take a breath and close my eyes. On cue, the crown of bones on my brow pushes forward like a fan of finely webbed coral. I center myself, feeling my core connect with the heart of Waterfell—and the beating hearts of all the Aquarathi within it—until we are one and the same. I am a daughter of the old kings and a mother of the new. Every living creature in this room is tied to me. I exhale, and the whispered breath ripples across the hall from body to body, heart to heart. I open my eyes—the glow in the room is almost blinding, a tumultuous kaleidoscope like the northern lights in Earth’s sky.
Echlios, my Handler and captain of my royal guard, moves forward to stand beside me, his body rigid. I can see the approval flashing in his bright silver eyes. He nods and arches his long neck, his dark red scales glittering, as he bares it to me in a gesture of submission. Golden-green lights shimmer down the length of my body, mirroring the deep ruby of his, and I click fiercely in my native tongue to my people, calling water-to-water and blood-to-blood.
My water is yours as yours is mine, I tell them, whispering the oaths I would have sworn to my father. Power ripples along my spine, making my golden colors flare so brightly that every finned head dips in deferent succession—gold to green to blue, and finally to red in a wave of reluctant molten crimson.
I must rule by strength now. Not just by love.
Trust is a luxury, and the time for compassion in Waterfell has come and gone. Ehmora planted dark seeds of doubt and confusion. If I don’t control my people, all of the humans will be at risk. And everything my father fought and died for will be for nothing. I can never let that happen, even more so now that I am bonded to a hybrid—a half-human, half-Aquarathi prince.
I arch my neck, my tail curling through the water...and freeze as a violent wave of pain crashes into me like a rogue tsunami, destroying everything in its path. Lo’s name reverberates like a hammer in my brain as if the sharp thought of him has summoned his consciousness to me in full force. My lights flutter and die. I can feel the startled pulses and the clicks of the courts, but I can’t focus on them.
All I know is Lo’s pain...a deep, shattering, all-consuming pain, as if a thousand blades are carving my body at once. The navy swirls on my flanks—Lo’s marks—deepen like ink, sinking into me with scorching pressure. Everything disappears and I feel only the pull of the bond...and the one on the other side of the bond...calling to me.
And in that moment, I know. The threat isn’t here.
It’s there.
In seconds, Echlios is glued to my side, the rest of his guards surrounding us in a protective circle. “My lady, what is it?”
“Lo,” I gasp. “Something’s wrong. He’s hurt.”
“I’ll go.”
“No,” I insist, nearly doubling over. “The coronation—”
“Can wait.”
I shake my head, feeling my ties to the Aquarathi start to fade. I swallow. “This is too important.”
Echlios nods, but I can see the uncertainty flicker across his face. Because of the bond with Lo, I am vulnerable, and if Lo is hurt, I can be, too. Echlios’s mate, Soren, joins us, her eyes flashing gold fire. As my Handler, she is so in tune with me that she has felt the fear I’m now trying desperately to conceal.
Her voice is gentle, as is the pale green tail fin circling me in a protective manner. “Breathe, Nerissa. Try deep calming breaths. It will help with the pain. Echlios will go. It is his duty to protect you...and the prince regent.”
I do as she says, letting the salt water enter through my gills and breathing out the sharp, pulsing pain until it becomes a dull throb. Nodding weakly to Echlios, I watch as Soren dismisses the courts that have come to pay their respects to the new queen. I don’t know what they’re saying, but I have to imagine that seeing their new ruler in an incapacitated state on the first day of her coronation has to be cause for concern. Still, that anxiety pales in comparison to the urge I feel to take off in a sprint for the mainland in response to the pull of the bond.
“I need a minute,” I pulse to Soren as another wave of dizziness overcomes me.
“Go. I’ll convene the High Council,” she says to me and then frowns, her eyes narrowing in concern. “Not too far, Nerissa.”
I nod and make my way out of the throne room and into the tunnels beyond. There are two silent black forms behind me—Nova and Nell—twins and two of my royal guard that I’m aching to get rid of. They’re young but fierce—Echlios thought our closeness in age would make me less uncomfortable with having permanent shadows glued to my every move. I didn’t mind, until now.
“Stay here,” I click to the twins at the tunnel’s exit. “I’m going to be right over there.”
I swim away from Waterfell with a few short, powerful strokes, but stay within watching distance of the two guards. Their forms are indistinct, cloudy shapes, which means they can still see me and that’s all that matters. I close my eyes and stay perfectly still, clearing my mind of everything but the feel of the water against my skin and the soft muted sounds of ocean life around me. I let the sea do what it does best—heal.
For a heartbeat, floating in a sea of space and nothing, it’s easy to imagine that I live in a world where everything is different. That my parents are alive and together. That my father is here to watch my coronation with pride. That the one who has my heart isn’t a million miles away...and that he hasn’t been hurt, or worse.
Lo...the prince regent. My mate.
We are bonded for life, bound by an unbreakable tie. We belong to each other in a way that only lovers can know. My gaze falls on the bands of navy shimmering through my golden-green scales—the marks of our bonding—and green bioluminescent lights tingle along my sides in automatic response. Fighting another wave of panic, I try to push the thought of him—and the thought of his blue-black eyes, so like the shadowy darkness of the ocean surrounding me—from my mind, but it’s like trying to separate my skin from my body. Every breath I inhale, he inhales with me. As if in response, the tug from before becomes more insistent, less painful now but still sharp. I can only hope that Echlios finds him safe.
Drifting deeper into the deep blue coldness, I don’t resist as the current drags my body with insistent force. I’m not afraid. I can handle the ocean at its worst, control it even, but I let it take me, enjoying the feel of not having to be strong for just a moment. I don’t care that I’ve lost sight of my two guards or that the dim lights of Waterfell have faded. There’s nothing around me but pitch-black murky gloom. I’m the deadliest predator out here, so it’s not like I have anything to fear—especially with Ehmora dead and her allies in hiding. Those Echlios hunted down either swore fealty to me or were executed.
Inexorably, my thoughts return to Lo, the son of the very one who tried to usurp my throne. Ehmora’s son. Sure, he killed her—for me—but our relationship is still delicate at best, and even at the core, a lifelong genetic bond wouldn’t be the only thing that would hold me to him. At first, being with Lo was an act of defiance and desperation on my part. I wanted to be close to someone, to forget for a while what I was and pretend to be a human girl. But that one moment cost me so much. I bonded myself to the son of my enemy.
“Planning to drift to China?”
The unexpected voice jerks me out of my thoughts. Speio, the son of Soren and Echlios, is both my oldest friend in the world and, without a doubt, the biggest thorn in my side. I eye him, watching the tense way he’s swimming toward me. His body is slender and pale gold like his mother’s, with luminous green fins spanning his entire length. While the look in his eyes isn’t exactly aggressive, the slow sideways motion of his body is. “Do you have any idea how far out you are?”
“No,” I say truthfully. “I lost track.”
Speio bares his teeth in borderline disrespect. “Everyone’s on high alert because of what happened. The least you can do is stay with your guards.”
“Since