Prologue
Prologue — The Ocean Stopped Breathing
The ocean had stopped breathing.
Nerissa had never known the sea to be silent.
Even in the dead of night, there was always a rhythm beneath the waves—a pulse she had felt since childhood.
But tonight, there was nothing.
No tide.
No wind.
No song.
Only the sound of her newborn daughter’s heartbeat.
Sweat began to slide down Nerissa’s face. She let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her body slumped back from the exhaustion of having just given birth. Hours and hours of labor to produce such a small beautiful creature. Her daughter stirred, sleeping peacefully beside her. Nerissa smiled softly and lifted the baby into her arms.
Nerissa slowly rose to her feet, the newborn cradled securely in her arms. Her gaze fell upon the Moonwell.
Something was wrong.
The two koi fish that normally drifted peacefully beneath its surface were swimming erratically, darting from one side of the pond to the other as though desperately trying to escape something Nerissa couldn’t see.
She crouched beside the Moonwell and dipped her free hand into the water, closing her eyes in concentration.
Nothing.
It was unusual. Not only could she no longer hear the distant ocean beyond the sanctuary, but she couldn’t hear the voices of her family either.
Her mother.
Her father.
No one.
Not a single voice could be heard.
It was as though they had all been erased from existence.
Nerissa reached deeper with her senses, searching for the familiar voices she had known all her life.
Her mother’s gentle voice.
Her father’s booming laugh.
The distant songs of the sirens beyond the sanctuary.
Nothing answered her.
The silence wasn’t natural.
Something had severed the sanctuary from the sea.
Nerissa’s fingers went still beneath the water.
A tremor traveled through the pond.
Her breath caught.
No.
She knew that feeling.
She had felt it only once before—in the ancient records her mother had shown her, accounts of the night Elaris had been torn apart eight centuries ago.
The silence.
The severing.
The sea forgetting its children.
Nerissa slowly looked down at the infant in her arms.
Her daughter’s silver eyes stared back at her.
It can’t be.
The First Sundering had happened eight hundred years ago.
It wasn’t supposed to happen again.
Lucien burst into the room, his eyes fixated on Nerissa crouching by the Moonwell with the newborn child in her arms. Nerissa gasped when she had noticed that Lucien was injured, blood running down his arm. She ran up to him.
“What happened?” Her eyes scanned his face for answers.
”They’re here.” Nerissa’s stomach dropped, suddenly understanding the weight of his words.
“How many?”
“Enough.”
Nerissa looked down at her daughter and froze.
The baby’s eyes were no longer silver.
Nerissa’s breath caught as the color slowly shifted beneath the infant’s delicate lashes. The outer iris deepened into the blue of the deepest ocean, while crimson slowly bled through the center like molten blood. Around each pupil remained a thin ring of silver, almost luminous against the other colors.
Nerissa stared at her daughter, unable to breathe.
The prophecy wasn’t wrong. Her heart sank. It was early.
A violent tremor suddenly tore through the sanctuary.
Nerissa instinctively curled herself around the baby as Lucien rushed toward them, shielding them as pieces of stone rained from the ceiling.
Then came the silence.
Nerissa slowly looked down at the child in her arms.
For one terrible moment, a thought entered her mind.
Is it her?
Her stomach twisted.
No.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
She’s only a child.
But another tremor shook the sanctuary, stronger than the last.
Nerissa tightened her arms around her daughter.
“The Sundering…”
Lucien looked at her, his expression hardening with realization.
“What?”
Nerissa looked toward the Moonwell.
“It’s happening again.”
For the first time since the sanctuary began to shake, Lucien had nothing to say.
He had read the accounts. He knew what the First Sundering had done to Elaris.
And the thought of it happening again after eight centuries terrified him.
Nerissa looked back at their daughter.
She wanted desperately to believe the two events were unrelated.
But her daughter had been born moments ago.
And the world had begun to break.
When the shaking finally subsided, Lucien turned toward Nerissa. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim sanctuary as he stepped closer and gently cupped her face in his hands.
“Nerissa…”
He rested his forehead against hers.
