A Sea of Broken Dreams

Trigger Warning: This is a dark romance that involves non-consensual sexual activities, dubious consent, and brutal abuse scenes that involve torture and mutilation.

I open my eyes and see blue splotches and shifting black spots as my eyes adjust to the sun. My eyes are painfully swollen as I attempt to access my surroundings. I bellow out in pain as I feel shards of glass slide down my throat as I try to swallow. My mouth is like cotton, my head throbs, and I have lips so dry they rival sandpaper. I'm itchy, freezing cold, and my mind is numb. Powdery, silky, scratchy grains stick to my damp body and sift through my fingers as I grab fistfuls. Sand, I realize using all the strength I have to sit on my hunches. As my eyes begin to adjust, I see that I am on a beach. I desperately need water. Water has always been my solace, my cure, my everything. I begin to crawl through the white sand to the crystal clear water of the shoreline. Ignoring the burning pain scorching through my body, I crawl until my lungs are shrieking and on fire until I touch the water.

The water is cool against my hands as I wash the sand off. I cup my hands, filling them with water, bringing them to my brittle and bloodied lips to quench my thirst. I lap it up as if I'm a dog not getting enough of it as it calms the pain of my cottonmouth. I close my eyes and feel a sense of calm start to settle in my body. The water is always my salvation and savior. I peer down into it and feel tears well in my eyes as I take in my battered appearance. My reflection in the water shows me a young woman that is nothing but a stranger to me. The woman reflected back to me; the left side of her face is black and blue, her lips are bloodied, her hair is wild, and she has hand marks that are so defined around her neck it's like they're permanently tattooed into her skin. I look down at my tattered red evening gown that barely covers my body. A flood of tears streams down my face as I inspect every bruise, scrape, and tender spot on me. It's as if I've gone a few rounds with Muhammad Ali.

Those assholes abused my body, took what wasn't theirs, and left me for dead. But fate had other plans for me. Evil plans. Yet, I survived the torment of my captors, who dumped me overboard to die at sea. The night of my eighteenth birthday is a total blur to me. Like many Oceana Princesses before me, I turned eighteen, and my trek led me to the kingdom on land surrounded by the Oceana sea. I was given a room in the kingdom, bathed, and styled to appear regal. I was escorted to the ballroom, and I felt my body begin to tingle, my nipples began to ache, and my core became wet. I was drawn to my mate, but I couldn't believe the brutality he had in store for me. He stood tall, with dark, beautifully styled hair and eyes the color of gold. He danced with me, made me laugh, and practically poured champagne down my throat while telling me to "live a little".

My head began to swim like never before as I stumbled away from the ballroom; he took hold of my arm, gave me a broad, perfect smile, and whispered in my ear that "I could trust him". Stupidly, I believed those deceitful words as he led me to my demise. My mate walked me out of the castle, onto a yacht, and threw me into a room below deck. I fought him like hell as he ripped my gown, tore off my panties, and painfully forced his dick into my body. Once he was done, he let his friends in, throwing me to the side like a fucktoy. I remember the smirk and bleakness of his eyes as he told them, "Have fun, boys". I vaguely recall what transpired next before being dumped into the sea like discarded garbage.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks, immersing myself in the cool water, reveling in the waves caressing my body, soothing it of its physical pain. I try to put that horrendous night out of my mind as I float on my back. I have no time for my sorrows. I have no time for self-pity. I desperately need to think of a plan. A plan of survival because my callous father, Tane, King of Oceana, will not welcome home a failure. I close my eyes, allowing the water to lull me as my tired battered eyes droop close. My serenity doesn't last long when I hear a crackle of thunder accompanied by a burst of lightning in the sky. I wake up to a beautiful melody being hummed in my ear. My eyes grow wide in confusion as I find myself being pulled underwater while the humming gets louder, the melody becoming only clearer.

