Ano.
"Speak again," he commanded, gesturing with one elegant hand. "Let me hear that fabled Siren voice, before it goes silent once more."
It recoiled, fins fluttering as it tried to snag a current that wasn't there.
Reacting to his threat.
"I… I didn't ask for this," the Siren whispered, each word delicate, musical.
The sound slid through him, unbidden, unwelcome, and yet... fascinating. Utterly so. Irritation lifted his scales, making him bristle and shiver as the sound rippled through the current.
Mastering himself, Thalos forced his scales flat, and said, “Fewaskfor corruption. But that is what you are. A catastrophe waiting to happen."
The Siren's eyes widened, anger replacing fear. Her body trembled, scales catching light that shouldn't exist in these depths.
"I am a prisoner," she breathed, each word sending ripples through the current between them. And then, keening high at the back of her throat, "W-what's happening? Why can't I move?"
Thalos circled her again, admiring the strange form, how the water bent and twisted to keep her suspended.
At his disposal.
Even incomplete, her transformation carried a terrible, wretched beauty.
"The first trial begins soon," he replied at length, voice cool and measured. "The Gauntlet of Tides." Lifting his fingers, hegestured at the current swirling all around them—invisible walls of water and pressure that would soon become their battlefield. "A race. The first to reach you—to touch you—wins this trial."
Her gills fluttered faster, panic evident in those unsettling eyes. "A-and what does the winner gain?"
Absent any whisper of warmth, Thalos smiled. "WhenItouch you," he said, letting his claws pierce the wall of liquid swirling next to her body. "It will become my chore to breed you. To fit as much seed as may fit inside that monstrous little body."
Her throat worked. A shudder ran through her, answered in the flicker of her biolume shining with a weak pulse that spelled out the exact nature of her horror. “N-no?—”
“Oh, yes," Thalos said, voice soft with false compassion. "Repugnant, isn't it? I assure you, breeding a half-formed creature holds no appeal for me either."
His fingers drifted closer, not quite touching her trembling form. A muscle ticked in his jaw as her scent drifted between them—intoxicating, despite his disgust.
"But… then… dutyrarelyconcerns itself with desire. This... chore serves a greater purpose."
He circled behind her, letting his tail brush the edge of her current.
The Siren flinched, a delicious ripple of fear that made his scales lift with anticipation.
Again.
"Nyxarion will watch," Thalos hummed, voice dropping to a velvet murmur. "The exile will be forced to witness as I fill you with my seed. As I claim what he believes to be his."
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in horror.
"The Spiral demands it," Thalos added simply, spreading his hands in a gesture of elegant resignation. "And I am nothing if not obedient to the law."
His gaze drifted over her altered form, taking in the awkward hybridity, the scales that shimmered with Abyssari light. Whatever she had been before, she was Nyxarion's doom now.
The creature's fear perfumed the water around them, turning Thalos' disgust into something more complex, more primal. Her refusal came as soft bubbles from those delicate gills—a sound that shouldn't have pleased him so deeply.
Yet it did.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I… I won't let you?—"
"You misunderstand, my little abomination." Thalos drifted closer, letting the current caress her skin without quite touching her himself. "Your permission is irrelevant. Your bodybelongsto the victor. For the sweep of one full tide.”
