Page 22 of Claimed By the Depths

“Has?” he snarled. “As if it's some kind of fucking choice? It is not something we have; it is something she decided for me as she stripped my autonomy from my hands before I could even understand the concept.”

Wringing my hands together, I nibbled at my bottom lip. The tang of rusted copper settled on my tongue, and I cringed at the rancid taste of my essence. “I’m sorry.”

“For which part, Saph? That you betrayed me? Or that the man you believed you knew died far before you even met him?”

“Both.” A searing burn settled at the corner of each eye, and I blinked it away. “I’m… I-I wish I could have protected you.”

His scoff was expected as he slunk back into the darkness. “Ironic coming from the woman who tossed me into the fire the second she got the chance.”

“And I wish I hadn’t.” Scratching at my wrist, I sucked in a mouthful of air. “I’m a piece of shit, a liar, and a fraud. The mask I wore throughout the years we sailed together concealed that part of me, and now you know my truth. You do not have to believe me, Cas, but when I say that I love you, I mean it with every fiber in my being. And I know… I know it doesn’t make sense why I did what I did, and hell, if I’m being honest, I don’t comprehend my stupidity in the matter either. Lorelie was my first love and I…”

“You ached for her,” he finished for me, the wound we shared beginning to weep. “I understand. Gods, please believe me when I tell you that I understand too damn well, Sapphira.”

“I do.” Wiping the tear from my cheek with the back of my hand, I exhaled heavily. “Because what I see in your irises when you talk about him is how I feel about her.”

Silence fell, carrying with it a weight so thick it threatened to asphyxiate me. Its heaviness symbolized every unspoken word the two of us went without sharing, instead relying on sex to cope with all we’d lost. Neither of us knew how to express the feeling of being torn apart from the inside out, but when we were intimate, we didn’t need to. Every touch carried longing, every moan sung for someone else, and in a fucked up way, we’d accepted it.

Our pasts were patchworks of trauma, woven by the unkind hands of fate—wildly different, yet with far too many similarities. We ached as if we were stitched by the same thread, and longed for things we believed we’d never find again. In tossing him aside for a chance to see Lorelie again, I’d confirmed everything we both already knew.

He would’ve done the same if it were Alastair, and that was why it hurt him so much more. Because he would never get that chance again.

The question came before I could stop it. “Is that why you loathe her so much?”

When he didn’t answer immediately with defensiveness or even a huff of annoyance, I was convinced he had fallen asleep. Just when I was about to curl in on myself, he elected to answer. “Partially, yes.”

“It scares you, doesn’t it? To see that potential, even when you don’t fully understand it?”

“Yes.”

Wishing for nothing more than to be able to wrap my arms around him, I whispered, “There is nothing wrong with that, Caspian. You deserve to be happy.”

“In a realm built on my imprisonment, it is beginning to feel less and less probable.” His voice fell flat, embodying a numbness I’d watched him try to drink away in the past.

“Then we fight for a realm where you are free, and where it is your reality.”

An exhale was his only answer, and a groan of affliction chased it as he adjusted himself on the hay mattress. He didn’t speak again, and as I waited in case he changed his mind, the shadows that closed in nipped at the back of my eyes. Exhaustion took over, lids fluttering with its incessant tug as I allowed unconsciousness to tether itself to me.

Yet, as I drifted, I swore I heard the gentle brush of a voice hum, “That possibility will never exist, because she will die before it ever happens.”

CHAPTER 12

Devout Worship

ALASTAIR

The hour spent with Kael had been filled with disclosures that further complicated everything. He spoke of the insectoid creature that crawled from a summoned portal, which I quickly related to my interactions with the bat-like beings I’d cut through before Rohen’s arrival. But that wasn’t what had convoluted my building assumption; it was Parran’s continued insistence, and Kael’s recollection of his ability to wield.

Magic.

The mention of otherworldly mysticism felt far from tangible, considering the king had banished it from our realm. It had been decades since even the dimmest spark of sorcery was spoken of in Wraelira, and Parran’s statement alongside the prince’s condition only disproved all we thought we knew.

“He tapped into power that exists outside of this realm, because he was born of the land beyond the veil, and has never once shared lineage with your corrupt king.”

Kael spoke of his ability to weave the shadows, to control fractals of darkness to obey his command. In doing so, my opinion shifted to the possibility of him being a Child of the gods—a Divari, as Rohen informed us—a possibility which was then refuted by the Daughter of Ellira herself.

Rohen shared how it felt to merge with her mother’s essence, and how the outcome Kael faced was unlike anything she’d ever felt, meaning another piece was missing from our complicated puzzle. Powers were seeping in from a realm beyond our own, and the poison tainting our lands banned its very use.

Only the Damned themselves could breach that line by channeling through their Children. Where Rohen confirmed it, Parran warned of Kael’s continued use, stating that if he pushed himself as he had again, he likely wouldn’t survive. When we asked how they’d accessed their power, they said it was a blessing from the gods to protect what they held dear.