Divine Dragons Book 1: A Bride for the Water God
Autor
Raven Flanagan
Lecturas
510K
Capítulos
15
Marilla’s village is parched and desperate for rain. To appease the Water God, she is offered as a sacrificial bride, setting sail across treacherous seas in the hope of saving her people. When a monstrous sea dragon rises from the depths, Marilla believes she’s doomed. Instead, she awakens in a luxurious palace—beneath a seductive and powerful man who is much more than he seems. The Water God, a fearsome dragon shifter with the power of both fire and sea, stirs her deepest desires. Now, Marilla must decide if she’ll surrender to the god’s sensual demands or risk losing everything she’s ever known.
Chapter 1
A BRIDE FOR THE WATER GOD
We were a people in desperate need of water. Our rivers had run dry and the ocean was unyielding. It had been months since the last spring shower had graced us with its presence.
Our crops were dying, and so were our people. The village elders had sent me adrift in a small, barely seaworthy boat, into the vast, intimidating ocean. This was where a once mighty river had met the sea.
They had left me to the mercy of the ocean, hoping for a better future. Because across the sea, there was a god—the Water God. And I was to be his bride.
But only a sacrificial bride, I thought. Selected randomly from the remaining young women, the elders had dressed me in the finest white fabric they could find. They had adorned the bodice with pearls and iridescent shells, and a veil was woven into my tightly curled brown hair.
As the sea’s choppy waves pulled me further from the shore, I looked back. The villagers were starting to leave, heads bowed and hands clasped in prayer, hoping their god would accept their offering.
They all thought I would die, but if it meant rain for them, it didn’t matter. Through the haze of my veil, I saw my parents and younger sister standing at the water’s edge. My father was comforting my mother as she cried out in grief.
My little sister clung to my mother’s apron, her favorite doll tucked under her arm, too young to understand what was happening. I stayed turned around in the rocking boat, watching until they were just specks in the distance. My heart ached, my body felt weak, and a single tear slipped down my cheek.
I turned back to face the rising waves and the ominous gray clouds in the distance. Those clouds were full of rain. Their distance from my island felt like a cruel joke.
Why were my people being punished by the Water God? Why did they have to die? A wave crashed against my tiny boat.
I instinctively reached for the oar at my feet, even though I knew it was too frail to save me. It was as sturdy as a twig and wouldn’t keep the boat from capsizing if a large wave hit.
The wind whipped the sea into towering walls of water. The force of the wind tugged at my veil and the strings of pearls on my bodice. I held the oar close, as if it could protect me. The roar of the sea was deafening—I couldn’t believe that water alone could make such a terrifying sound.
The waves grew higher, the salty spray soaked my dress, and the wind howled around me as if the ocean and the clouds were alive. At any moment, a wave could shatter the boat and send me into the depths.
Something hit the boat from below, making me gasp.
Surviving the treacherous waters was one thing, but there were other dangers in the water. To reach the god and save my people, I also had to survive the rusalka—vicious, man-eating water creatures. I risked a look over the side of the boat.
Something moved through the waves, like massive limbs twisting through the frothy surface. The spiny backs of the creatures churned the sea into dangerous swells. Another creature broke the surface near my boat.
Then something hit the side of the boat. The rusalka had found me. Their laughter cut through the wind. It was a horrifying sound, like the songs of dolphins twisted into a death knell. Anyone who heard the rusalka’s song was marked for death. But I couldn’t die—not yet.
I had to confront the Water God and demand salvation for my village, my friends, and my family.
More of the creatures rose from the water, clicking and hissing. They were gray, covered in fins and scales.
They had the faces of women, but from the waist down they had tails that they used to hit my boat. The small boat could barely withstand the waves, let alone the force of the rusalka hitting its sides.
I held onto the oar until my fingers hurt, and the spray of water mixed with the sweat on my forehead. The waves soaked my dress and plastered the veil to my face. My heart pounded as panic set in.
If I died, so would everyone I loved. The first rusalka climbed into the boat.
But there wasn’t enough room for both of us, and her weight made the boat tip forward. I tensed up, survival instincts kicking in. I swung the oar and hit the rusalka, sending her back into the water. That made the others angry. More of them jumped at the boat.
Even though I couldn’t see because of the wet lace covering my face, I swung the oar, keeping them at bay.
“You want a piece of me?” I yelled, filled with a sudden determination to survive. “Come get some, bitches!”
I ripped the veil from my face, ignoring the pain as the pins pulled at my hair. The wet lace fluttered away and sank into the water. The rusalka made it disappear.
With my vision clear, I stood up. The boat was small, but I had enough room to brace myself. When the next rusalka jumped out of the water, I was ready to fight her off.
In the midst of my life-or-death struggle, I was oblivious to the creature slithering up from the water behind me. I was too busy yelling and swatting at rusalka as they attempted to invade my boat. The water was rising, and my balance was compromised by the saltwater drenching my slippers.
A shadow, darker than the blackest night and larger than any mountain, emerged from the ocean, plunging me into complete darkness. A deep, resonating growl echoed over the waves, sending a wave of terror through my weary muscles.
The rusalka in the surf responded with a chorus of whistles and clicks. When the creature behind me roared again, loud enough to rupture my eardrums, the water-dwelling hags recoiled and retreated beneath the waves.
I spun around, ready to confront whatever monster had surfaced.
“Want a piece of me?” I yelled over the tumultuous splashing, hoisting the oar above my head.
I tilted my head back, looking up, and up, and up. The beast blended into the backdrop of the stormy dark clouds and churning black water.
A sudden flash of lightning revealed the most terrifying, yet stunning creature I’d ever seen.
A sea serpent had surged from the ocean’s depths, stirring the already tempestuous waves. Its midnight-blue scales shimmered under the storm cloud’s sporadic light.
Huge frills and fins flared out, fluttering in the wind.
Two colossal wings emerged from the water, causing a tidal wave to rush toward my boat. A scream escaped my lips as a wall of water crashed into my vessel.
I lost my footing, falling back onto the narrow bench and dropping the oar.
For some inexplicable reason, I froze. After battling the rusalka, I was suddenly paralyzed.
The piercing blue eyes of the giant serpent held me captive. They were mesmerizing, like the moon’s silver light reflecting off the sea’s surface.
The creature’s scales sparkled like deep-sea sapphires. Three sets of curved horns and jagged frills protruded from its head, crowning it as the king of sea beasts.
Its wings, a fusion of blue-silver bat wings and fish fins, spread out, casting a shadow large enough to cover my entire village. Its gaping mouth revealed rows of teeth as long and sharp as swords.
Another deep, haunting cry erupted from its mouth as it continued to rise from the waves.
“Oh, shit,” I gasped.
This was no ordinary sea monster. This creature was far superior to the rusalka, and more majestic than any sea snake lurking beneath the waves.
He was magnificent, captivating, and utterly terrifying.
He was the King of the Ocean, the Ruler of the Seas and Rivers—he was the God of Water.
And his wide, cavernous mouth was heading straight for me. I knew without a doubt that the Water God intended to swallow me whole.
A rush of adrenaline mixed with the fatigue from fighting the rusalka flooded my body. Pure terror and shock overtook me, and all instincts to fight or flee vanished as the god’s mouth approached my boat.
As his jaws snapped toward my vessel, a towering black wave with a white crest barreled toward me. The wall of water slammed into my boat, flipping it over and catapulting me into the ravenous sea.
