Piercing rain and blistering winds lay siege to the mountainside. Y/N shivers, huddling in a rocky crevice. She has been here for hours now, wet hair plastered to her face, body bruised and rubbed raw from the climb up.

She can hear Lysanthir shrieking wildly somewhere far down, his roars vacillating between wrath and anguish. He is tearing the ocean below apart, searching everywhere he can for her. And he's not alone. The screams of Ryfon, Vesryn and countless other murdukann rise up from the depths.

Y/N rises to her feet. They aren't going to call the hunt off anytime soon, but she can't stay withering away on this mountain.

Vaulting over a boulder, she pads across the rocky outcropping, making her way around the ledge. Her knuckles turn white as she clutches at the rock face. The surface is slick with water.

She crouches, ready to drop into a small alcove.

Then her mark sears. She doubles over in pain as Lysanthir forces his way through the bond, seizing her in his grasp.

Her foot misses the edge.

Falling. She's falling.

Y/N slides uncontrolled down the slope, her arms flailing, trying to grab something—anything. Rocks smack against her, tearing into her nightgown. She yells out in pain as stone connects with flesh.

She collides with water, hitting the surface with a crash. Her gills shudder to life as she sinks, stars swimming before her eyes. The impact has left her on the brink of unconsciousness.

Y/N's back softly lands on the sandy sea floor. The surface glistens far above, long tendrils of seaweed billowing around her.

Her eyes shutter closed, and everything goes quiet.

~~~~~~~

Blurred green and blue dance before her eyes. She flutters her lids, closing and opening them again. Trying to stop the ringing in her ears, to move her leaden limbs.

Her mark flares, and she slips back into darkness.

~~~~~~~

Y/N's eyes spring open. Clear, crystalline water surrounds her. Dark green seaweed swirls, hiding her.

Which means she's still back where she fell. The murdukann haven't found her yet.

She moves her gills, testing them out. She twitches her fingers, feeling the grains of sand on her skin, the gentle current wafting past her hair.

Bracing herself, she sits up, groaning as pain electrifies every nerve in her body. She surveys the damage.

Bruises spread across her body. Cuts pepper her legs, her arms, her torso. Sitting up has caused a particularly deep one on her thigh to tear back open, tendrils of dark blood wafting into the water.

Wincing, Y/N clamps a hand over it. Blood will be a bright beacon to the murdukann, an alarm leading them to her.

Reaching down, she tears a long piece of fabric off her nightgown, then ties it tightly around the wound.

Y/N inches forwards, scanning the sea floor. She has no idea where she is. She has no idea where to go from here.

Burying her face in her hands, she sighs. She's hurt. She doesn't have any food. Or supplies. Or even a plan for getting out of here.

So, she just has to continue forwards. She kicks her legs, gritting her teeth at the pain but paddling on.

Something glints in the corner of her eye. She turns, but nothing is there. Brushing aside the apprehension creeping up her spine, she ducks around a corner.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite runaway," a snickering voice rings out.

Y/N spins around to see a smirking Ryfon sauntering towards her, his jagged scars glinting in the shadows.

She yelps as he reaches her, clutching her arm tightly. Long nails dig into her skin.

"I've been looking for you," he says to her, drawing out each syllable. She sniffles as blood begins to run down her arm. Ryfon's eel-like tail slithers around her.

His hand grabs Y/N's throat, and fiery red hair surrounds her field of vision. She tries to pry his fingers off her, but he holds her in an iron grip.

"I see you still haven't lost that futile defiance of yours," he licks his lips, tilting his head mockingly.

"I told Lysanthir, he should have broken you from the start," his tone grows dark, "Should have made you watch when he dragged your human family down to the bottom of the ocean."

Ryfon watches gleefully as heartache floods Y/N's face. Memories of the last time she saw her family blaze before her eyes, blinding her.

"Then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be so disobedient," he crows.

A slimy, forked tongue snakes up her cheek. She cries out, but the murdukann's hand squeezes her throat, abruptly stopping any further sounds.

Ryfon simpers as his unnaturally long tongue slithers across her cheek, then down along her neck and collarbone.

"Delicious," he breathes out, groaning in perverse pleasure.

Y/N shudders in disgust, every nerve in her body on edge, begging for her to get away.

The hand around her arm loosens, then starts to travel down her side. Rough fingers reach the edge of her nightgown.

Panic courses through her body.

Ryfon sneers, bringing an index finger to her lips, signalling to her to be quiet.

His hand resumes sliding up her thigh, pushing aside her nightgown. The other is still placed firmly around her neck.

No. No. No.

She can't run. She can't even yell for help.

Help. She needs help. Y/N knows she can't speak, but...there may be another way.

He knows how to reach her through the bond. Maybe it could work both ways.

Ryfon's hand reaches to touch between her legs.

And Y/N screams down the bond.

Silence.

Maybe it doesn't work like that. Maybe she can't call to him like he does to her.

Then, a dark thrumming responds, starting as a murmur and then getting louder and louder.

Ryfon perks his pointed ears, listening intently to the thunderous roaring growing closer.

"What the—"

The murdukann is ripped off of her before he can continue. The water turns into a cloud of red as Lysanthir tears into Ryfon.

Y/N turns away from the carnage. Clumps of red hair fall to the sea floor before her, along with pieces of skin and muscle. The mermen crash against each other, unleashing their full monstrosity. But Ryfon is no match for Lysanthir's rage.

Strong arms wrap around her. Lysanthir hugs her to his chest. She breaths a sigh of relief, nestling further into his embrace as she sees Ryfon skulking off.

Her attacker's jaw hangs off kilter, one eye shredded, and a shoulder torn down to the bone. He limps away, cupping a hand to his battered face.

Lysanthir cradles Y/N softly, trembling as he caresses her hair.

"Mine," he whispers, "All mine."