Chapter 2

Delilah's POV

"Hurry up! Saffron, are you crazy?!"

I hissed through the crack in the wall, my voice low and desperate.

The heavy thudding inside finally ceased. After several agonizing minutes, the thick door cracked open.

Saffron slipped out drenched in sweat, gasping for air. Her neck bore glaring red marks, and her legs shook so violently she could barely stand.

At the far end of the corridor, the sharp strike of a cane against stone rang out.

—Henrietta.

My scalp went numb. I grabbed Saffron’s arm and yanked her away. Her legs gave out, and she hit the cold stone steps hard. Her thin nightgown rode all the way up to her waist.

I reached out to pull her up, but my pupils shrank.

She was bare beneath the gown. Her inner thighs were streaked with a cloudy, viscous mess. Her underwear was completely gone.

My head spun. I grabbed her shoulders tight. "Where are your clothes? Saffron, who were you just in there with—"

"Shh." Saffron slapped her hand over my mouth.

Our shared face showed zero fear; instead, it blossomed with an eerie flush that mixed pure shame with a sickening level of satisfaction.

"Don't ask, Delilah. Once you taste that kind of euphoria… you'll be begging to get past that door."

The next morning, the hermetically sealed Siren's Reef saw an exceptionally rare sight: a luxury yacht docked at the pier.

A man stepped onto the island.

In a place that treated men like mythical commodities, his arrival was like a drop of blood in shark-infested waters.

His name was Rhys Lancaster. Clad in a bespoke dark-textured suit, he had short dark brown hair and a pair of predatory, grey-blue eyes. Rumor had it he was a proxy for an anonymous international billionaire, armed with a blank checkbook to purchase top-tier Siren Coral.

A buyer with endless pockets instantly became the orphanage’s VIP.

At the afternoon reception, Saffron zeroed in on him like a cat smelling cream. She pulled her neckline dangerously low, practically pressing herself into Rhys’s arm as she held her wine glass.

"Mr. Lancaster, the nights on the island get quite cold. Need a local guide?"

Her finger traced lazy, suggestive circles on his suit lapel.

Rhys lowered his grey-blue eyes. A playful smirk touched his lips as his hand slid naturally to grip her narrow waist.

"If every guide is as stunning as you, I won't mind the cold at all."

"Disgusting. Look at that bitch in heat."

Standing in the corner, Constance snapped the stem of her wine glass. She glared daggers at Saffron's back, her icy eyes trembling with venomous jealousy.

Midnight struck.

Saffron's bed remained empty.

A chilling dread slithered up my spine. Grabbing a flashlight and my coat, I slipped out into the dark.

I checked the site of the "Crowning" first. The oak doors were deadlocked, silent, with no sign of Saffron.

I followed the damp stone paths leading deep behind the orphanage. Just as I neared the corner of the underground coral storage, I spotted several hulking deaf-mute workers pushing a heavy wooden cart. Directing them from the shadows was Henrietta, draped in her dark blue robe.

"Careful. We can't afford to ruin this batch of 'fertilizer'."

Henrietta's gentle voice sounded downright demonic as it carried on the night wind.

Suddenly, the cart hit a jagged rock. The frame jolted violently.

A rough canvas sack rolled off the cart, its seam ripped open by a sharp piece of reef.

A pale, completely bloodless arm flopped out of the tear.

Not a single trace of color was left in that flesh.

I clamped both hands over my mouth, swallowing the scream tearing at my throat.

I spent the rest of the night shivering under my covers, waiting until Saffron quietly slipped back into the room.

I shot up from the bed, practically grabbing her arm. "Where the hell were you?" I choked out. "Do you have any idea what I just saw—"

"What is your problem? You're hurting me!"

Saffron yanked her arm free, annoyed.

She didn't look tired at all. Instead, she practically glowed with an afterglow of being thoroughly, relentlessly satisfied.

"Did you see that, Delilah? Once I hook that billionaire, I'm cutting ties with Henrietta for good." Greed bled from her eyes. "When I'm Mrs. Lancaster, I'll take you and our mother with me. We'll live like absolute queens."

For the next few days, extreme terror and a burning fever kept me bedridden.

For three straight days, I watched Saffron dress up to the nines, sneak out, and return in the dead of night smelling of sea breeze, expensive cologne, and a strange underlying scent of sweet blood. She looked intensely triumphant.

Then came the fourth day.

I didn't get to hear about Saffron securing her billionaire.

Instead, I heard Constance kick the door open, unleashing a blood-curdling wail.

"Delilah—get to the coral pools! Saffron... Saffron is dead!"