Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: Sirenize

Song List:
Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine
Bring Me To Life by Evanescence
I Walk the Line by Halsey
In the Air Tonight by

The slow and steady sound of waves crashing gently in the distance pierced her mind, coaxing her from sleep. Birds sang on the warm breeze, whispering their hopes for the new dawn. Reyna sighed, stretching her legs and arching her back, fisting the sand—

/Sand./

She shot up, startled, searching wildly for answers. Her dark curls hung loose and thick, coated with salt, as she whipped her head around taking in the swaying palm trees, white sand, and pink sunrise. Her clothes were still slightly damp, but she wasn’t cold any longer. Flashes of a black, star-speckled sea and Orm’s strong arms around her surfaced, calling her back to her present circumstances. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she recalled the previous day’s events as she stared out across the tourmaline waters—but clarity did not come.

How had Orm found her?

How had she survived?

/Reyna, I need you to listen to me…/

How had she been made to breathe water?

/Do not be afraid…/

She touched her lips, remembering his kiss. Her face flushed as she looked around, but he had vanished.

Where had he gone?

Where were they now?

She had a dim memory of waking in the night, finding her cheek pressed against his hot, bare chest…

“Oh my….”

And hadn’t she ground against him in the water…?

Her heart flipped in her chest.

What had they done?

Every inch of her body felt as electrified as a live wire, sparking and sputtering desperately without a proper channel to direct its wild current. It was all too much. She had nearly died, /again/. But this time, it hadn’t been Arthur who pulled her from the wreckage. It had been /Orm/. Ocean Master, former King of Atlantis, a high-born prince, a man more powerful than she could comprehend, capable of committing great atrocities, one who intended to war with her people, to wipe them out—with piercing blue eyes and rippling muscles, who’s wicked smirk set her on edge just as easily as his derisive comments toward her family.

That man…

Had rescued her.

“Devil…or angel?” She murmured, searching for him on the blossoming horizon.

/Does it matter?/

No, she supposed not.

Not anymore.

——

Orm emerged from the surf, carrying Reyna as she slept in his arms. The moon hung low and bright in the sky, illuminating her pale face against his chest. Her escape had been narrow. If he had been any later, she would have perished along with the shipwreck. Though now, she would never escape him, nor the destiny he tirelessly pursued. So, her fate was sealed regardless.

Warrior—King—Ocean Master.

One title he had not harbored a lust for filling? Queen.

Mera had been a blight upon him. A reminder of his mother and the childhood he lost after she had been sacrificed to the Trench. Nothing but a thorn in his side, prodding at the old wound as it festered away year after year. He’d tolerated her presence and watched her closely as they’d grown out of their formative years, always suspicious of her motives—wondering how Atlanna’s lessons might manifest within her. She had been a necessary evil, ensuring his alliance with Xebel. A unique consortium that Arthur now reaped the benefits of. Though he’d laid the groundwork, Orm did not envy him for that. But Reyna? His fight now belonged to her, as well. His bastard brother may have won the crown, but Orm had dealt a fatal blow this night. Despite formerly unforeseen circumstances, his plan had worked. The Black Manta had seen through with his assault, and Orm had incapacitated the effects of the damage. He had rescued Reyna—embedding himself into their family structure, proving his worth, prowess, and knowledge. And as to his former plan, he had brought her to his side, corrupting their inner circle. Though Reyna did not know it, she was now irrevocably tied to him. The ancient ways of his people bound them. Not even the flames from the Ring of Fire could burn away the bonds of their joining.

/People of Atlantis, hear me! My brother has come from the surface…to challenge me for the throne! Let us settle this in the ancient way: by bloodshed, do the gods make known their will!/

Bloodshed—such a liberal term. So loose in its meaning…

Sand gave way beneath his steps as he brought her back to land. His little nymph, so far from home, stranded on strange tides and foreign shores. This island had been optimal from the start for its isolation. Marooned, the Black Manta had no means of escape. Nor did Reyna, but for him. Now, its bank was dark. The palm trees were mere shadows swaying in the wind. No one would find them here. Not even Arthur knew of the island’s exact location, and Orm had not divulged this precious information to Tom Curry before his hasty departure. They were utterly alone.

Reyna sighed softly in his arms as he laid her out beneath the stars. Rather quickly, he constructed a meager fire for warmth and returned to her side…all too pleased to shelter her in his arms. His conquest—his victory.

