Page 9

The truth was, I was used to being feared. I had always been the outlier, the one people whispered about when they thought I couldn’t hear. But it was different now. It wasn’t just the whispers. It was in his eyes, in the way he recoiled from me.

I swallowed the knot forming in my throat, forcing myself to stand taller in the water, projecting confidence I didn’t feel.

You’re a queen, Iryen. You can’t let this break you.

“Don’t dive into these waters,” I said, my voice firm, cutting through the tension between us. I forced it to sound commanding and strong, exactly what a queen should sound like.

Exactly what I needed him to believe I was.

Calm. Unshaken. In control.

But beneath the surface, my emotions churned in a relentless storm, twisting and colliding like unseen currents in the deep.

Doubt coiled around my ribs, tightening with every breath, while agitation slithered through me, cold and insidious. I held my composure, my expression a mask of quiet certainty, but inside, the waters were anything but still.

Stay calm. Don’t let him see how much this rattles you.

My mom’s voice flashed through my mind, and a pang of sadness coiled down my spine. I buried deep in the back of my brain like every time when a memory of her threatened to resurface.

“The only way out is if you have a tail,” I continued, watching him closely, searching for any sign showing he was indeed hybrid.

His eyes held defiance, a fire I’d seen countless times before in those who didn’t yet understand the danger they faced.

“And as far I’m concerned, you don’t have one, do you? ”

“Hell no. I’m perfectly human,” he snapped back, his voice laced with certainty, almost daring me to contradict him. The conviction in his words was sharp, cutting through my suspicions and planting a seed of doubt. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, I almost believed him.

But Sienna couldn’t be wrong.

I held onto that fact like a lifeline.

Sienna had the sight and couldn’t make such a grave mistake. Which meant…he either didn’t know, or he hadn’t shifted yet. Both possibilities made my stomach twist into knots.

If he doesn’t know, what happens when he finds out?

The gravity of the situation bore down on me, but I couldn’t falter. Not in front of him. Not now. My mind raced through every possibility, every potential disaster waiting to unravel if I didn’t handle this carefully.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay steady even as uncertainty gnawed at my insides. “Just…don’t. This isn’t a game and the waters aren’t kind to those who don’t know how to navigate it.”

His brows furrowed, but he said nothing, the tension between us thick as the humid night air.

Without another word, I turned and dove beneath the surface, my body transforming effortlessly as I slipped into the familiar waters. The ocean embraced me like an old friend, the pressure of the deep comforting in a way the surface world never was.

Here, beneath the waves, I could be myself. I could let the mask slip, even if just for a moment.

The vast expanse of the ocean stretched out before me, dark and endless, but the safety it offered felt fleeting. The palace loomed ahead, glowing like a beacon in the night.

Surrounded by flowing waterfalls and intricate coral gardens, the palace gleams with soft incandescent hues, casting an ethereal light over the entire kingdom.

Inside, grand halls lined with iridescent shells and silken tapestries create an atmosphere of regal elegance, reflecting the power and beauty of the royal family.

But even here, in the heart of my kingdom, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending disaster.

Duty. Responsibility. Strength.

The words played on a loop in my mind, a constant reminder of the burden I carried.

As I swam through the grand, opalescent halls, the light from the moon above filtered through the water, casting silver patterns on the walls.

Overwhelmed by the day, every stroke felt heavier and more burdensome than the one before. I was desperate for sleep. My body screamed in agony after enduring hours that felt like days. Everything had changed.

My thoughts swirled in a chaotic whirlpool as I approached the gilded doors of my quarters, hoping for some reprieve, if only for a few hours.

I heard Aetheria’s pulse, the magic that sustained our city, gently humming in the background, bringing me back to reality for a moment. But instead of entering my chambers, I hesitated, the pull of a familiar presence drawing me elsewhere.

