I traded my most precious gift—my singing voice—for a pair of legs, becoming the merman wife of the paranoid Victor Cadwell. For thousands of years, I stood by his side, only to discover he had been raising another—a female mermaid by the Azurebrook River.

Every night, I watched them entwined in the river’s embrace, their passion laid bare beneath the moonlight.

“Ah... be gentle,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with both pain and want. “I’ve already wounded your heart with the Soul Ember Stone. I can’t take it so rough...”

Vic’s tone darkened, and his movements grew harsher. “You’ll endure it whether you can or not. If you dare harm her again, I’ll take back the Soul Ember Stone and make you wish for death over the hell I’ll unleash!”

The mermaid bit her lip, her breath hitching. “Like this? I’m so scared...”

Their gasps and moans echoed through the night, piercing me like shards of ice. For the man I once risked everything to save, I had forsaken the promise of eternal love.

I bided my time, waiting for the Gaze of the Frozen Veil to open. When it did, I would sever this bond and consign us to the six realms of reincarnation, never to meet again.

“Seraphina,” Vic’s voice rumbled in my memory, “never show your face to Elysia again, or I’ll cast you into the deepest pits of hell, where you’ll burn in eternal flames and be consumed by the inferno!”

I recalled the sting of his teeth as he bit my shoulder, his punishment burning deeper than his words. I had begged for mercy, tears streaming down my face, my voice trembling. “Lord Vic, I’ll obey... but will you spend more time with me?”

“You little seductress...” His voice disappeared into the shadows of the red tent.

Dazed, I stumbled back to my residence. As I opened the door, my maid Maxine Zane greeted me with unrestrained excitement.

“Girl, the Midnight Orchid has bloomed! It’s really blooming!”

I froze. The spiritual flower, Midnight Orchid, was a symbol of divine love, one Vic had sought to prove our bond was blessed by heaven and earth.

For three thousand years, he nurtured the flower with unwavering devotion, watering it daily. Now, as it finally bloomed, he held it gently in his hands, a triumphant smile lighting up his face—a sight that should have filled me with joy, but instead, it pierced my heart with a sorrow I couldn’t escape.

Seeing my despondent mood, Maxine quietly helped me bathe and change.

In the bronze mirror, my flawless figure bore a cruel contradiction—a large, terrible scar across my back. Maxine’s silent tears fell as she whispered, trembling with indignation.

“Who dared to hurt you, my lady? If Lord Victor finds them, he’ll surely make them pay!”

I gave her a bitter smile, shaking my head. “He won’t.”

I remembered the All Souls' Night vividly. I had been watching lanterns on Hallowood Lane when the sudden Hellfire engulfed me. The searing flames tore through my back, leaving me bloody and broken.

Victor Caldwell’s fury had been boundless. He slaughtered half the specters in the Underworld and, in desperation, cut his heart’s blood to save me. The pain of the Hellfire plagued him every night, robbing him of sleep. et he still knelt before the Crone of the East, casting aside his dignity."

“If you can give up the cold marble bed,” he pleaded, “I’ll pay any price!”

To ease my torment, he sacrificed half of his strength to subdue a serpent and acquire the luxury marble bed for me. When he appeared before me, scars littered his body, and my heart twisted painfully.

“Victor,” I whispered, unable to mask my distress, “is it truly worth it?”

He held my gaze, his kiss tender yet resolute. “For you, even death holds no regrets.”

Time passed, and one day, Victor entered my room carrying a bag of honey cakes. He wrapped me in his arms, his voice soft and soothing.

“I heard you were upset,” he said. “So, I brought you these from the human world. Have a taste...”

He held a piece to my lips, but the sight of the cakes dredged up a memory too painful to ignore. The river water had soaked a similar paper bag, discarded carelessly on the shore while he and Seraphina entwined in their forbidden passion.

My stomach churned, and I retched violently, tears spilling uncontrollably down my cheeks.

He patted my back, his expression darkening as he barked orders at the ghost messengers. “Why haven’t you caught the culprit yet? What use are you if you can’t protect her?”

The irony struck me like a blade. The "culprit" stood right before me, feigning concern with an act so convincing it would have fooled anyone—anyone but me.

In the underworld, I was defenseless. Victor had once promised to retrieve the Soul Ember Stone to protect me.

“It’s small and powerful,” he had said, “perfect for your self-defense.”

He’d left brimming with determination that day but returned crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Elysia,” he said, his tone filled with regret. “I was too late. The Soul Ember Stone had already been sold.”

The memory of his words cut deeper now, knowing the truth: the stone wasn’t lost. It had been given away—to her.

"Don’t be afraid. Even without the Soul Ember Stone, I can protect you for the rest of my life. I won’t let anything hurt you—ever!"

