Page 19

Bree

T he day-long journey to the Thalasses kingdom was uneventful, all things considered. The three sirens fed me, kept me safe from the few predators we encountered, and allowed me a small amount of privacy when I needed to relieve myself.

The concept of how we sirens relieved ourselves or even had sex always fascinated humans. It was like they thought there was some magical element to it rather than the more simple explanation—our scales covered our private bits until we needed to use them. Easy peasy.

Then again, their fascination wasn’t too surprising, considering most humans thought we were little more than mythological creatures. Pure fantasy.

These were the thoughts that kept me occupied since none of the guards bothered speaking to me beyond basic commands. Just a handful of "stops" and "hurry-ups."

I learned only a bit about them besides their names.

Sidon, I knew, of course. Then there was Danel, the chatty one, and Baltasar, who wondered more than once what he had done to anger Oceanus, the god of the oceans, to get stuck with Danel on this mission.

I also heard about their general disgust of the sea witch, though they revealed nothing more about her or their king’s connection to her.

Other than those tidbits, their conversations were downright boring to listen to. I mean, who in their right mind thought discussing the various types of coral we saw would be interesting?

Only Danel which Baltasar reminded him of more than once. Not that he was any more interesting.

But when we arrived at the outskirts of their capital city, everything changed. Word about my arrival spread faster than a tidal wave, and pods of sirens came out to gawk as I swam past homes and shops toward the palace.

Sirens of all ages booed and yelled curses as I swam by, some even using their powerful tails to lob sticky balls of kelp at me. The stench of octopus ink—which kept the globs together and stuck to my skin and scales—made my stomach churn with nausea.

There was no doubt these sirens knew who I was, but I had no idea what had transpired over the past decade to cause such hatred.

Unless it had always been like this between our kingdoms. Or maybe they hated me because I had run away, leaving their young prince jilted.

I knew so little about anything going on here anymore.

Regardless, my face burned fiery hot with humiliation and fury by the time we reached the palace.

It rose majestically from the ocean floor, its coral sides glistening with iridescent hues that shimmered like gemstones in the filtered light from above.

Delicate, branching coral formations spiraled upward, creating spires that stretched toward the surface, their edges softened by the current.

We passed through the arched entrance, and the guards flanked me like I was something dangerous. They had no idea how right they were. Even without my magic, I might be able to bring them to their knees. Well, tails.

Similar to the Naftes palace, clusters of vibrant coral blooms formed the interior walls. Their colors shifted from soft pinks and lavenders to fiery oranges and deep reds, as if the palace itself breathed with the rhythm of the sea.

As we entered the great hall, the weight of the ocean seemed to shift around me.

It was beautiful in the same way deep-sea creatures were—glowing, otherworldly, and often deadly if you got too close.

The throne itself rose from jagged black coral, adorned with shells so white they looked like bleached bone.

Lounging atop it was King Ateleíotes.

I’d like to say that he was a small, weak man with a bulbous nose and skin blemishes galore. Unfortunately, he was the opposite of all that.

The king cut a formidable figure on his throne.

His posture was relaxed, but the stillness in him was unnerving.

Predatory. Like an eel in hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Most of his tail was a deep orange with hints of shimmering yellows and golds, and his long white beard had been woven into three braids to stay out of his face.

When his gaze fixed on mine, his light blue irises held a deep chill that struck like frostbite. His eyes didn’t just look at me—they read me. Took me apart in layers. No trace of warmth, no hint of compassion or even tolerance.

Despite his cruel and calculating demeanor, Ateleíotes was classically handsome. But he was far from attractive to me.

No, I loathed everything about him. While I didn’t regret running away and joining the circus that was the human world, my decision had been in large part because of this male’s reputation and that of his son.

Granted, I hadn’t wanted to be bartered or traded like tuna, either, but would I have made a different choice with a better suitor?

I had no idea. In all honesty, probably not. But this male was the physical embodiment of what I’d left behind, and I had been bartered away anyway.

