Chapter 312: Caught By Damar

The words were a blatant breach of every boundary we had, a challenge to the line I had drawn.

My breath hitched, my brain screaming at me to move, to run, to shout for Noah—but my body was a second too slow.

Before I could even find my voice to protest, Thalor’s thick arm wrapped around my waist like a coil of cool silk, pulling me flush against his bare chest. He didn’t wait for permission. He didn’t ask again. He simply tilted my head back and did exactly what he wanted.

The second his lips touched mine, the world didn’t just go quiet—it drowned.

It wasn’t a normal kiss. It was an inundation, a literal tidal wave of sensation that crashed over my parched throat. The ’purest water’ he’d promised didn’t come from the vial; it flowed directly between us, cool and life-giving, tasting of crushed mountain snow and captured starlight.

It rushed through me like a flash flood, quenching a thirst I hadn’t even realized was hollowed out inside my chest.

For a moment, the heavy heat of the tent and the lingering scent of my husbands were washed away by this freezing, electric clarity.

But then, the blue crest on my wrist didn’t just pulse—it erupted.

A light so bright it felt like a physical weight flared out from my skin, illuminating the entire square in a haunting, bioluminescent glow. The shadows of the Sheep Tribe’s huts stretched long and jagged against the ground, and for a heartbeat, I was pinned in the spotlight of my own betrayal.

My brain finally caught up with my body. Arinya, what are you doing?

I tried to pull back, my hands coming up to push against his ice-cold chest, but his arm was like a band of iron around my waist. He wasn’t letting go. He was drinking me in just as much as I was drinking from him, his violet eyes closed as if he were finally anchoring himself to the only thing that mattered.

The purple scales around my ankle began to hum, a high-pitched vibration that made my skin crawl with a sudden, sharp realization. This wasn’t just a drink. He was weaving himself into my very fiber under the cover of the moon.

And then, through the haze of the magic and the cold, I heard it.

It wasn’t a song. It wasn’t the wind.

It was the unmistakable, bone-chilling sound of a low, chilling hiss vibrating through the air from the edge of the square.

My heart didn’t just skip—it stopped. I knew that hiss. I knew the weight of the shadow currently watching us from the darkness of the main dwelling.

Thalor finally pulled back, his lips wet and glowing with a faint silver light, his expression one of absolute, unrepentant triumph. But I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe.

I slowly turned my head toward the shadows, my wrist still glowing like a neon sign, pointing directly at the sin I had just committed.

My blood turned to ice as the silhouette detached itself from the gloom of the Sheep Tribe’s main dwelling. It wasn’t a growl that greeted me, but a silence so profound it felt like the air had been sucked out of the square.

Standing there, bathed in the incriminating glow of my own wrist, was Damar.

“Damar,” I breathed, the word cracking in my guilty throat.

Thalor’s taste was still damp on my lips.

The silence that followed was heavier than the ocean floor.

Damar didn’t roar as Fenric would have, didn’t just jump into his own thoughts like Noah would’ve, and he didn’t demand an explanation either. He simply drifted out of the darkness of the main dwelling, his emerald eyes luminous and flat, reflecting the violet glow of the well and the guilty blue light on my wrist.

He didn’t stop until he was five feet away, his long, serpentine tail coiling slowly behind him. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. I felt the cold dampness of Thalor’s kiss still lingering on my lips, tasting of a betrayal I hadn’t planned for.

“Damar,” I breathed, the name catching in my throat once again. “This…” What could I even say? He saw it all and was no fool, but the words slipped out of my lips regardless. “I… I was thirsty.”

His gaze didn’t even flicker to my face at first. It dropped, slow and deliberate, to my ankle. The purple scales Thalor had tied there were shimmering under the moon, a beautiful, silent testament to the moment I’d just shared with the merman.

“Thirsty,” Damar repeated. His voice wasn’t filled with the rage I expected, but a low, vibrating hum that felt like a shield being placed in front of me.

He looked at Thalor, his pupils slitting into thin, black needles.

“You,” Damar hissed, his tail snapping against the dirt with a sound like a whip crack. “You used the silence of the night to weave your webs. You knew she was vulnerable, drained by the heat, and you used your ’Sea Song’ to pull her from her bed. You enticed her, Prince of the Deep. You didn’t just give her water; you lured her here with a melody you knew she wouldn’t fight.”

I was caught between believing those allegations or admitting my own fault.

Thalor didn’t pull his arm from my waist. If anything, his grip tightened, his bare chest acting like a solid wall. He didn’t look afraid; he looked possessive, stripped of that innocent humility he had shown before.

This… happened to be the real him.

“The Land-Mother was parched,” Thalor said, his voice a melodic chime that sounded like a challenge. “I sang my song with longing, and she heard it. I do not see what I did wrong there.”

Everything he just said sounded right and so wrong at the same time.

Damar glided closer, his silver scales shimmering with a dark, oily light under the moon. Even though I knew he supported me, I could see the twitch in his jaw—the sheer displeasure of seeing such a handsome rival making a move while the rest of us were supposed to be sleeping.

“The sea is full of half-truths, fish,” Damar said, his voice dropping into a dangerous and cold tone. “You put your light on her skin because you knew she would indulge a guest. You took advantage of her kindness, and now you stand there as if you’ve won something because you’ve dressed her in your scales.”

He looked back at me, his emerald eyes softening just enough to show he wasn’t blaming me, even if he hated the situation.

“Ari, the song of a merfolk is a powerful thing. It clouds the mind.” He stretched his hand towards me. “Come back to the fire before the cub and the pup wake up. You know they won’t be as ’understanding’ about the fish crossing lines in the middle of the night.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep