"Sloppyandslow?" The Shallow King laughed. "My Siren deserves much better thanthis,don't you think? Don't worry," he murmured and opened yet another wound across Nyx's lower back. "I'll make sure she's well kept. That she's put to use for the Hollow Court."
Lunging, Nyxarion's tail whipped through the gloom, trying to catch Thalos in a desperate bid for dominance.
Pivoting, Thalos answered with a cutting, sleek denial. Making Nyx pay in another bloom of crimson and gore.
Small wounds. Meaningless alone. But layered, one upon the next?
Nyxarion was flagging. Damage accumulating with every strike. Hovering just out of reach. Gleaming silver, mocking when he crooned, "Tending a Siren requires discipline, Korrides. Technique," Thalos added, grinning now. Drunk on the scent of blood hanging thick and metallic in the water. "Patience and skill. A firm hand you just do not possess. Because you're trench-filth. Nothing more."
It was then, as Nyxarion heaved for breath. Bleeding freely from too many wounds to count, that Serakh's warning echoed through the roar of rage pounding at the back of his skull.
Overconfidence.
It might've been his own downfall if he hadn't recognized the very same scent dripping from Thalos' every smug angle.
Nyx didn't blink. Didn't pause to calculate or plan. Tail a heavy whip, he launched himself through the current. Claws a wicked flash of deadly intent.
Dodging, Thalos swept down.
And Nyx's fist caught him. Clean in the ribs.
The crack of splintering bone was nauseating.
That perfect Thalassari symmetry folded as ichor burst from his lips. The impact of raw strength drove him back. Up, toward the surface.
It was Nyxarion's turn to attack, and he didn't squander the moment.
Refusing the other even an instant to recover, Nyx unleashed a flurry of trench-born wrath. Absent precision. Technique. It was pure, overwhelming violence that stained the mid-ground crimson. Peeling away silver scales until the water glittered. Until he felt ribs give under the assault.
This.
Thiswas what was needed to claim his precious Siren.
The true price.
Trying to slip free, Thalos twisted, bound fins straining to flare.
But when his face contorted, he wasn't wearing the look of suffering Nyxarion had bestowed.
It was a wicked, unhinged smile.
Nyx didn't see the strike flash through his blindspot until it was much, much too late.
Two fingers tipped in wicked claws slashed against Nyxarion's gill slits.
Deep.
His world inverted. Water flooded his lungs without being filtered by his gills. Crushing delicate tissue.
Vision flashing white, Nyxarion's biolume dimmed. Flickering a frantic, devastated pulse. His color a throb of blue tinged with desperate red.
And he slipped back. Muscles locked. Stunned. Floating in the dark waters, he sank. Tail limp. Claws grasping at the slashes bisecting his gills.
Grinning in the bloodied water, Thalos hung motionless above him. Watching him sink.
The only thing Nyx heard before his consciousness slipped… was the haunting melody of a Siren's scream…
CHAPTER 21