A fresh wave of anger and shame churned through me, but I met the king’s gaze straight on. I refused to cower before him.

“So,” Ateleíotes said, his voice low and even, “you’ve returned.”

I glared at him, but without my voice, there was only so much I could convey.

As the silence stretched on, his eyes narrowed a fraction. "Witch got your tongue?"

And I was back to wanting to punch babies. Not literally, of course—just the metaphorical, boiling kind of rage that made me want to swing at something that deserved it. Like a shark. Or a dragon.

Something with teeth and a death wish.

I’d proven I could kick a dragon’s butt; taking down this soon-to-be shark snack couldn’t be any harder.

Honestly, in hand-to-hand combat without magic involved, I’d probably wipe the floor with the king’s smug face. The only problem was his guards. Well, the guards, the army, and the entire city that hated me. Minor inconveniences.

I still didn’t know why the city’s sirens had reacted the way they did, but I was sure I’d have plenty of time to figure it out. Whatever lie they had been told, they believed it.

“You should know, there were those who wanted to execute you the moment you crossed into my territory. I was not one of them.” He paused as if expecting gratitude. “I prefer obedience over waste.”

My jaw tightened.

“Your silence is convenient,” he continued. “Though it will not save you from consequence.”

I didn’t flinch or lower my gaze. He saw silence, but inside, I was already screaming rebellion.

He moved from his throne then—not quickly, but with the calm grace of a predator until he floated just before me. The king didn’t speak for a long moment. Just studied me, his gaze flicking from the rope marks on my wrists to my bare throat.

He beckoned Sidon closer, and the guard handed the king the glowing pink shell containing my magic.

My eyes narrowed. I would get my magic back. Even if it was the last thing I did, I would die with my complete self intact.

The king saw me eyeing the shell and his voice lowered, colder now. "You were promised to my son, but your insolent, selfish choices have bred instability in our kingdom. We do not tolerate instability."

He waved a hand, dismissing me and the guards. "We will dine tonight. You will be presented to my court properly. And then we will see how obedient you can be."

As Sidon led me from the room by my arm, I glanced back one more time, silently vowing to reclaim what was mine.

It turned out I was more than just a captive. I was betrothed once again to Prince Zephyrion. He had gotten married at some point over the past ten years, but his young bride died tragically in pupbirth, losing the pup as well. He hadn’t remarried since.

I learned all this while two siren females scrubbed my entire body with sea sponges until my skin was red and my scales practically glittered. Then they slathered me with some sort of sand that made my skin tingle and shimmer.

The shimmer was pretty enough, but the weird tingling sensation was driving me crazy.

Every time I scratched at it, the sirens would slap my hands away and glare at me.

I could only guess what ingredients were used in the sand to cause such a reaction, and none of my guesses were pleasant. I was probably better off not knowing.

While one of them combed through the tangles in my hair in not-so-gentle tugs, the other used various colors made from crushed shells and corals to accentuate the features of my face and body.

Once they were satisfied with their work, they draped a few pearl strands around my waist and neck and secured a beautiful pearl-lined shell top around my breasts.

The design was stunning and reminded me of home. As a princess, I often wore tops like these to various parties and events, but I’d hated playing dress-up back then, hated the attention it drew. I winced as a shell’s edge dug into my skin. Not much had changed since then.

Other than a tiny hole in the ceiling allowing a hint of natural light through, the room was windowless and primarily lit by bioluminescent algae. Which was a damn shame, since a window would have made my escape far easier. Sadly, Ateleíotes must have had the same thought.

At least he hadn’t thrown me in the dungeons. Although, from what I’d heard about the prince, I might end up preferring a cell. Who knew, I might end up in one before long, anyway.

In a corner of the room, a large nest made from kelp would serve as my bed until after the wedding, but there were no other furnishings or ways to occupy my time. Just me, myself, and my thoughts.

Well, and the two female servants who were with me for now, but they didn’t really count.

