Chapter 5
It happened in an instant.
That precarious moment right before she tumbled off the edge of carnal pleasure.
In one breath, she’d been poised to fall.
On the next, torn away from that abyss with a brutal splash of frigid reality.
Kore’s body was seized in a fist of liquid denial as she was torn off Nyxarion’s cock. Left empty and denied, her muscles fluttered around a void. Clenched at nothing but the ache of denial, yet again.
Gasping, throat raw and mute, she clawed at the water as it swirled around her in a violent twist. A wretched sob clawed its way free of her throat, for the hollow ache burned.
Promised and withheld.
Her nerves screaming for something stolen mid-breath.
And even as the water spun in a violent cyclone around her, Kore’s thighs clenched as if trying to pull him back in.
His name broke apart on her lips when she tried to cry for him to return. To ease the pain and give her what she needed so desperately.
But the ocean rejected her plea.
Trashing, Nyxarion roared. His preposterous length twisting as he was forced into the depths of his trench, a column of angry water wrenching them apart. Muscles straining, his scales caught what little light there was as he raged against a magic she hadn’t known to fear.
Bewildered—hair whipping around her, gills flaring wide in rudderless panic—Kore looked up.
To the creature who’d appeared from nothing to command the waves.
Her breath caught in a soggy gasp.
Pale skin etched in scales so white they shone with a silver-blue, iridescent gleam. He was smaller than Nyxarion. Lean and sleek to Nyx’s bulky length. His fins more elegant, sweeping fans of fluttering silk flared wide and pressing flat as he postured.
Thalos.
He was… beautiful.
Shockingly so.
Below her, Nyxarion was a writhing mass of defiance and fury.
But Thalos was stillness. Serene as he floated above them all.
And clenched in his fist, commanding the currents, the hilt of a pearlescent, bladeless saber.
He flicked the weapon—she saw a glimpse of an edge catch the distant light—and the pull around her body grew tighter. Intense.
Light flared bright along her skin. Alien. Wrong. And yet, it had become a part of her, pulsing in time with her alarm.
Churning around her, a frigid glove of liquid control wrapped around her body.
And as the pressure built and the current grew stronger, Kore gasped.
Gills straining to extract enough oxygen from the now turbulent water.
Chest heaving, her scales caught the dim light as she was brought up from the depths.
Caught.
Thalos didn't blink.
Head tilting as he stared down at her, pale eyes roamed her body.
Lip curled in disgust, he made a sound at the back of his throat. Musical. Cruel.
And then he bade the current spin her in a tight, slow circle. Exposing her to his inspection.
Cheeks burning, Kore was studied by arctic blue eyes—and found desperately lacking.
Thalos made a sound in his throat, repulsed.
And then he bade the current to peel her legs apart.
Flailing, she tried to break free from his grip. To hide from the shame, even as her body flushed. Betraying her. A gush of slick perfumed the water. Her nipples—already hard and pointed, aching with the pain of denial—grew puffy with want.
Lips parting, Kore tried to plead. To beg him to let her go, let her hide. But her gills strained to simply draw breath, her voice stolen.
Still, that unnatural current brought her up. Lifting her to his height. And on her next revolution, she was close enough to see the detail. Intricate patterns in his scales. Not just silver-blue, but gleaming with shards of moonlight.
And his face.
It was all sharp angles and cold perfection.
The opposite of Nyxarion's primal ferocity.
Fins fanning in hypnotic sails as he inspected her, he was the definition of ethereal beauty. Elegance in motion. The sort of exquisite glamour she hadn't believed might exist in the world.
That she'd have to drown to see it.
Her breath caught.
Those glacier-blue eyes met hers. Pupils tiny pricks of seething interest, Thalos' gaze grew narrowed and cutting. “How… pitiful,” he whispered, his voice a ripple in the water. “Such cruelty. Nyxarion has twisted you into a parody of the life you were meant to live. A creature he means to use for but one base purpose.” Tongue clicking, Thalos’ voice was melodic perfection.
Beauty laced his every syllable, no matter that his words were cruel.
A hook digging into the bruises already festering behind her heart.
Glacial eyes wandering over her body, Thalos continued his inspection. Lingering, for a moment, on the glossy sheen gushing from between her legs. “Repulsive is a kind word for what you’ve become,” he said. “A corrupted thing. Neither human nor Pelagorn. You are grotesque.”
His fingers lifted, and the current obeyed, forcing her legs wider until her intimate flesh was fully exposed. Another wave of silver slick escaped, clouding the water between them.
A breath, and Thalos recoiled, his magnificent fins flattening against his scales in disgust. “And this… this filth you secrete. Even now, your body begs to be bred by the nearest male.”
Kore tried to curl inward, desperate to hide, but his control of the water was absolute. Her body remained splayed for his amusement.
“An affront to the sanctity of our seas,” he continued, in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “The Accord of Nisyros outlawed the creation of your kind to spare us this corruption, your vile cunt leaking poison into our pristine currents.”
