CHAPTER TWO
EMME
W ater rushed into my lungs.
The shock of it paralyzed me as my body fought against instinct, desperate not to inhale more.
Pressure squeezed my chest from the inside out.
My vision blurred, darkening at the edges.
This wasn’t how I was supposed to die.
Not on first contact.
Not before securing a future for the thousands still asleep on the Legacy.
Strong arms locked around my waist, pulling me deeper.
I thrashed against them, my oxygen-starved brain screaming to reach the surface.
But the current was too powerful, the arms too strong.
Then I felt it.
A vibration that started as a low rumble before expanding into something that defied description.
Not quite sound, not quite touch.
It pulsed through the water around me, through my skin, into my bones.
The king was.
.
.
singing?
The sea itself seemed to obey him.
Water pulled away from my face, creating a perfect bubble of air around my head.
I gasped, coughing out seawater as precious oxygen filled my burning lungs.
My vision cleared, the bubble acting like an old-school diving helmet.
“Breathe,” Lairos commanded, his voice distorted but understandable through the water barrier.
“Just breathe.”
His transformation stunned me into compliance.
The briefings on Khadian physiology had mentioned their aquatic adaptations, but seeing it in action—experiencing it—was something else entirely.
He hovered in the water as naturally as I could stand on a mountaintop.
Gills fluttered along his neck, opening and closing with each breath.
Deep red-gold scales spread over his shoulders and down his back and legs, which had fused into a powerful, fringed tail.
Above us, distorted by the water’s surface, flashes of weapons fire illuminated the churning waves.
One blast, then another, sliced through the water and shot past us.
“We need to move,” Lairos snarled.
“Now.”
As if I had any choice.
One arm hooked around my waist, and he dove deeper with sweeping strokes of that impressive tail.
My bubble of air moved with me, defying every law of the natural world I knew.
The deeper we went, the darker it became.
Light filtered through in wavering beams, throwing strange formations and darting sea life into temporary spotlight.
I should have been terrified—and part of me was—but another part marveled at what I was seeing.
Untouched coral formations.
Vibrant ecosystems.
Life, thriving where Earth’s oceans had died.
This was everything we’d hoped for.
Everything we’d been prepared to bargain for.
A small, spiny creature glared at us from a rocky outcropping, its numerous spikes quivering with indignation at our intrusion.
For some reason, I found this hilarious.
A giggle escaped me, followed by another.
“Something amusing?” Lairos asked, glancing back at me with one raised eyebrow.
“That urchin,” I pointed, giggling harder.
The sound of my own laughter echoed strangely in the bubble.
I couldn’t stop.
“He looks so... so grumpy.”
Lairos stopped swimming abruptly, spinning to face me.
His expression shifted from confusion to alarm.
He cupped my face between his palms, studying me intently.
“Your air is too thin,” he said, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.
“You need more.”
My brain felt fuzzy and disconnected.
I recognized the symptoms of oxygen deprivation with the detached interest of someone watching it happen to someone else.
“Oh,” I managed.
“That’s... not good.”
Lairos pulled me closer, his face a breath away from mine.
His mouth opened slightly, and that vibration—that impossible song—intensified.
I felt it against my lips, tingling and electric.
Air bubbled between us, fresh and clean, flowing into my bubble.
Not quite a kiss.
Definitely not a kiss.
But the intimacy of it hit me harder than the oxygen.
His hands still cradled my face, his eyes locked with mine as he literally breathed life into me.
The gold ring around his green iris seemed to pulse with the rhythm of his song.
My head cleared with each breath, bringing with it a sharp awareness of our position.
Of his body against mine.
Of the strange heat building where his hands touched my skin.
“What happened?” I asked when my thoughts organized enough for words.
“On the surface. The explosions?—”
“Stop talking,” he ordered, still feeding air into my bubble.
“You’re wasting what I’m giving you.”
“I need to know if my people?—”
“I don’t know what happened. I was busy saving your life.” His jaw tightened.
“Now quiet. We need to keep moving.”
The frustration in his voice wasn’t directed at me, I realized.
He hated not knowing.
A king without information was vulnerable, and Lairos struck me as someone who never wanted to be vulnerable.
The briefings given to me and my crewmates had been thorough.
Or as thorough as could reasonably be expected of suspicious kings offering information on themselves and their people.
Names, brief histories, where they ruled and how many humans they’d be willing to accept.
Lairos was no exception.
Neither the oldest ruler or the longest to his throne, he was still every inch a king from the fairytales of my childhood.
Arrogant.
Irreverent.
