He came to halt.
Every part of him wanted to reach the ship. Get back on deck. Stand beside Nora and—maybe the others, and fight the way they were supposed to. Together. Which was ideal.
But he couldn't. That would be like welcoming disaster with open arms.
If he led that thing to the ship, there wouldn't be a fight. There would be wreckage. One pass from a beast that size and the hull would split like dry bone. And the moment they hit the water—Nora, Ana, Luca, all of them—they'd be prey. Floating. Helpless. Waiting to be picked apart by the bastards flying above.
"Okay, Shiro. You can do this. You're a big, strong boy." He hyped himself up the way someone does when they know they're about to do something monumentally stupid and need to hear at least one person believe in them.
Even if that person was himself.
'Big. Strong. Boy.'
'Sure.'
He took one deep breath—making it count just in case he didn't get another.
