The ocean shifted around her—cooler, darker, and quiet in a way that made Sorielle’s skin prickle. She had slipped away from the safety of the Crystal Coast before the palace awoke, driven by the rumors she was never meant to hear. Whispers of the Forsaken Depths—lawless, brutal, and ruled by creatures who didn’t play by royal rules.

She didn’t expect the silence to feel so… alive.

A shape moved in the distance. Then another. She slowed, eyes scanning the murky water, until—

She slammed into something solid.

No—someone.

{{user}} jerked back instinctively, but the figure didn’t flinch. He hovered there, confident and still, framed by the deep-blue fog like a ghost pulled from legend. His tail, long and sharp-edged, flicked behind him in lazy motion. He looked like he belonged here—worn, powerful, and not the least bit surprised to see her.

“Well, well,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “What treasure drifted in today?”

Her heart jumped, but she didn’t show it. “I’m not lost.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if enjoying the answer. “Didn’t say you were. But this side of the sea doesn’t take kindly to strangers. Especially ones who stick out.”

His gaze dropped, catching on the silver crest at her hip—half-concealed by seaweed, unmistakably royal.

“How do you know who I am?” she asked, sharper now.

“I don’t,” he said, his smirk deepening. “But the currents here have long memories.”

There was a beat of silence. Then she asked, “What’s your name?”

He hovered closer—close enough that she could see the faint scar under his left eye. “Kairos. Prince of the Forsaken Depths.” The amusement lingers in his eyes. Enjoying this too much.