Mindlessly, Kore’s fingers drifted between her thighs.
Subtle.
Desperate.
The ache had been muted in the horror of Thalos’ challenge.
But it had returned with a fury Kore had never known.
Need.
It blistered through her veins. Scalding every nerve with the drive to seek out her monster, and beg him to breed her. To pump her belly full to bursting, and seal it all inside with a knot.
Flames of liquid heat spread through her belly, tracing the hollow between her hips, where she needed Nyxarion to attend to the pain he’d caused.
Electric blue threads of light pulsed at her throat, broadcasting her need in bioluminescent bursts that defied her control.
A tiny burp of sound escaped her, then.
Nerissa’s ancient, fathomless eyes flicked open.
“Child.”
It was a reprimand dressed in exhaustion. The Tide Mother’s gills flared wide, drinking oxygen straight from the Raskoril’s dense clusters. Chest heaving with effort, but still, she reached for Kore’s hand. Drawing her touch away.
“It hurts,” Nerissa murmured, “I know.” Shifting in the cradle, the Tide Mother drew both of Kore’s hands into hers. “You need him. Nyxarion.”
Nodding, Kore sobbed.
“He cannot come,” Nerissa murmured, brushing away the cloud of hair floating around Kore’s face. “I’m sorry, child. But it is forbidden. Neither suitor nor challenger may touch the bride.”
Each syllable slashed at Kore’s restraint. Landing with the sort of weight that drove her toward hysterics.
“The Spiral forbids contact,” Nerissa explained, her voice growing stronger. “Until the first trial is won, neither may touch you. You are under my care alone.”
Shaking her head, Kore tried to plead. To beg and bargain. Fins flaring, churning a mild current as the panic took hold.
Nerissa’s smile grew ripe with pity. “If Nyxarion violates the covenant of Spiral law, and touches you outside of the trials? Thalos wins by default. You would be given to my Sovereign immediately.”
Recoiling, Kore kicked at the seabed. Sending a cascade of silt and blue fire pulsing through the dark. Her own colors flicking with the evidence of her distress.
She was to suffer, then. Endlessly.
Or die.
If she got the relief her body screamed for, Thalos would give her the sort of respite that came wrapped in a blade.
Vision growing blurry, Kore curled around herself. As if reacting to what she couldn’t have, the ache bloomed into something monstrous.
Trembling, lips parting as she tried to ask for more—an explanation, help,anythingat all that might ease her pain. But there was only misery.
Extending her delicate hand, Nerissa bade her come closer. Long silver hair a shroud in the light, she said, “Come, child. You are trembling. Let me look and see what Nyxarion created.”
Cringing, Kore stepped closer. Toes squelching in the silt.
“Did he explain?” she asked, coaxing and gentle. “What he’s done to you?”
Kore shook her head, unable to do anything else. Sending her dark hair swirling in a slow whip.
