Page 9 of Wicked Depths

The heat curling low in my stomach is anger, I tell myself. Nothing more. My claws tighten against the bench, stone dust crumbling beneath my grip.

"Vaela of the Abyss," I growl, my voice dark with unspoken fury, "give me the power to destroy the king. To protect my lands. To crush my enemies beneath my feet."

Her lashes lower, half-lidded, predatory.

"And what will you give me in return?" she whispers, her voice like a slow tide pulling me under.

The words I should speak are simple. A debt to be paid. A price to be named. But I am not a fool. I can make this bargain. I can take her power, use it to end this war.

And then?

Then I will keep her here. Hold her prisoner until the end of time if I must. Then I will never have to pay.

"Name your price," I say instead, voice cool, unreadable.

Vaela’s smirk widens, wicked and knowing. The air between us shifts, magic thickening, the deal settling into place like a second heartbeat. She lifts her hand, pressing two fingers against my chest, right over my heart.

"You," she murmurs.

A spark ignites beneath my skin.

I keep my expression blank. "Elaborate."

Her nails trail downward, slow and deliberate. "I don’t just give my magic away, Dragon Queen.Youwill be bound to me as much as I am to you."

Something dark and twisting curls inside me. She is trying to trap me. But she underestimates who she is dealing with.

I let my lips curve into a slow, wicked smirk. “Then do it, little siren. Bind us.”

I lean in, closing the space between us until our breaths tangle—hers, slightly uneven, mine controlled. Her scent is salt and shadow, dark and intoxicating. I watch the flicker of challenge in her icy-blue eyes, the way she waits, expecting me to hesitate.

I don’t.

“But know this,” I murmur, my voice dipping into something low and lethal. "Even after I have what I need, you will never be free of me."

A sharp gleam flares behind her smirk—not fear, but something darker, something eager.

"Careful, Dragon Queen," she purrs, tilting her chin up in defiance. "That almost sounds like a promise."

I let my claws trail along her jaw, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she stills beneath my touch.

"It is."

The magic settles between us, thick and oppressive, wrapping around our bodies like an unseen tide. It pulses, ancient and hungry, demanding to be sealed.

Vaela exhales, slow and satisfied, as if she had already won.

She hasn’t.

A sudden surge of power crackles between us, and a contract appears.

The parchment is not made of ink and paper—it is woven from the very magic that binds our deal. The words glow an eerie silver, shifting like liquid across the dark surface, written in a language older than kingdoms, older than the sea itself.

Vaela lifts a delicate hand, tracing the glowing letters with her fingertip. Her magic lingers in the air, coaxing, waiting. “Sign it, Dragon Queen,” she murmurs, her voice a dark, velvety command. “Or are you afraid of what happens when you’re bound to me?”

I huff a low, mocking laugh, reaching for the dagger at my hip. "I fear nothing, siren."

With one smooth motion, I press the tip of the blade to my palm and drag it across my skin. Green fire seeps from the wound instead of blood, the raw essence of my magic pooling at the surface. Vaela watches, enraptured, her breath catching just slightly.

---