The salt air crackled with electricity as Isaac's boot heels slammed against the marble floors, each step a thunderous pronouncement of his approach. The palace staff scattered like minnows before a shark, their eyes darting away from the Sea King's penetrating gaze.

He didn't need the trembling water magic to sense her—he'd been tracking her scent since she'd crossed into his waters three days ago. The alchemist. The traitor-Emperor's whore. Now she was here, in his domain, her body swollen with another man's spawn.

The door to her chambers splintered as his shoulder connected with it. She whirled, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes widened. Perfect.

Before she could scream, he had her pinned against the stone wall, one massive hand around her throat and the other splayed possessively over her stomach. "You think you can hide?" His voice was a growl, low and dangerous, as his thumb brushed the pulse fluttering in her neck. "You think the sea doesn't whisper all its secrets to me?"

Her hands scrabbled at his wrist, but he only tightened his grip, leaning in so his breath—spiced with brine and something darker—fanned her face. "That child you're carrying," he murmured, his fingers pressing into her abdomen until she whimpered, "it's mine now. Everything that washes up on my shores belongs to me."

He released her throat only to drag his fingers down her body, cupping her breast roughly through her gown. "And make no mistake, little alchemist—I always collect what's mine."

Outside, the ocean roared in agreement, waves crashing against the cliffs with renewed fury as if nature itself acknowledged his claim.