Petting her, singing until her breath steadied. Until her biolume dimmed, shifting from that frantic strobing to the slow, rhythmic pulse of peace.
Nyxarion's eyes drifted shut.
Allowing himself to take this moment with her. Alone.
Beneath his palms, her breathing grew liquid. Measured. Sedated by his mate song, pulling her away from the dread of the unknown. Nyxarion held her steady, one palm keeping her ear pressed against the slow thunder of his heart.
But as his bride grew tranquil against him, the muscle in his jaw flexed.
Sun clams.
That devious, insufferable bastard.
The image of her—taking those iridescent shells from Thalos' hand, sucking at the golden meat with a hunger she didn't understand—burned in his chest.
It was a message.
A test.
One she hadn't understood, but every Pelagorn present in his throne room had accepted in an instant.
Sun clams were a delicacy fed toVireliiin pregnancy. A helpless craving exclusive to Thalassari females.
The child had reached through Kore's blood and pulled her toward Thalassari nourishment with a blind, desperate need shecouldn't possibly understand. Fostered a hunger for minerals and proteins the Deep simply could not provide.
Claws prickling her scalp, Nyx's spines flicked. A brief flare of his temper.
It was brilliant.
The sort of manipulation only Thalos might devise. Devious and elegant. Cruel beyond measure.
And effective.
Because it had worked.
Because Nyxarion had watched her eat them. Listened to her moan around the succulent taste, and understood exactly what it meant.
Knew just what he had to do.
Petting her, increasing the volume of his song, Nyx brought a single barb forward. Thin and precise. Angled against the soft tissue inside her elbow, where veins ran closest to the surface.
His eyes stayed shut for one breath. Two. Clinging to this instant, as long as he could.
Silver irises flashed when his lids slid open.
His jaw bunched.
But he slipped his barb between her scales, pumping his toxin into her blood.
Kore's spine went rigid.
With a gasp, she flinched. Fingers curling against his chest. Beguiling grey-gold eyes snapped open. Pupils blown, she turned her gaze up. Searching his face for answers to a question she couldn't voice. "Nyx?—"
He hushed her, palm of his free hand stroking her back as he emptied his venom sac. "I know," he murmured, and let the song fall silent. "I know. It's almost over. Just a few more drops."
Already, a pretty flush was blooming in her cheeks. Staining her throat. Her scent growing ripe and thick in the water.
Slick.
