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In an instant, he was on her, around her, blocking out the sea, the sky, the whole world. Disoriented, she was on her back, the waves still lapping greedily at her calves, and he was over her, his black, inky hair hanging in tendrils around them, curtening them from prying eyes.

It occurred to her, to that dim, distant part of oneself that is disengaged from the present, that he had WANTED this. No, more then that, he desired this outcome above all others. She wondered briefly what he might have done if she hadn't answered yes.

Then his head lowered, his eerie black-on-black eyes capturing her full attention. The oddness of him, that otherworldly aura that both repulsed and fac=scinated her, did not offer a logical conclusion to his movement. Should he be any other man-or, that was, should he be a MAN, well, she'd have understood what it meant when his eyes heated and smoldered like that. It would have been obvious, even to her, that the way he lowered his head to hers, that he intended to kiss her. Of course, him being, well, what he was, made it a complete surprise when his cool, moon-pale mouth touched her own.

Again that distant, far-away part of herself marveled at his lips. Full and soft they were, and dry, perhaps because he'd been out of the sea for so long. He tasted of salt, almost of blood, and his lips, she was amazed to find out, his lips were not made of skin at all! In fact, they were teeny, tiny, interlocking scales, so fine and small that they appeared to the naked eye as skin.

For a few indescribable moments all she felt was him, his weight on her chest, his muscle, and against her calve the dim sensation of cool, wet scale. It was only as this sensory overload was completely catalogued in her mind, that she began to feel... other things.

There was a heat in her body that was leeching out of her fingers and toes. Or, perhaps, it wasn't so much leeching out, as her fingers and toes were...cooling almost. They seemed to become chill with a cold that was more than just sensory. It was slow at first, and then began to gain speed, as if there was something feeding on that warmth that she didn't know she possessed. Where the chill began her limbs had taken on a kind of horrible lightness as if they were hollow, and where she was still warm, contrarily, seemed to become heavier, thicker and denser. So confused as to waht was happening, she broke the inhuman kiss with the creature of the sea, and gasped.

It didn't hurt, in fact, it was almost disturbingly painless. The cool chased the warmth throughout her body, until the heat was a single oval, lodged behind her heart. And this single oval was... beautiful. Z wonderingly felt it, this small lump half the size of her fist, but she felt it with something entirely different than her sense of touch. The lump was a mash of green-blue-yellow-orange-red-purple, smelled of sea-horses-fresh-grass-baking-bread-leather- lilac and felt like warmsand-velvet-coolsilk-lushgrass-smoothglass. It was everything she'd ever loved, everything she wanted, and everything she'd ever need. This... thing was... yes, it was her very soul.

Z's chest heaved up, with a violent, involuntary motion. She began choking, coughing, as the lump moved up from her heart and began traveling up her throat. She trashed in the sand when it blocked her ability to breath, then rolled over and climbed to her hands and knees. Cool large hands cupped her shoulders, holding her up as her hands frantically clawed at her throat. It swelled beneath her trembling fingers, full of that lump of a soul, which moved up smoothly, uninhibited by her desperate clutching. Finally it surface in her mouth, warm and smooth, and forced her jaw wide open.

Z began retching, big dry heaves that hurt her chest and her throat for nothing came out. Nothing, except for that smooth lump of a soul. It fell from her mouth, and eerily floated to the sand, where it landed with a surprising thump. Her mind acknowledged the soul, in its egg shaped form, even as something inside of her screamed a bloodcurdling scream, and an almost audible SNAP sounded. She was empty, hollow, lost inside, and it hurt on a plane of existence that had everything to do with the physical, and the mental and the spiritual. She knew what happened, how could she not?

When his hand, His hand, that large hand with those long tapered digits and evil sharpened nails, reached around her and enclosed the egg, she mourned that missing bit of herself and hated him. Hated him with passion, which felt so good and warm and made her feel full. So she filled herself up with it, with that white-hot passionate hatred for this beast, this animal, this demon who stole her soul from her. Z turned and looked him in the eye, ignoring the moon colored pale skin and the black-as-ptch scales of his long tail. She stared him straight in those equally soulless eyes of his and HATED with all that he left of her.

And the Sea Prince smiled, a cruel curve of his lips that flashed a hint of transluscent fanged teeth, and knew that now, she was his.

