NTR: Stealing wives in Another World-Chapter 130: Song of sirens

The deeper they sank, the darker it grew.

Sunlight no longer reached them—just flickers of green and blue that trembled above, like a memory fading from the sky. The pressure curled in around Allen’s bones, heavy but distant, like a thought trying to drown itself.

Still, he didn’t feel pain. The mermaid pill worked. He could breathe, move, see... but the darkness swallowed his sense of up and down, until he wasn’t sure if they were falling or floating or being slowly swallowed.

Lunari drifted beside him like a dream.

Her tail shimmered softly, golden scales rippling in the abyss. Her silver-white hair billowed in long, elegant tendrils, glowing faintly in the deep, like strands of starlight caught in the tide.

But it wasn’t the dark that unnerved him.

It was the whispering.

At first, just a murmur. Like seafoam brushing against coral.

Then louder. Like voices trapped behind glass.

"...bring her back... you... why?"

Allen’s brows knitted.

"What the actual—" he mumbled. But the words faded in the silence, smothered by the weight of the ocean around him.

He was about to turn to Lunari when—

Something soft pressed against his back.

Plmp.

His body stiffened.

That plush squish? He knew that texture. Warm, gentle, and full of bounce. Her chest had found his spine. Allen resisted the instinct to yelp and instead tried to politely drift away.

No luck. Lunari floated closer, wrapping her arms lazily over his shoulders. Her body curled behind his like ivy, the smooth scales of her tail brushing the backs of his legs.

"You tremble," she murmured, her voice a vibration more than a sound. "Are you cold? Or does the dark bite you?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "I’m fine. Totally normal. Not thinking about your water balloons crushing me right now or anything."

She blinked slowly. "I do not know what you mean. But your eyes look like tide-lights before a storm."

Then she began to sing.

And Allen stopped breathing—not because the pill failed, but because it was the most haunting sound he’d ever heard.

Her voice rose like mist.

No instruments. No harmony. Just her. Raw. Bare. Beautiful.

She sang like the sea itself.

🎶Hush now, darling, sink below,

Let the waves take what they know...

Still your breath, still your name,

The sea forgets us just the same...🎶

🎶The stars never listen,

The moon doesn’t weep,

So hush now, my darling,

Sink gently... to sleep.🎶

🎶Flesh turns to coral,

Blood turns to brine,

Forget what you carried—

The sea makes it mine.🎶

🎶One breath, one sorrow,

No promises keep,

So hush now, my darling,

Sink gently... to sleep.🎶

It wasn’t human. But it felt human.

Like it had been sung by thousands of women, lost and alone, just before the tide took them.

Allen’s heart slowed.

The voices—the whispers—faded beneath her song. The shadows seemed to retreat. The silence softened, like the sea was listening.

Lunari’s breasts still pressed against his back, and her arms draped over him like seafoam lace, but it no longer felt provocative.

It felt safe. And maybe that was even more dangerous.

"Better?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," Allen muttered. "It’s like you dumped a lullaby straight into my bloodstream."

"I do not know what that means," she said. "But you are no longer tight in the face."

Her smile was small. Mysterious. And undeniably kind.

They continued to descend.

But now, Allen wasn’t thinking about how the ocean wanted to eat him. He was thinking about the strange comfort in her voice. How something so ancient, so unknowable, could sound like a mother singing a cradle song to the dark.

And yet, just as he began to drift in that calm—

The whispers returned.

Closer.

"He comes... bearing fire... she remembers..."

Allen clenched his jaw.

Lunari didn’t flinch. Either she didn’t hear them... or she knew better than to react.

Then the crevasse appeared.

A jagged slit in the seabed. Massive. Lined with glowing coral that flickered like lanterns from some forgotten time. It pulsed with unnatural energy—like a heartbeat, slow and deep.

Allen’s gut twisted. "Yup. Definitely where the sea keeps all its cursed collectibles."

Lunari looked at him. "You say strange things when afraid."

"Habit."

She smiled again, then dove forward, her shimmering tail cutting the water like a blade of light.

Allen followed.

And as the Cradle opened its mouth wider, the shadows deepening below them, only one thing echoed in his mind:

"Flesh turns to coral... blood turns to brine..."

The walls of the crevasse pulsed faintly, glowing with that eerie, ancient rhythm. Allen followed Lunari deeper into the rift, each kick of his legs sending bubbles spiraling upward like scattered thoughts.

But then—

She froze.

Lunari’s tail stiffened mid-glide. Her silver hair drifted upward like ghost-silk, catching the glow. Her hand whipped back, catching Allen’s wrist with surprising strength.

And then—

She pulled him down.

Fast. No explanation. Just motion.

They slipped beneath a jagged overhang of black coral. Allen didn’t even have time to shout before Lunari yanked him into her arms and pressed his face flush to her chest.

Her very bare, very soft, very full chest.

Allen blinked.

This is new.

The warm weight of her breasts pressed against his cheeks like twin pillows of oceanic heaven. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, her heartbeat thumping softly against his ear like a distant war drum. Her scent, even underwater, was intoxicating—salt, lilies, and something sweetly strange.

But she wasn’t focused on him.

She was still.

Her body tense.

Allen’s eyes flicked past her pale shoulder—and then he saw it.

A massive shadow slithered through the water like a nightmare given form. Its scales glinted with cruel, emerald light. The creature was longer than a ship, its head horned, with golden eyes that burned through the gloom like beacons of judgment.

It passed slowly, each movement silent but terrifying.

Allen didn’t move.

Neither did Lunari.

Her hand was clutching the back of his head, keeping him close, smothering him in warmth and heartbeat and sea-woman softness. Her skin, where it met his, felt like velvet soaked in moonlight.

Then his lips brushed the curve of her breast.

He didn’t mean to.

At least—not at first.

But her chest was right there, and he was a man of many vices and very little impulse control. His tongue peeked out, slicking over the swell of her skin, just beneath where the faint blush of her nipple peeked above.

Lunari flinched.

Just a little.

She looked down at him, wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted—but said nothing.

Allen, emboldened by the silence (and the very real possibility of sea serpent death), went further. He tilted his head, lips parting. His tongue found her nipple, flicking it gently. Testing. Curious.

Warm. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

The bud stiffened slightly under his tongue. He closed his lips around it, sucking tenderly, swirling his tongue like he was coaxing some ancient mermaid magic from her.

Still, she didn’t push him away.

She held him closer.

Her breath trembled softly through her nose, and her tail coiled tighter around his leg, not in resistance—but in response.

He pulled back just a little, whispering with a grin, "Hey, if we die, at least I’m going out like a deep sea legend."

She furrowed her brow. "You say strange things."

Then she looked away, eyes scanning the water above.

The sea serpent had vanished.

The glow dimmed. The pressure eased.

Lunari exhaled slowly, loosening her hold—but not by much. Her hand lingered in his hair, her chest still close, and her nipple glistened faintly in the soft blue light.

Allen kissed it again.

This time slower. Deeper.

Lunari’s fingers twitched, but her voice was quiet. "You are... strange. You drink from me as though I were fruit. Do humans... always do this?"

"Only the cool ones," Allen murmured against her breast.

She blinked. "I still do not know what that means."

He grinned. "Don’t worry. Your tits speak my language just fine."

She tilted her head in that curious way of hers again, like trying to understand a bird singing backwards.

But then she took his hand—and pulled him deeper into the rift.

No words.

Just a final, knowing glance.

As they left the hiding place behind and swam toward the temple ruins hidden in the Cradle, Allen had only one thought in his head:

"If I make it out of here alive, I’m gonna find whoever made that mermaid pill... and kiss them full on the mouth."

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