Should I even waste my time with a fight? Or should I just allow my fate to take its course? I am tired of fighting, and the melody is so mesmerizing. I allow myself to be pulled further into the deep sea abyss, becoming hypnotized by the beautiful voice. My eyes grow wide with shock as I come face to face with a breathtakingly striking siren. Her flawless skin is the color of nutmeg, her hair falls around her shoulders in an ice blue curtain of cascading waves, and her eyes are a beautiful shade of silver. Taking in my surroundings, I am surrounded by gorgeous sirens with ice blue hair and silver eyes. I feel a lump in my throat. Oh, no. There's no fucking way. I had heard rumors of these creatures. They were monsters of our nightmares and folktales. Oceanaians tell their young as threats for misbehavior. But they were beautiful, mesmerizing, alluring creatures that drew me into their circle. I shake my head, trying not to get caught up in the hypnotic beauty of it all. I swallow hard, my thoughts racing, trying to figure out what these gorgeous creatures could want with me.

 “Princess Nalani of Oceana. You have failed to secure your mate and bridge the people on land with those that live under the sea. Do you know what happens to mermaids that don't find, woo, or breed with their mates," the beautiful siren with the dazzling voice sings to me. I feel my breaths become shallow. My head begins to throb because I cannot believe this would be my fate. No one had prepared me for this reality; it was all hearsay because no Oceana royal mermaid, to my knowledge, hadn't been able to secure her place in the bed of a human king. A single tear slides down my face because my mate was a villainous man out to destroy me. I shudder with the thoughts, not allowing my mind to wander to the night of my eighteenth birthday. The siren begins to sing while waving her palm across my face. My body tingles as my legs transform into a shimmery sapphire blue mermaid tail. It differs from my lilac and royal purple ombre tail that was a part of me for eighteen years. The ruined scraps of my red ball gown disintegrate into a million sparkling pieces like embers of a fire. My bare breasts and midriff become covered with long thick locks of wavy ice-blue hair. She twists her hand in a circle, and my body writhes in pain, and I scream as she ultimately begins transitioning me from a mermaid to a siren.

I had failed my people; this was my punishment. I now understand my punishment for failure was inevitable. It's a fate worse than I could ever imagine.

But mark my words. There will be revenge!

One year later…

I lounge on a rock as I flip my tail back and forth, soaking up the much-needed sun rays. I can't help but smile as I listen to the gossip and laughter of the other sirens around me. Over the past year, I had become acclimated with my life as a siren and had assimilated well into my new cove of loved ones on Siren Island. As I lift my face to the sky, I think this year could have been a tragedy; but these women saved me with their community after the trauma I'd experienced on my eighteenth birthday. I had spent a whole year honing my skills, mastering my new powers, and of course, plotting my beautiful vengeance.

"What's put that grin on your face, Nalani," Halia questions, playfully splashing me with water. I splash her back, laughing. Halia has quickly become my best friend. She was the siren that summoned me under the sea with her beautiful voice. She sang one of the siren songs to me after I had washed up battered and tainted onto the deserted beach. Halia quickly became my mentor, helping me grow into my powers and abilities as a Siren. I had her to thank for how quickly I took to my powers, the powers that I cannot wait to try out. If anything, my bitterness had taught me that revenge would be best served cold. One year of letting those men, the spawns of Satan's ball-sack, get comfortable thinking they had won. That they had nothing to worry about after what they did to me. But I hadn't forgotten. Hell, they probably didn't think that I was even alive. Each of the sirens that I've grown to love has their own story of betrayal and heartache at the hands of their mate, but none as wicked as my tale.

Not only did I hate the human royalty of Oceana but also the royalty that lived undersea. Words could not even come close to describing how seething with anger I was with my father. How could he send me off half-cocked to the palace on land without telling me everything I needed to know to succeed at my tasks? It's as if he set me up for failure, which hurt even more than the nightmare I survived at the hands of my mate and his friends. For eighteen years of my life, the man I had known as my protector had failed me the one time I needed him the most. It wasn't until I began my life as a siren that I learned about the ancient peace treaty between those that lived on land and the merfolk. Apparently, wars between the land and sea went on for centuries causing many fatalities for both. Until a mermaid and a prince fell in love and united the kingdoms, which declared peace between the two worlds, allowing them to coexist in harmony. Too bad the fairytale that Halia fed me was too good to be true. The most crucial part of the treaty that no one ever shares is that if a mermaid of royal lineage doesn't succeed at securing her mate, she's damned to a life of exile and peril. This tidbit is how my circle of sisters came into existence. The outcast mermaids formed a community, what is now known as Siren Island when our land counterparts schemed to find a way around the treaty.

