DROWNED HEARTS

Season One: The Offering

The figure was not a man, but he stood like one.

Water clung to him like a cloak, gliding off skin the color of storm clouds. His eyes glowed with an inner blue fire not soft, not warm, but endless.

Calla couldn't breathe.

The dock creaked under her feet as he stepped forward. She stumbled back, heart pounding so loud it drowned out the waves.

"You killed one of mine," he said again, voice low and layered with something older than rage.

Calla opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

Behind her, the bar door slammed open.

Her father and Elias stumbled out, laughing, still buzzed from the beer and the praise. They froze when they saw him.

The laughter died in their throats.

"What in hell's name—?" Elias muttered.

The sea god's gaze turned to them. He didn't need to raise his voice.

"A life was taken. A life must be given."

Calla looked between them. She wasn't sure what she expected maybe that her father would step forward and offer himself, finally do something noble for once.

But he didn't.

He looked at her.

So did Elias.

No words. No arguments. Just two cowardly glances, and Calla understood.

They wouldn't sacrifice themselves.

They'd offer her instead.

She didn't scream when they grabbed her.

She didn't struggle when her father shoved her toward the edge of the dock like she was nothing more than a bag of chum.

All she said was, "I'm your daughter."

Her father didn't flinch. "And this is bigger than you."

Thalos didn't touch her. He didn't have to.

The tide surged up, wrapping around her ankles, her legs, her waist not water, but will. It pulled her in, but it wasn't cruel.

It was... deliberate.

The last thing she saw was Elias turning away.

The last thing she felt was her own heart breaking.

Then the sea swallowed her whole.

The water was warm. Too warm.

It wrapped around her like silk and storm. Calla kicked, fought, screamed but there was no air, no light, no way to tell what was up or down.

She wasn't drowning.

She was being carried.

Her lungs didn't burn. Her skin didn't shrivel. But her mind spun like a whirlpool.

And then just as the darkness began to feel like forever they broke through into light.

She gasped as her head surfaced.

Above her: a glowing dome, like moonlight captured inside glass. Massive coral structures curled upward like towers. Jellyfish floated like lanterns, casting blue and violet shadows across a palace made of shimmering stone.

And there, on a platform of obsidian and sea glass, stood the god.

Thalos turned to her.

"You're safe now."

Calla blinked.

"No," she rasped. "I was never in danger."

And then she passed out.