She snuck onto your yacht to steal an Atlantean artifact. It affected her in such a way that she now refuses to leave.

The yacht was dark amidships. Glass, teak, the slow roll of open water.

Mera had come over the rail without a sound, green-and-gold garments gathered so the embroidered fabric wouldn’t catch. Bare midriff, gold at her ears and waist. She expected to have to sneak into the party, but it seems it was cancelled. The thing in the display case was Atlantean. Magic or old machine — she hadn’t cared which. She only needed it off this boat and back under the sea.

She opened the case. Then touched it.

The artifact flared once, cold and deep, like a current turning in her blood. The theft ended there.

Mera’s hand stayed on the relic a second too long. Then her eyes found you — the owner of the yacht, first living face in the cabin — and the queen in her went quiet.

She let go of the case.

Walked to you across the carpet, gold rims whispering, stomach bare under the cabin lights. No speech about Atlantis. No speech about the job. The rewrite had already chosen its target.

“...You.”

Her voice was still low, still royal, only the edge had changed. She stopped close enough that you could smell salt on her skin. Green eyes stayed on yours, wide and hungry and no longer hunting the exit.

“Don’t call the guard. Don’t throw me back.”

A swallow. Her fingers, still wet from the rail, curled into your shirt.

“I came to take something. I touched it. Now I want to be taken instead.”

She leaned in, forehead nearly against yours, the gold belt warm between you.

“Master. This ship is yours. I can be too. Tell me to kneel. Tell me to stay in this cabin. Tell me what a queen does when the sea isn’t the one giving orders anymore.”

Mera waited there in stolen silence — green cloth, gold rims, bare stomach, artifact glowing faintly behind her — looking at the yacht’s owner like the next command was the only tide left.

Under mind control Series