Chapter 3
The beautiful omega is mine. The shock of it surpasses anything I’ve experienced. Her blood coats my mouth as my cum drenches her thighs. And I feel her. Her soul alights inside of mine. So perfect. My omega.
I’m not just surprised. I’m stunned senseless.
What was that? It’s clear she was in heat—a spike perhaps, since it seems to have passed—but that wasn't normal. I’ve been with omegas in heat before. I’ve always been able to control myself, never had the urge to claim them. But not with her.
Instinct took over in a way it never has before. It was pure and animalistic and indisputable. She’s mine. I knew it from that first scent. That first taste. I could never let her go.
I don’t regret what we just did. Not one bit. I want more.
Brushing my lips over her skin, I lick my bond, tending to it, reveling in her sweet scent.
There’s still a thin, offensive material between her and me, and I need it gone. Need my knot buried deep inside her.
But as the pleasure of her orgasm fades, a nervous panic flares through the bond. No, no. I don’t want her to second guess this. I can’t lose her, not when I’ve only just found her and felt the beautiful richness of her heart.
I take her face in my hands and stare into her eyes.
They’re the light color of seaglass, entirely captivating.
Her hair reminds me of a dancing starfish, swaying in the tide, curling around her face.
It looks soft, and I have the urge to wrap it around my fingers.
I want to wrap my hands around every inch of her hour-glass figure.
She’s so soft everywhere, sensuality wrapped in a petite package.
She speaks in that strange language I don’t understand, and something in her gaze softens in response to my fear.
She covers my hands with hers and kisses me softly on the lips.
Not like our first kiss. This one is full of reassurance, but also a healthy dose of uncertainty.
Her feelings through the bond are a tangled mess, similar to my own, but at the forefront is a profound sense of… peace.
Reassured, I take a slow breath and send her all my deep delight. I don’t understand this pull I have toward her. I’ve never heard of anything like it. But it’s right.
Despite the tentative joy I sense, she retreats, hands flat on my chest, lips beautifully red, chest heaving as she speaks again in that strange tongue. I’ve always been good with languages—I taught myself dolphin in a week—but this has none of the clicking or humming noises I’m used to.
I don’t bother answering, since she won’t understand me. Instead I go in for another kiss. For now, the only language we need is that of the body. And the bond.
She turns her head away so my lips hit her cheek, and the rejection stings worse than the clear liquid she poured on my leg, worse than a brush with a Valdovian jellyfish. But I can be patient. She’s mine now. A reassuring thought.
A month ago, when I first discovered humans truly existed, my mother denied it, assuring me they were creatures gone extinct.
Dangerous, incompatible with us, corrupted, broken by the sun and the air, that couldn’t have survived the ages.
I suspected it was a lie. That’s why I’ve been searching for the ancient city of Ocearus.
My grandfather used to tell me stories of humans as a youngling.
Of beasts with no fins that roamed above the waters.
About a city where humans and merfolk lived and thrived together.
It always seemed like the ramblings of an elder, stories for the imaginations of youths.
But after discovering proof of their existence…
He once told me the lost library of Ocearus was the only place that still held records of the great tragedy that led to merfolk forsaking humanity. The supposed entrance was forgotten long ago, but I’m determined to find it.
When my mother told me I would be married by the next Saphrai Solstice, I knew if I ever wanted to solve the mystery of humans, now was the time.
I poured over every map and swam for two weeks straight to get here.
Unable to wait for the tide to come back in, I’d climbed over the rocks, searching for some sign of the city, but as my tail dried, it changed.
I became one of them. And now… now, I’ve found my mate.
Fate brought her to me at just the right time, and blessed her with a heat spike so we could bond immediately. The greatest gift.
As she takes my hand and leads me out of the cave, I wonder what her life is like and how I will fit into it. My mother will be furious. I was supposed to bond with Farasea of the house of Sirena. I smile thinking of how impossible that is now.
My mate has to let go of my hand as we climb over the rocks and splash through the water at the entrance to the cave, but takes it again once we reach the sand.
Climbing was easier than this new movement on sand.
The two appendages that replaced my tail are wobbly and weak.
I stumble, and she wraps my arm around her shoulder, offering her support.
A few steps from the cave, there’s a small pile of unfamiliar items. A satchel made of some kind of smooth material.
And a large, rectangular textile of some sort, but the texture is unlike anything I’ve seen before.
She looks at me, then down at her wet body, before briefly rubbing the fabric along her arms and legs.
Once most of the water is off her, she hands it to me.
When I reach for it, she surprises me by suddenly grabbing my wrist and turning my hand. She studies my markings appreciatively as she makes those strange guttural sounds. Does she like them? Does she recognize the symbols? Is she impressed by my royal status?
I wish I could ask, but speaking is pointless when she won’t understand me.
Using the hold she has on me, I twist my arm until I’m the one holding her wrist. Bringing it to my lips, I press a soft kiss in the middle of her palm.
She shivers when my lips touch her skin, but pulls away too soon.
I want to take her hand again and give her my sigil, mark her as mine, so all will know the power she has.
My royal mate. But she seems suddenly shy and skittish after our abrupt bonding.
I don’t want to overwhelm her. There will be time for talking about my position and what it means for her once we can communicate.
I had planned to return to the sea after I learned what I could about Ocearus, but now everything is different.
My mate does not look like she can swim very fast, with her split tail.
I wonder if she can even breathe under the water?
According to my grandfather’s tales, humans and merfolk once lived together, but my mate does not look like she has gills.
If she cannot survive my world, I will have to survive in hers.
Perhaps the record in Ocearus will hold the answers. If I can find them.
Either way, my mother will have to settle for a different kind of political bonding. One that will perhaps restore a connection between humans and merfolk.
My omega throws the textile she used to dry herself at me, saying something else in her strange tongue.
Unsure what she wants me to do with it, I copy her motions of rubbing it over my body, then hold it back out to her. She doesn’t take it. Her cheeks are a beautiful pink as she speaks. It’s clear she’s rambling, even though I don’t understand a word.
After a time, she takes the material, steps closer, wraps it around my waist, and tucks it in so that it covers my bottom half. It makes me think of the way some of my people decorate themselves with shells, scales, and even materials made from certain kelps and seaweeds.
I’ve always preferred simplicity myself, but if my mate wants to adorn me in her finery, I’ll happily comply. Especially if it means making a good impression on her. But I would much prefer to stay bare before her and to have her unveiled before me. Soon.
I hope.