She immediately shook her head.
She knew.
She knew exactly what he was about to say.
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, slipping over his fingers.
“Lucien, you can’t.”
“I have to.”
“You’ll die.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t say that.”
He smiled sadly.
“Then don’t make me say goodbye.”
One of her tears fell onto the wound along his arm.
Lucien didn’t notice.
The wound began to close.
The torn flesh slowly knitted itself together beneath the tear, the blood disappearing as if the injury had never existed.
Nerissa stared at his arm.
She’d forgotten.
Even now, even after everything that had happened, her tears still carried the power of the sea.
“I have to try. For you and the little one’s sake.”
Nerissa stared at him through her tears.
“God, you’re so stubborn.”
A faint smile touched Lucien’s lips.
“I know.”
For a moment, they simply looked at one another.
Then their lips met in an urgent, desperate kiss.
For one brief moment, the sanctuary disappeared—the battle, the prophecy, the trembling walls. There was only him. Her. And the daughter sleeping between them.
When they finally parted, neither of them moved.
Lucien kept his forehead against hers, his hands resting gently against her cheeks.
“I’ll fend them off. In the meantime, you two need to escape through the Moonwell.”
He glanced toward the pond.
The two koi fish continued darting frantically beneath the surface, circling one another as though they sensed the chaos beyond the sanctuary walls.
“There’s a secret passage at the very bottom. Only a siren of your bloodline can open it.”
Nerissa looked toward the Moonwell, then back at him.
“But what about you? How will you escape?”
Lucien’s expression softened.
“I have my ways.”
He lowered his gaze toward the infant nestled against Nerissa’s chest.
For the first time since he’d entered the room, the fear in his eyes became unmistakable.
He reached out and gently caressed the baby’s cheek.
She stirred beneath his touch, her tiny fingers curling around one of his.
Lucien’s eyes widened slightly.
Despite how impossibly small her hand was, her grip was surprisingly strong.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“Strong little thing, aren’t you?”
The baby cooed.
Lucien smiled.
He brought her tiny hand to his lips and kissed it before pressing another kiss against her forehead.
He lingered there.
Just for a moment.
Then he slowly pulled away.
The baby immediately began to cry.
Nerissa swayed her gently in her arms, quietly shushing her as Lucien looked between them.
“I’ll be back.”
Nerissa’s heart clenched.
She knew he was trying to reassure the baby.
She also knew he was trying to reassure himself.
Lucien looked at Nerissa one last time.
Then he turned toward the entrance.
In a blur of crimson, he disappeared from the sanctuary.
Nerissa watched until Lucien’s crimson silhouette disappeared beyond the sanctuary doors.
She forced herself to look away.
There was no time.
She quickly wrapped the infant in the silver cloth, securing it carefully around her tiny body. Then Nerissa removed the amulet from around her own neck and fastened it around her daughter’s.
The silver pendant rested against the infant’s chest, glowing faintly against her skin.
Nerissa brushed a trembling finger across her daughter’s cheek.
“I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt you, my little pearl.”
She pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
With one final glance toward the sanctuary entrance, Nerissa stepped into the Moonwell.
The instant the water touched her legs, a strange pressure seized her body.
Nerissa gasped.
The bones in her legs began to shift, knitting together beneath her skin as her body transformed. Scales shimmered into existence, spreading upward as her legs fused into a long, iridescent tail.
The transformation was painful after the exhaustion of childbirth, but Nerissa forced herself to endure it.
The baby began crying harder.
“Shh… shh, my little pearl.”
Nerissa gathered her daughter tightly against her chest, keeping her face above the water as she descended beneath the surface.
The Moonwell swallowed them both.
Nerissa opened her eyes.
Below her, beneath the drifting koi and shimmering water, something enormous emerged from the darkness.
A door.
She swam toward it.
Just as Lucien had promised, the passage was there.
Nerissa reached for the handle and pulled.
Nothing.
She tried again, harder.
The door refused to move.
Panic began to creep into her chest.
“No…”
Then she noticed the markings carved into the stone.
