CHAPTER ONE
LAIROS
W aves lapped at the shoreline in a hypnotic rhythm that did nothing to soothe my growing irritation.
I hid it with a final sip from my goblet and lounged back on cushions beneath the open side of the Khadian tent.
Clouds drifted peacefully across the sky, at odds with the bustling activity from the little kingdoms of canvas dotting the beach.
Kaerius caught my eye and inclined his head in silent acknowledgment.
Further down, Bourne proved he wasn’t above personally sticking his tentacles into things.
Others bickered and postured or disappeared entirely into their tents with their entourages.
Seven rulers of Sanos.
Seven potential saviors for the dying human race.
Seven sharks circling the same wounded prey.
The drums of protest echoed from beyond the secured perimeter of our summit.
“No humans! Keep Sanos safe!” The chants had grown with the tide.
Let them howl.
Their complaints wouldn’t change a damn thing.
The Legacy’s arrival had turned our world upside down.
Better to deal with this madness than risk the humans trying to settle anywhere they pleased.
At least this way we had a chance at containing them.
“Thirsty, my king?”
I slowly dragged my attention up the lithe figure of a pretty servant with blue-green scales trailing down her spine.
Her voice carried the musical lilt of the southern shoals.
A largely safe and pampered region, with more pleasure-seekers than fighters.
“Always.” I let my fingers brush against hers as I took the fresh goblet.
Her breath hitched at the touch, her pulse thumping beneath the fragile surface of her throat.
She smiled, eyes drifting down then back up with calculated shyness.
“Will you need anything else?”
I traced the rim of my goblet with one finger and winked.
She lingered, her scaled hip cocked in invitation.
Pleasure-seeker, indeed.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
An order for all others to vacate the tent, perhaps.
Or pulling her into my lap for some handsy business and uncomfortable negotiations for those on the other side of the table?
“Enjoying yourself, brother?”
The voice chilled me like deep water.
I didn’t turn immediately, savoring my last moment of peace.
“Nedaris.” I finally looked up at my younger brother and eternal pain in my ass.
“What a surprise.”
He wasn’t alone.
Behind him filed six warriors in the distinctive obsidian armor of the Knights of the Depths.
Their faces bore the ritual scars and markings of fanatics.
Not my skin, not my scars, not my concern.
But the fuckers had a habit of terrorizing drycaves in the name of rooting out evil or traitors.
That they kept finding poor souls who simply didn’t swim out of the way fast enough, however, was my concern.
I rose with deliberate slowness, letting my goblet dangle carelessly from my fingers.
“I don’t recall sending for you. In fact, I distinctly remember leaving you with very specific duties back home.”
Nedaris stood with that perfect posture that always made me want to slouch more.
He’d shaved the back and sides of his head, and pulled the rest of his hair into the topknot worn by the rest of the Knights.
He offered a shallow bow that managed to convey both respect and contempt.
“The Knights expressed concerns about the arrangements being made here.” His voice carried that familiar note of superiority that I just loved .
“As your heir, I felt it prudent to witness these negotiations firsthand.”
“Prudent,” I echoed, letting my gaze drift over the Knights.
One placed a hand on the hilt of his charged blade in a subtle gesture that had my own guards tensing.
“And did prudence require bringing half a squadron of zealots to a diplomatic summit?”
The servant wisely melted away as I closed the distance between us.
I kept my voice low, intimate, a king speaking to his brother, not a ruler addressing a subject.
“What in all the depths are you playing at?” I hissed.
“Bringing the Knights here without my consent?”
“They represent the concerns of our people,” Nedaris countered, standing his ground.
“Concerns you seem determined to ignore while you drink and flirt your way through the most significant threat our kingdom has ever faced.”
“Threat?” I kept eye contact and sipped my drink—fermented kelp with a punch I’d love to deliver to his throat.
“It’s not like we haven’t seen this show before. Shipwrecks. Explorers. Doesn’t matter the shape or origin; they’re all just wet meat with delusions of grandeur.”
“They’ll take and take until there’s nothing left,” he insisted.
“Their history proves as much.”
“Desperation,” I grinned through gritted teeth, “is the most useful trait of all.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught movement—my advisors approaching.
Old men with old ideas.
They clustered around Nedaris like remoras on a shark.
“With respect, Your Majesty,” began Derwan, the eldest.
