Page 21 of Taken By the Leviathan King

“The traditional punishment for treason is execution,” one of the elder warriors interjects, his voice hard with disapproval. “Our laws are clear.”

Several others murmur in agreement, their gazes fixed on Krak’zol, waiting for his judgment. This is a test, I realize—not just of Zorath’s loyalty, but of Krak’zol’s leadership and my influence over him.

Krak’zol straightens, his massive form seeming to fill the chamber. The ridges along his spine flare, his tail lashing once with barely contained power. When he speaks, his voice carries the weight of ancient authority.

“Our traditions exist to protect our people and preserve our way of life,” he states, each word measured and deliberate. “But a king who cannot adapt, who cannot show wisdom in the face of new challenges, is no true king at all.”

He moves to stand beside me, his hand finding the small of my back in a gesture that feels both protective and declarative. The message is clear: we stand united.

“Zorath has committed treason, yes. But his motivation was not malice or ambition—it was love. A bond as sacred as any in our traditions.” Krak’zol’s gaze sweeps the room. “I will not punish loyalty to one’s mate with death. Instead, I offer redemption through service.”

A ripple of surprise moves through the gathered warriors. Some look uncertain, others approving. I notice how they look at me differently now—not as an outsider, but as someone with influence, with power.

As their queen.

The thought should terrify me. Instead, it settles over me with surprising rightness, like slipping into water that’s the perfect temperature.

“Prepare a strike team,” Krak’zol commands. “We move on Rynor’s fortress at nightfall. Zorath and Nira will accompany us—their knowledge will be essential.”

As the warriors disperse to carry out his orders, Krak’zol turns to me, his expression softening slightly. “You’ve changed the course of Leviathan justice today, Imogen. Not many could have done that.”

I shrug, trying to ignore the warm glow his approval kindles in my chest. “I just applied a little human diplomacy to an underwater problem. Besides, executing your best intelligence asset seems like a waste of resources.”

His laugh is a low rumble that I feel more than hear. “Always the tactician.” His clawed hand gently tilts my chin up, hissilver eyes searching mine. “But there was more than strategy in your advocacy. There was compassion. It’s... not a quality prized among Leviathans. Yet I find myself valuing it in you.”

The admission feels weighty, significant. Before I can respond, he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper that sends shivers across my skin.

“We move against Rynor tonight. The battle ahead will be dangerous, possibly deadly. If there is anything left unspoken between us, Imogen, now is the time.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. There’s so much unsaid, so much I’m still processing: The changes in my body, the bond between us, the way I’m starting to think of the Abyss as home rather than hostile territory, the terrifying reality that I might be falling for him—this alien king who claimed me as his own.

But what comes out is much simpler.

“Just don’t die,” I tell him, my voice rougher than intended. “I’m just starting to like you, and I’d hate to have to rule this underwater kingdom all by myself.”

His answering smile is fierce and possessive, full of promise. “As my queen commands.”

Later, returning to my chambers to prepare for the mission, I find a small, luminescent pearl resting on my pillow. It glows with an inner light that shifts and pulses like a tiny captured star. No note accompanies it, but I don’t need one to know who left it there.

I lift it carefully between my fingers, marveling at how something so small can feel so weighty with meaning. The pearl’s surface catches the light, refracting it into tiny rainbows that dance across my palm. Whatever this is, it’s not just decoration—it’s something precious, something meaningful.

My throat tightens unexpectedly as I close my fist around it. I’ve received medals, commendations, even the occasional token of appreciation from comrades, but nothing has ever feltlike this—like holding a piece of someone’s heart in my hand. I don’t know what this pearl means in Leviathan culture, but I understand what it means coming from him.

This is Krak’zol—fierce, domineering, ruthless Krak’zol—acknowledging my judgment, thanking me, perhaps even telling me he’s proud.

“Damn you,” I whisper, but there’s no heat in it, just a strange, unfamiliar warmth spreading through my chest that I’m not quite ready to name. I slip the pearl into the small pocket near my heart, where I can feel its gentle pressure against my skin as I move.

It shouldn’t matter this much. It shouldn’t make me feel this way.

But it does.

Chapter ten

KRAK’ZOL

Theancientcorridorsleadingto the Heart pulsed with an energy I could feel through my scales, a vibration that grew stronger with each powerful stroke of my tail. Beside me, Imoogeen moved with increasing grace through the water, her transformation progressing faster than I had anticipated. The venom bond had taken hold completely, her body adapting to survive in my world.

And survive she must. Tonight, we faced Rynor, and I would not lose her when I had only just found her.

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