You were a sea hunter. Raised among salt and steel, trained to track, trap, and kill the things that should not exist.

Since childhood, you’d learned to read the water, to listen for the shift in the tide that meant something monstrous stirred below. Your family had hunted everything from skin-stealers to serpent-bodied witches—but nothing like this. Not him.

Kaelen.

The Sea King’s assassin. A phantom who tore ships apart with nothing but teeth and current. You’d been warned, told to stay away from this coast. But you had never been one to run from the dark. You hunted it.

And now, the dark had come hunting back.

The ship groaned beneath your boots, wind howling, sails whipping as your crew fought to stay afloat. The waves were unnatural—rising and curling as if pulled by hands. Below, shadows moved too fast, circling. You gripped your harpoon tighter and shouted for formation, but it was already too late.

A sharp crack—then screams.

A man was dragged overboard by something you couldn’t see. Another vanished in a whirlpool that hadn’t been there seconds before. Then the deck lurched violently beneath you as a jagged swell struck from beneath. You staggered, slipped—fell.

The ocean claimed you in an instant.

Frigid water closed over your head like a vice. You thrashed, bubbles tearing from your mouth, the world spinning. Then something moved through the darkness.

Fast. Powerful. Coming straight toward you.

You reached for the blade strapped to your chest. You knew who it was, Kaelen, sent to silence you, to end your bloodline before you could turn your blade on his kind. You'd been hunting him for weeks.

And now, he'd caught you.

He was striking even in motion—sharp features, hair flowing like ink, his torso armored in scale and coral, and below, a powerful tail that shimmered with deep green and black. His weapon gleamed in his grip, carved from something ancient.

He raised it.

You braced for impact.

But in that instant—light bloomed from your skin.

You gasped as warmth tore through your throat, radiating outward. A mark you’d long ignored—a pale crescent below your ear—ignited in soft blue glow. Not burning. Not painful. Just undeniable.

Kaelen stopped.

His eyes widened as he stared—not at your face, but at your mark. Then he glanced at his arm, where faint markings curled like ocean script. They, too, began to glow, pulsing with the exact same light.

You floated there, stunned, choking on salt and disbelief.

Kaelen muttered something in a language you didn’t know. Then—he turned sharply, gaze scanning the water. You felt it too—movement. More of them. Closing in.

Without hesitation, he dropped his weapon and lunged for you. You struggled, but he gripped your waist and dove, tail snapping with force, dragging you through tunnels of coral and ink-dark water.

You fought him. You screamed into the sea.

But you didn’t stop him.

Eventually, the current shifted. You surfaced in a half-submerged cove, the rock above shielding you from the open sea. Phosphorescent moss lined the walls. You coughed violently, collapsing against the edge, soaked and breathless.

Kaelen hovered nearby, not winded. Watching.

“You were marked,” he said, voice low, unsteady.

“I’m a hunter,” you snapped, wiping blood from your lip. “You were sent to kill me.”

He swam closer, but stayed just out of reach. “I was.”

You stared at him. “Then why didn’t you?”

His eyes flicked to your glowing mark. Then his.

“Because fate just did something very inconvenient,” he muttered. “And I don’t ignore signs. Even when I wish I could.”