Ancient Siren hieroglyphics covered the surface of the door.
*“I have no voice, yet I answer song. *
I have no feet, yet carry you along.
I have no door, yet doors I keep.
I wake for those who know the deep.
Speak not my name upon the shore,
But sing the words that came before.
When moon meets tide and silver gleams,
The path shall open through your dreams.”
Nerissa read it a couple more times, her brows furrowed in confusion. She didn’t understand what the words meant at first. But then she noticed something else inscribed below the riddle.
The answer is not spoken. It is remembered.
Nerissa stared at the words.
Then something inside her shifted.
She knew that sentence.
Not the words themselves.
The feeling.
A melody from childhood.
A voice that had once sung to her every night.
Her mother’s voice.
The Mother’s Song.
Before she started, she could hear the sanctuary beginning to collapse above her. She heard Lucien through the water, crying out in pain as he continued to fight off the enemies. Nerissa desperately wanted to come out of the water to help him, but she knew very well that he was trying to buy them some time for them to escape.
Her voice trembled as she began to sing.
“Hush now, little pearl of mine…”
The infant immediately stopped crying, her peculiar eyes wide as she listened and watched as her mother sang.
“Sleep beneath the silver tide,”Nerissa’s voice now becoming more confident and clearer.
“Where the moonlight meets the sea. Follow where the waters flee,”She could hear the shouts coming from inside the sanctuary now, much closer. Lucien continued to fight them off, pushing them out of the sanctuary successfully. The water began to glow around her as she neared the end of the song.
“Through the deep and through the night,Moon will guide you toward the light.When the hidden waters call,Fear no dark and fear no fall.”
Nerissa drew in a shaky breath and began the final verse.
She never got the chance to finish it.
A violent splash erupted behind her.
Nerissa spun around.
A vampire from the Crimson Court had plunged into the Moonwell.
His crimson eyes burned beneath the surface as he bared his fangs, his gaze fixed hungrily upon her.
Nerissa instinctively pulled the infant closer to her chest.
The vampire lunged.
She raised her free hand, desperately trying to summon her siren abilities, but her body betrayed her. The power she’d once wielded so effortlessly barely responded.
She was still too weak from childbirth.
Her strength had been drained almost completely.
The vampire drew closer.
Nerissa turned her body away from him, shielding her daughter with her own.
Lucien, please.
The words never left her lips.
Help us.
She reached for him through their bond, praying he could hear her.
The vampire lunged.
Nerissa squeezed her eyes shut.
Wait.
Nothing happened.
Then—
A sharp hiss pierced the water.
Nerissa opened her eyes.
The vampire’s body began to crumble before her. His flesh turned to ash, dissolving into the water until nothing remained.
And behind him stood Lucien.
His crimson eyes burned brightly as he stared at the place where the vampire had disappeared.
Nerissa’s breath caught.
“Lucien…”
He immediately swam toward her.
She wrapped her free arm around his neck the moment he reached her, pressing her face against the crook of his neck.
“You came.”
Lucien held her tightly.
“Of course I did, sweetheart.”
His hand gently stroked her wet hair.
“You called me, and I came.”
For a few precious seconds, Nerissa allowed herself to breathe.
Then Lucien pulled away.
His expression had changed.
“You need to go back.”
Nerissa’s brows furrowed.
“What?”
He gestured toward the passage beneath them.
“Finish the song.”
Nerissa stared at him.
“Aren’t you coming with us?”
Lucien hesitated.
That was enough to make her heart sink.
“I thought you took care of the Crimson Court.”
“I did.”
His eyes hardened.
“But Isolde is here.”
Nerissa went completely still.
Even beneath the water, she could feel the weight of that name.
Queen Isolde.
The Crimson Matriarch.
Lucien’s former queen.
And a woman with whom they both shared a history they would rather forget.
“She’s brought reinforcements,” Lucien continued. “More than I can handle while protecting both of you.”
Nerissa’s grip tightened around the infant.
“Then you’re coming with us.”
Lucien shook his head.
“No.”