“Prince Nedaris speaks for many. The Knights have support among our people. The council feels?—”
“I don’t give a fuck what the council feels,” I cut him off.
“I am King. I decide who attends this summit.”
My brother’s eyes—so like our father’s but lacking the gold ring around the iris—hardened to emerald chips.
“As your heir, I have the right to be present for all matters of state. Unless you plan to name another successor?”
The challenge hung between us.
He knew I wouldn’t—couldn’t—remove him as heir.
Not without destabilizing the kingdom.
The Knights shifted behind him, a silent reminder of their growing influence.
Not for the first time, I regretted sending Nedaris to train on the frontier.
The time I’d spent there had done me well—cleared my head, given me focus beyond bedding every willing body in the kingdom.
I’d thought the experience would do the same for him, help him grow beyond his grief over our father’s death.
But where I’d found clarity, he’d found the Knights and their rigid doctrine.
A distant boom rolled across the sky, vibrating through my bones.
The capsule had entered the atmosphere.
Heads poked from nearby tents like curious fish from coral, the momentary distraction diffusing some of the tension between us.
“Fine,” I spat, turning my attention back to Nedaris.
“Stay. Watch. But keep your Knights in line. They start any trouble, and I’ll personally see them returned to the depths they worship so much.”
I stalked back to my cushions and reclaimed my lounging position with practiced nonchalance.
Nedaris took his place at my right as tradition demanded, his burning stare boring into the side of my face.
The advisors arranged themselves in formation, while the Knights positioned themselves along the tent walls like living statues.
And then we waited.
Gods below, I hated the waiting.
Kings spent their entire lives waiting.
Waiting for reports, waiting for councils, waiting for crises to resolve.
I didn’t get to see the capsule land.
Didn’t get to watch the humans emerge, blinking in our alien sunlight.
Didn’t get to observe their first reactions to our world.
Instead, I sat on my ass.
Waiting.
I drummed my fingers against my goblet, counting the minutes by the crash of waves against the shore.
From outside came sounds of footsteps rushing to and fro, voices calling out directions, the swell of outrage as the protestors grew bolder with each passing moment.
Then something else.
A faint, strange rhythm.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Not the drums of protest.
Not drums from one of the other delegations.
This was something…
different.
More organic.
Insistent.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump .
It grew louder with each passing second.
Not from outside, but somehow inside my own head.
Like blood rushing through my ears, but with a cadence I couldn’t ignore.
“The human representative approaches, Your Majesty,” Derwan announced from the tent entrance.
About fucking time.
I straightened, adopting the bored expression I’d perfected over years of court politics.
Two Khadian guards stepped through, followed by a human woman.
The thumping sound exploded in my ears.
“King Lairos of the Delovia Ridge,” Derwan intoned, “may I present Emme Mathis, diplomatic envoy of the USS Legacy.”
She was small by our standards, with pale skin and hair the color of bleached coral cut in a severe line at her jaw.
Her form-fitting uniform hugged curves that made my mouth go dry.
Gray eyes scanned the tent, assessing everything in one sweep.
Beautiful, yes, but females of all forms could be beautiful.
This was something else.
Something that made my gills itch beneath my skin, that made the scales along my spine shiver with awareness.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away.
There was only her.
Only us.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Her heartbeat.
Her fucking heartbeat sang its soul song for me.
A mate— my mate—here, now, in human form?
The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
Khadians spent lifetimes searching for the one whose soul song resonated with their own.
Some never found their match, but those who did formed bonds deeper than the ocean trenches.
They shared every triumph, every fear, every secret thrill as if they were their own.
And mine turned out to be this alien diplomat with no gills, no scales, and half of Sanos and my own court screaming for her kind to be cast back into the stars.
She blinked, breaking the spell.
Her gaze darted around the tent, confusion clear on her face.
“I... I’m sorry, I thought this was meant to be a group meeting? With all the rulers?”
I forced a lazy grin, hiding my shock.
Her voice.
By the depths, even her voice was intoxicating.
“We’ve arranged to meet you one at a time. Less chance of us killing each other that way.”
“I see.” Her expression remained neutral, but her pulse—that godsdamn pulse I couldn’t stop hearing—quickened.
“And have you all agreed to the terms we proposed?”
“We agreed not to kill each other if we decide to take any humans into our domains,” I said, leaning forward.
“But the deal to accept those humans has yet to be reached.”