Sirens are an existing band of beautiful fools with broken dreams, a deep heartache accompanied by a wounded soul, and a strong drive to wreak havoc on evil individuals. Today would be my day to wreak my havoc as a siren on the land people that chose to destroy me. It's been one long year for me, only to get angrier and more bitter with each passing day. Soon enough, those men would know how it feels to be lured like a fool into false security, not realizing they were about to breathe their last breaths.

"Earth to Nalani. Hello, is anyone home," Halia jokes, swiping her hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention. I focus back on her as I push away from the rock and begin swimming more into the center of the sea. Halia waves her hands above her head as she screams, "Hey! Where are you going?"

Before diving into the sea, I turn to face her with a shit-eating grin on my face. I answer with pure glee, "I'm about to dance with the devil for a date with some spawns of Satan."

I wake up to the sun beaming through the window, temporarily blinding me as I yawn. I look around at my surroundings, finding myself in a small room with a twin-size bed. I feel my body flood with happiness, knowing that I'm back in the Oceana palace. This time I'm not in a grandiose room like the day before my eighteenth birthday but in what I assume is the hired help's quarters. I sit up in the bed, tossing back the cover and revealing two smooth caramel legs to myself. I wiggle my toes, laughter falling from my lips. I rush over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room to look at my appearance.

I'm the average height of a human woman with very generous curves to make any hot-blooded man drool. My eyes are a shade of lilac that matches my original mermaid tail but are nothing like the deep chocolate eyes I had in my mermaid and past human form. My hair is a long straight ashen blonde, also nothing like my ice blue or dark luscious raven black mane of my past selves. The water sorcerer did not disappoint, I think with delight. I'm a fucking knockout! There's a knock on my door, and then a small woman with gray hair enters.

"Get dress, Marigold, and stop being vain! The queen is very sick, and you're needed in her quarters, this instant," the woman reprimands me, tapping on a watch, throwing my clothes at me, and hightailing it out of my room. I rush around my space, splashing water on my face, cleaning my teeth, and quickly getting dressed. I run down the corridor of the long hallway to catch up with the older woman so I can make my way into the queen's chambers. I enter the queen's apartment, and I'm taken aback by the beauty of it all. A tinge of pain and anger hits me because once upon a time, all of this beauty and luxury was supposed to be mine, but her evil son didn't want that to happen. I close my eyes, shaking away my fairytale dreams as we enter the queen's grandiose bedroom. She's a frail, sickly older woman, yet the queen still radiates beauty even on her deathbed.

The day is long and taking care of the queen is grueling labor. However, it serves its purpose as I get the ability to flirt with the different men that come in and out of the room. As my dutiful day draws to a close, I manage to run into two of my targets that invite me out to a local pub tonight to hang out. At the end of my shift, I rush back to my room, shower, throw on a salaciously sexy red dress, and head out to meet these men. They have no idea that this will be their last night out on the town. I hope these boys enjoy it because I know I will. My heart feels with joy as I sashay out of the castle and down the road because revenge is best served cold. Yes, indeed!

Last night was quite the night. I drank, danced, lured the two men into a false sense of security, and casually snapped their necks, leaving their gratifying corpses in an alley behind the bar. Man! Men are so easily misled when they believe easy pussy is involved. Those two didn't see it coming as they threw me against the pub wall, one kissing my neck while I spread my legs for the other one to massage my clitoris. Their expressions were priceless when I began my dirty talk, only to let subtle little gems drop that I was the Princess they'd destroyed only a short time ago. Last night, they learned it's not all fun and games when the rabbit has the gun. Today, I am back in the queen's suite sitting by her bedside, checking her vitals, and reading a murder mystery to pass the time of my shift. I had heard some talk outside the queen's doors about some of the kingdom's noblemen being attacked and killed last night, but none were the wiser that it could possibly be the little bittersweet nursemaid tending to the queen's deathbed.

My nipples become taut, the room's temperature rises, and I feel my core become wet with desire. I suck in my breath as I hear footsteps approach the queen's bedroom door. Oh, shit! I feel my body tremble with fear even though I feel the sexual arousal course through my body like at the ball on my eighteenth birthday, but stronger. Could I be so lucky that the devil himself was about to make an appearance without me having to seek him out? But my shoulders sag in relief as I come face to face with a flustered beautiful man. His steel-blue eyes search my eyes with shock. His deep, piercing blue eyes feel with desire as his teeth bite down on his sexy plump bottom lip. He masks his expression to look aloof as he rubs the back of his flustered neck.

