Kaerius
The journey to the surface was slow and deliberate, unlike the wild ride I’d taken a moment before I started our ascent.
I had to time this carefully so her more fragile body could properly adjust to the changing water pressures.
The water shimmered around us as I kept Samantha close, my hand firm on the small of her back.
She moved well in the water now, better than before, but she was still human—fragile in a way I refused to forget.
Bruinen and Aenon flanked us, ever watchful.
She needed to make contact with her ship to reach the humans above and see if they held the Atara fuel we so desperately required.
The Shadefin multiplied too fast, spreading like sickness in the currents.
If we did not find a way to stop them, my people would drown in the darkness of their infestation.
And after us, the rest of Sanos would quickly be swallowed too.
As we neared the surface, a ripple in the water signaled another’s approach: Firia.
Her pale green hair was loose from its usual bindings, flowing like tangled kelp around her face.
Her chest rose and fell too quickly, her gills flaring in distress.
She had come in haste, and she did not follow her normal strict adherence to protocol when she addressed me.
“Kaerius.” She spoke my name on a ragged breath, eyes darting to Samantha, then back to me.
“You must return at once.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“What is it?” To see the female Ondrithar so disheveled was not right; Firia was always neat as a pin.
She and I did not often see eye to eye—she was a strict bureaucrat and rule-follower—but I did respect her.
Unlike the pair of scum I’d ordered captured yesterday for what they had attempted to do to my mate.
Firia hesitated, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.
“Advisor Vekesh is stirring dissent. He claims Morven is not dead.” Silence rang between us.
Aenon let out a sharp exhale, his tail flicking in agitation.
Bruinen shifted beside me, his muscles coiling.
Her words had rained down on us like a blow, stirring old wounds, old worries, and questions that I’d uttered only in the dead of night.
“Impossible,” I growled.
“I saw the beast take him.” It had been two cycles since the incident.
I had scoured every inch of the cliff and the trenches where it happened, searching for any sign of my brother—the male who should be king in my stead if he were still alive.
I had never wanted the throne, but I had been his only companion during that fatal Shadefin attack.
I escaped with my life, and Morven vanished without a trace.
I knew what they whispered—that I had led him to his death, that I had murdered my own brother.
Against my chest, Samantha stroked her fingers along my scales, reminding me that she was with me—that she had accepted our mating.
It settled the roiling discontent beneath my skin, but it still ached when the Ondrithar councilwoman spoke again.
“He claims there is no body,” Firia pressed, her voice urgent.
“And without a body—”
“He seeks to challenge my right to rule,” I finished her thought, my mind sharpening with fury.
So that was the next play.
I had known that there would be resistance from all sides the moment my claim on Samantha became evident.
But this…
this felt like a low blow.
Aenon bared his teeth—loyal to a fault, even if he was stubborn and a little short-sighted at times.
“Vekesh has always been a coward. If Morven lived, he would have returned. He would not have abandoned his throne.” And that was the truth; I knew it in my heart.
Morven was a good, responsible male—he would never abandon the Ondrithar when we were facing the beginning stirrings of the Shadefin threat.
He had to be dead, and even though there was no body, I had insisted on a full state funeral to honor him.
Firia shook her head.
“It does not matter what is true, only what people believe.” Those rumors—they had persisted, even after I’d proven myself to be a good leader, a good king.
I thought I’d weeded out the rotten seeds among Morven’s council, but it seemed that I was mistaken.
Vekesh was power-hungry, and he was seeing an opportunity to make his move.
I clenched my jaw, forcing my rage down.
“We do this first,” I said, nodding toward Samantha.
“Then we return.” Samantha looked between us, clearly understanding that whatever Firia had said was of great importance, but she did not interrupt.
Behind her eyes, I knew, her shrewd brain was spinning rapidly as she pieced together what was going on.
I’d explain it all to her when I had her alone, but for now, we needed to hurry.
We broke the surface, the sky stretching vast and endless above—a pale, endless blue that looked flat and boring to my eyes, so adjusted to always seeing the water.
Samantha’s fingers immediately went to the device at her wrist, wasting no time.
