Page 7 of Taken By the Leviathan King

The way Zorath says “guest” sends a ripple of irritation through my scales. I feel Imoogeen tense beside me, her quickening pulse a siren call to my protective instincts. Without conscious thought, I shift, positioning my bulk between her and Zorath’s piercing gaze. For a fleeting moment, I catch a flicker of something in Zorath’s dark eyes—not just skepticism, but almost . . . guarded. It’s gone as quickly as it appears, masked by his usual impassivity.

“This is Imoogeen,” I declare, my voice rumbling with the full authority of the Leviathan throne. “She stands with us against Rynor’s treachery.”

Zorath’s expression remains impassive, but the slight flutter of his gills betrays his surprise. And perhaps, that fleeting shadow I saw before was not surprise, but recognition. My inner beast purrs with satisfaction. Good. Let him be unsettled.

“I see,” Zorath intones, his skepticism barely veiled. His gaze lingers on Imoogeen for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, a subtle calculation in his dark eyes. “And how does an alien surface-dweller propose to aid us in the intricacies of Leviathan politics?”

I open my mouth, ready to assert Imoogeen’s value, but she surges forward before I can speak. The fierce set of her jaw, the defiant lift of her chin—it makes my blood sing.

“By offering a perspective your stagnant depths clearly lack,” she challenges, her voice as steady as the deepest currents. “Sometimes it takes an outsider to see the cracks in your precious system.”

Pride swells in my chest, and I unconsciously straighten, my tail lashing once in satisfaction. My little warrior, facing down one of the Abyss’s most formidable minds without flinching. She truly is my perfect match.

Zorath’s eyes narrow, but I catch the ghost of respect in his gaze. “Bold words, little one. Let’s hope you can back them up with action.”

“That’s enough,” I growl, my patience wearing thin. “Imoogeen is here as my equal, Zorath. You will treat her with the respect her position demands.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and I feel Imoogeen’s sharp intake of breath. She turns to me, those fierce green eyes wide with surprise and something else—a flicker of heat that makes my blood sing.

“Equal?” she asks, her voice low enough that only I can hear. “I thought I was your prisoner.”

I lean close, my chest rumbling with a possessive growl. “Prisoner? No, little warrior. You are my match, my future queen.” My claws trace the emerging scales along her neck, relishing her shiver. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can face our enemies together.”

She shivers, and I have to fight the urge to wrap her in my arms, to shield her from Zorath’s calculating gaze and the dangers that lurk beyond these walls. But she is not some fragile thing to be coddled. She is a warrior, my equal. And it’s time she understood exactly what that means.

I turn back to Zorath, keeping Imoogeen close to my side. “Tell us what you’ve learned about Rynor’s movements.”

Zorath nods, his demeanor shifting from wary to all business. He waves a hand over the massive stone table that dominates the center of the room, and suddenly the surface comes alive with swirling patterns of bioluminescent algae. They form a three-dimensional map of the Abyss, each pulsing light representing a different faction, a different potential threat.

“Rynor has been busy,” Zorath says, his claw tracing a pattern of red lights that cluster near the eastern border of our territory. “He’s been gathering supporters among the lesser houses, promising them power and territory once he takes the throne.”

I feel Imoogeen lean forward, her eyes sharp as she studies the map. “These red lights,” she says, pointing to a particularly dense cluster, “they’re not evenly distributed. They’re concentrated here, near this . . . what is that? A trench?”

Zorath’s eyes widen slightly, clearly not expecting such astute observation from a surface-dweller. “The Obsidian Chasm,” he confirms. “It’s a source of rare minerals and crystals, vital to our people’s technology and energy manipulation abilities.”

Imoogeen nods, her mind clearly working through tactical possibilities. “So he’s not just gathering allies,” she muses. “He’s positioning them strategically. Cutting off your access to resources.”

Pride swells in my chest.My little warrior, already proving her worth.“Clever human,” I purr, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice.

She shoots me a look that’s part annoyance, part something warmer. “I’m not a pet to be praised, Krak’zol.”

“No,” I agree, letting my hand rest possessively on the small of her back. “You’re so much more than that.”

Zorath clears his throat, drawing our attention back to the matter at hand. “Your . . . companion . . . is correct,” he says, grudging respect in his tone. “Rynor is moving to isolate us, both politically and economically. But that’s not the worst of it.”

With another wave of his hand, the map shifts, zooming in on a section of the Abyss I know all too well—the Heart of the Deep, where the very essence of our power resides. A pulsing blue light at its center represents the ancient crystal formation that has sustained our people for millennia.

“He means to claim the Heart,” I growl, fury building in my chest. “To drain it of its power and use it against us.”

Imoogeen’s sharp intake of breath tells me she understands the gravity of the situation. “And if he succeeds?”

“Then the Abyss dies,” Zorath says bluntly. “And with it, all hope of peace between our people and yours.”

I feel Imoogeen tense beside me, her mind no doubt racing through the implications. Her gaze locks onto mine, fierce and probing. “Why would Rynor do this? He’s your brother, isn’t he? This is his home too. Surely he must understand the consequences.”

Her question cuts deep, forcing me to confront the painful truth of my brother’s betrayal. I clench my fists, claws digging into my palms. “Rynor . . . he’s always craved power above all else. He believes he can control the Heart, harness its energy without destroying it. But he’s wrong.”

“And your people?” Imoogeen presses, her tone sharp. “Is he willing to sacrifice them too?”

---