What they hadn’t mentioned was how the play of muscles beneath his skin would be so hypnotic as he swam, or how his hair would float around his face like dark flames.
I forced myself to focus on our surroundings instead.
Rock formations loomed out of the gloom.
Schools of fish scattered at our approach.
A creature with too many eyes and not enough fins darted past, disappearing into a crevice.
Minutes passed in silence broken only by the strange clicks and calls of deep-sea creatures.
The air grew stale again.
I fumbled to tap Lairos’s shoulder, trying not to notice how the scales there felt smooth and warm under my fingertips.
He turned immediately, taking one look at me before his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned.
His tail moved in a slow, controlled pattern, keeping us suspended in the current while his hands found my face again.
His mouth hovered near mine, that strange vibration humming between us.
The not-quite-kiss lasted longer this time, his thumbs tracing small circles against my cheeks as fresh air filled my bubble.
I focused on steadying my breathing, refusing to acknowledge the warmth spreading through me despite the cold depths surrounding us.
“Where are we going?” I asked when I could breathe properly again.
He made an exasperated sound.
“You humans never stop talking, do you? We’re heading to the closest drycave in my kingdom.”
I tried to recall the details.
Delovia Ridge was an underwater mountain range, that much I knew.
That much I could see , with jagged peaks fighting for the surface in the murky distance.
But distance from the summit, entrances, ease of access to breathable air and solid ground under my feet?
“How far?”
“Far enough that you should stop delaying us with questions.” His voice softened slightly.
“We will discuss everything when we get there, I swear.”
I wanted to argue, but he was right.
Every moment spent talking was a moment not spent swimming toward safety.
I nodded, and he resumed our journey.
We swam for what felt like hours, stopping periodically for my air refreshes.
He knew exactly when I needed air, turning to me with fluid grace before I could signal.
Swim, pause, breathe, repeat.
My world narrowed to this pattern, to the gentle press of his hands against my face, to the way my pulse quickened each time he drew me close to share his breath.
Finally, a dark opening appeared in the rock face ahead.
Lairos swam straight for it without hesitation.
My body seized as years of cave diving accident reports and recovery statistics crowded my head.
At least in open water you could swim up, assuming you survived the bends.
In caves, one wrong turn meant a death wedged in the dark.
Just when my lungs began to burn again, we broke through the surface of the water into an air-filled cavern.
I gasped, inhaling real air for the first time since the attack.
The drycave, as Lairos had called it, was roughly circular, with smooth walls rising to a domed ceiling.
Glowing crystals embedded in the rock provided soft, amber-tinged light.
I hauled myself onto the stone ledge and collapsed onto my back.
Every muscle in my body ached despite Lairos doing most of the work.
The physical toll of oxygen deprivation, adrenaline, and fighting the water’s resistance left me feeling like I’d run a marathon in full tactical gear.
I closed my eyes for just a moment, gathering my strength.
“My communicator isn’t working,” I said, touching the device at my wrist.
Had my crewmates made it into the water with their assigned kings?
Were they trapped on the beach, or worse?
“I need to contact the Legacy. Make sure they’re safe. The protestors?—”
“You think this was just protestors?” Lairos’s laugh held no humor as water streamed from his body, scales melting away as he got to his feet.
“Those were organized attacks. Military-grade weapons. Someone wanted all of us dead—you, me, every ruler on that beach.”
He offered his hand, and I shouldn’t have noticed the way water traced the curves of his muscled forearm, or how it dripped from those broad shoulders where long dark red hair clung to his skin.
I shouldn’t have followed the rivulets down the dips and planes of his chest and abs.
And I definitely shouldn’t have noticed how the wet linen around his waist clung to powerful thighs before falling in heavy folds to his ankles, or how the scales along his hips caught the amber light as they slowly melted away.
I swallowed hard and tore my eyes away.
“Exactly why I need to reach my ship.”
Still, I slid my hand into his and let him pull me to my feet.
The motion brought us chest to chest, my palm pressed against warm, wet skin.
“And you will.” He traced my lower lip with his thumb, the gesture stealing my focus from thoughts of my missing crewmates.
“When we’re safe. When I know who’s hunting us. Until then, you’re staying with me.”
“I’m not yours to command,” I snapped, taking a deliberate step back.
The cold air hit my wet skin and clinging uniform like a slap, but it was better than the dangerous heat of being pressed against him.
His eyes flashed.
“No? Then by all means, swim back to the surface. I’m sure whoever’s waiting there will be delighted to find one human survived.”
I bit back a retort.
He was right, damn him.
I had no idea what was happening above, no way to contact my crew, and no means to survive these depths without him.
