A tremor rippled down his spine, then.
And with a flick of his tail, mighty fluke heaving water aside, he left Sera and her preposterous logic behind.
He wouldn't give up Kore.
He'd promised.
To shield her.
Protect her.
The very idea of watching Thalos sink his perfect, porcelain cock into Kore sent a fission of possessive rage rippling through his scales.
Surging to the surface, gaining speed as he raced to reclaim his bride, Nyxarion bristled.
Thalos could gloat. Sing his paltry little songs as he sunbathed on the beach. But if he touched her…
He breached the surface with a snarl of rage. Surging onto the beach at high tide, taking the exact same path he'd used before, to breed Kore. To change her into his most precious treasure.
Tail coiling in the water, dragging himself up beside Kore, opposite Thalos, he assumed his position.
Blistering air scorched his throat. Raking his gills with an acidic fire worse than even the most caustic layer of the Black Sea, and his gills slits clamped shut. Trying to seal against the worst of it.
Knowing the sun would rise.
That he would bake, his scales would burn and flake. His skin would blister and bubble.
And Kore…
She knelt.
Trembling. Her gills splayed wide, fluttering on every brutal breath she dragged between her lips. Jaws sagging open. Sweat beaded across her brow as she heaved for breath, desperate to filter water that wasn't there.
Her body screamed for the sea.
Lounging, silver fins flicking where he lay, sleek and perfect on the golden beach, Thalos stretched in the sand.
And he smiled.
Showing teeth.
"Does it hurt, little flame?" he purred, lifting his spines to catch the moonlight. Speaking clearly, effortlessly, as if he didn't need the water in his gills like Nyx did. “My, how quickly your body forgot the land, hmm?”
Defiant, her eyes flicked up, watching him from beneath a fan of lashes. A hitching breath caught in her throat.
"Breathe," Nyxarion rasped, too harsh. Claws flexing against the sand as the words scraped over his gills. "Just… breathe."
Her eyes flicked to him. Wide. Panicked. Clinging when they landed on his face.
Nodding, he said, "That's it. Just… slow," he murmured. Voice a quiet hum when he forced his tone to steady. "I see you," he added, flexing his fluke. "Your suffering."
The beautiful pulse of her biolume shimmered before him, fragile and weak, and her breath came in short gasps. Gill slits pulsing red.
"You're stronger," he gasped with the last of his voice, "than this. Thanhim."
Low and sinister, Thalos laughed. "If only that were true," he crooned, stretching. Languid. Utterly at ease as he watched. "If it were—and it's not—then your mongrel bride might outlast the sun itself. Alas," he sighed. "You have stolen that option from her."
Hands pressed flat to the sand, collapsing in on herself, Kore's chest rose. Her nipples glittering in the moonlight where her scales sparkled.
