"Look, I never asked to be royalty. Or brilliant. Or unfairly attractive.
But here we are.
I’m Ione. Son of the sea. Twin to the shy one.
Engaged to a vampire with trust issues.
And yes—I am as exhausting as I look.
Come for the charm. Stay for the drama.
Bring wine."
Ione POV
🖤 Tides and Thrones — The Morning After
The scent of hay still clung to her skin.
Wisteria came here to forget—about Archer, about Ceto, about the kiss that wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
But water doesn’t rinse away guilt.
Or confusion.
Or the aching twist in her chest every time she remembers Ceto’s silence.
And then he appeared.
Dark. Changed. Tentacled. Real.
Ceto: “You shouldn’t be alone down here.”
Wisteria: “I’m never alone—not with you haunting every damn hallway.”
They fought. Again.
But this time, something cracked.
Ceto (quietly): “I’m trying to protect—”
Wisteria: “Bella.”
The name shattered the room.
Wisteria: “Who’s Bella?”
Ceto: “Forget it.”
But she couldn’t.
Not now.
Not when the name tasted like grief.
Next on Tides and Thrones — Morrigan asks Bridget: why Midwifery?
She was colder than I imagined.
And exactly my type.
She didn’t laugh at my jokes.
She didn’t soften.
She walked in like she was doing me a favor just by standing there.
Morrigan Ravenwood is not the girl I dreamed of.
But I might never dream of anyone else again.
The stars shimmered above the ocean, lanterns casting soft glows across the silk-draped tables. Music swelled—bold, sweeping, romantic.
Ione stood at the edge of the dance floor, nursing a drink and watching the chaos of vampire-merfolk pairings attempt rhythm. His foot tapped unconsciously, resisting the urge to correct them all.
Then a cool hand slipped into his.
“Come on,” Morrigan said, lips twitching. “Before someone twirls into the cake.”
Ione blinked. “You… want to dance?”
She raised a brow. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“You don’t exactly give 'waltz under the stars' energy.”
“Would you rather I stab someone?”
“Depends—are you still wearing that dagger in your garter?”
Morrigan rolled her eyes and pulled him onto the floor.
The moment he took her waist, she moved. Fluid. Confident. In perfect time.
Ione stared.
“Wait—you can dance?”
She smirked. “You thought I couldn’t?”
“I just didn’t think vampires had rhythm.”
“I’ve had centuries to practice. You think all those balls were just for bloodletting?”
He spun her, a real grin tugging at his mouth.
“You’re actually good.”
“I’m always good.”
He dipped her slightly, leaning in. “Careful, Morrigan. I might fall in love with you.”
She met his eyes, breath catching just slightly.
“Then don’t step on my dress,” she murmured. “I hate losing shoes to sentiment.”
They danced until the song faded—two dark stars orbiting each other, locked in rhythm neither wanted to break.
“You lost your shoes?” I asked.
“Liberated them,” she said, like it was nothing.
She looked like magic. Like the moon had chosen me.
I told her that—then immediately regretted it.
But she smiled.
“I liked that.”
We stood in quiet warmth.
Then she grinned.
“So… when do I get to see the tail again?”
I nearly died.
Eryx POV
--------------
He looked so serious, walking beside me like he hadn’t just married me in front of the world.
“Where are your shoes?” he asked.
“Liberated them,” I said. The sand was annoying.
Then he looked at me and said—
“You looked like the moon came to life to marry me.”
My heart stopped.
He blushed.
I wanted to kiss him again.
“So… when do I get to see the tail again?”
He choked. Worth it.
Selene POV
Next on Tide and Thrones - Eryx gives in to his vampire wife...
The night before the wedding - Wisteria and Ceto - Meet Archer
Plum Gen
Wisteria stood on the balcony, arms folded tightly across her chest, watching the moonlight paint silver streaks across the courtyard below. The night was too quiet. Too still. Her skin buzzed with frustration.
Down below, Archer Moon wrangled horses shirtless again—of course. Smirking. Flexing. Making it look like some theatrical rebellion. She almost laughed.
But then—she sensed him before she saw him.
Ceto.
Leaning in the archway, shadowed by stone and moonlight. His hair was down, brushing his shoulders, still damp from patrol. He wore grey joggers and a white shirt that clung to him in places it shouldn’t.
Wisteria didn’t turn. “If you’re here to lecture me, save your breath.”
“I’m not,” he said quietly.
She glanced back. “You always watch me like that?”
“Only when you’re about to make a mistake.”
She stepped toward him. Barefoot. Robe barely tied. Voice low. “And what mistake would that be, Commander?”
Ceto’s jaw twitched.
“You know this can’t happen,” he said.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “So dramatic. I just wanted company.”
