The door hissed open a few minutes later with a sound that made my stomach twist. Sharp. Final. Like the edge of a knife.
Delmar didn't move, but I felt it.
His body went rigid beside me...shoulders drawn tight, spine locked like a predator about to spring. He didn't look at me. He didn't need to. I could feel his fury humming beneath his skin, vibrating into the air between us like a pulse of heat.
Three guards stepped in.
They were dressed like soldiers going into battle...armored suits from neck to toe, faces obscured by black helmets with glossy visors. The kind of faceless cruelty that made you feel less than human. Less than anything.
Delmar's golden eyes locked onto them, unblinking.
They hesitated for the briefest moment.
I saw it.
Despite all their gear, their weapons, their control...they feared him. And they should have.
"Come on," one of them said gruffly, nudging Delmar's shoulder with the barrel of his gun.
That was a mistake.
The moment that metal touched him, Delmar released a sound, low, guttural, animal. A growl so deep it didn't just echo, it rattled. I watched the nearest guard's hands flinch on his weapon, the illusion of dominance cracking like thin ice.
The second guard approached me. I didn't even see his face, only the gloved hand that gripped my arm.
And then Delmar moved.
"Get your hands off him," he snarled.
His voice held no room for negotiation, only a promise. The kind that could only end in blood.
The guard obeyed instantly, letting go like my skin had burned him. "Fine. Walk with us, and we won't use force," he muttered, quieter now. Smaller.
I looked up at Delmar, catching his eye, just for a second.
Please, I told him without words. Don't fight this now. We need time. We need to survive.
He gave a single nod.
No words. Just trust.
We walked.
The hallway outside was just as I remembered it, sterile, echoing, too bright and too cold all at once. Our footsteps clicked in sync, mine too light, Delmar's too heavy. The walls loomed closer with every step. The hum of the lights above us reminded me of something surgical. Something cruel.
I couldn't stop the sound of my heart pounding inside my ears. Or the way my breath caught when the hallway narrowed, and the guards led us through a high-security wing I hadn't seen before.
Then the door came into view.
A towering metal slab, rimmed with sensors. It slid open with a mechanical swissh, and we were pushed inside.
I froze.
It was a lab.
But not the kind that cured anything.
It was a chamber of precision-made cruelty.
In the center of the room stood a massive glass tank, cylindrical and impossibly tall, reaching up to the ceiling like a cage designed for spectacle. The water inside shimmered with a slight current, clean and artificial. Along the base and top of the tank were panels, wires, cameras, tubes snaking from the machinery into the water like feeding tendrils.
Delmar's fingers brushed mine briefly before we were separated.
I turned my head and wished I hadn't.
On the left side of the room stood a table.
Examination table.
Stark white. Metal clamps at the corners. Dried stains I didn't want to think about. Next to it were surgical lights, glinting overhead like silent watchers. Monitors blinked softly in the dim light, medical vitals scrolling like nothing was wrong.
I forced myself to breathe.
Don't break down. Don't show them they're winning.
My eyes flicked back to the tank, to Delmar.
He stood motionless, his chest rising and falling with restrained fury, his fists clenched at his sides. The fluorescent lights above caught the sharp cut of his jaw, the hollows beneath his eyes.
And I hated it.
I hated that they were putting him here like he was some creature, some fucking specimen, when he was mine. When he was more human than any of them.
I didn't want to imagine how many Faringues had stood here before us. How many had been dragged in, chained, studied. Forced to Bred. And they failed to satisfy their curiosity.
Nature had made them secretive for a reason.
And these monsters these men had turned that sacredness into science.
I bit down on the scream crawling up my throat.
"Move into the tank," Peter's voice echoed from above, distorted and godlike through a microphone cold, clinical, inhuman.
Delmar and I both snapped our heads up at the same time. There, above us, was a balcony made of reinforced glass, a sick little theatre box for the bastards who called themselves scientists. They watched us like we were animals in a zoo, no worse. Breeding subjects. Voiceless, choice-less, expendable.
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat.
Delmar didn't move.
So I did.
Because someone had to.
My legs felt like iron as I walked to the base of the tank. The metal ladder was slick under my trembling hands. Every rung echoed with a hollow clang, like I was stepping into a tomb.
The tank loomed above me, twelve feet of saltwater, clean and clear and artificial. It shimmered like glass and smelled faintly of the ocean. But it wasn't the ocean. It was their invention. Their stage.
