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Bringing her here—bringing her into my world, into my kingdom—has caused something to settle between us. A tether neither of us can ignore. Even now, I feel it tightening, coiling around my ribs, pulling her closer with every step she takes.

She belongs here.

She would never admit it, but I can feel it in the way she moves, the way her eyes linger too long on the glowing coral spires beyond the glass walls, the way her fingers brush absentmindedly over the water as though she’s trying to understand it.

A dragon in the deep.

I bite my lip, amused by the poetic irony of it.

“Come,” I say softly, guiding her toward a vast chamber where the walls curve like the inside of a seashell, smooth and pearlescent, opening into an enormous dome of swirling water.

Tiny specks of golden light drift lazily inside—the Lirien Bloom.

My jellyfish.

They glow like submerged stars, their long, delicate tendrils trailing behind them in the slow, rhythmic dance of the tides. The moment I step inside, they stir, sensing me, their pulses brightening with recognition.

Nyxara stops beside me, arms crossed, observing them with quiet curiosity.

“They are beautiful,” she admits after a moment.

I smirk, reaching out as two of them drift closer, their pulsing forms illuminating my fingers in soft gold. Luma & Neridia. My ever-faithful companions.

“They like you,” I murmur, watching as Luma pulses a little brighter, tentacles curling toward Nyxara, drawn to the warmth of her magic.

Nyxara tilts her head, watching them with an unreadable expression. “Strange little creatures.”

I chuckle. “Careful, Dragon Queen. Say enough pretty words and I might think you enjoy being here.”

She turns, her green eyes sharp. “Don’t push it.”

I laugh, stepping forward. The jellyfish move toward me, curling around my arms, their soft, gelatinous forms pressing gently against my skin.

“They are guardians,” I explain, watching as one of them drifts toward Nyxara, nudging at her forearm. She stiffens, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

I shake my head. “They don’t sting, you know.”

Her gaze flicks to me. “If they did, I would burn them.”

A low chuckle escapes my lips. “You wouldn’t.”

Her expression sharpens. “And why is that?”

I take a slow step toward her, my bare feet gliding over the smooth floor, closing the space between us. The energy between us shifts, something thick, weighted, unspoken.

“Because,” I whisper, trailing a finger along her wrist, where the jellyfish had touched, “you would never harm something that belongs to me.”

She doesn’t move.

She just watches me, her emerald eyes flickering with something unreadable, something dangerous. Something hungry.

I glance at the jellyfish. “Leave us.”

At once, they retreat, gliding back into the water, the chamber dimming slightly as their soft glow fades into the deep.

The moment they are gone, the weight between us crashes down in full force.

Nyxara’s breath is steady, controlled but I see the truth in her eyes. The way her restraint wavers, the way her claws twitch at her sides, aching to grab me, to claim.