His gaze lingered on the glowing blue veins beneath her skin, then on the silver ribbons of slick curling between her thighs. For just a moment, something flickered in those glacial eyes. Not only revulsion, but a flash of something more complex before it vanished into cold contempt.
Heart beating high in her throat, Kore tried to curl in on herself and hide. But Thalos’ presence commanded attention, even as he watched her with that terrible, beautiful coldness.
That frigid malice.
Her body was a plaything. No longer her own. An object to be used and corrupted.
The current swallowed her sob as Thalos continued his inspection.
And then the water trembled.
A low vibration caught in her bones before she could hear it. A sound so primal, it resonated in her marrow. The pressure ballooned inside Kore’s ribs, before that vibration slid down her spine, only to be echoed in flesh that still ached from denial.
Thalos’ lips curled around a wicked grin, his fins flaring wide as he looked into the abyss with cold, glittering interest. Down into the darkness, where a violent tempest was brewing.
Nyxarion.
Rising from the black, Nyxarion’s massive body twisted through the current. His every muscle coiled with murderous intent.
And in his fist, the trident pulsed with a sinister blue light.
His was a face she’d been trained to fear, conditioned to crave—transformed by a possessive rage so complete, it left her reeling. Shocked by the silver gleam of fury burning in his eyes.
It was a darkness fixed not to her, but to Thalos.
The current warped as the waters clashed. Commanded by dueling weapons of mystical power, the water around her churned in violent eddies, tugging her between forces.
But Nyxarion drove up, trident aimed to kill. “She bears my venom!” he roared. “You think to take what is mine?”
Inclining his head in a curious tilt, Thalos was poised, fluid grace. “The Spiral does not recognize your claim, exile. Not any more. She has another suitor.”
Tail lashing, Nyxarion sent a shockwave through the water as he circled.
“Don’t pretend this has anything to do with Thalassari law, Shallow King,” Nyxarion spat, the water around the trident’s teeth shimmering with barely restrained heat.
“The Spiral has never been sung for any but a Virelii,” he snarled, tail lashing as he twisted through the water. “Never. Yet you call it now. For her?”
Kore stiffened, a tremor rippling through her despite the current that held her between them.
Laughing low in his chest, Nyx’s gaze slid to her, just for a moment. Just long enough for Kore to see the dread gleaming in his liquid glare. “You want her for your own.”
“Want?” Thalos chimed.
“The reek of your jealousy poisons this sea,” Nyx spat, spines flaring wide and deadly.
At this, Thalos’ lips curled around a smirk.
“Jealous?” he crooned, lifting his blade to spin Kore between them.
Slow. “Of this piteous thing? This malformed creature you wish to see grow round with thin Abyssari seed? Look at it,” Thalos said.
“A perversion of nature. You’ve condemned her to a life of suffering between forms. There is nothing here to envy. ”
Swallowing, Kore’s throat grew tight and raw.
With a gesture, Thalos’ blade slipped through the current, coming too close to Kore’s navel.
“If you touch my bride, I will tear your scales from your flesh and feed your entrails to Vorynthar,” Nyxarion snarled.
But Thalos showed no hint of fear or caution when he continued to examine Kore’s nudity before saying, “This creature is a tragic mockery. Its flesh is a testament to your selfish cruelty, Nyxarion Korrides. A violation of every law and principle we strive to uphold, the very reason Abyssari face extinction, she has been condemned to an existence between worlds. Fit for neither.”
Cheeks burning, Kore curled in around herself. Trying to hide from the stabbing pain his words evoked.
Nyxarion’s face contorted with savagery. “Speak ill of her again, and there will be nothing left of you to mourn.”
The pressure around them grew soggy with tension, brimming with the promise of violence.
Crushing.
Squeezing her gills until spots danced behind her vision.
Still, Thalos remained unmoved. “The Spiral is already invoked. Attack me now, and every Pelagorn from trench to shallows will know you for the lawless miscreant you are. There will be war,” Thalos murmured, quiet and sure, “and the Abyssari will know who started it. Before they are obliterated.”
His gaze shifted, then. Electric blue eyes met Kore’s.
And then, “I will master the trials,” he said. Voice a gentle kiss of sound. “I will conquer the Spiral, and when this creature belongs to me by right of conquest”—his fins flared wide and regal—“I will grant what you would deny.”
Something foolish bubbled up in Kore’s chest, then. A flutter of desperate, clinging hope.
“I will claim this vile thing as my bride,” he declared in a voice that rang with conviction. Gaze dragging over Kore without pause or kindness. “And when it is mine, I will release it from a life of suffering. Grant the only freedom it might possibly know.”
Pulse stuttering, Kore’s breath caught at the back of her throat.
His eyes caught hers, and for a moment, Kore saw something flicker in their depths.
“Death,” he said. “In death, your Siren will be free.”