Yet…

The visualization of his blood proliferating through her veins plagued his mind—transferred in the most intimate and purest of fashions—a simple kiss. The change was rife within her, already purifying her blood. He could smell it on her as he held her close, unable to help himself. The scent drove him wild, urging him toward the final act—the culmination of his hubris. But he refused. He would not give in until she was ready. Until she sought him.

There was only this in the interim. Only this he would allow: the feel of her skin against his. Her comely body and all its wondrous curves, vulnerable beneath his palm, her supple lips emanating soft sighs as she slept with her face so near his heart. He wanted to touch her, to give his hands leave to roam across the atlas of her skin. He had been a fool to let himself believe that he could use her so carelessly. To allow himself to pretend that there was nothing between them when the truth was, he had been lost to her since the moment she graced him with her smile. No one else could quell his rage, hold his fascination, or vex him on such little pretense as she could. In Atlantis, he had never fallen victim to vice. Nor in his short stint on land did he succumb to simple pleasures to assuage his defeat—until /her/. She was the first. His guilty pleasure. It was a crime against his politics and his honor to give in to her wiles. And until this day, he had remained strong. But now, everything was different. No longer would he need to deny himself.

Palm leaves rustled above as the tall stalks swayed gently in the dark of the night. Orm’s eyes were drawn to their elaborate fronds and the stars littering the sky. He had no way of knowing what time it was—though by the orientation of the moon, he supposed it was only just past midnight. Eventually, she would need to eat…drink fresh water. It was his job to provide her with these things….his job…

“You whore!”

Orm closed his eyes, attempting to resist the pull of memory.

“You dare defy me?” Orvax bellowed, flinging a crystal decanter toward his mother. But the Queen did not cow to his aggression. Nor did she flinch as the glass shattered against the walls of their royal chamber. The guards at the door did not move. Though Orm wished they would intervene, they never would. They were charged with protecting the royal family from everyone but the King.

“Your continued assault on surface dweller ships has attracted too much attention. You have desecrated the righteous and honorable cryptogram of the Sea Force. You have made enemies—”

Orvax struck her so hard he drew blood, and Atlanna spun, knocked to her knees. “What do you know of war, woman?” He hissed drunkenly. “I am King! The ocean is mine to command!”

Atlanna, his mother, dabbed her lip as droplets of blood floated through the water. Quietly, she steeled herself in the face of her husband’s noxious temper, glancing to where Orm stood, frozen with fear.

“No!” Orm shouted, shattering the memory. His grip on Reyna tightened. Though he knew he would never let her go, he refused to be like the man who had raised him. But he could not deny that the same demons that gripped his father now haunted him—jealousy, resentment, and possession ran rampant in his heart. Perhaps it was hereditary. He’d never had cause to fear that part of himself—rather, it had often served him well as King. Then again, he’d never allowed himself to /feel/ for another. So there was no risk.

Until now.

He glanced down at Reyna’s sleeping form—so fragile and vulnerable. She belonged to him, alone, and he would never allow her to suffer so. Still, the idea of another touching what was his set his blood boiling. No, he would never harm Reyna—not the way his father had hurt his mother. But if she ever betrayed him or sought the comfort of another, she’d witness his wrath, and her suitors would feel the fury of his trident. But not her. Never her…

She stirred in his embrace, sensing the magics in her blood. Lost in sleep, she nuzzled her cheek against his chest, moaning softly as her lips brushed against the fine hair that grew there. Despite himself, Orm’s hand drifted lower down her back.

/To steady her…/

He hissed in a breath as she suddenly raked the backs of her nails across his bare chest, hungering for more despite her unconscious state. Instinctually, he wedged his thigh between her legs, drawn in by the same allure—the song of the sirens. In response, she ground against him, moaning desperately, searching for release, /needing him/. His nostrils flared as he clenched his fists, barely preventing himself from wantonly pawing at her while she dozed. But he refused to defile her further than he already had. So he kept still.

Lying on the sand alongside her, he cradled her in his arms until the stars faded from the sky, listening to the fire crackle. She needed the rest for what was to come. And as the sun quickened to the horizon, predicting her coming arousal, he knew it was time to move.

