The Abyssal King Only Wants Me Chapter 1

Before they passed, my parents left me a legacy I never asked for: a merman. In this coastal town, they are bred like thoroughbreds—expensive, beautiful, and meant for one thing: the continuation of the line.

But nature had been unkind to me. I was born with a withered right leg, a shriveled limb that forced me into a permanent, uneven hitch. And my merman, Caspian, loathed me for it.

"A freak like you should just crawl away and die," he’d snarl, his voice a haunting melody laced with poison. "You aren't fit to touch my scales, let alone carry a brood."

After he smashed the last of my mother’s porcelain vases in another fit of rage, I fled. I limped out into the rain, my heart a ragged thing, and found myself wandering into the Abyssal Aquarium on the edge of the docks.

In the dim, blue light of the back gallery, a stunning silver-white tail breached the surface of a massive tank. It didn't splash; it glided, coiling around my waist with a firm, cool pressure that felt like a caress rather than a restraint.

The merman’s eyes were the color of the deep Atlantic—pure, piercing blue. He tilted his head, guiding my gaze to a weathered wooden sign hanging by the glass:

[DEFECTIVE STOCK. TRADE-INS WELCOME.]

His eyes shimmered with what looked like unshed tears as he exhaled a string of iridescent bubbles.

"Mistress..." he whispered, the sound vibrating in my very bones. "Take me home."

It was time. Time to trade in the old, bitter ghost in my house for something new.

But when I finally told Caspian to move out, he didn't flee to the ocean. He blocked the door with his powerful tail, his eyes bloodshot and frantic.

"You’re throwing me away?" he choked out, his voice cracking. "For that... that piece of trash?"

* * *

I woke up before the sun hit the bay today, hitching my way down to the docks. My hip ached with every step, but I pushed through it.

I found a trawler that had just hauled in a deep-sea catch and bought a heavy leather pouch filled with fresh, Grade-A pearls. The merchant counted my silver coins, his grin widening with every clink.

"Living the high life with that merman of yours, huh, Jo?" he chuckled. "Treating him like a king. I bet he keeps you real comfortable at night."

My face went ghost-white. I didn't wait for my change; I just turned and limped away as fast as my cane would allow.

Behind me, the predictable whispers started, sharp as sea glass.

"She’s delusional. A cripple trying to keep a Thoroughbred? That merman hates the ground she limps on. Word is he tries to bolt every time she turns her back."

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, trying to outrun the voices. By the time I reached the house, Caspian was already awake.

He was in one of his moods. I heard the crash of glass before I even opened the door.

The moment he saw me, his tail lashed the floor, propelling him toward me with terrifying speed. The sharp tip of his fin flicked across my cheek, leaving a stinging, hot trail of red. He didn't even look at the wound. He snatched the leather pouch from my hand, rummaging through it with a sneer.

"You’re late, little gimp. Please tell me you didn't buy more bottom-shelf refuse."

He popped a large, lustrous pearl into his mouth, crunching it with disdain. "Tastes like silt. Mr. Blackwood’s merman gets the pearls imported from the South Pacific. Why am I stuck with a bargain-bin owner?"

I covered my stinging cheek, my voice barely a whisper. "I was there when the boat docked, Caspian. I got the best they had. Mr. Blackwood’s staff hadn't even arrived yet."

He let out a sharp, cold huff and turned his back on me, his tail splashing water across my skirts.

I sank to the floor, my good knee hitting the wood with a thud, and began to pick up the shards of the life he was systematically destroying. When I went into his room to change the water in his tank, I found something tucked behind the artificial kelp.

A few of my missing gold sovereigns. And a damp map of North Point.

There was a circle drawn around Mr. Blackwood’s estate.

I didn't need Caspian to tell me. I knew. He wanted a man like Blackwood—towering, athletic, wealthy beyond measure. Not a lonely, limping landlady with nothing but a crumbling seaside house and a heart that was too easy to bruise.

I dried the map, folded it neatly, and left it on the stand by the tank.

Later that evening, as I was balancing the ledgers, a harsh scraping sound broke the silence. Before I could stand, Caspian burst into the study, his eyes glowing a manic violet-red.

"Did you touch my tank? You took my coins and my map!"

He lunged, his fingers—webbed and clawed—pinning my wrists to the desk. "Listen to me, you pathetic gimp. If you think stealing my things will make me roll over and breed with you, you're wrong. You’re a broken thing. You don't deserve to be a mother."

His words were a serrated blade, twisting in my chest. I clenched my fists, fighting the sob that threatened to break me.

"I was changing the water," I said, my voice trembling but flat. "I put them on the stand so the map wouldn't rot."

Caspian’s fire died instantly. The room fell into a suffocating silence, so quiet I could hear my tears hitting the hardwood.

A flash of something—regret? Confusion?—crossed his handsome face. He reached out, his hand hovering near my shoulder.

I didn't wait. I wrenched myself away and stumbled out the door.