Aerin POV
The depths opened like a living cathedral.
As we descended past the final veil of darkness, the sea itself seemed to exhale—and suddenly, light bloomed all around us.
Not harsh. Not blinding.
Alive.
The Abyssal Capital rose from the ocean floor in vast, sweeping arcs of living stone and coral, its structures grown rather than built. Towers curved like ribs of some ancient leviathan, etched with glowing runes that pulsed in slow, steady rhythms. Bioluminescent vines cascaded from balconies and bridges, their soft blues and golds drifting gently in the currents like strands of fallen stars.
I forgot to breathe—until I remembered I no longer needed to.
Forests of sea-lilies swayed below us, their translucent petals opening and closing as we passed. Massive kelp trees stretched upward, their fronds wide enough to shelter entire schools of fish that scattered at our approach in flashes of silver and teal.
Creatures moved everywhere.
Some were familiar—sleek reef-fish, spiraling rays, pods of luminous dolphins that circled curiously before darting away. Others were not. Long-bodied beings with glassy wings glided between spires. Armored crustaceans the size of horses crawled slowly along the stone paths below. I glimpsed eyes watching from shadowed arches—intelligent, assessing, respectful.
People.
Merfolk of every shape and hue paused as we passed.
Some bowed. Some stared openly.
All of them felt the bond.
It rippled outward from us in visible waves—magic reacting to magic, the city itself responding. The glow of the runes brightened as if recognizing something long absent.
They know, I thought, a tremor of vulnerability tightening my chest.
They remember, Noctyrr replied, his presence steady and darkly reassuring. You are written into this place.
Caelum drew closer, his arm tightening possessively around my waist as though daring the city to look too closely. And they will learn to kneel, he added, fierce and unapologetic.
Heat pooled low in my stomach at the contrast—at how easily they flanked me, how naturally I fit between them, as though the space had always been mine.
We moved through the city in a slow, deliberate procession, passing through archways carved with scenes that made my breath hitch.
A woman standing between two crowned figures.
Hands intertwined.
A bond etched into stone.
This is why, I realized suddenly. This is why the Echo feels older than memory.
The path curved upward, leading us away from the public avenues and into a quieter district where the light softened and the water felt… thicker. Heavier with intention.
"Our quarters," Caelum said aloud, his voice reverberating gently through the water.
I turned my head slightly, brushing against his shoulder. "You mean yours."
Ours, Noctyrr corrected calmly.
The structure before us was set apart from the others—built into the side of a colossal stone formation, half palace, half sanctuary. Wide terraces spiraled around it, overgrown with flowering coral and soft-glowing moss. The entrance was marked not by guards, but by a seal etched directly into the stone.
The same spiraling mark that glowed faintly on my skin.
I swallowed.
"You planned this," I said quietly.
Caelum's grip softened—not loosening, but grounding. "Not at first."
Images flowed into me through the bond—unbidden, intimate.
Two kings at war with each other and the sea itself. A temporary truce. A ritual chamber prepared not for romance, but for survival. A shared space born of necessity, not desire.
We were meant to share the Chosen, Noctyrr said, the truth steady and unflinching. The vow demanded it. The sea demanded it.
Caelum's emotions bled through next—resentment, confusion, a hunger he hadn't known how to name. It took time to realize the bond didn't divide us. It… completed us.
The doors parted soundlessly as we approached, responding not to their presence—but to mine.
Inside, the space opened into a vast chamber flooded with warm, golden light. The walls were smooth and dark, veined with softly glowing mineral lines. A pool occupied the center, its surface mirror-still, steam curling upward in slow spirals.
This place felt… intimate. Lived in. Waiting.
I felt it then—the full weight of their attention.
Caelum's gaze tracked every breath I took, every subtle shift of my body as I drifted forward, awareness sharpening into something dangerously close to need. Noctyrr watched more stillly, but the intensity of his focus was almost unbearable, as if he were memorizing me on a cellular level.
The bond pulsed.
Not demanding.
Inviting.
"You don't have to decide anything tonight," Caelum said, voice low, roughened by restraint.
Noctyrr stepped closer, close enough that I felt the heat of him even through the water. "But you are here," he said softly. "And the bond will respond."
Their hands found me—not possessive, not claiming—but present. One at my back, one at my hip. Anchors. Temptations.
My breath stuttered as sensation bloomed—heightened, electric, impossible to ignore. The sea hummed around us, walls glowing brighter in response, as though the space itself approved.
I realized then why this place existed.
Not as a throne room.
Not as a battleground.
But as a convergence.
A space built for three hearts, not two.
For a vow that was never meant to be borne alone.
I closed my eyes, letting myself feel them—both of them—through the bond, through the water, through the quiet certainty settling into my bones.
Whatever my mother had tried to escape…
Whatever fate waited ahead…
This place had been waiting for me.
And so, it seemed, had they.