“Fine,” I conceded.
“Lead on, Your Majesty.”
His mouth curved in a smirk that should have infuriated me but instead sent a completely inappropriate shiver down my spine.
“So, you can take orders. Good to know.”
The scuff of a step from a shadowed tunnel shattered our standoff.
Two guards emerged, both wearing the same black and silver uniforms I’d seen at the Khadian tent.
Surprise flickered across their faces before their features hardened into something lethal.
“Traitor!” one shouted, lunging forward.
Everything happened too fast.
One moment Lairos was shoving me behind him; the next, he’d slipped beneath the guard’s arm.
A blade flashed—his or the guard’s, I couldn’t tell—and a spray of dark liquid arced through the air.
The guard dropped, clutching his throat as blood pulsed between his fingers.
The second guard hesitated, then thrust his spear at Lairos’s chest.
The king met him head-on, their bodies twisting in a deadly dance.
The guard’s blade caught Lairos’s arm, drawing a line of red, but Lairos didn’t slow.
He drove his knife up under the guard’s ribs, and made a savage twist.
The guard’s eyes widened in shock.
Lairos yanked the knife free, his expression cold and remote.
Nothing remained of the playful, flirtatious king from the beach.
This was a predator in his element, efficient and merciless as he kicked the bodies into the water.
Lairos turned back to me.
Blood stained the stone at our feet, but he seemed unbothered as he stripped the guard of his arm sheath and claimed the still-pulsing blade as his own.
“We need to move,” he said, as if he hadn’t just killed two men in front of me.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t think.
The bodies—the blood?—
“Emme.” His tone softened slightly.
“Please. We need to leave before more come.”
My legs shook as I backed away from the blood-slicked edge, keeping as much distance as possible between myself and the carnage.
“You killed them,” I said, the words hollow in my ears.
“They were traitors,” he said, finally turning to face me.
Blood splattered his chest and arms, but his expression remained calm.
Almost bored.
“They attacked their king. The punishment for treason is death.”
“So, you just killed them? Without a trial?” My voice rose with each word.
“Where I come from, we have this thing called justice. Evidence. Innocent until proven guilty.”
“Where you come from is gone.” His voice hardened.
“Here, my word is law. My judgment is final.”
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with my wet clothes.
“Will you do the same to me if I displease you? Slit my throat without a second thought?”
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe even hurt.
“No.”
“Why not? What makes me different from them?”
He closed the distance between us in three long strides.
I held my ground despite every instinct screaming to back away.
He cocked his head, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
“Can you not hear it?” he asked softly.
My heart tried to pound its way out of my chest.
“Hear what?”
Before he could answer, footsteps echoed from the tunnel.
Another guard appeared, wearing the same black and silver uniform.
He froze at the sight of us, eyes widening at the bloody stone and ripples in the water where the bodies had disappeared.
“My king,” he stammered, dropping to one knee.
His hand trembled on the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it.
Lairos stepped in front of me, his posture deceptively relaxed.
“Explain yourself.”
“Please, my king,” the guard’s voice cracked with emotion.
“By order of the Knights?—”
“What orders?” Lairos demanded.
“They’re watching all the drycaves. They’ve already taken control of the outer atolls.” His eyes darted to me, then back to Lairos.
“Please understand. You need to leave now.”
The guard’s voice wavered between loyalty and terror, telling me more about the political situation than any mission briefing could have.
This wasn’t just an attack on a diplomatic summit.
This was a coordinated effort against Lairos himself.
“Who gave these orders?” Lairos asked, his voice dangerously soft.
“The Knights’ High Commander. He says...” The guard swallowed hard.
“He says you’ve betrayed our people by bringing the humans here.”
Lairos went very still.
“And my brother? Where does Prince Nedaris stand in all this?”
“I don’t know, my king. Truly.” The guard glanced nervously over his shoulder.
“My daughter was just born last moon. I can’t... Please, my king. You must go.”
Lairos nodded once, then turned to me.
“Back in the water. Now.”
“But—”
“Now, Emme.”
I slid back into the water, the cold shocking after the warmth of the drycave.
Lairos followed, his transformation instant and fluid compared to my graceless entry.
His entire body hummed with contained violence, like the moment before lightning strikes.
Even his song felt different as he created my air bubble.
Harder, more controlled.
The water churned with too many questions I couldn’t voice.
Who were these Knights?
What did his brother have to do with any of this?
But as Lairos pulled me deeper into the darkness, his jaw clenched and his eyes scanning the shadows, I realized we weren’t swimming to safety anymore.
We were running for our lives.