She punched her right hand low into the nøkk’s abdomen—and dug inside the nearly invisible front fold. It happened so fast Hunt wasn’t sure what she’d done. Until she twisted her wrist, and the nøkk arched in pain.

Bubbles leaked from Bryce’s mouth as she wrenched its balls harder—

Every male in the pit flinched.

The nøkk let go, falling to the bottom. It was the opening Bryce needed. She drifted back against the cracked glass, braced her legs, and pushed.

It launched her into the open water. Blood from her head wound streamed in her wake, even as the synth healed the gash and prevented the blow from rendering her unconscious.

The platform dropped into the water again. Lehabah had sent it down. A final lifeline. Bryce dolphin-kicked for it, her arms pointed in front of her. Blood swirled with each undulating kick.

At the rocky bottom of the tank, the nøkk had recovered—and now bared its teeth up at the fleeing woman. Molten rage gleamed in its milky eyes.

“Swim, Bryce,” Tharion growled. “Don’t look back.”

The platform hit its lowest level. Bryce swam, her teeth gritted. The instinct to take a breath had to be horrendous.

Come on, Hunt prayed. Come on.

Bryce’s fingers wrapped around the bottom of the platform. Then the rim. The nøkk charged up from the depths, fury and death blazing in its monstrous face.

“Don’t stop, Bryce,” Fury Axtar warned the screen.

Bryce didn’t. Hand by hand by hand, she climbed the ascending chain, fighting for each foot gained toward the surface.

Ten feet from the top. The nøkk reached the platform base.

Five. The nøkk shot up the chain, closing in on her heels.

Bryce broke the surface with a sharp gasp, her arms grappling, hauling, hauling—

She got her chest out. Her stomach. Her legs.

The nøkk’s hands broke from the water, reaching.

But Bryce had cleared its range. And now panted, dripping water into the churning surface beneath the grated floor. Head healed without a trace.

The nøkk, unable to stand the touch of the air, dropped beneath the surface just as the feeding platform halted, sealing access to the water beneath.

“Fucking Hel,” Fury whispered, running her shaking hands over her face. “Fucking Hel.”

Bryce rushed to the unresponsive Syrinx and demanded from Lehabah, “Anything?”

“No, it’s—”

Bryce began chest compressions, two fingers on the center of the chimera’s sodden chest. She closed his jaws and blew into his nostrils. Did it again. Again. Again.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t beg any of the gods as she tried to resuscitate him.

On a feed across the room, the bathroom door fizzled beneath Micah’s assaults. She had to get out. Had to run now, or she’d be ruptured into shards of bone—

Bryce stayed. Kept fighting for the chimera’s life.