I climbed in, pausing only for a breath I wasn't sure I could take. Then I lowered myself into the water.
It hit me all at once, cool, sharp, surrounding me like a second skin. My breath hitched, body bracing, memory flashing like lightning behind my eyes.
The drowning. The panic. The darkness.
"Delmar," I called, my voice just a ripple above the surface.
He didn't answer right away.
His jaw was clenched, every line of his body stiff with resistance. But then I saw it, he moment his anger surrendered to something deeper. Something aching. Something that looked like love.
He cursed softly under his breath and moved.
The water accepted him like an old friend.
The moment his legs slipped beneath the surface, they shimmered, transformed. His gills opened like petals at his neck. That glistening membrane joined his legs together until he became something otherworldly. Something devastatingly beautiful.
I reached for my own neck. My fingers touched only smooth skin. No gills. No transformation. Just a faint ridge like a scar from a dream.
My legs, too, remained as they were.
"Maybe you need to fully submerge," Delmar said gently, as if he could read the thoughts unraveling in my mind.
My heart thundered at the idea.
Submerging meant trusting the water again. It meant risking that cold invasion of salt through my nose, my mouth, my lungs. The helplessness. The burning.
"I can't," I whispered, even though I didn't want him to hear the fear. "I don't know if I can do that again."
Delmar swam up to me, gliding like shadow and light, and rested his palm against my cheek.
His touch steadied me.
"It's going to be alright," he said softly, voice thick with unspoken promises. "I'm here. I won't let you drown. If anything happens... I'll bring you back to the surface. Always."
I nodded.
And then Peter's voice slithered into the silence like poison.
"Well? Get the show started, guys!"
He laughed.
He actually fucking laughed.
The sound made my stomach turn.
Delmar's expression didn't change, but I felt the tension in his body tighten, the fury simmering just beneath his skin. He wasn't looking at me anymore, he was staring past me, up at that glass balcony, like he could burn through it with sheer rage.
Even though my body trembled, my instincts raw and jagged, I didn't resist when Delmar reached out. His hand slid into mine, large and warm, anchoring me in a way nothing ever had. He tugged me close until our foreheads almost touched, the hum of the tank surrounding us like a heartbeat in liquid form.
"Tap me twice on the shoulder to stop me, any time," he murmured, voice low against the shell of my ear. "Take a deep breath."
Then his hand moved over my mouth, gentle but firm, and before I could second guess myself, he pulled me under.
The surface broke above us, a ripple of silver and light, and for a fleeting moment the world felt... silent. Peaceful. The water wrapped around me like a second skin. Weightless. Timeless.
Delmar's arms held me, strong and steady, pressing me to the warmth of his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, slow, deliberate against my ribs. And I let myself believe I'd be okay.
Until I wasn't.
Until my lungs began to burn.
It started as a whisper of discomfort, then flared into fire. My chest tightened, my ribs squeezed inwards like a vice. I panicked. My body twisted instinctively, trying to escape the sensation, trying to breathe but Delmar wouldn't let go.
He held me still.
I thrashed once, desperate, but he tightened his hold. I could feel the tremble in his muscles. The silent apology in his eyes.
And then...
A shift.
A gurgle.
Not in my throat. Not in my lungs. Deeper. It was in my blood. My very marrow.
The burn vanished.
I inhaled, not through my nose or mouth, but somewhere behind my ears. I stilled, blinking slowly as the overwhelming urge to breathe disappeared. My body... adjusted. Adapted. Accepted.
Delmar pulled back slightly, watching my face like he was seeing a miracle unfold. My hand rose on instinct, brushing the side of my neck. I felt them, raised ridges. Gills. My gills.
I floated gently back, disoriented. My limbs felt foreign. I looked down.
My leg they weren't legs anymore.
They were joined now, encased in a soft, translucent membrane that shimmered beneath the water. The skin stretched where my thighs met, hiding everything I had known of my body. My form had changed, become something... other.
Something not human.
I stared at myself with a strange kind of awe. Fascinated. Afraid.
Delmar said nothing, only hovered close, his expression unreadable.
Then, the intercom crackled.
"Come on! What are you two waiting for?" Peter's voice stabbed through the silence, too loud, too real. "Let's get the show started!"
The spell shattered.