I stopped before my grandmother’s chambers, her golden doubled doors adorned with intricately carved coral patterns and pearls. The sight brought a small sense of comfort. She always knew what to say, always had the wisdom I lacked in moments like these.

I raised my hand, knocking softly against the door, the sound muffled. My voice, though quiet, carried my exhaustion and unspoken fears. “Grandmother… it’s me.”

There was a brief pause, but soon, her voice, soft yet steady, drifted through my mind like a gentle current. “Come in, my child.”

I pushed open the door and the familiar warmth of her chambers immediately enveloped me. A soft glow from vibrant clams bathed the room, casting a soothing, pale blue light over everything. The scent of lavender hung in the air, calming my racing heart.

My grandmother sat near the far end of the room, her white hair cascading around her like liquid silver, her deep green eyes gleaming with both wisdom and concern.

“You look troubled,” she said, her tone gentle, but with the knowing edge that made it clear she had sensed my unease long before I had knocked.

I sighed, swimming slowly toward her and taking a seat across from her on a cushion made of woven anemonas. The soft texture of it pressed against my tail as I settled in.

“I just returned from the caves,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck.

She watched me for a long moment, her expression unreadable, though her eyes never left mine. “You saw the human then. What are your opinions regarding him?”

I felt a shiver down my spine at her question, a sharp and sudden jolt that twisted its way through my chest.

An opinion .

The word swirls in my head. It was such a simple thing to ask, yet it stirred something dark and painful within me. My hands trembled slightly, memories clawing their way to the surface like a rising tide I couldn’t control.

The last time I had an opinion, I didn’t listen to my parents. And that got them killed. The sting of deception was extensive, a wound that had never truly healed .

It wasn’t just their death—it was the gnawing guilt that haunted my conscience, the suffocating ache of knowing that my choices had played a part in their downfall. I’d been so certain, so defiant in my belief, that I knew better than anyone else.

But I was wrong. Horribly, unforgivably wrong.

The image of my ex-fiance’s face, the way his expression had twisted into something cold and monstrous, flashed before me. I could still see the blood on his hands, crimson staining his once-familiar fingers.

My parents’ blood.

The disloyalty cut was so raw that sometimes I felt like a knife lodged in my soul, twisting every time I dared to let myself trust someone new.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I looked at my grandmother. She didn’t know, no one truly did, how that moment had shattered me. How every decision since then felt like I was walking on broken glass, afraid that one wrong step would rip me apart again.

“My opinions don’t matter, only your ruling grandma,” I said respectfully, my voice low and heavy with the pain of my past. “Especially when they blinded me from the truth.”

“Iryen,” she whispered, the sharpness in her eyes melting into something gentler, more understanding.

“Do not underestimate yourself. You’ve been through more than anyone should have to bear.

But do not let the ghosts of the past control your future or let fear dictate your decisions.

You are more than the mistakes you’ve made. Trust yourself.”

“I will try,” I said, though the words felt hollow. “But sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, their shadows are always there, waiting for me to make another mistake.”

I wanted to believe her. To hold on to the hope she offered, to let myself think I could be more than the girl who had once loved a murderer. But the scars ran deep, and the echoes of my parents’ voices, silenced too soon, still horrified me.

My grandmother reached out, placing her hand over mine, her touch warm and reassuring in a way I desperately needed. “Mistakes are part of life, child. But it’s what you do after that defines who you are. That’s all you need to do, my dear. The rest will come on time. Now tell me about the human?”

I hesitated, the words tangled on the tip of my tongue. How could I explain what had happened without sounding like I’d lost control? But, I had lost control.

My pulse quickened as the memory of Adrian’s wide, startled eyes flooded my mind. I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself.

“He saw me,” I blurted out before I could think twice.

Grandmother’s soft smile appeared, her eyes gleaming with understanding that made my heart clench. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face with the gentle affection she’d always shown me.

“What do you mean, saw you?” she asked in that patient tone of hers, as if nothing could surprise her. “We predicted interaction with him and knew he would see you, eventually.”

