Author's Note: the second half of this chapter contains some explicit sexual themes 🍋 These themes will only get stronger going forwards, and I may not have warnings in the future!

~~~~~~~

Y/N sits on the marbled floor, staring out of the window that stretches up to the domed ceiling. The architect of Athtar seems to have been a fan of domes—her bathroom also has one.

A pair of purple jellyfish drift by, nudging one another gently. Y/N is so transfixed by the ocean scenery that she almost doesn't notice the small figure emerge behind her, resting their elbows on the ledge of the water passage.

Y/N whips around, and comes face to face with a girl with long, flowing dark hair. Gentle, brown eyes look up at Y/N. She is beautiful.

Y/N's eyebrows crease in concern as she spots ageing bruises on the girl's forehead and cheek, as well as a cut on her lip.

"Y/N?" The girl speaks quietly, with a slight accent Y/N can't place. Her demeanour is shy, and her face is soft and rounded.

She looks...human.

But Y/N can see a blush pink tail swaying under the water.

"How do you know who I am?"

"I heard," She glances behind her nervously, as if she is prey being hunted, "I heard Ryfon talk about you."

Even mentioning the red-haired murdukann makes the girl quake.

"Talk about how Lysanthir was going to get his mate", she continues, "the one whose mark called to him from across the ocean."

Realisation hits Y/N.

"You're Katerina," Y/N whispers, moving closer.

The girl nods, wringing her hands anxiously.

"What happened to you?" Y/N asks. She can see the faint scars of manacles that had once been clasped tightly around Katerina's wrists.

"I was human too, once," melancholy tinges Katerina's voice, "But I was born marked, just like you."

Katerina reaches a hand to her neck, brushing aside strands of hair to reveal a patch of iridescent scales. Y/N instinctively touches her own mark.

"One day, he came. Ryfon..." Katerina's bottom lip trembles as a tear falls down her cheek, "Ryfon murdered my parents and left my sister for dead."

Y/N holds a hand out and Katerina grasps it in her own, offering a small smile of gratitude at the sign of support.

The mermaid sighs, "Little did I know, that was only the start of it."

Katerina suddenly turns her head, hearing something down in the water.

"I—I have to go, I'm not supposed to be here", she whispers, "Just...try not to make him angry."

Y/N doesn't know whether she's talking about Ryfon or Lysanthir.

Then, Katerina dives down, swimming back to wherever she came from.

"Wait—" Y/N begins, but her new friend is already gone.

She waits by the ledge, searching the water for any sign of Katerina. None come.

Y/N slumps back against the wall, breathless.

Is this the fate that awaits me?

She can't get Katerina's bruised face out of her mind. Her scarred wrists. Her torn lip.

Her murdukann tail.

~~~~~~~

A splashing sound wakes Y/N up with a jolt. She blinks several times, letting her eyes adjust to being awake again. She must have fallen asleep curled up against the wall.

Looking towards the water passageway, Y/N sees Lysanthir. Perched on the side, he's holding a small basket.

"I brought you dinner," he says, sliding the basket towards her.

Y/N carefully opens the lid and peers inside. An array of food greets her: undersea plants, oysters, and even a cooked fish.

Wait...a cooked fish?

Anticipating her question, Lysanthir explains, "You wouldn't eat the fish raw, so I had it cooked using one of the volcanic vents nearby."

How peculiar. She prods the fish, and it does indeed seem pretty well cooked.

"Thank you," Y/N gives him a slight smile.

"Instead of mere words, why don't you show me your thanks?" Lysanthir asks, leaning expectantly over the ledge of the pool.

Y/N pauses. What is he asking of her?

Knowing she can't refuse him, she slowly approaches the merman, keeping her seated position on the floor. She doesn't know exactly what he wants, but she can guess.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and plants a kiss on his lips.

His hand moves to her neck, keeping her in place. He deepens the kiss, his mouth parting gently. She can feel that undulating purr of his, the thrumming emanating from his chest.

Y/N doesn't want to return the kiss, but Katerina's words of warning flash before her.

Just try not to make him angry.

Shoving down any protests within her, she parts her lips, embracing Lysanthir's affections. She kisses him softly, but his passion quickly takes over.

His strong arms lift Y/N down into the water, her nightdress swirling around her. He sits on a shallow step, placing her so she straddles his tail. One hand still cupping her neck, the other now travels down to the small of her back, pressing her against him.

He lowers his mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he travels down to her collarbone.

Y/N's heart pounds with fear and with...something else. She can't deny it. As much as she doesn't want to enjoy this, she can feel her traitorous body start to respond to his touch.

Lysanthir's lips find her mouth again. His hands are now on her waist, pushing the fabric aside as they move up her nightgown bodice. His fingers teasingly trace up her stomach. She trembles as they begin to snake higher.

Cold hands cup her rounded breasts, caressing the soft skin now laid bare by his touch. Y/N inhales sharply, her nerves on fire as Lysanthir's hands explore her, memorising every curve. His fingers brush over her nipples, already taut with confused excitement. Y/N moans softly, arching her back despite herself.

She gasps, shy and mortified at her reaction to his touch.

Lysanthir looks appreciatively at her feminine figure, his gaze so penetrating she feels as though he is undressing her with his eyes.

Then, he stops, feeling something on her rib cage. The area is strangely sensitive.

The merman lets out a small sound of delight. He gazes up at Y/N, a look of contentment shining in his onyx eyes.

"Our bond is getting strong," Lysanthir says, taking one of Y/N's hands in his own and having her trace the faint outline of parallel ridges along her torso. The grooves go from underneath the curve of her breasts to the bottom of her ribs.

Noticing Y/N's confusion, a smile graces his lips.

"These are the beginnings of gills," he murmurs, lovingly tracing the ridges, "They aren't yet open, but they will be soon."

Cold dread floods Y/N. She knows her body is changing, but all the changes have been small, invisible to the eye. Until now. Gills are hard to ignore. She feels herself getting dangerously close to a point of no return.

To Y/N's relief, Lysanthir bids her goodnight, saying she must be tired from their long journey.

She is. But more than that, Y/N can't wait to rest in a bed outside of the water, free from Lysanthir—even if only for a few hours.