She pressed at its interface, brows furrowing, lights blinking urgently.
A moment passed.
Then another.
Her breath came sharp, frustrated.
“It’s not responding.” She raised her eyes to my face; they were big and worried, their brown soft as velvet.
Bruinen turned his gaze to me.
“We should go.” I cupped my mate’s face, stroking her chin in reassurance, then dared to press a kiss to the crown of her silky hair.
She tasted of salt, like the ocean I so loved.
Despite the impatient words of my head guard, she tried again, her jaw tightening, but it was useless.
The device remained stubbornly silent—it was either broken or something was blocking its signal.
I’d have to find one of the rare ship engineers and beg a moment of their time to look at the device.
It was imperative that we fix it so we could talk to her ship.
“We go,” I said, tightening my arms around her slender waist in preparation for the dive.
She didn’t resist when I pulled her back into the depths.
Anxious energy pounded through my veins as we began the swim back.
Firia looked even more frazzled than before, as if she’d been pulling on her long hair with impatience.
The thought struck me that it could be her leading me into a trap, but I doubted that.
Firia tended to get a little single-minded and obnoxious, but she was a straight arrow.
We had barely begun our descent when the shadows moved.
The first Shadefin struck from the side, a blur of dark tendrils and glistening teeth.
Aenon snarled, darting forward with his blade.
Bruinen spun, catching another before it could strike from above.
More came, surrounding us like a tide of nightmares.
I kept Samantha behind me, my trident spinning as I drove it into the nearest creature.
Their screeches vibrated through the water, a sound that sent instinctual rage through my blood.
I fought, my movements swift and brutal, but we were outnumbered.
Bruinen shouted something, but my focus splintered when I felt Samantha jolt against me.
A Shadefin had reached for her.
I tore through it with a single strike, its body ripping apart in a cloud of dark ichor.
But it was too late.
Thin, glimmering streaks of spores marred her arm, faint against her pale skin.
My stomach dropped.
“No,” Firia breathed, horror in her voice.
Bruinen was already moving, grabbing Samantha’s wrist as if to inspect the damage.
His grip was too tight, his gills flaring.
“She’s infected,” he said—the words I dreaded to hear, that I wished were never spoken.
They were the fear of any harvester, any family member of those who braved the far reaches to supply us with what we needed to keep power on inside the palace and the town.
Samantha looked down at herself, confusion flickering across her features.
“What—” She reached out with a hand, curiosity rather than fear in her eyes, intending to touch the pretty bioluminescent marks that now marred her skin.
The Shadefin attack had ended the moment she’d been infected, as if these evil, ever-breeding, and multiplying monsters had planned this.
Such tactics should have been beyond them, but the clever withdrawal despite their upper hand made my senses tingle.
“Do not touch them,” I snapped, grabbing her shoulders.
My hands burned with the urge to wipe them away, to take away the filth that now marked her.
But to do so would be to infect myself, and it would not help her.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest as I considered our only method of treatment.
How far up had the spores spread?
How much did she have to lose?
She met my gaze, unafraid but uncertain.
“What does this mean?” I did not answer.
I would never be able to get such words across my lips.
Someone else would have to take the lead for once, be the bearer of bad news.
I had sworn to protect her, sworn she was mine to cherish, and I had failed her.
The weight of that failure was almost as bad as the fear of losing her.
I pulled her to me, gripping her tightly as I propelled us downward.
“We get back. Now.” The others didn’t argue, though Bruinen, the male brave enough to quietly explain the danger of the spores to my mate, spoke with a tone heavy with remorse.
And Aenon, my hot-headed friend, who not long ago had seemed so opposed to my connection with an outsider, hung his head and fought to keep his composure as we swam.
When Samantha let out a horrified gasp as Bruinen came to the part about treatment, my heart clenched in my chest.
“I’m so sorry, my brave mate. I should have protected you from this.” Panic made my tail ache as I propelled us ever faster down to the palace and its medical center.
The spores had climbed to her elbow, spreading and multiplying.
We did not have long.
If it spread much further, it would be a death sentence.