Gills gaping, flaring wide, a subsonic trill vibrated the water between them. Peppered with notes she couldn't interpret. Sounds and melodies that tasted like grief, that she could feel deep in her marrow. Question and plea tangled together.
The venom sang differently this time. Not the scorching demand that drove her to madness, but something that curled around her spine.
It was… fear.
Longing.
A sorrow that pooled in her chest, warm and aching, until tears pricked behind her eyes.
Nyxarion’s massive frame trembled as he purred for her, his resonance making the water heat and dance, while his other hand found her hip, claws barely grazing the fresh cuts Nerissa had made.
The touch declared what his alien voice couldn't—confusion, frustration at the chasm yawning between them.
When he withdrew the barb, Kore whimpered. Not from pain but from the absence of him. The venom pulsed through her, leaving her raw.
Aching.
A sound burbled between her lips.
The Tide Mother's voice cracked with the force of cracking ice. "Withdraw, or forfeit her to the Hollow Court now.”
Nyxarion's grip tightened, claws dimpling Kore's skin. For one suspended heartbeat, she thought he might defy the ancient law entirely. Claim her here, witnesses be damned.
But the reef pulsed—once, twice—and he released her. Vanishing into the black without a backward glance. Leaving only the electric tang of his fury.
Nerissa resumed her song, soothing Kore's pain. Those ancient vibrations wound through Kore's body, harmonising with the venom already singing in her veins.
The need sharpened, growing focused.
What had been a desperate ache became a bottomless hunger.
Her body knew what it wanted. What it had been denied.
Punishment.
Seed.
A knot.
The word echoed through her mind. Her slit clenched on nothing, empty and weeping, perfuming the current with the scent of slick. That the transformation had remade her for this singular purpose—to be filled, claimed, anchored.
Nerissa's fins spread wide, catching currents Kore couldn't feel. The song shifted, climbing octaves that made the coral shiver.
"Attend," the Tide Mother commanded again, but softer this time. Almost gentle.
Light bloomed in the darkness—pure, cold radiance that hurt to look at directly.
Breath coming in ragged bursts, Kore's gills strained for more.
The water shifted.
A ripple of movement, sleek and controlled. The Thalassari arrived with the elegance of a tide washing ashore, their fins sails of color and flame casting shifting patterns across the coral's face.
And at their center—him.
Thalos.
The Shallow King didn't rush to attend he. He drifted. As if the current itself bent to his will, parting before him in reverent surrender.
