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Her gills flared, inhaling water and shoving the air from her lungs, but she hardly felt the burn.

The duke thrashed in her hold, but Mer managed to wrap her legs around his arms and waist, locking her ankles together so he couldn’t move. The vile man tossed his head back as if to headbutt her, but she caught it between her palms.

Fear and disgust writhed in her gut from just touching the man.

A song of hate and prey rose from her lips as they drifted down the sharp slope of the bay toward open water. Tears burned her eyes.

Don’t kill him. Think of Phia.

Her last straw had snapped when he’d caressed the skin of Mer’s lower back. She’d dealt with his wild stories of taming a seacat and all the innuendoes the entire morning.

The veiled threats were the worst.

Familiar shapes appeared in the distance, advancing toward them.

Keventin convulsed in her arms, fighting harder as the largest leviathan Mer had ever encountered swam closer. She shivered, trying to keep her mind from fogging. The water was just so cold.

A pregnant female with many scars along her sleek striped body.

The beast hummed in reply, its rows of sharp teeth visible. She was hungry and looking for a fight.

Mer held the duke tighter and whispered in his ear, “You came to me in the dark like a coward. You may think you hold power but know that I hold the ocean in my hand, and you’re fortified Keep hovers over my domain. There is no place you can go to escape me. If Phia or Sienna are harmed in any way, I will make sure you suffer the most gruesome death imaginable.”

He shook, the stench of his fear in the water.

She dismissed the man and locked eyes with the leviathan, turning her song into something softer, pleading, peaceful. The beastie didn’t retreat. Mer released her hands and held them out, making herself bigger. They would not become the creature’s meal. Her fingers tingled, moving slowly from the icy water.

A different tune reached her ears, and Mer fought not to break the stare off with the leviathan. Lack of dominance could get her killed. The song grew sharper.

Another Sirenidae?

The beastie darted forward and passed them, chasing a smaller shark that had come too close.

Mer released the duke, who clumsily clawed for the surface, his movements sluggish.

She pushed her short hair from her face and searched the depths for the song, which had abruptly cut off.

Just the creatures of the sea feeding off bay scraps.

It was only your imagination.

Grief and exhaustion crashed down on her, and all she wanted to do was lie down on the silt sand and sleep. The shivers increased, the skin around her gills aching from the cold.

Move.

Mer pushed off the bottom of the bay and swam toward the surface. The duke had slowed, his movements sluggish.

Don’t let him die.

Catching him underneath the armpits, Mer gritted her teeth and towed Keventin up. Movement near the docks caught her eye. The king hovered in the water just a few feet beneath the surface, his silver eyes narrowed as they neared the surface.

A thread of panic wound around her heart. How much had he seen?

Human eyesight was poor in saltwater.

Mer pointedly ignored the king and helped the duke reach the surface. He coughed and spluttered, gasping for air when she pushed him against the slick dock, holding them both up, her legs gently kicking to keep them afloat.

The dock was pure bedlam.