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I follow his labored exhalations and the weight of his attack. I tap into the past, from whenever he practiced against me while training with the water Fae.

His trident skims my back, its teeth peeling through my flesh. I grunt as liquid runs down my spine.

Both of us have a short fuse. The difference is, I fight with cutthroat precision, whereas he fights with nothing but undiluted anger. That is his error.

The more I thwart his attempts, the more Scorpio growls, the clumsier he combats. I strike back when frustration gets the best of him. With a howl, the merman spirals the trident and cannons toward me, angling the weapon for my heart.

In a move I have learned from the vipers in my den, I brace. Then I strike. Pivoting, I wheel under the trident and spiral behind it. One dagger catches the stem and uses the momentum to ram the trident into the earth.

My free arm shoots outward, the second dagger skewering Scorpio’s lungs. He dangles at the end of my weapon, then hits the grass on his knees. A shocked gargle bubbles from his mouth.

I yank the prongs from his chest as he falls. A bereft sound sneaks from between his lips and penetrates me. Until Cove, I have never paid attention to such utterances.

This time, I slump on one knee before the merman and lean over him. He spasms, and something akin to grief bolts me in place.

If I had remembered my mothers’ friendship with his grandfather, the elder Fae’s attempt to save me, and what Scorpio and I both lost…

If I had listened to Cove during her game and been kinder, more compassionate to him…

If I had reacted differently…

He might have still tried to hurt her. He might have remained spiteful of her.

Or perhaps not. I will never know.

Scorpio’s fingers trail across my own. I grab his hand and bunch it into a fist with mine, but I shall not speak. If I do, I cannot say whether Cove’s compassion or my venom will come out.

For what he has lost, he has also taken. He might have done more and worse, yet I am sorry for him, and I am sorry it has ended this way.

I had no choice.

But you did.

Yes. And I have made it.

Scorpio hacks through the blood rushing from his mouth. He crushes our grips together, as if aware of my thoughts. “Save them.”

Our kin. Our fauna. Our natural world.

When I nod, relief slides across his features, the scales glinting. Then the merman’s digits loosen and go slack in my hand.

My eyes shut. I bow my head and then wrap the trident in his grasp, setting both atop his chest.

The battle’s audible clamor resumes, sprawling across the fields.

A long sliding motion across the grass stalls me. My eyebrows stitch together, and I leap aside as another Solitary lashes my way. As I thrust myself from the figure, I veer behind them and skate my fingercaps along the scales and webbed hands.

It is a water Fae.

The male circles. I twist, evading his circuit.

His tongue vibrates. I wretch the other way, avoiding the lurch of his spiked net.

I drive my forked dagger into the Fae’s weapon. The prongs pin the barbed mesh to the ground, driving my opponent to the grass. He squats, unleashes a sharp noise, and leaps forward like an amphibian—only to meet a pair of fangs.

In a short burst of motion, Lotus lunges upright in front of me and bores his teeth into the water Fae’s throat. The snake is small and thin. But with the Evermore Blossom, he is as fast as a viper.

My attacker howls and tries to bat the snake off, but Lotus holds fast and drills his fangs deeper. So deeply, I hear them rupture an artery. Blood spurts from the Fae’s neck and sprays my skin.