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

*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

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

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 POV“Viviane!” Caspian’s voice is rough and wild, and his fist smashes into the heavy wooden door when the handle refuses to turn.“She’s not here!” I call without thinking. This can’t be happening. I need help, but I can’t explain my situation without exposing my identity.Some of the horrible tension in the air dissipates, and the incessant pounding stops, but I can hear Caspian’s furious breathing. “Then who is there?” He almost sounds amused – almost.This time I do not answer, desperately clinging to my last sliver of sanity.“Viviane.” A shiver runs down my spine. He says my name as both warning and reprimand.Silence pulls taught between us, and my heart sinks. There’s no way out of this. One way or another, he’s going to–*SMASH*The door bursts open, splinters of wood flying in every direction as the destroyed frame hangs precariously from its hinges.Caspian stalks toward me, his ferocious blue eyes finding me immediately in the dim light.I’d almost forgotten how