Delmar's face twisted, as if Peter's words had left a bitter film on his tongue. He didn't move, his entire body taut, coiled tight with resistance. His arms hung rigid at his sides, every muscle bracing itself against something unseen.
He wasn't going to touch me. Not like this. Not while they watched.
I understood.
He hated the idea of being vulnerable in front of them. Of turning something sacred into a performance for sick voyeurs.
But I looked at him, this man who had pulled me from death, who had held me through the terror of drowning and the shock of rebirth and I knew, in that moment, it had to be me. It had to start with me.
Because whether we wanted it or not... this was going to happen.
And I refused to let it be theirs.
I moved through the water, my limbs gliding without conscious effort. My new form knew how to swim before I ever did. As if the ocean lived inside me now.
When I reached him, I brought my hands to his shoulders, anchoring myself. My palm found his cheek, warm and solid. He flinched, just slightly, but didn't pull away.
I tilted my head toward him. I wished I knew how to speak his language, the clicks that vibrations of his kind. I wished I could tell him that this was okay. That I chose this, even now.
But he must have understood.
Because he leaned in.
And kissed me.
His lips met mine with a hesitant certainty, like the first wave reaching unfamiliar shore. I moaned, except the sound didn't come from my throat. It rumbled up from deep within my chest, vibrating through the water, a tremor that sounded eerily like one of those clicks Delmar often made. My body responded instinctively, the sound vibrating in my bones like it belonged there.
His tail brushed mine, wrapping around it slowly. A strange, pulsing intimacy.
Delmar's hands roamed cautiously at first, as if learning me all over again. Then lower...down my back, curving around my hips before moving on my front and setting on my stomach. His touch reverent and unsure all at once. When his fingers found the place where my body had changed where the human part of me used to be, I gasped, my spine arching.
The skin there was thin, almost too soft, and when he pressed against it, it parted.
Just like that.
I opened my eyes, breath caught in my chest, not from fear but from the sheer foreignness of the sensation. A boundary I didn't know could be crossed had just been crossed, and it felt... real. Not invasive. Not wrong. Just strange. Raw. Deep.
Delmar's eyes met mine, wide, unsure and I expected confusion. But what I saw was guilt.
He hesitated for a breath, then gently pressed further. I trembled as his hand slipped under my skin into me. Not into a hole, not into something open, but beneath the surface, as if he was reaching into my very being.
And then he touched it.
My cock. Now inside my body, it was warm, slimy, and it didn't feel human.
The sensation alien and intimate in a way I couldn't explain. Like he was holding something an internal organ. Like he was cradling a secret.
I shivered, my head falling forward onto his shoulder. My hands gripped his arms, needing something to hold onto, something solid to anchor me.
And then it wasn't his hand probing me but something else. Something I was aware of but too scared to acknowledge. My nails dug into Delmar's flesh as the thing slid inside me, moving in a way that wasn't possible for a human cock. It was reverent, seeking, probing, moving with curiosity.
I wish could say it was pleasurable but it wasn't. It wasn't painful either. It was weird. Just foreign.
"What the fuck are you doing? We can't see a thing!" Peter's shrill voice crackled through the microphone, laced with frustration.
Delmar snarled, the sound rolling through the water like a storm brewing in his chest. A series of sharp, guttural clicks followed. Wild. Angry. Taut with fury.
His cock began to retreat, slipping out of the membrane as he pulled away from me abruptly.
I blinked in confusion, breath caught halfway between arousal and alarm. "Delmar?" I whispered, only to follow his gaze.
He wasn't looking at me.
He was glowering at a man stationed just beyond the glass, one of the guards, his visor lifted halfway, holding a camera, the red recording light blinking in the dim lab.
Filming us.
The reality of where we were snapped something inside me, cold fury cutting through whatever warmth I had cocooned myself in vanished. I swam closer to Delmar, placing a hand on his arm, trying to anchor him. His body vibrated with rage, tail flicking violently.
But before either of us could react...
The lab doors burst open with a thunderous hiss of hydraulics and a gust of wind that rippled through the sterile air like the breath of a storm.
Figures stood in the entrance, silhouetted against the hallway's harsh lights.
First came Liam.
Soaked. Alive.
His eyes locked on mine instantly, and for the first time in what felt like lifetimes, hope surged through my chest.
Beside him... was K'liira.
