Viviane’s POV
“Cry, Mermaid!” a sharp lash slices into my back, forcing a yelp from my lips.
Screams and sobs surround me on all sides, children crying out for someone, anyone to save them. Their small voices crack and break, a cacophony of squeals and squawks echoing around the vaulted chamber. I wish they would stop. No one is ever going to rescue us, and their constant begging only eggs on the Pearl Reapers.
The lashes fall harder, the shrieks grow louder, and pearls fall like rain into the water around us.
“That’s it, harder!” The head Reaper praises his men. “Give them more!”
We give nicknames to all the Reapers. We know little about them, other than that they belong to the Bloodstone pack. We’ve never seen them in their wolf forms, so we name them based on their human appearances.
We call the head reaper Cyclops – christened thus for the jagged scar running through his left eye socket; his sight solely dependent on his right eye. Unfortunately his aim is no less precise for the disability.
His whip cracks through the air, carving crimson fissures into my back one after the other. Tears stream down my cheeks and I howl with pain. As they drip from my face my tears transform into lustrous white orbs, so solid they splash into the murky red water.
I know water is supposed to be clear and blue, but nothing here is as it should be. Each morning the wolves pump fresh saltwater into our tank, giving us a few moments of blissful peace in the element for which we were born. Within an hour, so much blood and bodily fluid has leaked into the pool that it becomes unrecognizable; dirty and diluted.
My tail rests against the hard white tiles lining the tank floor. The chilly pool is very shallow, preventing even the youngest children from submerging far enough to escape the Reapers.
My friend Isla bobs toward me, wrapping me in a hug as we watch the little ones around us wail pitifully. It wasn’t so long ago that Isla and I were in their position, but as the last generation dwindled away beneath the surgeon’s blades, we slowly took their places. Soon we too will leave, either for land or the grave.
“It can’t be much longer, Viviane.” Isla whispers. “You turned thirteen last week.”
“I know.” I don’t need reminding. Mermaids are only allowed to live in the aquatic farms until they are old enough to undergo The Cut, at which point they are taken from the blood sea – never to be seen again.
Many don’t survive the operation; the blood loss alone is lethal. The recovery is worse. After the doctors complete their Frankensteinish reconfiguration of precious bone and muscle, eviscerating our tails and replacing them with legs, we will be taken from the only place we’ve ever known.
Survivors of The Cut are transferred to the land farms. They must learn to survive in a new body, never forgetting the feel of their tail, never feeling whole without the water.
“Are you afraid?” Isla asks softly. She is a few months younger than I, and her heart has always been more tender than my own. I want to comfort her, to lie and pretend to be brave, but honesty is sacrosanct here. The only thing any of us have is each other; that bond cannot be betrayed.
“Of course I am.” I admit, another tear escaping.
Reapers in training, young wolves aspiring to join the ranks of slave drivers, drag fine seives through the water around us, collecting the pearls stolen from our bodies. The tears are harder to produce the longer we stay in captivity; many young mermaids cry themselves blind or lose the ability to heal their wounds after so many years of constant violence.
“Maybe you’ll survive.” Isla offers hopefully. “Maybe we both will. We can go to the land farms together, find our families.”
I smile weakly and nod, tucking my head down as the strikes continue to fall. The idea is soothing, but we all know it will never come to pass.
There is but one law in our world: beauty from pain.
We are born in pain. We live in pain. And we die in pain.
That is the only guarantee we have in this wretched world.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Mermaids were supposed to be blessed above all others, the personification of all that is mysterious and beautiful in the sea. When the world was new the gods bound my people to the water, just as they bound shifters to the land. We were never meant to leave the shore, but fate had other ideas.
For centuries mermaids were considered sacred – untouchable. It only took one man, one man brave and foolish enough to break the laws of nature, to show the world that harming us would not incur some terrible celestial vengeance. When it became clear that only wealth and prosperity would follow a mermaid’s capture, life as we knew it ended.
Our greatest gift became our greatest curse. We were stolen from the sea one by one, until all the magic was drained from the oceans: There would be no more pearls to harvest from the sandy seabeds; no more underwater waterfalls to explore; no more luminous creatures to guide fishermen safely through the dark or scatter glowing particles across distant beaches.
When the shifters descended we discovered the Gods’ failings. In awarding us so much beauty, they did not leave enough room for strength. We were defenseless against the shifters’ power and technology, incapable of challenging their physical dominance.
They herded us into aquatic farms, crude tanks of saltwater where they could raise us like livestock ravenous for the pearls our tears become when parted from our bodies. The pearl-farming industry exploded overnight, and mermaids went from hallowed ocean guardians to slaves, destined to live out their miserable existences beneath the crack of leather whips.
The doors situated at the far end of the room squeak open, and a trio of Harbingers enter. Unlike the Pearl Reapers, the Harbingers only appear if someone is going to be taken for The Cut. They are ordinary looking men, but their presence sends terror through every mermaid in the false sea.
