Chapter 3 #2
Her bioluminescence dimmed, pulling inward like a creature trying to make itself invisible. It didn’t work. Merrick’s flint-colored eyes tracked the light anyway, following the patterns on her skin with the same expression a collector might wear while examining a rare specimen.
Because that’s what I am to him. A specimen. A prize.
“Mr. Bane.” She made herself walk into the room, made herself stand with her spine straight and her chin lifted. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Clearly.” His gaze swept over her still-damp hair, the loose unflattering robe, and the bare feet leaving wet prints on the floor. “I understand you had an eventful day.”
Her eyes cut to her father, who was hovering near his workstation with the anxious energy of a small animal in the presence of a predator.
“She was caught in the storm,” Anton said quickly. “Off-course. An accident. The data I’m collecting shows that her lung capacity has actually improved under stress conditions, which suggests—”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s fascinating.” Merrick didn’t look at him. His eyes remained fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. “But what’s this about a rescue? In Vultor territory?”
How does he already know? A quick glance at her father’s averted face answered that question.
Merrick took a step towards her, and she forced herself not to retreat. “The Vultor clans are… volatile. Unpredictable. If they believed that one of my assets had trespassed on their land—”
“I’m not your asset,” she snapped. Her father made a small distressed sound, but she refused to back down.
“Oh, but you are,” he said pleasantly as he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.
The touch sent a wave of revulsion through her body so strong she nearly gagged. His fingers were exactly as cold as she remembered, corpse-cold, and they pressed into her skin with a possessiveness that made her stomach turn. Her bioluminescence dimmed to a pale silver before she could stop it.
Merrick noticed. Of course he noticed.
“Fascinating,” he murmured. “I’ve always wondered what triggers those color changes. Emotion, you’ve said?” This last was directed at her father, who nodded eagerly.
“Yes, yes. They respond to her neurochemical state.”
“Indeed.” Merrick’s thumb traced a small circle on her shoulder, and she felt her skin try to crawl away from the contact. “I’ve made quite a study of your work, Doctor. And of your remarkable daughter.”
His eyes met hers, and she saw it there—the hunger.
Not sexual, not entirely, but something colder and more calculated.
He looked at her the way a man might look at a painting he intended to hang in his private gallery or a ship he planned to add to his fleet.
Or a piece of living technology he intended to own.
“Your father’s debts are considerable,” Merrick continued, still holding her gaze. “The funding for your modifications, the research, the equipment, the lab space—it all adds up, I’m afraid. And the returns have been… disappointing.”
“I’ve brought you everything I’ve found,” she said. “Every mineral, every sample, every artifact from the trenches—”
“Yes. And yet the balance remains.” His hand tightened on her shoulder, just slightly. “I’m a patient man, but I think it’s time to proceed with the other alternative for repayment.”
Her father stepped forward, wringing his hands. “Mr. Bane, if we could discuss the timeline—”
“The wedding will settle all accounts.”
The words dropped into the room like stones into still water, and her heart stopped.
Wedding.
She’d known, of course. She’d known since she was eighteen that this was coming, ever since her father had sat her down with that terrified, helpless expression and explained that Merrick wanted more than artifacts and data.
That the price of their continued existence—of her father’s freedom, of her own survival—was her.
But hearing it said out loud, so casually, like it was already decided…
“The arrangements are nearly complete,” Merrick continued, finally removing his hand from her shoulder.
“A small, tasteful ceremony in Port Cantor. I’ve already selected the venue—the Oceanview Terrace.
It has a lovely view of the water.” His lips curved again.
“You’ll be able to see the sea from our wedding chamber. ”
Our wedding chamber.
The words made her want to scream. To run. To dive back into the ocean and swim until she found somewhere he couldn’t follow.
But there was nowhere he couldn’t follow. That was the point. That was the trap.
“I should let you rest,” Merrick said, adjusting his cuffs with precise, deliberate movements.
“The storm has clearly been taxing. But I wanted to stop by, to check on my investment.” His eyes found hers one last time, as cold and grey as the flint they resembled.
“And to remind you both what’s at stake. ”
He moved towards the door, his expensive shoes clicking against the metal floor. At the threshold, he paused.
“Doctor. I expect a full report on tonight’s data by tomorrow morning. And Ariella—” He looked back over his shoulder. “Do try to stay out of Vultor territory. I’d hate for anything to damage you before the wedding.”
The door sealed behind him with a soft hiss.
She stood frozen in the center of the lab, her bioluminescence pulsing in a rhythm that matched her racing heart. Her father was saying something—apologizing, explaining, justifying—but the words washed over her like waves against rock.
The wedding will settle all accounts.
She turned and walked back towards her quarters, ignoring her father’s continuing stream of nervous explanations. Her room was exactly as she’d left it, small and sterile, a cage with better air filtration.
“I’m sorry, Ariella.”
Her father stood in the doorway, his face pale and etched with a regret that seemed, for the first time, genuinely felt.
“I never wanted this,” he said quietly. “You have to believe me. When you were so sick… I would have done anything. The modifications were supposed to save you, not create this situation.”
“And they did save me,” she heard herself say. Her own voice sounded distant, flat. “But what were you saving me for?”