“No, Grandma,” I shook my head, feeling a rush of exasperation at her calmness. Couldn’t she see how dire this was? “He saw my tail!” I said, the urgency creeping into my voice.

I watched as a flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes, a rare slip in her usual composed demeanor. But, as always, she quickly masked it, her expression softening once more. Still, the brief crack in her calm made my stomach twist with unease.

For a moment, she was silent, as if carefully considering her response.

“Your tail ?” she repeated quietly, her tone thoughtful, though I could tell she was weighing the implications. “That… complicates th ings.” Her brow furrowed slightly before she asked, “Did you discover if he is a hybrid or not?”

I felt my hands tighten into fists at my sides, my throat constricting and the panic I’d been holding back rushing to the surface.

I knew he was a hybrid, but I couldn’t tell her.

The council would force her to report the truth if she knew it, and she couldn’t lie to them. I had to lie for her. To her.

“He’s just human,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue, each syllable a betrayal.

I hated it, hated having to deceive her, my own grandmother.

But if the council found out that a landsman was a hybrid, they would kill him without hesitation.

The image of Adrian’s lifeless body, cold and motionless, made me feel sick to my core.

I couldn’t let that happen. No matter the cost.

Hybrids were powerful and unpredictable, often seen as a threat to us. Their cunning and ability to move between the land and sea were well known. To the council, they were treacherous. Untrustworthy.

It was that fear of the unknown, that prejudice ingrained in our society, that could get him killed. And I couldn’t let that fate befall him. I don’t understand why, but I couldn’t bear the thought.

My grandmother studied me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, as though she could sense the lie radiating off me. I held my breath, praying she wouldn’t press further. I had to keep Adrian safe, no matter how much it hurt to lie.

“Very well,” she drawled, her voice tinged with doubt. “But if there’s even the slightest chance he poses a danger to our world, you must tell me, Iryen. The safety of our people comes first.”

I nodded, forcing my expression to remain calm, though inside I was crumbling. “I understand,” I whispered, though the impact of my words made it feel like I was suffocating.

How could I tell her the truth when it would mean his death?

I felt a wave of shame washed over me, threatening to drown me in its depths. I had always been honest with her and always trusted her guidance. But now, I was keeping the most important secret I’d ever held, and it felt like a crack in the foundation of our relationship.

I had no choice.

Adrian did not know what he was, had no idea of the danger he was in. If the council ever discovered his true nature, they wouldn’t hesitate to see him as a threat.

They wouldn’t care about his ignorance or confusion. To them, hybrids were a race that needed to be eradicated, and history was full of cautionary tales to reinforce that belief.

Untrustworthy. Dangerous.

But none of it applied to the human I met.

He didn’t deserve to be condemned just for existing, for something he didn’t even understand about himself.

I couldn’t let him be another casualty of fear.

But the lie I had just told, it felt like a rope around my neck, and I knew it would only grow tighter as time went on. How long could I keep this from her? From the council? How long before Adrian’s presence in my life became too serious to hide?

I had just risen to leave when her voice, sharp and unyielding, hit my head.

“Tomorrow at dawn, we will report to the council your findings and decide his future.”

Gone was the gentle warmth of my grandmother. In her place stood the command of a queen, unyielding, decisive, and bound by duty. The finality in her tone sent a chill down my spine. There was no more room for hesitation or delay.

I turned slowly, the burden of her proclamation sinking in like a stone in my chest. My heart raced, but my face remained composed. She had drawn a line, one I couldn’t easily escape.

“Yes, Grandmother,” I said, my voice steady, though inside I was trembling. “I’ll be ready.”

As I left her chambers, I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding with the enormity of what I had just done. The lie I’d spoken might have saved him for now, but it had also put us on a perilous path. One wrong move, one slip, and everything would unravel.

I just hoped I was strong enough to handle the consequences when that time comes.