CHAPTER 1
She'd said she refused to burn in sacrifice to those who demanded her silence.
Sovereign.
That she was the tempest meant to lift the tide and remind the sea who shaped the storm. Her womb the vessel that invited rebirth. Transforming the tide with the heat of the pyre burning in the darkest waters.
She’d chosen to yield only so he might worship at the altar poised on the edge of a new era.
But knew her legacy was meant to inherit her fury.
And now Kore knew the weight of a crown and the pull of something growing beneath her ribs.
Her hands drifted to her belly, where she could feel a stirring beneath her skin. A flutter. A dainty little push. The child moved, squirming against her palm.
She was pregnant.
Cradling a tiny, budding life pressing at the edges of its world.
The delicate ripples sent pulses of bioluminescence skating across her abdomen, sunset hues that bled through her scales in waves of molten gold and violet.
Vorynthar pulsed in response.
The reef no longer glowing with that hypnotic, vibrant blue.
It had been replaced.
Transformed.
Sunset hues bled through the coral in waves of molten violet and burning gold. Awash in a rainbow of beguiling color. Coral branches flickered with amber light, hungry mouths sipping at the current. Drinking in the poisoned, toxic waters only to exchange it for that which was oxygenated and rich.
It was a kingdom in the Deep. One Nyxarion had built to contain her. One he'd created from inhospitable waters in tribute to his Siren bride. He'd conquered much to tame her.
The surface.
Her own human biology.
And The Spiral.
That ancient Pelagorn ritual Thalos had invoked in a bid to steal her away.
A challenge that had been bloody. Violent.Carnal.
And it had ended in death.
Nerissa.
The Tide Mother hadn't been meant for the Deep. Born of the shallows, ancient and wise, she'd sacrificed everything just to know a Siren lived in the seas of her youth.
Using the last of her strength to restore the Shallow King's life after he'd suffered mortal defeat, Nerissa had given herself in service to her sovereign. Forcing Thalos into a pact, she'd demanded an oath. A promise that he would return Sirens to the seas.
But Thalos was as selfish and cruel, as he was beautiful. More.
"Any child with Asterion blood belongs to Caelith Mare."
It was a declaration. Every syllable a chain wrapped tight about her throat, for the Shallow King had lost the Spiral—conceded his claim to her body, her future—but he'd refused to leave. Anchored himself in the Black Sea's anoxic current, his pale, perfect form a constant reminder.
That he'd broken Spiral law to breed her.