“Lucien—”
“Nerissa.”
His voice was firmer this time.
She knew that tone.
The tone he used when there was no room left for argument.
Lucien swam toward the surface.
Nerissa followed, clutching their daughter tightly against her chest.
Lucien pulled himself from the Moonwell, water streaming from his clothes as he stood at its edge.
He turned back toward Nerissa.
“You need to go.Now.”
Nerissa stared at him.
She wanted to argue.
She wanted to stay.
She wanted to fight beside him.
But then she looked down at the tiny life sleeping against her chest.
Her daughter.
Her little pearl.
Nerissa swallowed hard.
She turned toward the Moonwell and prepared to dive beneath the surface.
But before she could—
“So it’s true.”
Nerissa’s blood ran cold.
She knew that voice.
Isolde.
Lucien immediately stepped between Isolde and Nerissa, his body shielding them both.
His crimson eyes burned with warning.
“You will not touch her. And you will certainly not lay a finger on our child.”
Isolde stopped.
For a moment, she simply stared at him.
Her gaze traveled over the vampire who had once stood at her right hand—the man who had once carried out her orders without question.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“You were always sentimental, Lucien.”
There was no affection in her voice this time.
Only bitterness.
She took a slow step toward him.
“Though I suppose I should have realized it sooner.”
Lucien’s expression remained cold.
Isolde stopped only a few feet away.
“You stopped answering when I called you Luci.”
His jaw tightened.
“Because I’m not yours anymore.”
Something dark flickered across Isolde’s face.
Her smile disappeared.
“No.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“You aren’t.”
Her eyes shifted toward Nerissa.
The warmth left her expression entirely.
“She made certain of that.”
Nerissa instinctively tightened her hold around the infant.
Isolde’s gaze settled upon the child.
“You should have known better than to hide something like this from me.”
Nerissa’s eyes narrowed.
“She’s not yours.”
Isolde gave a quiet hum.
“No.”
Her eyes remained fixed upon the baby.
“But she belongs to the future.”
Lucien’s hands curled into fists.
His eyes brightened to a violent crimson as his fangs descended.
“You will not turn our daughter into an experiment.”
Nerissa emerged from the water behind him, clutching the infant against her chest.
Silver symbols began to illuminate across her skin.
“She is not a weapon. She is not an experiment.”
Isolde’s eyes finally lifted from the child.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
Her gaze returned to the child.
“She is something the world has never seen before.”
She took another step forward.
“And you expect me to simply allow you to disappear with her?”
Lucien’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“You are not taking her.”
Isolde stared at him.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then Isolde smiled.
It wasn’t warm.
It wasn’t affectionate.
It was the smile of someone who had already decided she was going to get what she wanted.
“Then I suppose we’ll have to settle this the old way.”
Her eyes flashed crimson.
In an instant, Isolde vanished.
Nerissa barely had time to react before a blur of crimson shot past Lucien.
Isolde reached for the infant.
Nerissa recoiled, pulling the infant tightly against her chest.
But Lucien was faster.
He appeared between them in a flash, catching Isolde by the arm and violently redirecting her momentum.
The force sent her crashing into the sanctuary wall.
Stone fractured beneath her back.
Lucien stood between Isolde and his family, his fangs bared.
“I warned you.”
Taking the opportunity Lucien gave her, Nerissa dove into the depths of the Moonwell, clutching the infant tightly against her chest.
Behind her, the sanctuary shook violently.
She could still hear the battle above the water.
The impact of stone.
The sharp clash of claws.
The muffled roars of Lucien and Isolde.
But Nerissa forced herself to focus.
She reached the ancient door at the bottom of the Moonwell and placed her palm against the cold stone.
The inscription glowed faintly beneath her fingertips.
She took a trembling breath.
Then she began to sing.
“Hush now, little pearl of mine…”
The baby immediately quieted.
Her tiny eyes remained fixed on Nerissa as her mother’s voice echoed through the water.
“Sleep beneath the silver tide,Where the moonlight meets the sea.Follow where the waters flee…”
The ancient markings began to glow.