"Hi," I manage to squeak out, averting my eyes from his broad, muscular frame casually dressed in a short white sleeve button-down and tight indigo blue skinny jeans. He doesn't respond, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, crossing his ankles, and leaning over the door frame as he gives my body a casual once over of male appraisal. I feel my body heat under his gaze, and my soaking wet core aches to feel this stranger's manhood between my thighs. I close my eyes and a flash of that terrible night crosses my mind feeling me with shame. Crippling shame. The guilt of what happened that night. The shame of my body feeling lust for another human male. I walk over to the queen's bedside to check her vitals and administer her pain medication through her IV bag.

"How is she," he asks gruffly, still not moving from his spot. I change out the damp cloth on her forehead for a newer one, stroking back her hair from her face.

"Not well. Nothing's changed," I say as I take my place back in the armchair near her bed. My breath hitches in my throat as he comes to stand closer to me.

"So, you're the new healer? Hm, I wasn't expecting someone so, s-s-s-o-," the handsome man stumbles over his words, making my mouth go dry as I get a whiff of the delectable scent of rosewood and his natural musk.

"Quickly." I finish his sentence to get my mind off of the sexual heat that's been set aflame between us, "So Young?"

Ha. No, I was going to say beautiful. I hear his thoughts subconsciously utilizing my telepathy.

"Um, no. Well, yes. Young and you're quite the beauty," He says dotingly like we're not strangers. I lift my head to try to read the thoughts between those steel-blue eyes, but I feel like we're levitating toward one another due to the strong magnetic sexual attraction between us. His soft pout is only inches from mine, making my heart race, but not with fear—my heart races with anticipation and the want for him to kiss me. I want to know what his mouth tastes like as he delves his tongue down my throat in exploration.

"That’s quite forward, don’t you think,” I question flirtatiously, causing him to give me a genuine laugh that’s a melody to my ears. My sex mushed brain is delighted by it, and I feel a small part of the brick wall around my heart crumble. I feel shocked, seize my body, and worry clambers up my throat. Come on, Nalani, hold it together. He’s fucking hot, but you can’t let him deter you from the task at hand. The act of revenge you’ve been seeking for years. I glance over his face trying to remember if he’s one of the men from that night. But, nothing about his features is brought to my meticulous recollection. He has to be of high ranking or noble blood to just waltz into the queen’s quarters so easily.

“What are you reading,” he asks curiously, picking the book up from my lap. The heat from his body and the gentle brush of his knuckles across my thighs sends maddening pulses through my engorged clitoris. I clench my thighs together for some relief. I watch him skim the page that I am reading and then turn over the book to look at the cover. Small sweet, timid smile tugs at the corners of his lips before he states, “Morbid, don’t you think? To be reading a murder mystery at the bedside of someone that’s barely clinging to life.” I didn’t think about that when I chose this murder mystery. I slump my shoulder in dismay. Damn it. Now, I’ve offended someone and will probably lose this job, making my tasks all the more difficult. I curse Poseidon’s name under my breath for my stupidity. My skin warms under his touch when he tilts my face towards him with his index finger. He has a perfect bone structure that vaguely resembles someone I’ve met before in a past life. Could he be one of the men I shipwrecked when honing my Siren abilities during a grisly storm? He has dirty blonde curls that flop over his forehead like sexy bed hair. His black-rimmed glasses would look dorky on anyone else, but, on him, they do not. In fact, the glasses make him look like Clark Kent. He’s so damn sexy, and his beauty hurts my eyes.

His head dives towards mine, his lips crashing with mine making all the breath leave my body. He guides our kiss with his soft full lips taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth when he elicits a moan of pleasure from my lips. Unlike my first kiss on the night of my eighteenth birthday, which was rough and punishing, this mysterious man’s kiss is sweet, passionate, yet soft. One hand holds my face gently in place while the other soothingly plays with the baby hairs at the nape of my neck. Startled, he pulls back, leaving my body ablaze and my mind clouded with longing. Longing for more. Longing for his hot wet mouth to suck my tight erect nipples. Longing for his hands to slide through the slick folds between my thighs, and what’s most scary is my longing for him to ride my body until I’m shattering my release all over his hard dick.

