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“I will always save you. I will always protect you. Long ago, the gods destined us for each other. This reality might be new to you, but I have waited six hundred years for this very moment,” I confess softly, my words filled with longing and a trace of urgency. As we move together through the hall, I guide her gently toward the exit. An intuitive sense tells me she needs reassurance—to know she is not confined, not a prisoner in this strange new world. It’s my duty, my purpose, to ensure her happiness and to show her the freedom and care that now define her life here. “Forgive me if I seem overly eager.”
"Will you take me to the surface? I need…need to breathe air and—" Nerissa's words falter, her voice a whisper of longing as her gaze lifts to follow the sun's light filtering through the water above us. It's a common plea among newcomers, their bodies might adapt to breathing underwater, but their minds often wrestle with a phantom pressure, an imagined weight on their chests making the aquatic environment feel confining.
I nod in understanding, and we begin our ascent slowly, our eyes locked in a silent communion. As we rise, the sun's rays draw closer, casting an ethereal glow around us, illuminating the moment of our union. Each upward movement feels like a step toward a new beginning, the water around us shimmering with the promise of shared futures. I have never been more grateful to the divine forces that sculpted our destinies. They did not abandon me. My mate, long awaited, is finally by my side.
chapter nine
I’m not dead. It feels more like I’ve plunged into madness. Before me stands the most breathtaking man I've ever encountered—an embodiment of ageless grace and rugged beauty, his features as impeccably sculpted as Michelangelo’s David, his countenance divine. He rescued me from the brink of death, emerging like a figure from legend to claim that our lives are intertwined by fate, our paths inexorably drawn together by destiny’s hand. How can this be?
He’s a Kraken, yet he bears little resemblance to the creatures of fiction. Instead, he presents as a mesmerizing hybrid of man and octopus, more akin to a mythical merman with tentacles swirling where one might expect a tail. There's something about him—perhaps the sinuous grace of his movements or the intense depth of his gaze—that steals my breath and sends my heart racing with unbridled lust.
This whirlwind of emotion is entirely new to me. I’ve admired book boyfriends and swooned over celebrities, but never have I been so profoundly shaken by a mere look or a gentle touch. Egon, with his enigmatic allure, has effortlessly kindled a fire within me, a smoldering desire that I can only mask by holding my tongue and feigning composure.
Together, we ascend through the crystal-clear blue, our bodies entwined, moving as one toward the shimmering surface. He cradles me gently, with the tenderness of a lover, drawing me close against his chest. His arms encircle me, each touch infused with warmth and reassurance. He is a being of legend, a mythical creature that should exist only within the worn pages of fantastical tales, and yet, in his embrace, I find an unparalleled sense of security. Despite the surreal reality of his existence, I have never felt so safe or peaceful as I do wrapped in his protective hold.
"Take a deep breath, little girl," Egon advises, nodding toward the nearing surface just moments before we break through. On pure instinct, I loosen my grip on him and thrust my arms over my head, rocketing out of the water with a splash. As I emerge, I gulp down the sweet, fresh air, the transition from water to air feeling surprisingly instantaneous. Egon surfaces smoothly after me, drawing a deep breath while his eyes remain fixed on me with a blend of concern and curiosity. "Are you well?"
I nod vigorously, a surge of exhilaration washing over me. "I really am alive. I don’t think I fully believed it until just now." My fingers weave through my curls to tame them, and I stretch my arms wide over the water, luxuriating in the freedom of movement before returning to Egon’s reassuring side. As I glide away once more, Egon follows, expertly mirroring each of my playful twists and turns. I watch, captivated, as his majestic form slices through the water with effortless grace.
His movements are a regal dance, fluid and precise. The sight of his powerful yet elegant figure maneuvering so harmoniously in the aquatic environment adds a layer of enchantment to our playful chase, highlighting the unspoken connection that pulses rhythmically between us.
"No one has explained how I can breathe underwater. Is what Misty said about my mother true? Is she really a water nymph?" I ask, still struggling to reconcile the image of Marine Sorel, my dependable, cookie-baking mother, with that of a creature from a fantastic realm.
"It is true," Egon confirms, his smile lighting up as he frolics alongside me in the water, effortlessly guiding my gaze toward the distant shore and the dense forest that serves as a buffer between us and the sprawling villages nestled at the mountain's base. "I knew your mother when she lived in Mirinthia. One day, the gods called her to step beyond our borders, drawn by the voice of her destined mate—your father. It’s a rarity for our paths to lead into the mortal realm, but it does occur. She followed her fate courageously, and after that, she vanished from our world, never to be heard from again. I’m delighted to learn she’s lived a happy and productive life. And I’m over the moon she made you."
“My father was her mate? How did she know?” I murmur more to myself than to Egon. But deep down, I need no explanation. I understand how my mother knew, now feeling the undeniable pull myself. The unquenchable fire that Egon ignites within me leaves no room for doubt. Every touch, every shared moment confirms the truth—I have found the love of my life. And with each passing second in his mesmerizing presence, my attraction only grows deeper, anchoring me more firmly to this magical, fated connection.