Nerissa continued.
“Through the deep and through the night,Moon will guide you toward the light.When the hidden waters call…”
Her voice trembled.
Above her, another violent impact shook the Moonwell.
Nerissa’s voice faltered.
She could feel the vibrations through the water.
Then she felt something else.
Pain.
Her eyes widened.
Not her own.
Lucien’s.
The bond between them tightened painfully around her chest.
Nerissa gasped.
“Lucien…”
She could feel his exhaustion.
His anger.
His desperation.
And beneath all of it—
Fear.
He was losing.
Nerissa immediately turned toward the surface.
She kicked upward, clutching the child against her chest.
When she broke through the water, she saw Lucien across the sanctuary.
He was on one knee.
Blood ran down the side of his face.
Isolde stood several feet away, barely breathing hard.
Nerissa’s heart dropped.
“Lucien!”
His eyes found hers.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then his voice entered her mind.
Go back. Finish the song.
Nerissa froze.
Lucien’s voice hadn’t come from his lips.
It had come from somewhere deeper—inside her mind, carried through the bond that tied their souls together.
I can’t leave you.
A pause.
Then his answer came, softer this time.
You’re not leaving me.
Nerissa’s eyes burned with tears.
You’re saving her.
Her gaze dropped to the infant in her arms.
She stared back at her, those strange blue, crimson, and silver eyes reflecting the shimmering light of the Moonwell.
Nerissa swallowed the sob threatening to escape her.
I love you.
For a moment, there was only silence between them.
Then Lucien’s voice softened inside her mind.
I know. Now go.
Nerissa’s heart clenched.
She looked toward him one last time.
Lucien gave her the smallest nod.
It was enough.
Nerissa turned back toward the Moonwell.
She dove beneath the surface.
Lucien slowly rose to his feet.
He wiped the blood from his mouth and turned toward Isolde.
“I’m not letting you take them.”
Isolde’s expression softened into something almost sorrowful.
“You already lost them once.”
Lucien froze.
Then she attacked.
He barely blocked the first strike.
The second caught his shoulder.
The third struck his ribs.
Lucien retaliated with everything he had left.
He managed to catch Isolde across the chest and send her backward.
She recovered instantly.
Lucien lunged again.
Isolde sidestepped.
She caught his arm.
Twisted.
Lucien dropped to one knee.
He tried to rise.
Isolde drove him back down.
“You always do that.”
Lucien gritted his teeth.
“Do what?”
She leaned closer.
“Protect everyone except yourself.”
Lucien roared and broke free.
He struck her across the face.
Isolde staggered.
Lucien rushed forward.
But she was already moving.
She stepped inside his attack and struck the exact point beneath his ribs where she knew his balance would fail.
Lucien’s body went rigid.
His eyes widened.
Isolde caught him before he could fall.
For one brief moment, she held him upright.
Their eyes met.
Lucien whispered:
“I hate you.”
Isolde’s expression remained unreadable.
“I know.”
She struck him across the temple.
Lucien’s body went limp.
He collapsed into her arms.
Beneath the Moonwell, Nerissa continued singing.
Her voice echoed through the ancient passage.
“If the night should steal my light,Carry her beyond its sight.Though the sea may part our way,My love will find her someday.”
The final note faded.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then the Moonwell erupted with silver light.
The ancient door beneath Nerissa’s hand began to tremble.
Stone dissolved into shimmering water.
A passage opened before her, filled with blue-white light.
Nerissa’s breath caught.
It worked.
She pulled the infant closer.
They could escape.
She began swimming toward the passage.
Then—
Something plunged into the water behind her.
Nerissa spun around.
Isolde stood beneath the surface.
Her crimson eyes burned through the darkness.
Nerissa’s heart stopped.
Isolde slowly smiled.
“Did you really think I would let you leave?”
Nerissa’s blood ran cold.
She held the infant tighter against her chest, instinctively turning her body so the infant was shielded from Isolde.
“You…”
Isolde slowly rose from the Moonwell.
Water streamed from her clothing as she stepped onto the stone floor. Her crimson eyes never left Nerissa.