“God! There’s something about you. My apologies; this isn’t the place for me to be doing this. Not at my mother’s sick bed,” the gorgeous man exclaims heading towards her bedroom door. Without a backward glance, I hear the heavy door slam shut, leaving me to gather my wayward thoughts and compose myself. I walk across the room and stare at my disheveled appearance in the mirror. My lips are swollen from his passion, my cheeks flustered, and my pupils are still blown with desire. “Hey, come to my chambers for dinner tonight,” the familiar voice of the handsome stranger demands. I feel panic rise through my body, and I wipe the sweat from my palms down the skirt of my sundress.

“No, I don’t even know who you are. That kiss was crazy and fucking stupid. I’m not coming to a strange man’s room to have dinner with him. I’m here to make the queen as comfortable as possible while still with the royals. Not to whore me out to elitist jackasses,” I shout at him, watching the desire in his eyes turn to seething fury. I grab my sweater and book off the chair, bolting past him and out the bedroom before he can catch me.

I have a mission. I am not throwing away the revenge I’ve obsessed over since that dreadful night be derailed for a night of potentially great sex. Sex ruined my plans one time but never again will it have power over me.

I have three targets left on my list. During lunch, today, one of them invited me out for an evening walk in the palace gardens. However, my plans to meet this target were short-lived. As I was putting the finishing touches on my appearance, I was manhandled by two guards and carried through the palace against my will. I felt like shitting my pants during the whole experience until I was plopped at the feet of the strange man that had kissed me earlier today. Goodness, even his feet are sexy! I rise to sit on my haunches, gazing up at him as he peers down at me. So, this stranger was powerful if he could snap his fingers and have me summoned. Well, I’m no longer Princess Nalani of Oceana merfolk. I’m just Marigold, a lowly healer.

“As much as I enjoy seeing you on your knees, please stand up,” he jokes while I stay frozen on my knees in front of him with my mouth gaping open from his crude comment. Yes, his comment was crazy, but it sent heat flaring through my body. If he whipped out his manhood at this moment, I would wrap my mouth around it without hesitation and let him pound and gag me with it as it beat the back of my throat. For Poseidon's sakes, what the fuck was wrong with me? The man grabs my elbow, propelling me to my feet.

“Why the fuck am I here,” I tactlessly bark, crossing my arms under my breasts. He smirks at me, taking a seat at the dinner table. I look around the room in shock. His apartment is as breathtakingly beautiful as the queen’s. The only difference is his is dark and decorated, more minimalistic and masculine.

“I invited you to dinner, sweetheart. I don’t think anyone has ever said no to me. Women fall at my feet and throw their panties at me if I cast them a simple smile,” he explains arrogantly, taking a generous bite out of a dinner roll. I watch his sexy full lips chew, feeling envious of that damn dinner roll. Damn, I would pay anything to have his mouth on any part of my body.

“So, is this my punishment? Since I didn’t get on my knees and greet you with a blow job? Or is it because I didn’t toss my panties to your feet and spread my pussy lips for you so that you could have your way with me,” I question bluntly, witnessing amusement cloud his eyes as he continues to eat dinner.

“Ah, so feisty Miss Marigold. To most women, to have my attention is far from a punishment. It’s just no one says no to the prince. Especially an heir to the throne,” the man bellows out between bites of food, making my body stiffen with fear. Was this man my mate? There’s no way possible? Is this why the air between us continues to be thick with sexual want? This is a total joke! I met my mate; this is probably his baby brother throwing his weight around. Wiping the crumbs from his mouth, he throws down his dinner napkin and strides toward me.

