They stood shoulder to shoulder at the railing as the creature drew closer. It didn’t pause. Didn’t drift. It came as if it knew them, as if the trawler were a lighthouse it had been seeking. Then the bear reached the hull and reared up, water pouring off its matted fur.
A single paw slapped the steel. It stared up at them—not with menace, not with hunger, but something else entirely. Elias felt his throat go dry. “What the hell do you want?” Henrik whispered. But the bear didn’t answer. It just waited.