Behind her, the portal continued to shimmer beneath the water.
Nerissa glanced toward it.
So close.
They were so close.
Then her gaze fell upon Lucien.
He lay motionless in Isolde’s arms.
Nerissa’s heart shattered.
“Lucien…”
Isolde looked down at him.
For a moment, something almost tender passed across her expression.
Then it disappeared.
“He’s alive.”
Nerissa’s eyes snapped back to her.
“Put him down.”
Isolde’s gaze hardened.
“You’re still giving me orders?”
“Put him down.”
Nerissa’s voice trembled, but she didn’t back away.
Isolde took a step forward.
Nerissa took one back.
“You always were brave.”
“I learned from people better than you.”
A faint smile touched Isolde’s lips.
“Still defiant.”
Her eyes moved toward the infant.
“And still protecting what belongs to you.”
Nerissa’s arms tightened around her daughter.
“She doesn’t belong to you.”
“No.”
Isolde looked at the child with an unreadable expression.
“She doesn’t.”
Her gaze returned to Nerissa.
“But you know what she represents.”
Nerissa’s eyes narrowed.
“She is a child.”
“She is the beginning of something.”
“She is my daughter.”
“And she is the reason everything is falling apart.”
Nerissa’s expression faltered.
Isolde noticed.
“You felt it, didn’t you?”
Nerissa said nothing.
“The Sundering.”
The word hung between them.
“She was born, and the world began to break.”
Nerissa’s eyes flashed silver.
“Don’t you dare put that on her.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s innocent.”
“Is she?”
Nerissa’s breathing became unsteady.
Isolde stepped closer.
“I’ve spent centuries watching our world tear itself apart. I’ve watched factions destroy one another over blood, power, and prophecy.”
Her eyes settled on the child.
“And now she appears.”
Nerissa shook her head.
“She isn’t a weapon.”
“I never said she was.”
“You called her an experiment.”
“Because that’s what they will make her.”
Isolde’s voice became colder.
“The Drowned Choir. The Guardians. The pure-blood factions. Every creature that learns what she is will want something from her.”
Nerissa stared at her.
“And you?”
Isolde paused.
“I want to control what happens next.”
Nerissa’s expression hardened.
“You want to control her.”
“I want to make sure she survives.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Isolde’s eyes narrowed.
“No.”
She glanced toward Lucien.
“Apparently, neither did he.”
Nerissa’s face fell.
Isolde continued.
“He abandoned everything for you.”
“Lucien chose me.”
“He chose you over everything he believed in.”
“He chose to become someone better.”
For the first time, Isolde’s composure cracked.
“You know nothing about what he was.”
“I know who he became.”
Silence.
Nerissa stared directly into her eyes.
“He loved you once.”
Isolde’s expression went still.
“But he chose to leave.”
The words struck deeper than any physical attack.
Isolde’s fingers tightened around Lucien.
“You took him from me.”
“I didn’t take anything.”
Nerissa’s voice softened.
“He was never yours.”
Isolde stared at her.
Then she smiled.
It wasn’t a warm smile.
It was the kind that made Nerissa’s stomach twist.
“You really believe that.”
“I know it.”
“No.”
Isolde stepped closer.
“You don’t understand.”
Her gaze drifted toward Lucien.
“He will come back to me.”
Nerissa shook her head.
“He won’t.”
“He will.”
“Not willingly.”
Isolde’s eyes returned to Nerissa.
“I never said willingly.”
Nerissa’s heart sank.
She understood the threat immediately.
“You wouldn’t.”
Isolde tilted her head.
“I already have.”
Nerissa’s eyes widened.
“You’re going to force him.”
“I am going to give him a choice.”
“What choice?”
Isolde’s expression became almost serene.
“His old life…”
She looked down at Lucien.
“…or the truth about what happened to you.”
Nerissa froze.
Isolde watched the realization spread across her face.
“You wouldn’t…”
“I know exactly what Lucien will do when he believes you are dead.”
Nerissa’s voice broke.
“Don’t touch him.”