“No.” Isla cries, crushing me to her in a panic, “No, no, no.”
We all know they are coming for me. I am the oldest in the tank now. I rub Isla’s back in soothing circles. “It’s okay.” I lie, “It’ll be okay.”
“I can’t stay here without you!” She whimpers.
“Yes you can.” I promise, “One day we’ll be together again.”
Strong hands catch me beneath my arms and yank me from the water, and Isla sobs as we’re ribbed away from each other. I reach for her in vain, much too far away now to hold her one last time.
I see the other children watching me with wide eyes as I’m dragged away. Every muscle in my body wants to fight, but I don’t want to make it worse for them, I don’t want them to fear the inevitable any more than they have to. I try to remain still, but emotion chokes me and tears clatter to the ground around me like a trail of opalescent breadcrumbs.
Being out of the water feels strange and wrong. Once out of sight of the pool, I wriggle in my captor’s arms, earning a sharp smack and an order to be still. I’m carted through white-walled hallways smelling of chemicals, silently praying for my life.
When we finally reach the operating room I’m dropped onto a metal slab, my arms and tail tied down with thick nylon straps. I jerk against the restraints reflexively, fear spiking my pulse now that this moment has finally arrived. Whatever happens on the other side, I know excruciating pain must come first.
Doctors in white coats and face masks loom above me, silent and foreboding. A blinding yellow light is switched on as medieval looking metal tools are laid out on a tray next to me. A young nurse in green scrubs presses a gag to my lips. I panic, refusing to take it, but the woman clamps her fingers on either side of my jaw and forces it in.
The tears, so hard to summon in the tank amidst constant assault, come freely now. Pearls clatter to the floor around me, and I’m certain the surgeons are smiling behind their masks.
The world goes fuzzy around the edges as they raise their scalpels, and my muscles tense in anticipation for the pain. I feel the blades rest against my scales a second before they push in, the pressure immediately followed by pure agony.
I scream into the gag as blood gushes out of me. Pain and powerlessness are the only things I’ve ever known – but this is something else entirely. This is excruciating beyond description. It doesn’t feel as if they are cutting my body but my soul itself.
The scalpels are relentless, and the metallic scent of blood fills the room. My head feels light and fuzzy, but I’m not sure if it’s the pain or blood loss.
I scream until I cannot scream anymore, until my voice is a hoarse whisper behind my gag. I beg for them to stop, for them to kill me, just end the pain.
My muffled pleas fall on deaf ears. The surgeons continue to rip me apart, and as the tears continue to fall from my eyes, I see one of the nurses bend down to retrieve something from the floor. The doctors pause for a moment, though there is no relief from the pain. My eyes follow theirs to the nurse’s gloved hand, now hovering above me.
A blood red pearl sits in her palm, and a roomful of gleaming, greedy eyes land on my face.
They are the last things I see before the world goes black.
Viviane’s POVThe operation lasts hours. I hover on the edge of existence, wavering in and out of consciousness. I feel every last slice of their blades, every new tendon sewn into my muscles and nail hammered into my bones.Arteries are rerouted, nerves and blood vessels are carefully fused with tissues unwillingly donated by other mermaids who did not survive their own surgeries. This will be my future if I do not make it off of the operating table. My corpse will be picked over by these vultures, my bones stolen and inserted into the body of another.I see everything, the biohazard coolers from which new body parts are continuously extracted, the red disposal bins where my mutilated tail lays in tatters.My scales, an unusual combination of blues, pinks and purples, are spread out on a separate counter – awaiting processing. Our bodies might be cannon fodder for the Bloodstone pack, but not an ounce of the riches we contain go to waste. The reapers tell us our scales are considered
Viviane’s POVThe wolves will never let us go, and on land we don’t stand a chance against them. They have night vision and supernatural hearing, they can track a smell from miles away, they can run 10 times faster and tear us to shreds with nothing more than their teeth.There is no doubt what fate awaits us if we’re caught. Escapees don’t go back to the camp, they are killed on sight, and not humanely.The river is in sight now, but behind us howls announce the guards’ pursuit.We exchange terrified glances as we run, and suddenly Isla’s father is shouting above the wind. “Get to the river!”I don’t understand, that was already the plan. Then I realize he is no longer beside me, I slow down, craning my neck over my shoulder to see him running back to face the wolves. “Come on, Viviane!” My mother urges me, sounding as if she is on the verge of hysterics.“But—”“He made his choice!” She cuts me off. “We agreed that you would come first.”I start to protest again, but she does not le