Leaving her alone on the beach, he took to the water, scouting the perimeter for signs of enemies or allies…as was his way. There were neither. They were alone…

As he swam through the tranquil sea, daybreak threatened above. The ocean was teeming with life all around him. Brilliant coral reefs, schools of fish, eels, manta rays, and tiny seahorses flitted in and out of their retrospective habitats, unbothered by the presence of their fallen King drowning in conflict.

It was too perfect—one more holy than he would have claimed divine intervention. After all, this is what he had wanted: to wheedle his way into the family, to prove his worth, to use Reyna to get to Arthur. Yet, when he hadn’t actively smothered such urges, she had artfully undermined him, much to his begrudging delight. The two of them had carefully resisted the strange pull that gripped them both, stubbornly committing to their respective echo chambers. But now, their Machiavellian dance had come to an uncanny end. The gods had meted their will, and Reyna and Orm, by design, had passed the point of no return—into the dark, she would go forevermore…with him.

He clenched his fist, punching and shattering a cluster of brilliant coral. He had not meant for it to be this way! He had fought against this fate—this union. The land and the sea…together. He had done everything in his power to keep them separate—her separate, fighting against his own desires and instincts. No. Arthur’s arrogance was to blame. His lack of action. His… complacency with the surface dwellers and his inability to conquer his enemies. The gods were still not satisfied! Orm had been forced to intervene, to show him…them…all…

He threw his head back and bellowed as a noxious combination of emotions swirled within him: pent-up rage, victory, and lust. Only one thing could sate him…and she was trapped…vulnerable on the shore.

Like clockwork, he felt her stir upon the sand. Her blood called to him—singing on the salt of the sea, seeking him out. She could not help herself. It was beyond both of their control. She called to him, and he was compelled to answer to her. They would join….

Staring up toward the sun, glittering and refracting through the water, he surrendered to her pull. He surrendered to the gods—to her. He no longer needed to deny that he desired her, for they had made known their will. He had shed a drop of his blood—and they had written her fate, intertwining it with his forevermore.

Surging up through the water, he emerged from the surf. He had desired this for some time, wondered what it would feel like, how she would bend. Yet now that they neared the event, it felt heavier. Weighted. This was not the ploy of a desperate King. This was /fate/.

He thought of their first meeting and all the events that had transpired since. The madness of his incarceration. The impudent treatment he received on behalf of those she loved, despite her good nature…

He could not fault her that—her learned loyalties. In time, he would school her to newer and brighter horizons.

Beginning /now/.

He searched for her on the beach as one might seek a trove of treasure until…

There…

The wind tussled her dark hair as she stared, enthralled, out toward the spectral dawn. Walking slowly across the sand, drawn by the possession of his blood, she approached her destiny. Neither of them could stop it now.

/At last…/ He sighed, hungry for her.

//Mine.//

——

Reyna’s feet moved as if of their own accord, carrying her across the slight slope of sand toward the crashing waves. The water was pristine, blue as the sky, and accented by the lingering pink hues of the blossoming sunrise. But she hardly noticed the colors—there was only him…

Orm appeared as severe as ever. His piercing blue eyes did not stray from her face as he watched her approach. His lips were a grim line, and his jaw was clenched, but there was a glimmer of the insidious cunning she knew him to be capable of simmering just beneath the surface. She felt the way a gazelle might under the unflinching gaze of a stalking lion. Unable to avoid the hunt—succumbing to the predator, she sensed there was no escape, and he was nearly bursting with anticipation—awaiting her arrival as though crossing into the water was some kind of concession she didn’t quite understand. But she knew…he was waiting for her…and she would not forsake him.

Gone was her anger and apprehension, her suspicion and chagrin. In their place, a dawning physical need as undeniable as the sunrise ruled supreme. There was no stopping it. That much, she knew. But she was not afraid. Drawing closer to him, she approached the precipice of change. Nothing would be the same now. She’d known from the beginning that Orm didn’t play fair—he was authoritative, uncompromising, and powerful. Why would he ever subject himself to the rules of others? Now was no different. Yet, he seemed nervous. His broad shoulders were tense, the muscles of his arms taught and flexed, as though he were poised to chase after her if she should flee—as she should. For all intents and purposes, he was a predator, and she had never been more vulnerable to him than she was now. His killing glare grew stark as she neared the water’s edge, and she could feel the tension building between them, ready to break, as they both wondered what she might do.

