Page 4 of Taken By the Alien Siren King

We hit the water together, the violent current dragging us under.

CHAPTER TWO

EMME

Water rushed into my lungs. The shock of it paralyzed me as my body fought against instinct, desperate not to inhale more. Pressure squeezed my chest from the inside out. My vision blurred, darkening at the edges.

This wasn’t how I was supposed to die. Not on first contact. Not before securing a future for the thousands still asleep on the Legacy.

Strong arms locked around my waist, pulling me deeper. I thrashed against them, my oxygen-starved brain screaming to reach the surface. But the current was too powerful, the arms too strong.

Then I felt it. A vibration that started as a low rumble before expanding into something that defied description. Not quite sound, not quite touch. It pulsed through the water around me, through my skin, into my bones.

The king was... singing?

The sea itself seemed to obey him. Water pulled away from my face, creating a perfect bubble of air around my head. I gasped, coughing out seawater as precious oxygen filled myburning lungs. My vision cleared, the bubble acting like an old-school diving helmet.

“Breathe,” Lairos commanded, his voice distorted but understandable through the water barrier. “Just breathe.”

His transformation stunned me into compliance. The briefings on Khadian physiology had mentioned their aquatic adaptations, but seeing it in action—experiencing it—was something else entirely. He hovered in the water as naturally as I could stand on a mountaintop. Gills fluttered along his neck, opening and closing with each breath. Deep red-gold scales spread over his shoulders and down his back and legs, which had fused into a powerful, fringed tail.

Above us, distorted by the water’s surface, flashes of weapons fire illuminated the churning waves. One blast, then another, sliced through the water and shot past us.

“We need to move,” Lairos snarled. “Now.”

As if I had any choice. One arm hooked around my waist, and he dove deeper with sweeping strokes of that impressive tail. My bubble of air moved with me, defying every law of the natural world I knew.

The deeper we went, the darker it became. Light filtered through in wavering beams, throwing strange formations and darting sea life into temporary spotlight. I should have been terrified—and part of me was—but another part marveled at what I was seeing. Untouched coral formations. Vibrant ecosystems. Life, thriving where Earth’s oceans had died.

This was everything we’d hoped for. Everything we’d been prepared to bargain for.

A small, spiny creature glared at us from a rocky outcropping, its numerous spikes quivering with indignation at our intrusion. For some reason, I found this hilarious. A giggle escaped me, followed by another.

“Something amusing?” Lairos asked, glancing back at me with one raised eyebrow.

“That urchin,” I pointed, giggling harder. The sound of my own laughter echoed strangely in the bubble. I couldn’t stop. “He looks so... sogrumpy.”

Lairos stopped swimming abruptly, spinning to face me. His expression shifted from confusion to alarm. He cupped my face between his palms, studying me intently.

“Your air is too thin,” he said, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “You need more.”

My brain felt fuzzy and disconnected. I recognized the symptoms of oxygen deprivation with the detached interest of someone watching it happen to someone else.

“Oh,” I managed. “That’s... not good.”

Lairos pulled me closer, his face a breath away from mine. His mouth opened slightly, and that vibration—that impossible song—intensified. I felt it against my lips, tingling and electric. Air bubbled between us, fresh and clean, flowing into my bubble.

Not quite a kiss. Definitely not a kiss. But the intimacy of it hit me harder than the oxygen. His hands still cradled my face, his eyes locked with mine as he literally breathed life into me. The gold ring around his green iris seemed to pulse with the rhythm of his song.

My head cleared with each breath, bringing with it a sharp awareness of our position. Of his body against mine. Of the strange heat building where his hands touched my skin.

“What happened?” I asked when my thoughts organized enough for words. “On the surface. The explosions?—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, still feeding air into my bubble. “You’re wasting what I’m giving you.”

“I need to know if my people?—”

“I don’t know what happened. I was busy saving your life.” His jaw tightened. “Now quiet. We need to keep moving.”

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