I swallow hard as I feel my face heat as he stares down into my eyes with matching lust across his features. He drops his head towards mine, but only this time, he sucks on my ear lobe, making me go crazy and causing me to grip on to his muscular biceps to keep from pitching forward. His mouth sends hot fiery ribbons of need down my skin as he nibbles and licks his mouth and tongue from my ear to my jawline to my clavicle. My traitorous body moans in pleasure as he tugs down my romper's flimsy straps, revealing my full breasts to his hungry gaze. He smirks up at me as he lowers his head to suckle on my extremely erect left nipple while his fingers stroke my soaked panties that cover the aching mound between my thighs

I embarrassingly whimper in distress as he lets go of my left nipple between his teeth to whisper, “We have so much fucking electricity between us that Teslacouldn’t even figure this shit out. You  spark a lust in me that burrows into my soul, and not even just a taste of you can satiate this desire that ignites my spirit.” He’s not wrong, as he sends my head spinning with pleasure when he massages my engorged clitoris between his thumb and index finger. He goes to town on my nipples, sucking them rough and hard making my knees turn to jelly as he coaxes my first ever orgasm from my writhing body. My insides clench around his fingers hard as he milks out my release. I sag against his muscular chest, watching him slip his fingers between his delicious pout to taste me. Then, he lowers his head to mine, allowing me to taste the saltiness of my arousal.

He’s lifting me in his arms and carrying me into his bedroom. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t be giving in to my body's wants when I’m on borrowed time to seek out my revenge. I pull away from his chest, thrashing in his arms in hopes that he’ll put me down. “No, I can’t do this. I won’t sleep with you! I don’t even know your name,” I scream at him as he places me on his bed and straddles himself on top of me. This handsome mystery man has rendered me immobile, pinning me to the bed with the weight of his body.

He fakes a yawn, peering down at me with a bored expression while ripping my dress down my body. He lifts my arms above my head, holding me into place as he grounds out through clenched teeth, “Must I keep reminding you that no one says no to the prince, Marigold.” I feel my body freeze with fear; the night not too long ago flashes through my mind, and tears begin to stream down my face. I fearfully gaze into his steel-blue eyes, expecting to see sadistic triumph, but, instead, I see concern. He gently licks the tears from my face before taking my mouth in a slow deep toe-curling kiss.

“You don’t have to deny your body. There’s nothing wrong with giving into sexual delights. I won’t hurt you. I promise I’ll make it feel good,” He whispers against my mouth.

“I don’t know your name,” I say, turning my head from his mouth, trying to think clearly, taking back some control while composing myself.

“Prince Patrick of Oceana,” he grunts, slipping his shirt from his body and exposing his mouth-watering golden physique. Patrick works his way down my body with his mouth. Sucking and kissing my nipples and playing with my breasts until they’re so sensitive that the brush of the hair on his chest causes me a pleasurable pain. He licks his way between my thighs, making me almost jackknife off the bed as he feasts, devouring my pussy like he did the dinner roll. Patrick drinks from my body like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. I shouldn’t want the pleasure he bestows on my body, but I can’t help it as I dig my fingers into his scalp so he knows to keep going and not stop. Patrick adds two fingers into the mix of his tongue torture, and before I know it, my body shatters into a million pieces with an explosive orgasm.

He roughly drags my body to the end of the bed with my ass hanging off, positions my legs on his shoulders, and pistons into me. Patrick is just as rough with me as the last time someone had sex with me, but the way he pounds my dripping wet hot pussy mixes pleasure with pain. I feel my eyes roll to the back of my head. I writhe, pant, and moan his name.

“Yes, baby, that’s it. Let them hear my name all over the fucking palace,” Patrick grunts between his moans as he reaches down to stroke the nub between my thighs and takes us over the edge. He disappears into the bathroom and cleans me between my thighs. Patrick places me under the covers and slides in with his front pressed against my back. He kisses me on the cheek, leaving me unsure about everything. I’m at war with myself in my head because tonight, I realize sex doesn’t have to be weaponized and can just feel good. But I don’t know if I like the lesson Patrick just taught me.

I have a day and a half to kill off my last target. I only had one to go, and I had yet to see my mate, the ringleader of it all. So, I could draw him out and play him like a fool the same way he lured me into a false pretense. Then why is it that I’m face down and ass up in Prince Patrick of Oceana’s bed as he rails me so hard that the bed shakes? After that first night with him, I spent all of my free time with him. It’s like we’re addicted to each other, which terrifies me because he’s chipping away at every single wall around my heart. I’ve had to be clever to sneak away from him to kill the last two targets. As he holds on to my hips, pulls my hair, and fucks me so hard, it feels so good. I feel self-hatred. I claw at the sheets with my face buried into the bed pillows, muffling my moans of ecstasy as he comes inside me, letting out loud grunts of pleasure.

