Not a shadow. Not some drifting form in the haze. It was a shark. And not just any shark. The great crescent jawline, the scars along its flank, the sheer immensity of it left no room for doubt. Marcus’s stomach dropped as recognition struck like a thunderclap. A great white. Marcus hovered, caught between instinct and reason.
Every fiber of his body urged him to turn, to kick hard for the surface, to get back onto the safety of the boat. That was the rational choice. The only choice, really, when facing an apex predator at arm’s reach. But something didn’t sit right. He’d studied sharks for years, written papers on their migratory routes, lectured on their hunting behaviors.