Healing My Seven Broken Beast Mates

The morning sun pierced through the Aether array, casting a warm glow across the cave floor. Jayla's internal clock woke her precisely at dawn.

She sat up and looked toward the crevice. Jordi was still asleep, his body curled into a tight ball. His hands were clutching the edges of the wool blanket, his knuckles white, as if afraid someone would snatch it away.

Jayla didn't wake him. She silently dispelled the array, grabbed a change of clothes from her dimension, and slipped out of the cave.

She followed the faint scent of moisture in the air, navigating through the dense, primordial forest. After a short walk, the sound of rushing water reached her ears.

She pushed through a thicket of ferns and found it—a magnificent natural waterfall cascading into a deep, crystal-clear pool.

Jayla whistled in appreciation. She quickly stripped off the filthy, blood-stained animal skins, letting them drop to the mossy ground.

She walked barefoot into the cool water, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as the chill washed away the grime and sweat. She dove under the surface, scrubbing her skin clean.

When she surfaced, she looked down at her body. And froze.

On her flat, pale abdomen, seven distinct tattoos were etched into the skin. They were dark, dull, and lifeless. She recognized the shapes from the memories—a broken fish scale, a snapped feather, a jagged wolf fang, and others she didn't recognize yet.

"What the... are these the mating marks?" Jayla muttered. She rubbed a finger over the broken scale mark, scrubbing hard. It didn't smudge or fade. It was permanent.

The memories supplied the answer. They were Covenant marks, the physical manifestation of the bond between a female and her mates. And their dull, dark color meant the mates were weak, their life force fading.

"Great," Jayla thought, rolling her eyes. "Seven ticking bombs strapped to my stomach."

She took a deep breath and submerged herself again, deciding to enjoy the peace while it lasted. The underwater world was clear and serene. She swam gracefully, her body cutting through the water like a knife.

Suddenly, a shadow caught her eye. A dark shape was thrashing violently in a bed of water weeds a few yards away.

Her operative instincts kicked in. She swam closer, ready for a fight. But it wasn't a beast.

It was Jordi.

He was barely buoyant, his movements erratic and strained. He was using both hands to strangle a large, silver fish, his body shaking from the effort of simply staying afloat. Without his tail fin to provide balance, he was clumsy and awkward in the water, a far cry from the graceful Merfolk he was born to be.

The fish fought back, its tail whipping around and smacking Jordi square in the face. The impact sent him tumbling backward in the water, his arms flailing.

He choked on a mouthful of water, but his hands refused to let go of his meal. It was his first food in days, and the agonizing journey from the cave to this pool had left him starving.

Jayla watched the scene, a mix of pity and exasperation welling up inside her. The Merfolk prince, reduced to being bullied by a fish.

She swam over, reaching out to help him subdue the struggling creature.

The displacement of water alerted Jordi. He whipped his head around. Through the rippling water, he saw Jayla's face.

Pure terror contorted his features. He opened his mouth to scream, releasing a burst of bubbles. The fish, taking advantage of the distraction, slipped from his grip and darted away.

Jordi panicked. He thrashed his arms, trying to swim away from her, but his lack of coordination sent him spinning right into her.

His bare chest slammed against hers. Jayla gasped at the contact—his skin was ice cold, colder than the water around them.

Jordi reacted as if he had touched a live coal. In a blind panic, he lashed out with the remaining length of his tail, the blunt force of his fluke connecting hard with Jayla's calf.

The pain made Jayla loosen her grip. Jordi used the opening to scramble away, swimming frantically toward the surface.

Jayla rubbed her sore calf, watching his chaotic retreat. She shook her head, a wry smile on her lips.

She pushed off the bottom of the pool, shooting upward like an arrow, breaking the surface of the water right behind him.