His eyes flicked down—at the robe, the bare skin, the shadows between them.
“It’s not pretend.” His voice was hoarse. “You’re not just anyone. You’re—”
“I’m tired of hearing that.” Her shoulders dropped. “Good night, Ceto.”
He hesitated like he might say more. But then he gave a small, pained nod… and left.
She stayed rooted on the balcony, throat tight, heart pounding.
The air in the hall was warmer, buzzing with torchlight and the faint smell of spiced cake. Wisteria descended the staircase with deliberate calm, every step controlled, every breath heavy.
She spotted Archer Moon lounging on the bench, shirtless (again), polishing an apple on his jeans like he lived in a tavern, not a royal castle. His boots were kicked off. He looked up, saw her, and smirked.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Her Royal Moodiness.”
Wisteria narrowed her eyes. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Neither are you,” he said, biting into the apple. “But here we are.”
She walked past him. Then doubled back, stopping in front of him with a tight glare.
He gestured lazily at her robe. “Let me guess. Commander Killjoy pushed you away again?”
“Shut up, Archer.”
“I’m just saying, for a girl raised in a palace, you sure like chasing unavailable men.”
She stepped closer. “And you sure like mouthing off for someone who works with horses.”
He grinned, leaning forward. “What can I say? I’ve always had a thing for sharp-tongued sea girls.”
Wisteria didn’t flinch. “You think this is flirting?”
“I think this is you, looking for trouble.”
“I think you overestimate your importance.”
His grin deepened. “Nah. I think you underestimate how often you end up standing right here. With me.”
The air stretched between them.
Thick with unsaid things. With tension. With heat neither of them acknowledged.
She looked him over slowly. “Get some sleep, Moon. You’ll need it.”
And then she walked off.
Didn’t look back.
Didn’t need to.
Because she knew he was watching her all the way up the stairs.
Then—
She appeared.
Selene stepped onto the aisle barefoot, her heels swinging lazily from two fingers as if she’d ditched them seconds before arriving. Her gown was white lace—tight. Scandalously tight! She moved like she was gliding—bare toes sinking into the sand like she owned it.
Her blonde hair was twisted into a romantic updo, loose strands framing her face. On her head sat aher silver crown—elegant, feminine, deceptively innocent.
Every step was slow. Deliberate. Daring.
She smiled straight at Eryx.
He froze.
Absolutely, completely froze.
Eryx stood beneath the altar, pale and wide-eyed, hands twitching at his sides like his brain was screaming run, but his body had forgotten how to move.
“She’s going to ruin me,” Eryx thought, as she walked toward him like the tide itself—unavoidable, unstoppable, breathtaking.
And gods help him… he kind of wanted her to.
Selene said “Let’s get married”—but Eryx didn’t know that meant “Brace yourself.”
Next: The Vows. The chaos. The kiss… and of course smut....
A few minutes passed. Selene remained ankle-deep in the water, arms wrapped around herself, watching the waves for any sign of him.
And then—he surfaced.
Just his head and shoulders at first, hair dripping, chest rising and falling with cautious breaths. His tail stayed hidden beneath the waves.
Selene’s lips curled into a satisfied little smirk.
She hadn’t scared him off completely.
Eryx hovered just out of reach, his ocean-blue eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, voice low and guarded.
Selene tilted her head. “I could ask you the same.”
He frowned. “I live out here. You don’t.”
She took a step closer, water swirling around her thighs now. “I just wanted to see you.”
Eryx flinched like the words stung. “You were… looking for me?”
Selene gave a small shrug. “Isn’t that what engaged people do? Sneak around in the moonlight to spy on their future spouse?”
He looked at her as if she were a wild animal—beautiful but entirely unpredictable.
“I thought vampires were cold,” he muttered, eyes drifting over her soaked nightdress before snapping back up.
Selene grinned, teeth gleaming. “That’s only when we’re dead inside. I’m still deciding.”
Eryx blinked, uncertain whether to retreat or stay exactly where he was. His heart thudded against his ribs. She was everything he’d been warned about—dangerous, bold, intoxicating.
And she was walking toward him again.
He panicked.
“Don't—” he held up a hand. “Please. Just… stop there.”
Selene paused mid-step, arching a brow. “You always this nervous, ocean boy?”
Eryx flushed. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“And yet…” she whispered, her eyes gleaming. “Here I am.”
He looked at me like I was a storm.
Beautiful. Dangerous. Unpredictable.
He was right.
I reached out—curious.
But the moment my fingers neared the water, near where I knew his tail was—
He vanished again.
Just like that.
I laughed. Loud. Free.
And sat in the surf, soaking wet, moonlight on my skin.
Waiting.
Because I knew he’d come back.
Selene Pov
