Page 9 of Taken By the Leviathan King

I force myself to relax, though wariness still thrums through my veins. “Tend to me? I’m not injured.”

Nira’s laugh is like bubbles rising to the surface, light but with an undercurrent that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “No, but you are changing. The bond-bite brings more than just physical alterations. I’m here to help you understand and navigate those changes.”

The mention of the bond-bite sends a shiver down my spine, heat blooming across my skin as I remember Krak’zol’s fangs against my neck—the pressure, the sharp sting, the rush of something foreign and intoxicating flooding my veins. I shake my head, forcing the memory away. “Fine. Lead the way.”

The corridors narrow as we descend, the water growing denser, heavier against my skin. Each turn reveals new wonders that make me pause despite myself. Luminescent algae trace delicate patterns along the ceiling, pulsing in rhythmic waves that cast everything in an ethereal blue glow. My fingertips brush against the wall, and I’m startled by the texture—not cold stone, as I expected, but something alive, warm, and slightly yielding beneath my touch.

“What is this?” I murmur, unable to contain my curiosity.

“Living coral,” Nira answers, her melodic voice echoing strangely in the enclosed space. “Our structures grow with us, shaped by our needs and desires.”

As we descend deeper, the embedded mother-of-pearl in the walls grows more abundant, transforming from occasional accents to entire sections that shimmer like captured moonlight. The iridescent surfaces catch and refract the bioluminescent glow, creating kaleidoscopic patterns that dance across my skin. The effect is disorienting and beautiful—like walking through the inside of some massive, living jewel.

The water carries strange scents—mineral-rich currents mingled with something herbal and unfamiliar. I feel it in my newly sensitive gills, taste it on my tongue. My body responds to this environment in ways my mind still struggles to comprehend, instinctively adjusting to pressure changes I wouldn’t have survived a week ago.

When we finally reach Nira’s chamber, I stop at the entrance, momentarily overwhelmed by the sensory experience awaiting me inside. The space feels ancient and alive, like stepping inside a living organism rather than a room. Glowing creatures pulse in glass orbs suspended from the ceiling, their gentle rhythm almost hypnotic. They cast everything in an otherworldly blue-green glow that makes my newly sensitive eyes tingle. Shelves carved directly into the coral walls hold countless vessels—translucent shells, polished stone jars, and delicate glass vials filled with liquids in colors I’ve never seen before.

“Sit,” Nira instructs, gesturing to a raised platform covered in what appears to be living moss.

When I lower myself onto it, the surface shifts beneath me, molding perfectly to my body’s contours. I fight the urge to jump back up as it cradles me like a sentient embrace.

Nira’s webbed hands are cool against my skin as she examines me, her touch clinical but not unkind. Her touch is cool and clinical, a contrast to the heat of Krak’zol’s hand. The thought sent an unwelcome shiver through me. I watch her face as sheworks, noting the slight furrow between her brows, the focused intensity of her gaze.

“The changes are progressing well,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. Her fingers trace the faint pattern of scales emerging along my forearms, their iridescent sheen catching the light. “Your body is adapting quickly to the Abyss.”

“That’s what worries me,” I admit, the words escaping before I can stop them. I flex my fingers, watching the subtle webbing between them stretch and contract. “It feels like I’m losing myself. Like I’m becoming . . . something else entirely.”

Nira’s eyes meet mine, swirling depths filled with understanding and something deeper—wisdom tinged with what might be regret. “Change does not mean loss, Imoogeen. You are becoming more, not less. The bond-bite awakens potential that already exists within you.”

I snort, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Potential to be what? Krak’zol’s perfect little mate?” My hand unconsciously rises to my neck, fingers tracing the mark he left there.

“To be his equal,” Nira corrects gently. “The bond-bite is not about subjugation. It is a joining of equals, a melding of strengths.” She continues her examination, her fingers pausing at my pulse point. “Krak’zol chose you because he saw something in you that complements his own nature.”

Her words stir something deep within me, a mix of longing and fear that I’m not ready to examine too closely. “You speak from experience?” I ask, studying her face. “Do you have a bond-mate?”

A shadow passes over Nira’s features, quick but unmistakable. Her hands falter for just a moment before resuming their work. “My personal history is not relevant to your treatment,” she says, her melodic voice suddenly distant.

Something in her evasion makes my stomach clench. I glance at her slender form, her graceful movements, the way her scales shimmer with an almost hypnotic beauty. Had she and Krak’zol once shared this bond? The thought sends an unexpected stab of jealousy through me, sharp and raw. It’s ridiculous. Illogical. And yet, the image of them together, connected in the way I’m beginning to understand,burns.

“I think it is relevant,” I press, catching her wrist. My voice comes out harder than intended. “If I’m going to trust you with my transformation, I need to know you understand what I’m going through.” I swallow, forcing myself to ask the question burning in my throat. “Were you and Krak’zol ever . . . connected?”

Nira’s eyes widen slightly, then soften with something like pity. “No, Imoogeen. Not in the way you’re thinking.” She gently extracts her hand from my grip. “I understand more than you know,” she says quietly, pain threading through her words. “But today is about you, not me.” The finality in her tone makes it clear the subject is closed.

The knot in my stomach loosens, though I hate myself for the relief that floods through me. I decide not to push further—for now. “Tell me about the bond, then,” I say instead, steering the conversation to safer waters. “What exactly is happening to me?”

Nira’s hands continue their examination as she speaks, her touch soothing despite the lingering tension between us. “The bond-bite introduces Leviathan DNA into your system, awakening latent abilities and adapting your body to life in the Abyss.” She presses gently on my ribcage. “Your lungs are already developing secondary chambers to process water more efficiently. You’ll find yourself stronger, faster, more attuned to the currents around you.”

I flex my hand, watching the play of new muscles rippling beneath my skin. I’m simultaneously fascinated and horrifiedby the changes—my body becoming a stranger to me with each passing hour. “I’ve noticed that. The other day, I shattered a coral cup without even trying.” I swallow hard. “But it’s more than just physical, isn’t it?”

Nira nods, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth even as something wistful lingers in her eyes. “The bond creates a connection between mates. You’ll become more aware of Krak’zol’s presence, his emotions. In time, you may even be able to communicate without words.”

The idea sends a jolt of panic through me. I sit up straighter, dislodging her hands. “I don’t want him in my head,” I protest, my voice sharp with alarm. “I need to keep my thoughts my own. That’s—that’s the only thing I have left that’s still completely mine.”

“The bond does not strip away your autonomy,” Nira assures me, her tone gentler now. “It is a bridge, not a chain. You control how much you share, how deeply you allow the connection to form.” She hesitates, then adds, “Though fighting it entirely can be . . . painful, for both parties.”

I run my fingers along the faint shimmer of scales on my forearm, a cold dread settling in my stomach. “Will I even look human when this is done? Or will I become something . . . unrecognizable?”

Nira’s expression softens, understanding flickering in those ocean-deep eyes. “You will remain yourself, Imogen. The changes enhance rather than replace.” Her webbed fingers brush gently over my arm where the scales catch the light. “You will appear human to most eyes, but with . . . certain additions that allow you to thrive here.”

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