Her jaw tightened.
Good.
I liked the rage of a storm in the calm gray sea of her eyes.
“Your Majesty.” The servant appeared at my side with fresh drinks, leaning close enough that her scent would normally have distracted me.
I dismissed her with a wave, my eyes never leaving Emme.
I gestured to the cushions across from me.
“Please, sit. Tell me what Earth has to offer the Khadian people in exchange for sanctuary.”
Emme approached with measured steps, her gaze briefly flickering to Nedaris and the Knights before returning to me.
She stiffly knelt and settled onto the cushions, her posture remaining impeccable.
“The Legacy carries scientists, engineers, and medical professionals,” she began, her voice steady despite the tension in the tent.
“We bring technology and knowledge that could benefit your people.”
“I’m sure you do.” I traced the rim of my goblet with one finger, already imagining how much fun it would be to crack that no-nonsense exterior of hers for a peek inside.
“I’m particularly interested in what you bring to the table, Emme Mathis.”
“I’m a marine biologist. My expertise is in oceanic ecosystems.” The words were pure business, but the soul song thrummed through my blood, making it hard to focus on anything but the way her lips formed each perfect syllable.
“Ideal for a water world.” I grinned.
“Almost as if you were made for Sanos.”
“Ideal for ensuring sustainable integration,” she clarified.
An irrational spike of jealousy flared in my chest.
To think of her landing on some other planet, stepping into some other king’s court…
But she hadn’t gone to another world; she’d come to mine.
She would be mine.
“Your expertise would be valuable to our kingdom,” I said, aware of Nedaris shifting restlessly beside me.
“The question remains whether your people can adapt to our ways.”
Nedaris cleared his throat.
“Your Majesty, if I may. The council has concerns about the impact of human settlement on our waters. Their history of environmental damage?—”
“Is precisely why we need Ms. Mathis’s expertise,” I finished for him.
“Unless you believe we should ignore the opportunity to learn from their mistakes?”
Emme’s eyes narrowed slightly, again sweeping the room and cataloging the tension.
“We’re well aware of the concerns about our presence. The protestors made that clear even before we landed.”
So, she knew about the opposition.
Good.
But the decision wasn’t theirs to make, it was mine.
All mine, and I’d decided the moment her heart sang to mine.
“The Knights of the Depths believe these concerns are justified,” Nedaris pressed.
“Human technology has proven destructive to their own world. What guarantee do we have they won’t bring that destruction here?”
“We watched our oceans die.” Emme’s words rang through the tent with brutal honesty.
“We’re not here to repeat history—we’re here because we have nowhere else to go. Every human on the Legacy understands exactly what we lost and what was destroyed by our own hands. We’re not offering empty promises of technology and knowledge. We’re offering everything we have, everything we are, in exchange for a chance to do better.”
As if to mock her, specifically, the ground beneath us trembled.
A distant boom rolled across the beach, followed by shouts of alarm.
“The protestors!” Someone shouted outside the tent.
“The protestors have breached the perimeter!”
Another explosion, closer this time.
The high-pitched whine of energy weapons filled the air as the tent’s protective field activated, shimmering blue against the canvas walls.
Advisors scrambled back from the edges while the Knights shifted into defensive stances, hands on their sword hilts and looking to Nedaris.
“Protect the king!” Nedaris shouted, the Knights drawing their blades in unison.
Energy fields pulsed down their lengths.
My blood burned with the need to get Emme to safety.
The tent would hold against conventional weapons, but we were effectively trapped if the attackers surrounded us.
I wasn’t about to let my mate die in some ill-conceived protest.
“We need to move,” I said, reaching for Emme’s arm.
“Now.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Where exactly?—”
The tent shuddered as something heavy slammed against it.
Through the opening, I could see smoke rising from the direction of the other rulers’ tents.
Screams and weapons fire mixed with the protestors’ chants turned war cries.
A blast tore through the tent’s protective field, sending us all diving for cover.
Sand and debris rained down as more explosions rocked the summit.
Emme rolled away from a falling support beam, straight toward the open side of the tent and the churning water beyond.
I lunged after her, ignoring Nedaris’s shout of warning.
The surf crashed against the beach with unnatural force, waves reaching further up the sand than they should.
As another explosion lit up the sky, I caught her wrist and dove.
We hit the water together, the violent current dragging us under.