“He’ll search for you.”
“He’ll never serve you again.”
“He doesn’t have to want to.”
Isolde’s gaze shifted toward the child.
“He only needs a reason.”
Nerissa’s grip tightened around her daughter.
“You’re a monster.”
Isolde’s expression remained calm.
“Perhaps.”
She took another step.
“But you should be more concerned with what happens when the rest of the world discovers your daughter exists.”
Nerissa backed toward the Moonwell.
The portal shimmered behind her.
Isolde noticed.
“So that’s what you were doing.”
Nerissa said nothing.
“The song.”
Her eyes flicked toward the glowing passage.
“You were trying to send her away.”
Nerissa’s silence confirmed it.
Isolde slowly extended her hand.
“Give her to me.”
“No.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ve just given birth.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’re barely standing.”
Nerissa’s eyes began glowing silver.
“I said no.”
Silver symbols began appearing across her skin.
The water around her stirred.
Isolde stopped.
For the first time, she looked genuinely cautious.
Nerissa held the infant against her heart.
“You will never touch my daughter.”
Isolde stared at her.
Then, very slowly, she smiled.
“We’ll see.”
Isolde reached for the child.
Nerissa recoiled.
“Don’t.”
Isolde’s fingers stopped inches from the child.
The infant stared at her.
Those impossible eyes—blue, crimson, and silver—held hers.
Then she lifted her tiny hand.
Her fingers curled around one of Isolde’s.
Isolde froze.
The entire sanctuary seemed to disappear.
She had expected fear.
She had expected crying.
Instead, the child simply looked at her.
As though she knew her.
Just for a moment, the Queen of the Crimson Court looked almost… lost.
“Why…”
Her voice barely escaped her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
The baby peered at her curiously.
The infant’s fingers curled around hers.
Isolde froze.
The child wasn’t afraid.
She simply stared.
Blue.
Crimson.
Silver.
Something shifted behind Isolde’s eyes.
Not tenderness.
Not love.
Something older.
Something she didn’t understand.
Her expression hardened almost immediately.
She withdrew her hand.
Her gaze returned to Nerissa.
“Take care of her.”
Nerissa blinked.
Isolde walked towards the exit with Lucien’s body in tow.
“For now.”
Then she vanished into the darkness with Lucien.
Nerissa stood frozen beside the Moonwell.
The portal still shimmered behind her.
Lucien was gone.
And for the first time since the sanctuary had begun to collapse, Nerissa realized something far more terrifying than the Sundering.
She was alone.
For several seconds, Nerissa couldn’t move.
The sanctuary had gone strangely quiet.
No fighting.
No shouting.
No Lucien.
Only the distant groaning of stone as the sanctuary continued to collapse around her.
Her eyes remained fixed on the place where Isolde had disappeared.
“Lucien…”
Nothing.
Nerissa took a step forward.
Then another.
She nearly stumbled.
Her legs were still trembling from exhaustion, her body aching from the birth and the power she had used to open the passage.
But none of it mattered.
She had to find him.
She had to bring him back.
Nerissa turned toward the direction Isolde had vanished.
“Lucien!”
She tried to run.
Her body refused.
Her knees buckled.
She caught herself against the edge of the Moonwell, clutching her daughter tighter against her chest.
The baby whimpered softly.
Nerissa looked down.
The infant’s tiny hand had curled into the silver cloth wrapped around her.
Her heart broke.
She couldn’t chase Lucien.
Not like this.
Not with her daughter in her arms.
Then the sanctuary shook again.
A massive crack tore through the ceiling.
Nerissa looked upward.
Dust and debris rained around her.
The portal.
She had almost forgotten.
It was still open.
The passage shimmered beneath the surface of the Moonwell, waiting.
Lucien had told her to go.
Even if every part of her wanted to stay.
Even if her heart screamed at her to find him.
She had to save their daughter.
Nerissa looked down at her small form.
“I’m sorry, my little pearl.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“I have to go.”
She pressed a kiss against her daughter’s forehead.
Then Nerissa stepped back into the Moonwell.
