is, is her rage personified.

“What have you done with her!?” I cry out, turning my head to look at Edonia as I sink deeper into the sand. “This isn’t my Maren.”