Hey everyone! SO sorry for the delay. I'm in my junior year of university and have been absolutely swamped this semester. I'll be on holiday soon so can write!! I've missed it (and all of you!) so much and it's awesome to be back!

Please beware this chapter contains mature sexual themes 🍋 this is ROUGH so if you don't like that PLEASE DO NOT READ!!

I would like to reaffirm that this is not a nice, soft love story. If you want that, look elsewhere!

Again, R O U G H.

Now, if you're still here...hope you enjoy the longest chapter yet of Into the Deep!

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Through the ceremonial veil, Y/N's world is one of shimmering gold.

Lysanthir leads her down a winding stairway. Down and down they swim, far into the depths of Athtar. Her head spins as they descend the slithering steps, the fabric before her eyes warping stone pillars into gilded liquid. She grips Lsyanthir's arm despite herself.

Gradually, the lights twinkle out one by one until Y/N finds herself faced with a wall of impenetrable darkness. This is where the stairs reach their end. In ancient waters of unimaginable depths. In an electric darkness shivering in anticipation.

They swim forwards.

Y/N squints, trying to force her eyes to adapt.

Beside her, Lysanthir scoffs . She turns to glare at him, only to be met with an amused smirk.

"There's no use to that," he tilts his head, examining her carefully, "This is no natural darkness."

A low crack sounds out from the gloom ahead. And despite her murdukann's self-assured demeanour, Y/N notices his shoulders tense ever so slightly. This only heightens her apprehension over what's to come.

The darkness shivers around them, an entity of its own. And it seems to be moving.

Flashes of spectral colour, otherworldly and mesmerising, begin to peak through the fog. A phosphorescence of blue swirling amongst the gloom.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut tight. The nerves must be getting to her. This isn't real. Her mind has to be playing tricks of some kind.

These thoughts are more desperate hopes than anything else. She's been in Athtar long enough to know of the ancestral magic that resides here. A mysterious power inextricably tied to Lysanthir.

Y/N purses her lips, steeling herself as she faces the darkness before her.

Wispy tendrils languidly twist and turn. Y/N's veil billows around her, the molten gold a stark contrast to the swirling black and blue. The darkness surrounds her now in a way it didn't before. Her gills tremble softly.

As the fog brushes up against her, a crackle of electricity slithers down her spine. It courses through her body, sending every nerve ending on edge. Y/N can't say it's entirely unpleasant. In fact, it stirs something deep inside of her.

Her heart flutters in her chest as exhilaration pulses through her veins. Y/N shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the strange effects these glowing waters are having on her. Her mind feels hazy, her thoughts incoherent.

The closest thing she can compare this to is the time she tried ale with the stable boys back home. She remembers the same heat flowing through her body, the same hum clouding her mind. But this is far more compelling.

She can tell Lysanthir is feeling the same effects of the electrifying darkness. His toned chest ripples, muscles rolling taut beneath his skin. His fingers brush against the small of her back and it takes everything in her to suppress a wanton moan.

Keep it together. Keep it together.

She repeats this to herself like a mantra. Ceremony or no ceremony, she's not going to let herself be seduced that easily.

Lysanthir moves to place himself behind her. Cool fingers lift her veil ever so slightly. Y/N shivers at the feeling of lips brushing against the crook of her neck. Soft, tantalising. The touch is barely there, yet at the same time sets her entire body on fire.

The darkness closes in around them, a thrilling embrace. A promise of passion, of electric intensity. It's an intoxication Y/N can't resist.

Lysanthir's lips part, his cool tongue making circles in that oh so sensitive place. Y/N gasps. Her mind goes blank as his tongue flicks gently. He nips the side of her neck now, suckling gently. Teeth graze her sensitive skin.

This is all she can focus on, all that exists for her in this moment. Strong hands grip her waist, pulling her towards him. His sharp nails dig into her sides as Y/N unconsciously grinds backwards into him. Lysanthir's gills flare. She can feel his hardness against her, hidden away for now beneath the fold in his tail. It reminds her of how inhuman he is, how alien.

A heated blush spreads across her cheeks, betraying her bashfulness.

A small part of her still fights against this, but Y/N is destined for Lysanthir. And she can't help but want it. Want his hands on her body, want to feel him all over. Want to be his. It's a sick and twisted feeling, that she'll admit. But not one she can give up.

A ripping sound rings out as his nails puncture through her dress. Y/N swallows hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling between her legs. Feral anticipation pulsates through her. It takes every ounce of will not to lean further into his arms.