How ironic. The person who claimed to shield me from harm is the one who hurts me the most now.

My tears fell silently, turning into crystal-clear stones as they hit the ground.

"Elysia, don’t cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this! If you’re upset, yell at me, hit me—do anything—but don’t hurt yourself!"

I looked at the man before me, his face painted with concern. He said he loved me, yet faint marks of another woman’s touch clung to his neck, betraying his words.

During his attempt to comfort me, my pajamas were tugged loose, revealing the scars etched across my back. For a fleeting moment, disgust flickered in his eyes—so quick it could have been imagined, but my heart saw it clearly.

His fingers brushed lightly over the marks, his tone soft but hollow: "Elysia, I know you treasure your beauty. I’ll find a magic remedy to restore you—just as you were before."

I gestured to him, signing: If you catch the murderer, how will you handle it?

He froze momentarily, then patted my shoulder with feigned reassurance. "It’s been so long since it happened. Whoever did it must have already escaped the underworld by now! Elysia, let’s move forward—don’t linger in the past. I swear, no one will ever hurt you again!"

His words did nothing to ease the suffocating sorrow in my chest. "What will you do if one day, I disappear?" I asked, my voice trembling with emotion.

His arms tightened around me, panic flashing across his face. "Elysia, did someone tell you something?"

"What would I have heard?" I countered, narrowing my eyes. "What are you hiding from me?"

Victor’s earlier confidence dissolved, replaced by unease. He clasped my hands tightly, letting out a long, weary sigh. "Elysia, I love you—only you. If you’re ever lost, even in the depths of the underworld, I’ll find you and bring you back."

But his declaration felt like ash in the wind, a promise made from a place I could no longer reach.

On the day of our contract, we vowed never to lie. If either of us grew weary or fell for someone else, we swore to be honest. Yet here he was, breaking the bond forged over ten thousand years, shattering it with his betrayal.

The next morning, he cheerfully dragged me toward the dining hall. "Today is your birthday! I’ve arranged a special celebration just for you..."

For a moment, his enthusiasm sparked a flicker of hope. I had been counting the days, anticipating his gift, his sincerity.

But as I reached for the door, muffled voices stopped me cold.

"Is Victor mad? Holding onto a mute girl in his heart for ten thousand years?"

"Exactly! Making love without a sound—what’s the difference between that and a lifeless doll? Only Victor could tolerate something like that!"

Victor kicked the door open with a force that echoed through the hall. His voice was sharp and commanding, cutting through the stunned murmurs. "If I hear anyone slandering Elysia like this again, there will be no room for both of us in the underworld!"

The room fell silent.

The dancers, sensing the tension, hesitated briefly before stepping forward to lighten the mood. They moved in graceful sync, their veils fluttering, filling the air with a sensual rhythm.

Leading them was a woman clad in revealing garments, her waist undulating like a water snake. Her burning gaze locked onto us as we approached. Her movements were deliberate, her eyes daring, and she twisted her way between me and Victor, her body brushing against his as if I didn’t exist.

I stumbled backward, hitting the floor hard. Pain seared through my hand as I braced my fall.

Victor’s reaction was immediate. He shoved the woman aside and rushed to my side, lifting me into his arms as his eyes scanned for injuries. When he saw the burn on my hand, his face twisted with anguish.

"What’s wrong with you? How could you fall like that?" His voice trembled with both panic and frustration.

With a furious wave of his hand, he struck out at the dancer. The force was enough to send her reeling, and the veil covering her face slipped, revealing a familiar visage.

Seraphina.

Victor froze mid-attack, his hand falling to his side.

"Sir, please calm down. I wouldn’t dare..." Seraphina’s voice wavered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She sank to her knees, her body arching in a deliberate curve, the swell of her chest teasingly exposed.

I saw it then—the subtle gesture Victor made, his thumb and forefinger twisting together. It was a tell—a sign of his affection, one I knew all too well.

They were flirting. Right in front of me.

His voice softened. "Just focus on your dance. Don’t disturb my wife again."

The words were hollow, his tone betraying the tenderness he couldn’t hide.

Seraphina stood, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, and tossed aside the red veil that had cloaked her. Her movements were fluid, calculated, as she spun on her heel and fell effortlessly into the arms of one of Victor’s friends.

This man, notorious for his fleeting affairs and endless parade of beauties, welcomed her eagerly. His arms wrapped around her as though she were a prize, and he leaned in, his lips seeking hers without hesitation.

Victor stood abruptly, his movement so forceful that the wine table before him crashed to the ground, sending goblets and dishes scattering.

"Dante, Elysia is still here! Show some decency! If you want to cause trouble, take it elsewhere. Don’t disgrace yourself here!"

His fists clenched, and the veins on his neck throbbed with barely restrained anger.