Naked. Gleaming. Her bioluminescent skin glowed faintly blue and gold, casting shimmering reflections on the white tiles. Her hair longer than I remembered, dark and her body taller than I remembered. She didn't look like a victim anymore. She looked like a goddess. A queen reborn in fire and saltwater.
Behind her, at least seven men filed in, guards but they didn't move with aggression. Their weapons were trained not on us, but on the scientists and soldiers already stationed inside the lab.
They looked... dazed.
No. Not dazed. Mesmerized.
Their faces were blank, expressions slack, and eyes eerily glassy. Every one of them moved in perfect synchrony, like puppets being held by invisible strings.
"What the...who authorized this?!" Peter's voice cracked over the speakers, high-pitched and furious. "Have you gone insane? Lower your weapons. You want to lose your jobs for some sea pussy?"
But the guards didn't even flinch.
K'liira stepped forward.
Her eyes burned with a strange intensity as she raised one hand in a smooth, commanding gesture. The enthralled guards moved instantly, breaking formation and rushing toward Peter's men, disarming them with swift precision.
Chaos erupted.
The original guards, those loyal to Peter, tried to retaliate, but they were outnumbered, outmatched, and completely unprepared for the quiet, lethal coordination of K'liira's entranced soldiers. One by one, they were taken down. No bloodshed. Just quick, efficient strikes that left them groaning or unconscious on the floor.
Liam sprinted across the room, slamming a crowbar into the emergency override panel. Sparks flew. The alarms blared briefly, then went silent.
"Get them out of the tank!" he shouted, voice hoarse from running.
The glass began to drain with a gurgling hiss. Water poured down the filtration system, lowering rapidly around us.
Delmar grabbed my hand and pulled me close, shielding me with his body as the level dropped. I shivered, the chill of exposure hitting me as our new forms slowly reverted. My skin itched. My lungs burned again, adjusting to air. I gasped, then coughed, then fell forward into Delmar's arms as we both collapsed onto the metal floor of the now-empty tank.
Liam was already climbing the outer ladder.
"Kash!" he called as he reached the top and helped open the hatch. "Come on, we have to move before backup comes."
K'liira stood near the doorway, her body glowing softly in the dim red emergency light. Her soaked hair clung to her bare back, but there was nothing fragile about her. She carried herself like a sovereign, silent, powerful, haunted. Her luminous eyes met Delmar's, and she spoke to him in a series of sharp, deliberate clicks. The language of their kind.
Delmar's jaw clenched as he listened. Whatever she was asking of him made his eyes darken with sorrow. Still, he gave her a single nod. Then, without a word, he moved.
He bent down, retrieved a weapon from one of the unconscious guards on the floor, and stood tall.
My stomach turned when I realized what he was about to do.
Delmar raised the gun and began firing, one shot for each of the guards still under K'liira's spell. They dropped where they stood. No cries. No resistance. Just silent, obedient collapse. As if they were surrendering to it.
K'liira flinched with every shot. Her hands trembled at her sides, and her eyes squeezed shut as though each bullet pierced her own flesh. But she didn't stop him. She didn't protest. She stood there, holding the weight of their deaths inside her.
When the gun clicked empty, only two of the mesmerized guards remained, Delmar had spared them. They didn't speak. They simply moved to our side, forming a protective flank as we fled the lab.
Every corner we turned, someone tried to stop us, and every time, the remaining guards acted fast, clean, efficient. No questions. No hesitation. Just bullets.
At the rear loading dock, one of them ushered us toward an armored transport truck. It was already running, keys in the ignition. As soon as we climbed in, Delmar turned the gun on the last two guards and fired twice. They crumpled without resistance.
A beat of silence followed, deafening in its finality.
I climbed into the driver's seat. Liam and K'liira slid into the back.
No one spoke.
The engine rumbled as we pulled away from the HMORC compound.
Liam reached into his bag and handed us clean white lab coats, stolen disguises. We put them on without a word, the fabric cold against our warm skin.
I sat there, soaked and silent, my fingers curled tightly around the car console.
There was a strange heaviness in the air. The kind that settled after a sacrifice. We had escaped, yes but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like something vital had been severed. Like a part of us had been left behind in that sterile hell.
And as K'liira sat beside me her expression unreadable, I couldn't bring myself to ask how she had controlled those guards.
Or how much of her soul it had cost.
***
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