Page 12 of Taken By the Leviathan King

The question cuts deep, forcing me to confront painful memories. “Rynor was always . . . ambitious. But it was the Heart that changed him. Its power called to him, corrupted him. He believes he can control it, use it to reshape the Abyss in his image.”

“And you?” Imoogeen asks, studying my face with those penetrating eyes. “Are you immune to its corruption?”

“No one is immune,” I admit, moving closer to her again. “But I have something he lacks. Something that anchors me, keeps me from losing myself to the Heart’s song.”

“What’s that?”

Instead of answering, I let my form shift, revealing more of my true nature. My scales darken, patterns of bioluminescence emerging across my skin. My tail lengthens, becomes moreserpentine. Spines unfurl along my back, and my fangs lengthen until they’re fully visible even with my mouth closed.

Imoogeen’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t retreat. Her heart rate spikes, but not entirely from fear. I can smell the sharp tang of attraction mixing with her apprehension.

“This is what you really are,” she breathes, reaching out to trace one of the glowing patterns on my chest. The touch sends electricity through my veins.

“This is part of what I am,” I correct, catching her hand and pressing it flat against my scales. “The other part is what you see when I walk among your kind in my more . . . civilized form. Both are real. Both are me.”

“And Rynor? Does he have this ability too?”

I nod. “All Leviathan rulers do. But Rynor . . . he’s lost himself to the monster. He no longer remembers how to be anything else.”

“The Heart doesn’t create monsters, little warrior. It reveals truth—amplifies what lies beneath the surface,” I rumble, watching her process this. “In Rynor’s case, it would feed the darkness that already consumes him, until nothing of my brother remains.”

My claws flex unconsciously, remembering the wild hunger in Rynor’s eyes when he spoke of the Heart’s power. “But for those with honor, with purpose beyond mere power . . .” I reach for her, unable to resist tracing the emerging scales along her arm, “the Heart strengthens what makes us worthy of our crown. Our ability to protect, to lead. To cherish what is ours.”

Recognition flashes in those fierce green eyes of hers. “The bond,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. The current carries her scent to me—salt and defiance—that makes my fangs ache. “That’s what this is really about. Why you needed a mate.”

“Needed you,” I correct her, my tail curling possessively around her waist. The feel of her against my scales sends heatcoursing through my blood. Even in my partially transformed state, she seems smaller, more delicate—her frame dwarfed by my expanded musculature and thickened hide. The contrast awakens something primal in me, a fierce desire to enfold her completely within my protection.

“The darkness that consumes Rynor . . . it lurks in all of us. But you—” I inhale deeply, drinking in her scent “—you burn too bright for shadows.”

She doesn’t pull away, though I feel the delicious tension in her frame. My little warrior, always ready for battle. Her hand presses against my chest, five fragile fingers splayed across scales that could withstand the crushing pressure of the deepest trenches. The sight of her—so small yet so fearless against my monstrous form—fills me with a tenderness that borders on pain.

“So I’m what, your personal lighthouse?” Her words are sharp, but there’s uncertainty beneath the bite.

A rumbling laugh escapes me, the sound deeper, more resonant in this form. Even facing down ancient powers and royal succession, she maintains that fire. “You are my equal,” I growl, letting my claws—now longer, more deadly—trace delicate patterns along her spine with impossible gentleness. “My balance. My queen.”

The last word makes her shiver, and satisfaction purrs through me. I could crush her with a careless movement, yet here I am, handling her with more care than the rarest treasure of the Abyss. Soon, she’ll understand just how perfectly we fit together. How the very currents of the Abyss sing when we touch.

She shivers, whether from my words or my touch, I’m not sure. “And if I fail?”

“You won’t,” I say with absolute certainty, my form shifting back to its more usual appearance, scales settling into place as my massive tentacles recede. The transformation ripplesthrough me like a wave, but my eyes never leave hers. “We won’t. Together, we are unstoppable.”

A distant rumble interrupts the moment, and I feel Imoogeen tense against me. “What was that?”

I scan the waters around us, my senses on high alert. “Rynor,” I growl. “He’s testing the barriers again. We must return to the palace.”

As if to emphasize my point, another tremor shakes the coral formations around us. Several crystal fish scatter in alarm, their scales releasing clouds of toxin into the water.

“This way,” I say, taking Imoogeen’s hand. “Stay close to me.”

We move through the gardens with renewed urgency, my form shifting back towards its primal state as we encounter more signs of Rynor’s interference. The scales along my spine flare and thicken, my claws extending to their full, deadly length. I sense Imogen’s eyes on me, tracking each transformation with wary fascination.

“There,” I growl, pointing to a seemingly innocent cluster of azure coral. “That wasn’t there yesterday.”

Imogen narrows her eyes, studying the formation. Her tactical mind works visibly behind those fierce green eyes. “A trap? It looks harmless enough.”

As if responding to her doubt, a small fish darts too close to the coral. In an instant, the formation erupts with deadly precision—barbed tendrils lashing out and impaling the creature before retracting with their prize.

“Venomous,” I explain, watching her expression shift from skepticism to grim understanding. “One touch would paralyze you within seconds.”

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