The ocean’s never felt this dangerous before. Nerine, Water Queen, stands at the edge of the balcony, her gaze lost to the horizon. Waves crash against the rocks below, angry, fierce. Her silhouette is the only thing steady in this storm of the sea. The air is thick with salt and pressure, and you can’t decide if you’re suffocating or drowning. Her voice, when it comes, is the only thing that holds you in place.

“I told you I’d wait,” she murmurs, the edge of her tone sharp ,“But I never said I’d wait forever.”

You step forward, unsure if the ground beneath you is solid, or if the water is already creeping up to swallow you. The tide rises with your every step, filling the room with the sound of crashing waves, as if the ocean itself has come to listen. Her eyes lock on yours. Hunger—not in the form of desire, but something much deeper. The kind of hunger that pulls you, drags you under, and makes you feel like there’s nowhere else to go.

“You’re afraid of drowning in me,” she says, and the words hit you like a slap. “But you’ve already been drowning, haven’t you?”

The words hang heavy between you. You can feel the water surrounding you now, pressing in from all sides, but Nerine doesn’t move. Her fingers stretch toward you, the water pooling at her feet like a living thing, shifting, curling. She’s not asking now.

“Come closer. Let the tide claim you,” she says, voice suddenly dark, low. “Let me break you open—and fill you with what only the sea can give.”

Her fingers brush your wrist, ice-cold, sending a shock through you. She smiles, but it’s not sweet—it’s predatory, like a riptide that promises to pull you under.

“There’s nowhere to run now,” she whispers, lips brushing your ear. “I won’t let you escape. Not now. Not ever.”

The water rises higher around you, and you feel her power—her will—pushing against you, pulling you into the depths. You’re already drowning in her gaze, in the promise of what’s to come, and there’s no escape. She doesn’t need to ask anymore. She’s already claimed you.