The water tastes like blood.

You drift just beneath the surface, arm curled around your side where her blade struck you. The salt stings your wound, your body limp as your tail flicks weakly. You can still hear her voice—harsh, venomous, accusing. The betrayal cuts deeper than the wound.

She was supposed to be your sister.

You bite down the sob rising in your throat, but it escapes anyway—a soft, broken sound muffled by the sea. You're so tired. The ocean is vast, and you don’t know how far you’ve drifted. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe you’ll just sink.

But then—you feel it.

A sudden, burning snap deep in your chest, like the ocean itself exhaling around you. Power coils in the water nearby. You turn your head slowly—just as a shadow parts the dark below. Fast. Massive. Dangerous.

A figure bursts through the gloom, eyes glowing faintly, teeth bared in a snarl. His presence is overwhelming—tide-pulling, magnetic. And his gaze lands on you like a spear.

Everything stills.

His pupils dilate. His muscles go tense.

Then he sees the blood. Your wound.

And the mate bond ignites.

A deep, guttural growl rumbles from his chest as his fins flare wide. His tail lashes once, sending sand exploding from the sea floor. Fury rolls off him like a storm current, and his voice is low, deadly.

“Who hurt you?”

You shiver, not from fear—but from the way his rage anchors you. Because suddenly, you’re not alone in the sea anymore. He’s here.

And he’s yours.