Page 77 of Wicked Depths

Then, a slow chuckle rumbles in his chest. “And what is the price of a siren’s loyalty?”

I lift my hand between us, palm up, magic thrumming at my fingertips, waiting. “A bargain.”

Aldric’s eyes narrow slightly, but he does not refuse.

I let my fingers dance along his wrist, nails scraping lightly over his pulse. “You will have my aid. My power. My creatures. And in return, you will give me exactly what I want.”

His voice is low, almost dangerous. “And what is that?”

I smile, slow and dark, the hunger twisting through me as I meet his gaze. “Victory. By sunrise.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. “And if I fail?”

My smirk widens, and I let my tentacles slither down my arms, curling around his wrist, pulling his hand into mine. “Then your soul belongs to me.”

He exhales slowly, watching me carefully, but I see it—the flicker of arrogance, the unwavering confidence of a man who has never known true defeat.

He thinks he will win.

He always does.

Aldric lifts his hand, palm up, accepting my terms.

“Done.”

Magic snaps between us, thick as the tide, binding the words, sealing the promise.

A bargain. A deal forged in war and blood and whispered ambition.

Aldric does not yet realize his fate was decided the moment he let me through his gates.

Chapter

Nineteen

NYXARA

The scent of smoke and steel thickens the air, curling through the war chamber like a living thing, seeping into the stone walls as if the castle itself knows what is coming. Hours have passed since Vaela left me for the human king, and in her wake, the tension here has only grown heavier. The torches lining the room flicker wildly, shadows dancing across the high ceiling, casting jagged shapes against the polished obsidian war table.

I stand at the head of it, my claws drumming against the carved map of my lands, my gaze fixed on the markers representing the human army. Too many. The number grates against my patience, the reality of their audacity curdling like bile in my throat.

They have moved faster than anticipated. Hundreds—no, thousands—of the king’s soldiers now stand on my soil, tainting it with their filth, desecrating what does not belong to them. Their swift advance cannot be coincidence. The ache of betrayal twists in my chest when I think of the one who undoubtedly guided their way.

And she helped them.

Vaela.

My jaw tightens, my claws digging into the edges of the table, leaving deep gouges in the polished obsidian.

She knew everything—every flaw in my walls, every shift in my defenses. All of it, she offered up to him like a prize. The siren who wrapped herself around me like silk, who whispered against my skin, who made me believe I could trust her.

But it was all a lie. From the moment she arrived, she was looking for anything she could use—every vulnerability, every secret. And the moment she tore apart our contract, voiding it and every promise within, I should have known. She freed herself from any bond or obligation, from any semblance of loyalty.

I slam my hand down onto the table, magic crackling at my fingertips, seething through the stone. I will not be weak. Not for her. Not for anyone.

Morrin stands across from me, wings tucked tightly to his back, his expression unreadable, though I feel his judgment like a blade at my throat.

Over the past few days, reports of skirmishes along the borders have poured in—small battles that left blood staining the forest floors, charred remnants of villages smoldering in the distance. My scouts and patrols return exhausted but determined, their eyes shadowed with too many nights spent on constant alert.

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