It gave him time to deliberate on the state of things, settling back against a slopping rock wall and pressing his fingers more tightly still to the wound at his side. This was happening. This was all really happening, and the ship was leaving him behind, and he was trapped on a rock in the middle of the ocean with a merman.

Likely to die here.

His eyes closed, teeth sinking into his lower lip, as he tried to steel his nerves. No. He wasn't rolling over and dying that easily. They'd have to fight for every scrap of him they got. He hadn't made it this far just to accept his fate, or any such nonsense.

What part his new friend had to play in this, he couldn't begin to guess...