I sneered internally. How ironic. I gestured calmly, my face betraying none of my turmoil.

"It doesn’t matter. If they want to enjoy themselves, let them. I don’t care."

Dante laughed mockingly, his hand sliding brazenly under Seraphina’s dress. "See? She doesn’t care. Why are you so worked up?"

Victor’s voice sharpened, a cold edge slicing through his words. "No! It’s immoral in public. Don’t dirty Elysia’s eyes!"

Dante’s smile faltered, irritation flickering across his face. He scooped Seraphina into his arms and strode toward the next room.

"Fine. Let’s move. We’ll have our fun elsewhere. You stay here and babysit your mute girl!"

Seraphina nestled against him, casting a look over her shoulder—a mix of derision and triumph—before disappearing into the adjoining room.

Victor sat down heavily, his expression distant. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice the wine spilling over the edge of my teacup.

I tapped his hand, my voice sharp in his mind as I gestured, I don’t drink. Have you forgotten?

Before he could respond, a high-pitched moan cut through the walls from the next room.

Victor’s face twisted with rage. In one swift motion, he grabbed the wine pot and hurled it to the ground, the shattering sound punctuating his fury.

"Elysia, it’s your birthday," he said, his tone softening into something almost pleading. "At least have a drink with me. Just one."

I shook my head vehemently, but he ignored my refusal. He poured the wine into my throat, heedless of my protests.

The fire spread instantly, searing my body. The pain and itchiness were unbearable, and I collapsed, unable to fight the effects of the alcohol.

Victor used my condition as an excuse to clear the room, forcing the guests to leave. Once alone, he stormed into the next room, throwing the door open with such force it rattled on its hinges.

Without hesitation, he knocked Dante unconscious with a single blow and dragged a stunned Seraphina into my room.

Victor pressed her against the door, his hand wrapping tightly around her neck. His voice was low, venomous. "I told you—don’t mess with my wife. Are you deaf?"

Seraphina’s lips curled into a defiant smile, her voice trembling with feigned innocence. "I just missed you, that’s all."

She tilted her head, her gaze challenging despite the grip on her throat. "I left, just as you wanted. But then Lord Vic brought me back. What’s the matter, Victor? Aren’t you afraid your beloved wife will feel heartbroken seeing me here?"

Victor’s gaze fell on the red mark adorning Seraphina’s chest, a mixture of irritation and jealousy flickering in his eyes.

"What is our esteemed Lord Vic doing?" Seraphina teased, her voice dripping with mockery. "Talking to me like this in front of your wife…"

She gasped suddenly, her words cut off as Victor tugged at her dress, exposing more of her slender frame.

Seraphina panted, her voice trembling with a mix of excitement and provocation. "Lord Vic, do you like this stone necklace on my neck? These stones—they’re your sweetheart’s tears. I didn’t expect them to be so bright and plump!"

Victor’s expression darkened, his voice low and dismissive. "It looks good. I’ll get you more next time."

I lay there, drunk and wracked by an allergic reaction. Though my body betrayed me, trembling and weak, my mind remained painfully clear. The sharp ache in my chest deepened as I clenched my fists.

My tears… my sorrow… used to please this sea monster.

Their laughter and chaos grew louder, rolling from the doorway to the wine table and then, unbearably, to my side.

"The ground is cold…" Seraphina whispered coquettishly.

"Delicate, aren’t you?" Victor sneered but reached for my cloak—a treasured garment he had painstakingly sewn with feathers gathered over millennia. This cloak had shielded me from the biting winds of the underworld and held the weight of ten thousand years of companionship.

Without hesitation, he spread the cloak beneath Seraphina, his movements devoid of the tenderness he once reserved for me.

Their entangled forms continued to shift, Seraphina’s moans and cries echoing louder and louder.

"Scream," Victor growled. "Scream as loud as you can. I love hearing you beg for mercy."

I stared at the scene, my heart breaking anew. When Victor was with me, he was always measured, restrained. Even on our wedding night, he had cherished me, his every touch careful and deliberate. This unbridled ferocity was something I had never seen before.

At last, they seemed to tire. Seraphina slumped against Victor’s chest, her voice soft and syrupy. "My body feels sticky and uncomfortable… May I borrow your wife’s handkerchief?"

Victor shoved her away, his tone as cold as ice. "With you? Are you even worthy?"

Seraphina pouted, her lips curling into a sulk. "Men are so heartless. You don’t even recognize people after picking up your pants. Fine, I’ll leave—I’m sure someone else will want me."

"You dare!" Victor snapped, his anger flaring again. Yet, instead of leaving her to fend for herself, he reached into my sleeve, pulling out my handkerchief. With a maddening tenderness, he began to clean Seraphina’s skin.