The silver light swallowed them both.
Nerissa burst through the surface of the ocean.
She gasped.
Cold saltwater filled her lungs as she struggled toward the shore, the baby held safely above the waves.
She collapsed onto the sand.
For several moments, she could do nothing but breathe.
The ocean stretched endlessly before her.
Different.
Strange.
But peaceful.
Nerissa looked down at her daughter.
The baby had stopped crying.
Her tiny fingers had curled around the silver cloth.
Nerissa smiled through her tears.
“We made it.”
For the first time that night, she allowed herself to believe it.
They were safe.
Or so she thought.
A sound came from the water behind her.
Nerissa’s smile disappeared.
She slowly turned.
The ocean was empty.
But something was moving beneath the surface.
Dark shapes.
Too many of them.
Her heart sank.
“No…”
A voice echoed through the water.
“Nerissa.”
Her blood ran cold.
She knew that voice.
The water around her began to rise.
Nerissa immediately pulled the infant against her chest.
“No. No, you can’t have her.”
The waves crashed against the shore.
Hands emerged from the water.
Nerissa tried to stand.
Her legs gave out.
She fell back onto the sand.
Her body had nothing left.
The figures approached.
“Avelune…” she whispered.
Nerissa reached toward her daughter.
Their fingers touched.
Just barely.
Avelune’s tiny hand curled around hers.
Then Nerissa’s vision blurred.
Darkness swallowed everything.
The last thing Nerissa saw before darkness consumed her was her child’s face.
Her daughter was still alive.
That was enough.
Nerissa’s eyes closed.
And the sea took her.
The next morning, the storm had passed.
The shoreline was quiet.
Mara walked along the beach, her footsteps sinking into the damp sand. The ocean stretched before her, calm now, its waves gently brushing against the shore.
Then she heard it.
A song.
Mara stopped walking.
The melody was soft—almost too faint to hear beneath the sound of the waves.
She turned toward the ocean.
There was no one there.
Yet the singing continued.
A woman’s voice.
Gentle.
Melancholic.
Almost as though the sea itself were singing.
Mara stepped closer to the water.
“Hello?”
The singing continued.
She searched the shoreline, looking for someone hidden among the rocks or perhaps farther out in the water.
Nothing.
The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Mara frowned.
She had never heard a melody like it before.
And yet…
Something about it felt strangely familiar.
The final notes drifted across the water.
Then silence.
Mara stared at the ocean.
“That’s… strange.”
A faint cry suddenly broke through the silence.
Mara spun around.
Her heart dropped.
Near the edge of the tide sat a small bundle wrapped in silver cloth.
She ran toward it.
“Hello?”
The crying grew louder.
Mara fell to her knees beside the bundle.
A baby.
A newborn girl.
Alone.
She looked around frantically.
There was no one else.
No footprints leading toward the water.
No boat.
No sign of a mother.
“Where did you come from?”
The baby cried harder.
Mara immediately scooped her into her arms.
“Hey… hey, it’s okay.”
The infant continued to cry, her tiny face scrunching as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Mara instinctively held her closer.
And then she remembered the melody.
Without thinking, she began to hum it.
The same melody she had heard moments earlier.
The baby went silent.
Mara froze.
She looked down at the infant in her arms.
The little girl stared back at her with wide, silver eyes.
Mara continued humming.
The infant’s tiny fingers curled around hers.
Something about the moment made Mara’s chest ache.
She didn’t know why.
She didn’t know the song.
She didn’t know where the baby had come from.
And she certainly didn’t know why the ocean had been singing it.
But somehow, this child knew the melody.
Mara looked toward the water.
The waves rolled gently against the shore.
Nothing answered her.
She looked back down at the baby.
“You’re freezing.”
Mara pulled the silver cloth more securely around her.
“I’ve got you.”
The infant rested against her chest, finally peaceful.
Mara stood and began walking home.
Behind her, the ocean remained perfectly still.
But far beneath the waves, something ancient stirred.
And somewhere within its depths, the final echo of the Mother’s Song disappeared into the darkness.