Knowing I couldn’t speak, they didn’t bother asking me questions or speaking to me at all.

If they hadn’t been grooming me, I would’ve thought I was invisible.

Or maybe I was like a statue that they were polishing as one of their routine chores.

Nothing to see here, folks. Just a little scrub and shine.

My silence must have given them a false sense of security, though. I gleaned quite a bit from their loose lips that I stored in my memories for later. It was mostly court gossip, but one never knew what information could be useful, especially in a situation like this.

When the natural light began to fade and the bioluminescent algae’s glow grew brighter, a guard led me to a dining hall.

Translucent kelp strands draped from the ceiling like chandeliers, swaying with the currents.

Coral sconces cradled glowing pearl orbs and cast a soft light that danced in watery patterns.

Ateleíotes and Zephyrion already waited, lounging within large clam shells stuffed with kelp padding. The size of the shells provided ample room for sirens to fully recline if they desired.

Over a decade had passed since I’d last seen the prince. Not since his coming-of-age ball, a few months before I’d run away. It was that night and meeting Zephyrion that had solidified my decision to leave.

Hosting such events was standard practice for royal families when formally announcing lines of succession. I would have had my own ball when I turned seventeen had I not left. Then I would have been married off faster than a sailfish could catch its dinner.

Although most Gifted species didn’t live much longer than non-Gifted humans, we benefited from a slower aging process with our appearance. So it wasn’t a surprise that the prince hadn’t changed one bit.

Well, that wasn’t quite right. He had changed, just not in his physical attributes. His ego had definitely inflated, and that self-satisfied smirk I loathed had only deepened.

He still had the same pale blond hair that was so common in this part of the ocean, and he wore it long and loose so it floated around his head like a white aura.

He was all smiles, polished edges, and the kind of easy grace that made weaker courtiers swoon.

Too bad his insides didn’t match the handsome outside.

Because his eyes…

They were hungry. And not for food.

The king and his son watched me approach with an undeniably predatory look, and I wasn’t sure who disgusted me more—father or son. They were equally horrible males.

Ateleíotes gestured to the empty clamshell on his other side. "Join us, Princess, and tell us tales of the barbaric human world."

The human world was no more barbaric than our own. As a perfect example, I couldn’t even explain that fact to him since a slimy sea serpent had stolen my voice. Keeping my head high, I swam to the seat he indicated. I would eat if only to keep my energy up.

"Ah, yes. Your silence is a gift. You should cherish it while you still can. The palace has many rooms—some for sleeping, some for punishment." His smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Let’s hope you never confuse the two."

My nostrils flared in anger.

A servant approached the king and presented a delicate spiral shell, still wriggling with whatever was inside. Ateleíotes cracked it open and popped the contents into his mouth with slow deliberation.

“The Naftes princess,” he mused aloud. “She returns without her tongue and without her kingdom. A proper bride, at last.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him the middle finger. It was a human gesture and lost on the sirens, but it made me feel better to see their stupidly quizzical expressions.

Zephyrion chuckled. “It’s almost poetic. All the fire she once had, locked away behind her lips. Tell me, Father, do you think she still dreams of freedom?”

“Let her. Dreams are the most delicious thing to crush.”

The air grew heavier around me, the weight of their cruelty more suffocating than the ocean itself.

But after that thrilling reintroduction, they continued their discussion as if I’d never joined them.

I would have wondered why they even bothered to have me join them, except I knew the answer to that.

They both loved having the power and control to do so.

Silently, I chewed the food brought out, each bite turning to ash in my mouth.

"When Calypso has seized control of the Naftes kingdom, we’ll?—"

The king cut off his son’s words with a sharp look. "Do not speak of such things in her presence."

I struggled to maintain a disinterested expression. What did he mean when Calypso seized control? My father ruled the Naftes kingdom. There was no way my people would accept a sea serpent as their queen, especially not her .

What in the deep abyss had I missed over the past ten years?