There’s a pool of it under his head, staining the sands. My heart stops in my chest at the sight, and I carefully search my fingers through his hair. There’s a massive cut on the back of his skull, shallow but long, and I remember the violent thump against the raft that nearly tipped me over. One of the tentacle creatures must have pulled him into the water and when he was swimming up, he rammed into the raft and knocked himself out. I lean down and kiss his cold cheek, then smooth wet tendrils off his face. “It’s okay, love. Daisy’s here. I’ll take care of you.”
