Page 17 of Sworn to Consume
The screen glows with an open message thread in Russian. “I’m meeting him next week, when they come to give Solas his next supply.”
My stomach knots the moment I read it. Cheap, sleazy flirting. Lines that drip filth.
I know these words. I know the men who use them.
They’re throwing lewd comments at a child.
She’sfifteen.
I feel the bile rising fast, choking. My fingers twitch around the phone.
I know this world. Ilivedthis world. I remember the way men’s eyes shifted the second my chest came in, the second my body curved.
I was a child.
They didn’t care.
To them, I was nothing but a wet dream—ripe, ready, disposable.
The memories claw at me, hot and jagged. My lungs burn, my throat closes. For a moment, I almost can’t breathe.
Diana is still watching me, waiting, proud of herself for what she’s done. She doesn’t understand the cost.
“You’re not going,” I say finally, my voice low, raw.
She frowns, opening her mouth to argue, but I cut her off, sharper this time. “No. You’re not. Ever.”
I drag in a breath, steadying, even as my insides scream. “Stop putting your life in danger.”
That’s a red line. One, I will not let her cross.
Not while I’m still breathing.
Malec
Mom was right to be worried. More than ten merfolk have disappeared in the last six months.
I swam over to Mal-El City, hoping a visit with Grandma and Grandpa might fill in the gaps about what Father had been working on. But the truth hit harder than I expected.
Most of the missing weren’t royals. But two were—Sur-El, Aquan—and the thought knotted my stomach. That’s not just bad. That’s a warning I can’t ignore.
Not for me. Not for the fragile balance of the pods. My uncle, my grandparents, my cousin, and my sister are still royals. I can’t let a single ripple of danger reach them.
“One of the Royals belongs to Sur-El. Their princess has gone missing,” Grandma says, swimming beside me in Grandpa’s blinding office.
I still can’t get used to all the gold and gems everywhere. It’s too much for my taste.
The pod marks stretching over my long silver tail and body catch the light and gleam softly whenever I’m in here—makingthe brightness of the room even harder to deal with. Irritating. Distracting even.
But I force myself to focus on what matters. Stakes this high don't leave room for distraction. Not here. Not now.
The pods’ messengers swim in one by one, each bringing an update for another victim—because they all know Queen Lora will reach out to me.
They needme.
The Coral of Lifeme—to fix this. To protect them.
“Is she dead?” I ask, even though I know I’d feel it if she were. But I’ve been so hungry lately I might’ve missed it.