*Content Warning*Five Years LaterViviane’s POVI wake on a pillow littered with pearls.I’ve been crying in my sleep again, subconsciously battling the demons that always appear in the unguarded realms of slumber. I whip the blankets from my body, sending gems flying, and slide out of bed.My own screams echo in my ears as I move swiftly toward the bathroom. I’m completely alert, drowning in adrenaline. I feel exactly as I did five years ago, the dream sent my brain into full flight mode but left my body unable to flee.I yank the shower handle down, stepping out of the way just in time for hot water to burst from the showerhead. I strip frantically, leaving my nightclothes in a haphazard pile on the floor, before disappearing into the steam.The water is too hot, it scalds every scrap of skin it touches, but I don’t flinch away. I need the heat, I need it to wash away the feeling of Mordred’s hands on my body. I grab a sharply bristled scrub brush from a hook on the wall, dousing i
Caspian’s POVShe’s perfect. I knew the moment I smelled her. My wolf went beserk, demanding I find her immediately, demanding we claim what is ours. I thought I could wait until the end of the competition, to do my duty and see out the judging.All thoughts of duty went out the window the moment I heard her voice. I knew she was the one singing, rather than the pretty brunette on stage. That incredible, bewitching voice belonged to my mate, and the woman on stage was not my mate – not even close.Yesterday I might have taken the lip syncer home with me, but now I have no interest in her. I have no interest in anyone but the trembling shifter in front of me. Half of her face is obscured by dark glasses, and a staff is leaning against the wall to our left.If she’s blind her other senses must be so heightened that she can sense the things around her. Her head is tilted up, directly at my face, and when she turned she’d immediately began backing away from me, her attention never waveri
ASTERION SCHOLARS TOURNAMENTEligible seniors enrolled at any institution in the Asterion School District may apply. The tournament will comprise three rounds, each dedicated to one of the following subjects: metamorphological science, inter-species history and shifter literature. Competitors must be 18 years of age or have signed permission by a parent or guardian to enter. Enter to win: First place with $5000 cash prize, second place with $2500 cash prize, third place with $1000 cash prize.Viviane’s POV“Come on, Viviane. It’s five thousand dollars!” My best friend, Kiera, is jumping up and down in front of the school bulletin board.I shake my head, “I can’t get up on a stage in front of that many people.”Kiera rolls her eyes. “Oh please, I know you sang for Nerissa last week. Though I still don’t understand why you’d help that selfish cow.”“That was different,” I argue without conviction. “No one could see me.” Well, someone saw me, but I’m not counting him.“But you still did
Viviane’s POV“I’m sorry!” I immediately squeak. “I didn’t mean… You… I–”Caspian closes the remaining distance between us, coming so close I have to tilt my head all the way back to see his face. I try to back away, but he catches my nape in one powerful hand. “You what, Viviane?”His fingers send bolts of electricity all the way down my spine. “You startled me.” I admit weakly.“You didn’t seem very startled.” He growls, squeezing the back of my neck. “It looked like you knew exactly what you were doing.”I’m shutting down, preparing for the physical retribution I’m sure is coming. “I swear I didn’t mean to.”Caspian studies me for a long moment, watching as I twist myself into knots waiting for his attack. I flinch when he releases me, stumbling to regain my balance. “Prove it.”I blink in confusion, amazed that he hasn’t hit me yet. “I– how?”He thinks for a moment, cocking his head to the side. “Lend me some money. The fights are about to begin – I think I’ll place a few bets.”I
Caspian’s POVViviane jerks around the moment Courtney pulls the glasses from her eyes. I don’t know why I let the she-wolf bully my mate this way, but then again, I rarely know what I’m doing when it comes to Viviane. I want to be with her every second of every day, but I have no idea how to express this to her. I want to spoil and shower her with affection, but it seems like all I actually end up doing is teasing her.Granted, I do love the way she blushes and squirms, but surely there is more to being mates than this. Even as the thoughts race through my head, I do not regret letting Courtney take Viviane’s sunglasses – not one bit. Because now Viviane is using me to shield her face from the room, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Her eyes are the exact shade of a tropical sea – a bright turquoise unlike anything I’ve seen before. Her cheekbones are high and sharp, accenting her pert nose and full lips.She’s not just pretty, or striking, or even gorgeous. She is everyth
Viviane’s POVMy footsteps echo through the empty halls as I depart the library, my shoes emitting a slow, steady click as my weary feet carry me from another long study session. While other teenagers spend their weekends relaxing and going on dates, I spend mine holed up in the stacks, trying to make up for all the years I went without an education.Kiera and the teachers have no idea how much my good grades cost me. Despite what my best friend thinks, academics do not come easily to me, but I’m determined to have a future beyond tears and hard labor.I’m almost to the front door when I hear it: cheerful chatter and high girlish giggles.Courtney, Madison, and Nerissa round the corner ahead, their faces bearing none of the happiness their voices suggest . They walk straight for me, eyes glinting and mouths twisted into smirks.Squaring my shoulders, I prepare for what will certainly be an unpleasant encounter. “Courtney, Nerissa.” I greet them. “Thinking about transferring to Asterio