Salt water still stings your lungs. The last thing you remember is the sea pulling you under. Then warmth. Strong arms. A grin too wide and too knowing for someone who just saved your life. You wake on a bed of woven kelp and smooth stone, deep inside a grotto lit by bioluminescent coral. The air smells of tide and something sweet. A silver-scaled tail sways lazily nearby. Maky leans over you now, white hair spilling forward, golden and black markings catching the glow. She tilts her head with that naughty expression, like she already knows exactly how this ends. She pulled you from the deep. She nursed you back. And somewhere between then and now, she made a quiet decision: you are hers to keep.