Elegant limbs flashed in his mind. Shattered bone wrapped in fragile flesh.
Heat coiled in muscles starved of oxygen, forcing him to ascend. Unable to resist the carnal pull he felt to return to the surface.
And now, there was time to indulge, for the trench had been sown. Tender roots threaded through the darkness needed time to incubate and spread.
Time he would use to initiate his bride with another dose. Feed her careful, measured sips of venom, a little at time, even as he obliterated her womb and prepared her for whatheneeded. Pumping her full of sperm until she was ready to take all of him.
All without repeating the mistakes of the past.
Denying himself the ecstasy of truly claiming her, for he would never be able to truly breed a human.
No, the knot at the base of his cock was meant to secure a mate, to hold his chosen female in place as they drifted through the current for long hours. An anchor set in place meant as a water-tight seal that would allow his seed to move deep enough that the sea could not simply wash it away.
No, he couldn’t breed a human.
But a Siren?
A Siren was meant to take all of him.
It would be a delicate balance. One slip, one moment of hazy control, and he would ruin her.
Propelling himself forward, the exiled prince left the fledgling reef behind. The waters grew warmer as he swam through the layers of this poisoned chalice. And his gills flushed vibrant red as he ascended too fast, blood fizzing with tiny, agonizing bubbles as he struggled to draw a single breath not laced with brutal acid.
Breaking through the ceiling of that final lethal layer, he emerged into the shallows and drew water over his gills that sent relief immediately bleeding through his system.
Reeling from the punishment, he paused in the rich, warm water until the ache subsided.
But the pain had only sharpened his resolve.
Reminded him of what was at stake.
Even now, he could smell her. His bride. Both foreign and intoxicating, hers was a scent that called to him to do heinous, wicked things. Vile acts that would have risked banishment from his father’s court.
But of course…
He was alone.
Unbound by the laws of the open-water king who’d condemned the trench-born to a long, slow death. Unmoored, he’d been freed from the judgment of those who’d rather wither in obscurity than fight theThalassariking.
There was none who might block him.
Not a soul who could stop what he would unleash upon that dainty, fragile female marooned in the middle of an uninhabited ocean.
Here, in the Black Sea, Nyxarion Korrides was the law.
And he would have his bride, in whichever manner he chose.
Settling in the surf, still partially submerged, he allowed himself to pause. Recuperate. Flushing the brine from his gills, he blocked the only exit.
And smiled.
It was almost time to begin.
CHAPTER 6
One cheek soaking in a shallow tidal pool, her lips caressed by the salt of this unknown sea, Kore whined. A keening moan of pain that broke through the dregs of fitful sleep. Anguish that radiated out from a broken heart, only to throb in a shattered body.
Bruises bloomed across pale, water-logged flesh. Trauma so violent, it had left her legs speckled in a mosaic of molted black and green. Etched with shades of vibrant purple and speckled with a sickly shade of yellow.