A quiet warning echoed in her mind, cautioning her against crossing that line. This man was a killer—he was dangerous, not to be trusted, a villain of the most treacherous nature seeking to punish all of humanity, including her, for the pollution of the sea. A jealous and vindictive man capable of more violence than she could imagine, who, at his very core, desired nothing more than to usurp the throne of Atlantis from Arthur. Despite all of this, her steps did not slow. Her conviction remained unwavering as she abandoned rational thought for physical need.

Light glinted off the saltwater droplets racing across the rigid muscles of his sculpted torso. As they glinted in her eyes, her blood sang, urging her forward, snuffing out her apprehension as quickly as it was born. She was not in control anymore—some other unknown force had taken over, and she reveled in the feel of it. She’d never seen such a delectable display of masculine strength. Everything about him was hard…strong and powerful. She had to know what it felt like to touch him. This was a man who had warred. Who had fought and defeated his enemies. A King. As if by magic, these facts that had once seemed terrifying transformed. He was not frightening; he was glorious…

Reyna did not hesitate or break his stare as she stepped into the water, crossing the threshold between worlds and joining him in his. She did not lose confidence as the waves crashed against her. Nor did she waver as she came to stand before him, wading up to her knees, facing her fate head-on. He’d saved her life. Whatever past discrepancies lingered between them, they had now vanished. Instead, she wanted to thank him, to express her profound gratitude, but her emotions clouded her mind, rendering her silent. How could she articulate everything in a way that truly captured the essence of her feelings? This fearsome, arrogant man, full of rancor and disdain, bitter to his very core by the circumstances he had been dealt—a sworn enemy of Arthur, of her family, of everything she was. He should hate her, too. By all accounts, she was his enemy. The object of his derision and contempt. He should scorn her very existence—and yet…he had protected her. Despite everything, there was a side of Orm that was kind, righteous, /good/. Nothing like what Arthur and Tom Curry thought—nothing like any of them had anticipated. She wanted to tell him everything…but she couldn’t seem to break the spell cast upon her silent tongue.

As he loomed over her with his hulking form, his jaw finally relaxed, and his brow softened. He searched her face, seeking answers. A King of the sea stood before her, having only recently rescued her from the brine locker’s kiss of death. She owed Orm Marius everything…

In a flash of movement, he snatched her waist and drew her into his arms, crushing his lips against hers and pinning her to his chest. She clung to him eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he slanted his mouth over hers, demanding her submission. She moaned in answer, and he kissed her harder, nipping her bottom lip. He tasted like salt and heat, ocean and sunlight. As her lips parted, his tongue thrust against hers, and she gasped at the sensation, allowing her hands to wander across his shoulders and down to his arms. Her neck craned back as he demanded more of her, commanding her to give…but she wanted to /take/. Biting him back, she met his frenzied aggression, matching his need as she caressed his chest.

Orm growled against her lips in response, tugging her down into the water as it sprayed around them, determined to master her. All she sensed was him. The feel of his muscles as they tensed around her, his hands roaming over her, tugging at her clothes, pulling her back toward the shore.…

He yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it away, then laid her out on the sand, holding her down, directing her movements….and she allowed him, submitting completely, fully enthralled by the powerful male commanding her.

Snatching her wrists, he pinned them above her head as the waves crashed over them again and again, lashing at her skin and threatening to drown them both. Salt spray flavored their drawn, amorous kiss as they writhed desperately with the tide. Reyna was helpless but to obey as he relieved her of her clothes, and before she knew it, they were naked on the beach. She had never felt so exposed in her life—lying beneath the sun with the waves brushing against her and /him/ looming over her. But he didn’t leave her long to ponder the implications of what was to happen next…

While his tongue twined with hers, their moans mixed in with the sound of the crashing waves. Never before had she craved another so badly—never had she desired to be so wholly consumed. But now, as he laid his palm over her hip to pin her down, she felt electrified by lust, losing control. Though surrounded by water, she worried she might catch on fire from the friction of his heavy body shuddering over hers.

/I am a King, little nymph. You would beg me for what I have to offer well before I ever considered taking you against your will./

Reyna was nearly there, prepared to beg for more, when he cupped her sex in his big hand.

“Oh!”

She gasped as he ground his palm against her, murmuring to her in a husky voice. Though she couldn’t quite make out what he was saying over the roar of the ocean, she hardly cared. More than that, she could scarcely comprehend anything beyond his tantalizing touch.