“Patrick, you’re smothering me,” I giggle as he rolls off of me, facing me towards him. He kisses me softly on the lips, making my body feel satiated with warmth. As I snuggle into him, I hear the bedroom door open and footsteps on the hardwood floor. I snatch the bedsheet leaving him exposed, barreling into the bathroom. I leave the door slightly cracked, curious about Patrick’s visitor.

“Dude, it smells like sex in here. Who’s your latest pussy,” the obnoxious yet familiar voice jokes.

“What do you need, little bro? I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Patrick responds nonchalantly. I can hear the familiar voice from where I am standing, but I can only see the back of the visitor’s head.

“Shut up with that shit. You’re only three minutes older than me on account that we’re twins,” the familiar voice says, annoyed. Oh shit! Twins? My heart fucking sinks, my blood runs cold, and I try to change my positioning to get a better view.

“Once again, dude. You’re a major cock block. Why are you here, man,” Patrick questions more sternly, unbashful of his nakedness.

“What are we going to do about the Oceana Kingdom of the sea? Now that our men have been showing up dead, you don’t think it’s them striking us, do you,” the visitor questions, moving to toss a pillow over Patrick’s exposed manhood and taking a seat on the bed. The room begins swimming, and a terror seizes me because Patrick’s twin is who I thought was my malevolent mate, but maybe I was confused? Perhaps he wasn’t my mate at all and just my attacker? From the crack in the door, I recognize the beautiful bone structure of his profile and the gold of his eyes.

“It could be retribution for me, not picking the Princess. Do you think they bought the story that I found her in bed with you, my brother? That she was whoring herself out, so we don’t know what became of her after we tossed her ass out of the palace,” Patrick’s cruel, cold words send a chill up my spine. I hold my breath, realizing that I had walked into a well-planned out trap last year.

“I don’t think her father really gave a damn about her. I think he’s more concerned that without a marriage between you two, what’s keeping us from holding up our part of the treaty? Why shouldn’t we just go after their treasure and conquer both the land and sea, as we’ve always wanted, brother,” Patrick’s twin interjects triumphantly.

“We need to keep biding our time. Then, once I become the reigning king, we’ll attack,” Patrick murmurs, rubbing his temples. I rush over to the toilet, grab the porcelain bowl, and empty my stomach's contents into the bowl. My father had been a fool. Making me look like a complete and utter dumbass. Sending me in as a weapon only to be spit out and chewed up as collateral damage. Patrick was a part of the brutality that I faced a year ago. So, I guess there was one more target I needed to add to my shit list. I had one night left to end the cruel princes of Oceana. I, Princess Nalani of Oceana, would take pleasure in it. My revenge on these two bastards would be better than any orgasm Patrick had given me these past few days. I guess bedding Patrick was beneficial to my cause, after all.

The two cruel princes sit in nothing but their birthday suits, back to back, chained to two metal chairs in one of the many cells beneath the palace. I easily lured them to this part of the palace by fabricating a lie to Patrick that I had been threatened by a suspicious man who I saw flee to the tunnels beneath the castle. Prince Patrick wanted to protect what was ‘his’, so he went all cavemen calling on his brother, thinking it might lead them to the murderer of their noblemen I had executed. Unlike my other targets that I ended with a snap of the neck with a flick of my wrists, these evil royals will suffer. Both men look at me through swollen eyes and blood-covered faces as I circle them, exacting my revenge.

“Why are you doing this,” Patrick asks, coughing up blood.

“An eye for an eye. A soul for a soul,” I answer softly, caressing his face with a small, pointed dagger. He looks at me quizzically.

“Ah so, you were sent here by the water nymphs,” Patrick’s twin questions, yanking at the chains around his wrists. He lets out a yelp as I slice the blade down his face, feeling happiness watching blood pour from it. I’m taking a lot of joy out of his screams and groans of pain like he did when he forced himself on me.

