Page 20

Bree

" W hy shouldn’t I mention her father’s crumbling kingdom in front of her?" Zephyrion's tone was smooth, almost teasing, like we were sharing a private joke. His smirk barely masked the malice in his eyes as they swept over me. "It’s not like she can say anything against it."

King Ateleíotes didn’t sigh. He didn’t flinch. He simply turned his head toward his son with glacial precision, the movement alone enough to chill the water between them. "Must you always sound so desperate for attention?"

The prince’s jaw twitched. A flush bloomed high on his cheekbones. "You forget yourself," he said tightly. "I’m the heir. The next king."

At least my dinner came with some free entertainment. All I needed was the popcorn and an emergency exit.

"And I remain the current one," Ateleíotes replied. He rose slowly from his seat, not in anger but in icy finality. His gaze cut across the space between him and his son like a drawn blade. "Do not confuse succession with authority. Not in my presence."

As Zephyrion balked, the king grabbed me by the arm and hauled me away from my seat. His grip on my arm was sure to leave bruises. He dragged me back to the room he’d given me. Guards floated just outside, and they bowed as their king approached.

Shoving me through the seaweed curtain, Ateleíotes followed me in. He swam right up into my face until my back pressed against a wall. "You never should have embarrassed me by running away. I’ll make sure you and your father—your entire kingdom —pay for your blatant disrespect."

I clenched my fists and glared back at him, wishing I could give him a piece of my mind and a taste of my fury.

He let his gaze drop, eyeing my cleavage, then trailed a hand across my chest until I slapped his hand away.

He didn’t lunge or shout. He simply placed a hand at my throat and pressed—slowly, deliberately—until the jagged coral wall dug into my back.

I didn’t gasp or flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

"Careful, princess," he murmured, as if offering a fatherly warning. "The only reason I’ve allowed this union to proceed is because I take great pleasure in imagining your father’s face when he learns what my son has done to his precious daughter."

His grip tightened by a breath. "And the many ways in which he’s done it."

A shiver rolled up my spine. I didn’t doubt for a second that Zephyrion was as despicable as he suggested. Like father, like son, after all. I fought the urge to recoil, to flinch, to claw his hand away. I stayed still and silent. I wouldn’t give him the reaction he wanted.

But my pulse betrayed me, hammering wildly against his palm.

He smiled. Not kind. Not cruel—just satisfied.

"Soon," he said, releasing me with the calm detachment of the tide receding after a storm, leaving only the wreckage behind, "your father will submit to my rule. And you?"

His eyes flicked over me like I was already conquered. "You will remember this moment and understand that submission was never a choice.”

I rubbed my throat as he left, promising myself that I would figure out a way to stop him. I was sure I wasn’t the first female he’d hurt and threatened, but I would make sure I was his last.

No matter the species, males like him always believed themselves to be invincible, like they were the gods’ gift to the world.

While they were often formidable opponents because of their wealth or strength, they weren’t gods.

Every mortal creature had at least one weakness. I would find his, of that I was sure.

The ocean didn’t submit.

And neither did I.

The king announced my wedding to the prince the very next day, and it would take place in two days. Which meant I only had two days to figure out a way out of this mess before I was legally bound to a sadistic monster. Before I lost my freedom completely.

The legality of our marriage might have been in question; what he would do to me was not.

The siren females assigned to care for my needs gossiped plenty.

During their visits, I heard multiple stories of the prince’s disgusting behavior.

I would have chalked it up to them making up stories to scare me, but I’d heard plenty of similar rumors a decade ago, before I’d left home.

I was confident his depravity had only worsened since then.

I still didn’t understand why my father would promise me to someone that vile, but I was determined to ask him directly.

Oh, yes, after this ordeal was over, there would be no more hiding out in fear of my father’s wrath. I was done with that. I would face my father and tell him exactly what I thought of him and how little I would heed his command going forward.

Did that also mean I had accepted the fact that I would never return to the human world? That I would never see Marissa or Frankie again?

Or Nic?

I rubbed my chest, wishing I had the magic to heal my aching heart.

Oh, who was I kidding? Would I actually face my father on purpose? Probably not, but pretending like I would and imagining all the things I’d say to him felt fantastic. Motivating even.

I held onto those thoughts as the hours continued to pass, and I got no closer to figuring out a way to break the witch’s shell and regain my magic.

The night before the wedding would take place, full-blown panic mode had kicked in. The king had forbidden Zephyrion from touching me before the wedding, which was a small mercy, but I was terrified of what would happen once his father let him off his leash.

No matter what happened after tomorrow, I wouldn’t let him break me.

That evening, as I rested on the giant clamshell serving as my chair in the dining hall, I stared at my food, unable to eat. Unable to do much of anything but think through everything I’d seen and heard, trying to find a connection, something that would give me a way out.

But try as I might, I kept coming up empty.

"…and make sure she gets the pufferfish poison for the dragons," Ateleíotes said.

Whoa…what? Did he just say dragons?

I tuned back into their conversation. My hand, which had been pushing small bits of octopus around my plate, stilled.

"How long will this trade continue?" Zephyrion’s lip curled into a sneer. "It’s beneath us to do business with a serpent, especially a witch."

They had to be talking about Calypso. There might have been other sea serpent witches, but these sirens had an established connection to Calypso. But how had she and dragons ended up in the same conversation tonight? I mentally smacked myself for not paying attention sooner.

The king took a bite and chewed before answering. "It will continue as long as I wish. The dragons pay her well for their little crystal potion, and she pays us for the poison. It’s a symbiotic relationship."

My breath caught in my throat, remembering what Dominic had said about pyrocrystals right before our match:

"Ichiro has figured out a way to create them en masse and is selling them to Gifted people. They’re a very powerful and addictive drug to anyone not bonded to a dragon. He’s using them to force submission and seize control. Soon, he’ll be more unstoppable than he already is."

If Ichiro was behind the pyrocrystal problem in D.C., did that mean Ichiro was working with Calypso too?

Holy coconuts, Catwoman.

Did Dominic know about their arrangement?

It seemed unlikely, but we hadn’t exactly had the chance to discuss the details.

The only times I’d heard about the crystals were that time with Dominic and once with Frankie.

I’d found a crystal in the gym, not knowing what it was. Of course the fae woman knew.

Thoughts of the dragon made my heart clench painfully, as they always did. There was so much I regretted over the last few weeks, but hurting him had to be among the worst. That and trusting the sea witch, of course.

I’d hurt Frankie too, I was sure, but I knew she would understand in time, if not immediately. I’d failed them both.

Trusting the witch was just stupidity on my part. I had purposefully hurt Nic. Yes, I’d done it to save him, but I’d still done it.

Maybe I could win his forgiveness by telling him about Ichiro and Calypso. Or at least maybe it would be a step in the right direction, even if he’d moved on already.

If I ever got back to land, that is.

That prospect was dwindling with every passing moment.