As he pulled back, she drank in the sight of him—his wet, blonde hair clinging to his cheek, the salt water running across his skin, his warrior’s body looking for all the world as if it had been sculpted from marble, like a statue chiseled from stone by Michelangelo himself.

Orm dipped two of his fingers into her slick folds, and she cried out in ecstasy, undulating her hips as her sheath clamped down on the appendages. She needed more—desperately. Orm growled possessively at her wanton display but more so at the discovery of her readiness. The truth of the chemistry that had been sparking between them for months now, left unsated.

“Tell me what you want…” He grated, thrusting his fingers deeper.

Reyna moaned again, spreading her legs wider. But she didn’t answer him.

Orm, still holding her wrists in place, began to draw lazy circles along the apex of her sex, bringing her close to completion. “Tell me!” He demanded.

Reyna arched her back, crying out as the sea lashed against her skin, as he hedged her against ultimate pleasure.

“I want you!”

Permission.

/Granted./

Orm dipped his head, closed his lips around the swollen peak of her nipple, and sucked hard. With his free hand, he relinquished her sex and snatched her thigh, pressing her legs open. Reyna gasped, staring up at the sky as the engorged head of his cock slipped against the wet folds of her sex. Gulls cried on the wind, and the ocean thundered around them as it collided with the land. Orm groaned, sucking harder on the sensitive bud as he ground against her, pressing deeper…

Reyna wanted /more/.

She was about to demand it from him when, of his own accord, Orm gave a decisive thrust, and his shaft slid home. Wrapping his arm around her back, he held her waist steady as he buried himself deep within her. A moan of pleasure escaped his lips, and she sucked in a breath at the sudden feeling of fullness, at the sensation of his cock twitching inside her as he buried the hilt deep.

Joined.

/Trust him…/

Abandoning her breast, his lips found hers once again. Salt water filled her mouth as Orm thrust in tandem with the waves. It was as if the sea itself were making love to her…so soon after almost killing her. The ocean roiled with its former King, moving and churning with his body, filling her, claiming her.

Reyna opened her eyes, wanting to see him in the throws as he began to lose control, fucking her like a piston. He was more lost than she was—nearly rabid with lust. Pressing his forehead to hers, gripping her tightly, squeezing her…holding her…

/Wait./

Were his eyes /glowing/?

With a ragged bellow, Orm relinquished his hold on her arms and dragged her beneath the waves—into the deep. Wrists newly released, Reyna pressed her palms against his chest as the water rushed around them, fighting against him. But it was no use. He was far stronger than her, and she had no hope of defeating him.

Her lungs filled as she sucked in a violent gulp of salt water, assailed with an onslaught of sensations. Her skin sang from every caress of the sea, from his touch. Her sheath clenched as she rushed toward oblivion, catalyzed by some unknown force. Pleasure abound, she forgot the silvery hue of light that haloed his eyes. Lost to the sea, she succumbed to ultimate pleasure. The undulating pulsating pressure of completion. The crescendo of their joining. Orm bit her neck as her muscles clamped down on him, and her nails dug into his arms. She clung to him desperately as he fucked her orgasm from her mercilessly, drawing her deeper into the sea.

There was only him, his hulking body covering hers, every muscle taught and corded, rippling like the water as he drove into her. Nothing but his all-consuming kiss, his abysmal sex, and aggressive possession. She’d never known anything like it.

He heaved over her, pressing as deep as he could manage as he came. She felt the hot bursts of his ejaculation lash against her and the powerful jerk of his hard cock with each spasm of pleasure. His large body shuddered against hers as he held her close. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest. But he didn’t pull out. He kept still, panting in the water. Then he kissed her. Slowly, gently—so different than before. Calm, measured, and drawn, he was careful and calculating. Gone was the frenzy. Now, he was gentle….

“Are you alright?” He murmured against her lips.

Reyna nodded, rendered speechless.

“Good.” He purred, smirking arrogantly. He had not relinquished his hold on her waist, nor had he pulled out. The water seemed to still, and she glanced around. A colorful school of fish swam by, and in the distance, a beautiful display of coral could be seen.

He snatched her chin, drawing her attention back to him.

“Ah-ah, little nymph, I’m not done with you yet.”