Egon swiftly closes the distance between us, his tentacles weaving gracefully around my legs before ascending to encircle my waist, drawing me into a tender embrace. "I am the last of my kind, Nerissa. For six centuries, solitude has been my only companion, and I was prepared to endure it for six more, had fate not led me to you." His voice is a soft murmur, filled with a mixture of reverence and solemnity. Gently, he lifts my hand to his lips, and with a deliberate slowness, he kisses each of my fingers, infusing the gesture with meaning. "Our future, our destiny, now rests in your hands," he whispers, sealing his vow with the warmth of his breath against my skin.
“What about Nixie?” The question escapes my lips before I can restrain it, driven by an unexpected surge of jealousy at the thought of that mermaid possibly vying for his attention. My emotions churn—anger, confusion, possessiveness—emotions that shouldn't make sense so soon. Yet, they insistently bubble up. We've only just met, and logically, I hold no claim over him. But Egon himself declared us mates. If that holds any truth, then surely, I deserve some clarity. My thoughts are a whirlpool of contradictions, none of which align with the calm I used to know. I’m not making any sense, but neither has anything since I arrived. I might as well dive into the deep end and embrace it.
“Nixie?” Egon's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He shakes his head, a gesture tinged with a nervous energy, as one of his tentacles gently catches my ankles, drawing me irresistibly closer, like a fish ensnared by an unseen hook.
At first, I pout, half in jest, but soon realize that the look of disappointment has etched itself deeply across my features, refusing to fade.
“She’s merely a subject who overestimates her charm, believing she might catch me,” he explains, his voice steady but his gaze holding mine with an intensity that seeks to dispel any doubts. “That was never a possibility. Deep down, I always felt the pull of your existence, certain that you were out there and that our paths would eventually intersect. I swear, she holds no significance to me.” His words are crafted to mend the flickers of mistrust his initial reaction might have sparked, underscoring a fidelity preordained by the stars themselves.
“Then why does she call you Papa?” My anger blocks my filter, and my scowl deepens, emphasizing the ridiculousness of my current predicament. Just two days ago, I was enjoying a carefree singles’ cruise with my cousins. Now, here I am, consumed by jealousy over a mermaid’s affectionate nickname for Egon—although he’s not exactly a man in the traditional sense, and I’m not entirely certain he's mine. The situation is as bizarre as it is vexing. How did my life veer into the realm of mythical creatures and romantic entanglements with beings from another world? Yet, despite the surreal turn of events, my feelings are unmistakably real.
“I’ve told her to stop, and I’ll tell her again. I’m much older than her and I think she believes I like it.” Egon’s words fail to convince me.
I swim away and he quickly catches my waist, releasing me, then clasping my wrists to keep me from continuing my stride. His teasing makes me feel weak and naughty as lust bubbles up from my roiling belly.
“Why does it seem as though you do like it? You’re old enough to be my father, too,” I ask, sternly, annoyed that those words even cross her lips.
“Little girl, I’m old enough to be your grandfather twenty times over.” Egon closes the distance between us, his lips only a breath away from mine. “Did you want to be the only one to call me that?”
I shake my head, but it does nothing to convince me. “I already have a good father, a loving daddy.” I stop to consider my feelings and bow my head whispering to myself, “But I’ve never had a papa.”
Overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions, I turn to face the distant shore, my gaze settling on the quaint villages peeking through the dense forest. Curiosity, tinged with hope, prompts my next question. “Are those places also a part of this world? I mean, are they touched by magic too?” I point toward the serene landscapes that look nothing like the world I know. From this distance, the villages seem to be woven from a different fabric of reality, untouched and mysterious, with magic pulsing through their very essence.
"The grand palace dominating the skyline is Castle Blackfire, the stronghold of Queen Isolde, who reigns over the witches and governs the nine realms of the Otherworld," Egon explains with a nonchalance that belies the extraordinariness of the information. "She usually maintains a hands-off approach, intervening only when disputes arise among the realms. Over there," he gestures toward a village bathed in a soft, reddish glow, "is Ravenwood, home to the vampire community."
"Witches? Vampires!" My voice cracks slightly, a mix of confusion and a rising fear interrupting my initial wonder. The world I thought was a haven now seems fraught with unknown dangers.
Egon senses my apprehension and quickly reassures me. "They won’t harm you. Although they can be a bit unhinged, the vampires have seen more peaceful days recently. King Attila, their leader, has softened somewhat since he married. The new queen has been good for him, providing healthier ways for him to channel his passions and temper."
"Can we get a closer look?" I ask, my arms propelling me forward with determined strokes. Yet, despite my efforts, I find myself barely advancing, held back by the gentle but firm grasp of Egon's tentacles.
