Page 3 of In Violent Waves

She loved her tail, loved how powerful and graceful she could streak through the water and to the sanctuary of the reef.

The slamming of King Auris’s trident brought her out of her daydreams. He struck it two more times, and the sound brought forth immediate silence from the crowd.

“Tidal Tithe is upon us!” His voice boomed throughout the room. It rattled the crystal champagne glasses spread across tables, the glasses bewitched to keep the champagne inside, and the tower of vials set up for the rite. “To honor the ancestors before us and the mighty Ennosidas, our blessed thirteen maidens head to the surface this evening. I know they will do each of us proud.” He threw Lyra a sneer masked as an adoring smile. She stifled a snort. Her selection as a maiden was guaranteed as the daughter of the king, but the others had entered a lottery. Though it wasn’t truly a lottery. They had all bought their way in, just as Lyra had won through nepotism. “As always, each maiden must sacrifice a heart by first light. Fail, and you will be cursed to walk the land forever. Choose any mortal you wish—man, woman, or child. But not royalty.”

A hush fell over the crowd before the murmurings began.

His eyes scanned the hall, falling onto the two mermaids who scuttled in late, Seraphina and Marina, the closest things Lyra had to friends. They were night and day. Seraphina was the epitome of the day. Fair hair, fair skin, pale eyes. Marina was the night. Black hair, umber skin, and dark eyes.

“Under no circumstances,” the king continued, “may you engage with any elf you see on land. And if they realize what you are—Ennosidas have mercy on your soul.”

With that foreboding warning and a final strike of his trident, the speech ended.

Lyra rose from her small driftwood chair, trying her best to float out of his line of sight without him realizing she was gone.

“Do not deviate from the two marked paths,” he said, not once taking his eyes off the crowd in front of him. The maidens swam single file to the golden table set up with amber vials. One small vial and your tail splits in two, and legs emerge. Lyra had heard it was excruciating, but no one had ever refused to take part.

She halted, squeezing her lips together over her razor-sharp teeth. “Of course.”

“Of course,what?”

“Of course, Father,” she drew out each syllable as she raised her chin.

The only bit of defiance she could muster.

He came closer, grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger so he could lower it. Lyra locked her muscles in place to keep herself from trembling. His eyes beseeched hers, and it was an effort to weather that gaze.

“My favorite daughter, things will be better soon,” he whispered.

It had been a long-standing promise. That those “things” would be better.

At first, the promise had meant more independence or more books, but now it rang hollow. Nothing would change. He would continue ordering, demanding her obedience like he did to all the others in his realm.

A throat clearing nearby halted the tension bubbling between them.

Drystan waited beside the throne, bowing low in supplication. His emerald-green tail flicked with impatience.

“King Auris,” Drystan crooned with forced respect. “Might I have a moment with my intended before she goes topside?”

His leering smile set Lyra’s teeth on edge. His coiffed golden hair didn’t ripple at all in the current, and the dimple in his chin would be the perfect place for her to pierce through his skull with her favorite dagger.

“Of course,” the king replied, gesturing with a smirk. “She’s all yours.”

All yours.

As if she were property to be bought and owned. Lyra’s shoulders rose imperceptibly at the arrogance of it all. She was not property, a bartered womb for the taking.

No—she was the ocean.

Unattainable, unruly, and vast.

Drystan didn’t wait before seizing her arm and dragging her behind a pillar.

“Ouch,” she mumbled as he tightened his grip.

He pinched the freshly healed skin on the inside of her arm. The damage he had caused. If she hadn’t been ordered to murder him on their wedding night, she would have attempted it then.

“You are not to make a fool of me tonight.”