Her heart hammers in her chest, drowning out the sound of her heaving breathing, the brush of Lysanthir's lips against her skin.

Lysanthir growls, a primal sound that makes Y/N weak at the knees. She shivers.

He roughly pushes her to the ground. Yelping, she throws her hands in front of her, barely breaking her landing. Lysanthir presses her down hard into the rocky floor, his body dwarfing hers. She feels so small beneath him.

Razor sharp claws shred her veil and dress, tearing them off in scraps. His nails rake down her back, leaving jagged streaks of red in their wake. Y/N lets out a cry of pain and pleasure intertwined. His rough touches send her reeling. It would be a lie to say she didn't enjoy his unhinged desire for her.

Lysanthir doesn't bother fully removing her dress, nor does he waste time with her undergarments. His need for her consumes him entirely as he unceremoniously pushes her clothing to the side.

He unsheathes himself, his hard length now pressing firmly against her. Y/N gulps at the sheer size. Even though this isn't the first time, she still doesn't know if she can take it.

His hands grip her hips, yanking her up to him as he swiftly impales her over his cock. Y/N's back arches violently. She shrieks, her body forced to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Lysanthir jerks forwards, burying himself to the hilt. She feels as though she may split in half.

Agony and ecstasy combined pulsate through Y/N. Her nails frantically dig into the stone floor, desperate for something to hold on to. Her murdukann lets out a strangled groan as he thrusts into her, his cock hitting her sensitive cervix. Y/N writhes beneath him. Her legs tremble uncontrollably.

Lysanthir shudders. One hand still grasping her hips, the other now moves to wrap around her throat. He tightens his grip and Y/N lets out a spluttered gasp. In an odd show of comfort, he lowers his head to nuzzle her cheek.

She can't believe how her body is responding, how good this feels. How right. Any doubts, any hesitations, have been banished to a corner far away.

Just as Y/N begins to adapt to the angle of his relentless pace, he grasps her by the shoulders and slams her onto her back. She quakes from the impact, her head spinning.

A profound stillness falls onto the pair, the sudden silence echoing. Y/N pants, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

With one finger, Lysanthir slowly lifts Y/N's chin to meet his gaze. His black eyes bore into hers. Inquisitive, searching for something. Y/N squirms under his penetrating stare.

Lysanthir's gaze is one of unhindered lust. Of passion and desire and of his own, warped sense of love. He has been waiting centuries for this. For her. For his mate. And now that he has her, all he wants to do is make her his, again and again until she knows who she belongs to.

He drives his length back inside her tightness, plunging all the way in. Y/N throws her head back, a choked moan escaping her lips. She clasps a hand over her mouth, trying to suppress the noises Lysanthir brings out of her.

He snarls disapprovingly, pinning her hands above her head in one deft movement.

"Don't," he whispers, "I want to hear you."

And addictive ache forms within Y/N's core as her murdukann rolls his hips, hitting every sweet spot within her. He resumes his brutal thrusts, delving as far as he can inside of her.

Undeniable pleasure builds within her core, a pressure that makes her claw at Lysanthir's back, makes her wrap her legs around his waist. His muscles grow taut, undulating with the effort of his pounding thrusts.

"Lysanthir," Y/N whimpers, his name keeling so sweetly off her tongue.

She feels the markings, the murdukann symbols painted on her, begin to burn. The fire spreads across her skin, tracing her curves. The caress pushes her over the edge.

Y/N cries out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she becomes undone. She goes limp, trembling in his embrace with a whine. As she clenches around him, she can feel Lysanthir's own climax nearing. He roars, swollen cock throbbing with every thrust into her wetness. He finally unleashes his load inside her, hot seed filling her up.

She quivers beneath him, completely and utterly at his mercy. Her senses are overstimulated, begging for a reprieve.

But he isn't done with her.

Her lids heavy with exhaustion, she barely registers Lynsathir's maw grow wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp fangs.

His jaw now gapes open, jagged teeth filling her vision. Y/N's blood runs cold. Petrified, struggling in vain against Lysanthir's iron grip.

He sinks his razor teeth deep into her neck.

She lets out an ear-splitting scream. Searing pain scalds her veins. White hot, the bite scorches her very soul. Burning up everything it comes into contact with, leaving nothing intact.

Her body seizes up, muscles constricting in panic. Her gills clamp shut. She can't breathe.

Then Y/N feels her heart stop.

An eerie silence fills her chest cavity and everything fades to oblivion.