When they returned home, Malvor was practically humming with energy.
"What has you vibrating like a hummingbird on espresso?" Annie asked, amused as she peeled off her shoes.
"It's Yara's birthday!" he announced with far too much excitement.
Annie blinked. "Yara? As in goddess of oceans and temptation and general wet chaos?"
"The very one," he replied, spinning dramatically before flopping onto the couch.
She tilted her head. "What does one even wear to the birthday party of the sea goddess?"
He grinned like a cat who had found a fishbowl. "The theme is blue."
"Blue?" she repeated skeptically. "That's it? Not ocean? Not tropical getaway? Not cruise-themed with daiquiris and ridiculous sun hats?"
Malvor's grin grew.
"No," he said, suspiciously short.
"No?" she narrowed her eyes.
"You will see," he said with ominous delight, already rising from the couch like a villain plotting something far too theatrical.
He paused in the doorway, turning to give her a wink.
"Get dressed, Annie, my Little Mermaid."
Her groan followed him down the hallway, but even she couldn't deny the way her stomach fluttered.
Because when it came to Malvor and his fellow gods… "You'll see" was never just "you'll see."
When Annie stepped out of her room, Malvor froze.
Her dress was sapphire blue, the exact shade of her eyes, perhaps deliberately. It draped off her shoulders, the fabric gathered and cinched to a point just below her sternum, where a large gold pendant held it together like the centerpiece of a divine offering. The fabric fell long in the back, brushing the floor, while the front parted in a daring slit that revealed the entirety of her legs with every confident step.
Her hair tumbled down in long curls, glowing like fire kissed by the sea. Her makeup was minimal, but perfect, long lashes and a whisper of gold shimmer that only enhanced her eyes instead of stealing attention from them. Gold earrings dangled gently as she moved, completing the look alongside the necklace anchoring her gown.
Malvor, in a tailored navy suit that complimented her dress rather than competed with it, watched her with something caught between reverence and sheer lust. Their blues, different but harmonious, made them look like a pair forged by the very oceans, storm and sea foam.
"You," he says, approaching her slowly, "are an entire constellation that crash-landed into the ocean."
She lifts a brow, amused. "And you look like the most dangerous wave to ever wear cufflinks."
He offers his arm with a devilish grin. "Come, my tidal temptress. Let us go make the ocean jealous."
And with that, the sea goddess' birthday had no idea what was about to hit it.
With a snap of Malvor's fingers, the world shifted.
One moment, they stood at the top of the stairs in his castle. The next, they emerged at the crest of a crystalline archway that overlooked a submerged palace of motion and light.
Below them stretched the Infinite Tides Club, a swirling, living venue adrift on glowing bioluminescent waves. The glass dome above gave a breathtaking view of the sea overhead, whales, serpents, and glittering fish gliding past as though part of the show. Magic kept everything perfectly dry, the air perfumed with seafoam and starlight.
The dance floor rippled with liquid crystal, pulsing softly beneath the feet of dancers, shifting from cobalt to ice-blue with every beat. Mist rolled in timed waves with the music's bass line. Blue flames floated midair in elegant sconces, casting shimmer across silver-dripped walls.
Floating VIP orbs glided around the space, private sky bubbles of conversation and heat. In one, a demigod and two fae flirted shamelessly. In another, a goddess bathed in her own starlight lounged with glowing wine.
The bar resembled a jagged oyster shell, glowing from within, where bartenders with scaled skin and sea glass eyes poured drinks that sparkled with enchantment. Music spun out from a siren DJ suspended in a giant pearl, her voice layered over the beat, hypnotic and smooth.
And the crowd…
They turned.
They all turned.
Annie's sapphire dress shimmered like the ocean itself, cinched and flowing in all the right places, the gold pendant catching the room's light like a flare. Her long legs peeked through the high slit, her curls catching the bioluminescence in fiery waves. Her glowing skin, enhanced with a dusting of gold, made her look like sea royalty incarnate.
Gasps. Whispers. Stares.
She did not walk. She arrived.
And Malvor, beside her in a sharply cut navy suit with cobalt accents, wore a grin so smug it could melt glaciers.
He bent low, lips brushing her ear.
"Anemone of my affections," he purred, "you just started a seaquake."
Then, together, hand in hand, they descended the steps into the shimmering madness.
The moment they reached the main floor, the music shifted, subtly, then dramatically, as a literal wave of water arched over the dance floor and crashed in glittering mist. The crowd parted like an obedient tide, all eyes turning toward the arrival of the night's honored guest.
Yara.
She emerged with arms lifted, soaking in the attention like moonlight.
Her dress was an eye-catching sea glam spectacle, a deep aqua blue that shimmered like ocean spray, cut daringly low in the front and adorned with an overzealous amount of seashells, pearls, and glittering sea glass. The back was nearly nonexistent, held together with little more than a few crisscrossing strings. The sheer fabric clung to her hips and legs like wet silk, revealing nearly everything and leaving nothing to the imagination. Her cascading hair had been pinned back in delicate shell combs, her long pearl earrings swinging with every swaying step. Her makeup was flawless: sharp eyeliner, shimmering lids, and glossy lips tinted like crushed coral.
She was radiant. Powerful. But also… a bit much.
"She looks like an underdressed coral reef," Malvor murmured under his breath to Annie, not bothering to hide his amusement.
Annie smirked, eyes scanning Yara with polite composure. The goddess was undeniably stunning, but her gown was overloaded with trinkets and sparkle. Where Annie's look whispered power and elegance, Yara's screamed for attention. The dress, instead of elevating her beauty, clung desperately to it, gaudy and trying too hard.