Finally, the war between gods and demons had endedâand technically, it ended in favor of the demons. However, they had to forge a pact with the gods: to claim Neverland, their promised dark lord must bear an offspring with any magical creature he desiredâbe it Mermaids, Sirens, dark fairies, or witchesâso long as they had willingly remained in Neverland. Once the offspring of the promised demon lord is born, Neverland shall be claimed by the Dark forces. Until then, no Azuras (ogres, fomories and beasts of the dark realm), except the promised dark lord himself, may remain in Neverland.
It had been days since the war ended, and the boy said to be the promised dark lord lay naked on the sand. His skin glistened as if kissed by moonlight, his chest rising slowly, steadily. Dark hair clung to his brow, soaked with salt and starlight. One hand curled against his chest; the other held something that glowed faintlyâa feather, warm to the touch, though soaked in sea. The tide cradled him gently, as if the ocean itself regretted letting him go. He didn't stir. He was dreaming of being with her.
On the shore, a cluster of mermaids emerged, their wet bodies glittering like oil-slicked pearls beneath the moon. They hovered just beyond the tide, hair floating like seaweed, eyes glinting with something far too hungry. "Look at himâ¦" one purred. "He's divine." "He's dangerous," said another, licking her lips. "I can feel it. There's power in himâancient. Sleeping." "I'll wake it up," giggled a third. "Maybe I'll be the one,". "My womb will carry his heirs. Imagine how glorious they'd be." His child will open the gate. His blood will break the chains. His body will bring us power."
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"You always want the cursed ones," one snapped. "Because cursed ones are always chosen," she hissed. "And I want to be chosen."
They argued in soft, musical snarlsâeach one drawn to the boy's sleeping form like moths to a flame.
This was only the beginning. The boy had become a walking bountyâa living prophecy. Magical beings watched him with hungry eyes. Mermaids, sirens, witches, and dark fairiesâall of them dreamed of tempting him, seducing him, bearing his heir. They wanted their bellies swollen with his legacy, to be the vessel of the chosen one. They wanted only one thing: power. position, legacy, control. In him slept ancient magic. In their eyes, ambition shimmered. He was no longer just a boy. He was a throne made of flesh. And none of them cared what he'd lost to get here.
But the one he longed to have children with was long gone. She had defied gods and demons alike to protect himâand paid the price. Her magic was stripped, her memories erased, and she was cast into the world to live as a mere mortal. No one remembered her sacrifice. Least of all, the boy for whom she made the sacrifice.
The mermaids' bickering woke him. He rose from the sand and strode toward them, moonlight trailing across his damp skin. His voice was sensuousâlow, almost mocking.
"Each of you will have the chance to bear my heir," he said, and the air trembled. "But first, I must find herâthe one who betrayed me." "We swore to kill for each other, never each other... but I suppose everything changes. Now, one of us will have to kill the other."