“No, I’m here for myself,” I gloat, stabbing Patrick’s hand with the dagger and twisting it until I hear a blood-curdling scream. I cackle to myself like a madwoman as I circle, placing my heeled bootie on Patrick’s manhood. “So, Prince Patrick of Oceana. There were many ways you could’ve rejected me. Why throw me to the wolves,” I question, applying hard uncomfortable pressure to his balls with my heels. He lets out a grunt.

“Princess Nalani of Oceana,” they both exclaim as Patrick gazes upon me callously.

“It wasn’t about you. Plus, they were supposed just to roughen you up. I didn’t expect them t-t-o,” Patrick mutters, dropping his gaze from mine.

“To rape me, beat me, and toss me overboard,” I finish, stomping him in his manhood until he squeals. “It’s a shame. I actually enjoyed your dick,” I continue, grabbing the dagger and stabbing him in the thigh with it.

“All’s fair in love and war, baby,” Patrick’s twin quotes with laughter in his voice.

“Henri shut the fuck up,” Patrick shouts, his face turning red with fury.

“Henri, is it? I can finally put a name to the evilest one of them all,” I say. Being less lenient with Henri, I drive the dagger so hard into his limp dick I’m shocked the blade doesn’t break. He howls in pain, making me laugh with delight.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have saved her. No one told me as the spare to the heir, and I’d always be cleaning up your fucking messes,” Henri says spitefully. 

“Saved me,” I sputter in shock, my heartbeat stilling for a second. I shake my head and reply, “No lies or pleas will save you, boys.”

“Patrick saw us dumping you overboard, freaked out, and jumped in to keep you from drowning while unconscious,” Henri continues. I close my eyes, trying not to think that maybe I got it wrong and Patrick was the lesser evil of the group. Frustrated with my thoughts warring against one another in my head, I stab Henri in the abdomen, feeling relief as blood seeps through his white shirt.

“Explain,” I yell at Henri, placing the bloody dagger against his throat.

“All I have to say to you bitch is that It was nothing personal, sweetheart. It’s what happens when wars brew. You were collateral damage. A magnificently delightful collateral. Your pussy was our spoils of war. Your screams were icing on the cake,” Henri says, blowing me a kiss from his bloody mouth. His menacing words send rage coursing through my body, causing my blood to boil. Before I can think better of it, purple smoke whips out of my hands as I use my magic to rip his head clean off his body. Blood splatters across the back of Patrick’s head and onto my body.

I walk around to face Patrick, and he watches me coolly as if he’s accepted his fate. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t kill Patrick. He’s my mate, my soul tie, and what little left of me would die along with him if I ended his life. I swiftly make my exit towards the door and move my hand through the air, magically freeing him.

My revenge was best served cold. Yet, why doesn’t it feel “all so sweet?”

As dusk approaches, I make my way to the water edge to make my escape and to prepare myself to pay my debts to the water sorcerer. Honestly, my act of revenge didn’t heal my soul or make me feel any better. That night still lives with me. But, Patrick, the time spent with Patrick warmed my heart and revived my broken soul. Patrick, my true mate, not my attacker, breathed life back into me. Wistfully, I think about what we could’ve been had he chosen to love me over his malice and greed—leaving me all the more confused about the terrible situation. Patrick was no saint. I have to remind myself he gave them the green light to rape, batter, and humiliate me. Patrick was the true ringleader of it all, going to drastic lengths to reject me.

“Nalani, I fucking love you! Don’t go,” Patrick screams, falling to his knees in front of me. Surprised, I stare down into his pleading steel blue eyes in shock. He grabs hold of my waist, his eyes brimming with tears, pleading, “Please. Please. Forgive me.” As I go to stroke his head, feeling utterly conflicted, I’m ripped out of his arms, and I’m dragged under the tide of the sea. I scream out for him as he tries to swim to grab me, but I’m sinking to the bottomless abyss and darkest part of the sea at lightning speed.

In the end, if Patrick truly loves me. Then, I royally fucked Patrick.

I close my eyes, accepting my fate, but my stomach churns with guilt making me question my feelings about Patrick. 

I should’ve ended his life so he couldn’t make that ridiculous declaration. He may be the one to become the collateral damage this time around…

I need to find a way to reverse this stupid deal.

That way, I can finally sort out my thoughts and feelings about Patrick and not allow him to perish unless the vengeance against him is by my hands.

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