Description
In an instant, he was on her, around her, blocking out the sea, the sky, the whole world. Disoriented, she was on her back, the waves still lapping greedily at her calves, and he was over her, his black, inky hair hanging in tendrils around them, curtening them from prying eyes.

It occurred to her, to that dim, distant part of oneself that is disengaged from the present, that he had WANTED this. No, more then that, he desired this outcome above all others. She wondered briefly what he might have done if she hadn't answered yes.

Then his head lowered, his eerie black-on-black eyes capturing her full attention. The oddness of him, that otherworldly aura that both repulsed and fac=scinated her, did not offer a logical conclusion to his movement. Should he be any other man-or, that was, should he be a MAN, well, she'd have understood what it meant when his eyes heated and smoldered like that. It would have been obvious, even to her, that the way he lowered his head to hers, that he intended to kiss her. Of course, him being, well, what he was, made it a complete surprise when his cool, moon-pale mouth touched her own.

Again that distant, far-away part of herself marveled at his lips. Full and soft they were, and dry, perhaps because he'd been out of the sea for so long. He tasted of salt, almost of blood, and his lips, she was amazed to find out, his lips were not made of skin at all! In fact, they were teeny, tiny, interlocking scales, so fine and small that they appeared to the naked eye as skin.

For a few indescribable moments all she felt was him, his weight on her chest, his muscle, and against her calve the dim sensation of cool, wet scale. It was only as this sensory overload was completely catalogued in her mind, that she began to feel... other things.

There was a heat in her body that was leeching out of her fingers and toes. Or, perhaps, it wasn't so much leeching out, as her fingers and toes were...cooling almost. They seemed to become chill with a cold that was more than just sensory. It was slow at first, and then began to gain speed, as if there was something feeding on that warmth that she didn't know she possessed. Where the chill began her limbs had taken on a kind of horrible lightness as if they were hollow, and where she was still warm, contrarily, seemed to become heavier, thicker and denser. So confused as to waht was happening, she broke the inhuman kiss with the creature of the sea, and gasped.

It didn't hurt, in fact, it was almost disturbingly painless. The cool chased the warmth throughout her body, until the heat was a single oval, lodged behind her heart. And this single oval was... beautiful. Z wonderingly felt it, this small lump half the size of her fist, but she felt it with something entirely different than her sense of touch. The lump was a mash of green-blue-yellow-orange-red-purple, smelled of sea-horses-fresh-grass-baking-bread-leather- lilac and felt like warmsand-velvet-coolsilk-lushgrass-smoothglass. It was everything she'd ever loved, everything she wanted, and everything she'd ever need. This... thing was... yes, it was her very soul.

Z's chest heaved up, with a violent, involuntary motion. She began choking, coughing, as the lump moved up from her heart and began traveling up her throat. She trashed in the sand when it blocked her ability to breath, then rolled over and climbed to her hands and knees. Cool large hands cupped her shoulders, holding her up as her hands frantically clawed at her throat. It swelled beneath her trembling fingers, full of that lump of a soul, which moved up smoothly, uninhibited by her desperate clutching. Finally it surface in her mouth, warm and smooth, and forced her jaw wide open.

Z began retching, big dry heaves that hurt her chest and her throat for nothing came out. Nothing, except for that smooth lump of a soul. It fell from her mouth, and eerily floated to the sand, where it landed with a surprising thump. Her mind acknowledged the soul, in its egg shaped form, even as something inside of her screamed a bloodcurdling scream, and an almost audible SNAP sounded. She was empty, hollow, lost inside, and it hurt on a plane of existence that had everything to do with the physical, and the mental and the spiritual. She knew what happened, how could she not?

When his hand, His hand, that large hand with those long tapered digits and evil sharpened nails, reached around her and enclosed the egg, she mourned that missing bit of herself and hated him. Hated him with passion, which felt so good and warm and made her feel full. So she filled herself up with it, with that white-hot passionate hatred for this beast, this animal, this demon who stole her soul from her. Z turned and looked him in the eye, ignoring the moon colored pale skin and the black-as-ptch scales of his long tail. She stared him straight in those equally soulless eyes of his and HATED with all that he left of her.

And the Sea Prince smiled, a cruel curve of his lips that flashed a hint of transluscent fanged teeth, and knew that now, she was his.