Page 28 of Taken By the Leviathan King

“The eastern passage,” Zorath identifies, his expression skeptical. “It’s too volatile. The pressure changes alone would crush most warriors.”

“But not Leviathan royalty,” Imoogeen points out. “The Heart’s essence protects us from such extremes.”

Us. The word sends a surge of possessive satisfaction through me. She truly sees herself as one of us now—my queen, my mate.

“It’s still a significant risk,” Vara cautions. “And Rynor will have considered this approach, even if he deems it unlikely.”

“Which is why we don’tallgo that way,” I say, the strategy becoming clear. “We divide our forces. The main army approaches from the north—a direct challenge that Rynor will expect. Meanwhile, a smaller force, led by Imoogeen and myself, slips through the eastern passage.”

“A pincer movement,” Zorath nods, approval warming his normally stoic features. “Rynor will commit his forces to the northern battle, leaving the Heart vulnerable to a smaller, more mobile attack force.”

“Exactly.” Imoogeen’s eyes meet mine, a perfect understanding flowing between us. “But there’s more. The information I pulled from Bethra’s mind wasn’t just about timing. Rynor has developed some kind of parasite—a concentrated form of the corruption. He plans to implant it directly into the Heart during the alignment.”

Murmurs of alarm ripple through the council.

“Such desecration would poison not just the Heart, but all waters connected to it,” Nira says, horror evident in her voice. “Including the oceans of Earth.”

The implications hang heavy in the water. If Rynor succeeds, not only will my kingdom fall, but Imoogeen’s homeworld will lose any chance of salvation.

“Then we stop him,” I state simply, my decision made. “Prepare the army. We move at first light.”

As the council disperses to carry out orders, Imoogeen remains at the tactical display, her expression troubled.

“What concerns you?” I ask when we’re alone.

“The corruption inside me,” she admits, one hand unconsciously touching the patch of discolored scales at her ribs.“It’s connected to Rynor somehow. What if he can use it against us? What if I become a liability?”

I move closer, towering over her smaller form. Not to intimidate, but to surround her with my presence, my protection.

“You are my strength, not my weakness,” I tell her, my voice low and certain. “Our bond is stronger than his corruption.”

She looks up at me, vulnerability and strength warring in her gaze. “You can’t know that.”

“I can.” I place my hand over hers, where it rests against her corrupted scales. “Because I would tear apart the sea itself before I let him take you from me.”

Dawn brings no light to the depths of the Abyss, only a subtle shift in the bioluminescent patterns that mark the passage of time. My warriors assemble in silent formation, their weapons charged with energy harvested from the Heart’s outer chambers.

Imoogeen stands before them, resplendent in battle armor forged specifically for her unique physiology—part human, part Leviathan. The corruption has spread overnight, green tendrils visible beneath the translucent scales at her neck, but her eyes remain clear and determined.

“Youshouldremain behind,” I try one last time, though I already know her answer.

“Not a chance.” She checks the heartstone blade at her hip. “Besides, according to Nira’s research, we need both of us toneutralize the parasite. Your strength, my connection to two worlds.”

She’s right, of course. The ancient texts Bethra referenced in her moment of clarity spoke of a ritual that requires the combined essence of bonded royals to purge corruption from the Heart. A convenient truth that neatly eliminates any possibility of keeping her safely away from battle.

My fingers brush the royal insignia hanging from a chain around my neck—a ceremonial piece worn by Leviathan kings since the first Heart-bond. On impulse, I remove it, the weight familiar in my palm.

“Kneel,” I command softly.

Surprise flickers across her face, but she complies, dropping to one knee before me. The warriors around us fall silent, recognizing the significance of the moment.

I place the chain around her neck, the insignia settling against her chest. It glows in response to her transformed essence, accepting her as its rightful bearer.

“By the ancient laws of the Abyss, I recognize Imoogeen Vance as my bonded queen, equal in authority and power,” I declare, my voice carrying to every warrior present. “Her commands are my commands. Her strength is the strength of the Abyss.”

When she rises, something has shifted in the way my warriors regard her—not just as my chosen mate, but as their queen by right and ritual. The formal acknowledgment settles something within me as well, a certainty that regardless of the outcome of this battle, she is truly mine now, as I am hers.

“Try not to die gloriously without me,” she quips, but I feel the depth of emotion behind her light words.

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