Page 25 of Claimed By the Depths

“Fuck, little fang, I’m not going to⁠—”

Lips crashing into mine, she continued. I cursed into her mouth, her tongue welcoming mine as passion fused. Her kiss deepened as her pace increased, our union becoming more potent. Each rock forward urged that tightness in my abdomen to unfurl, and my toes curled in a pathetic attempt to fight it.

She must have felt me tense beneath her, because she drew back to whisper, “Fill me with your seed, Alastair, for there is no other man I wish to lay claim to me than you.”

My chin tipped, and just before another moan could escape me, she consumed it. Tightening her hold on my hair, she yanked, and a dull pain rippled across my scalp. She continued with lethal intention, each grind against me intensifying to the point I teetered on that edge. All it took was her whimpered cry and the constriction of her walls—a second orgasm surging through her as I crested my own peak.

“Fuck,” I huffed against her mouth as our breaths became fused, my warmth meshing with hers.

My sensitivity built as she milked me of every ounce of my essence, and my skull cracked into the headboard as I unleashed another moan. With my cock quaking inside of her, her rocking slowed. She drew back just enough to look at me, concern filling her mocha eyes.

Stroking along the spot on my head that had greeted the unforgiving surface, she frowned. “Gods, Alastair. Are you trying to knock yourself unconscious?”

A laugh bubbled in my throat, and she was quick to join me.

With our joy, love, and longing mixing as one, I wrapped my arms around her and drew her closer. Inhaling her scent, the horrors lingering in the back of my mind drifted to a state of nothingness. And if only for a fraction of time, I settled into her and allowed myself the reprieve, because I was well aware of what was looming on the horizon.

War.

CHAPTER 13

Two of Five

KAEL

While Parran demanded I remain under their care after I woke up, tension suffocated our first two days at sea. Even bedridden for that time, it wasn’t difficult to tell that something had happened between Alastair and Rohen, but when I asked what, neither of them bothered to share. Now, no longer confined to the infirmary, and with another forty-eight hours left until we reached Hollowmere, the temptation to jump overboard grew.

There was nothing more I desired than to free myself from the weight of our world. With Percy gone, my willingness to continue pushing where purpose no longer remained had dwindled. Sure, I had joined hands with strangers who were quickly becoming friends, but none of them would ever replace him. That was something we all felt and acknowledged—without his radiance, only an unsettling stillness lingered.

But, for me, it settled far deeper. With him no longer warming my deteriorating soul, I had nothing. The lure to become the man I never wished to be sank deeper with each breath. I was one more gut-wrenching experience away from writing off everything I knew and allowing my searing hatred to craft me into the man my father always craved I’d become.

Hell, part of me feared I was already there. Where I should have experienced a twinge of anguish as we drifted from Serevalen, an ounce of remorse for the people I aspired to protect, there was nothing. Instead, all that greeted me was a grueling sense of satisfaction in knowing that I would no longer be the only one suffering, the only one who had lost something dear.

That in the decrepit state of our realm, I wasn’t the only walking corpse.

A warm hand settled on my shoulder, drawing my attention from the tongues of the ocean lapping against the hull. Cornflower eyes met mine as I turned, no iris or pupil in sight. White freckles gleaming beneath the sun, Parran’s frosty brows drew together in concern, the gentle breeze catching their matching hair.

Lilac lips pressed in a straight line, they dipped their head to the side. “I called for you from the main deck a handful of times, and you did not answer. Your mind is drifting, is it not?”

With a sigh, I combed through my disheveled locks. “As much as I appreciate your concern, Parran, I⁠—”

“It was a simple yes or no question,” they interrupted, leaning against the gunwale. “I do not entertain the bullshit excuses you humans make. You may sit here and claim that you wish to be forgotten, not cared for, brushed off, but I am not stupid, nor will I allow you to insult me with such assumptions.”

Their bluntness was still something I was getting used to, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything I knew I’d regret. Gaze averted, I mumbled, “I never meant it as an insult, and I apologize⁠—”

Long periwinkle fingers swept beneath my chin, drawing my attention up their towering frame before we locked eyes once more. “I am not asking for an apology; I am asking for your honesty.”

“I…” Caught off guard by their nurturing stare and how otherworldly beauty rippled from them, I swallowed. “My mind is heavy, yes.”

The corners of their mouth curled upward. “You do not struggle to decipher the feelings of others, but those of your own, don’t you?”

Not wanting to test their patience any further, I nodded.

They moved their hand, settling it over my chest. “Grief is comparable to death in a way. The pain it brings is indescribable to those who have not felt it, and it is one thing I admire your kind for—being able to withstand its serrated teeth and unrelenting hunger.” Brushing their thumb across my collarbone, a bloom of relief followed. “You ache not only because of what you have lost, but because of what you long for.”

Unable to trust my ability to speak, I blinked through the near-blinding sting as I dipped my chin. There was nothing else I could offer, not when everything they said grazed the fissures in my existence. They weren’t wrong; if anything, they were too right, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

“This”—Parran spread their fingers, hand covering my entire chest—“there is nothing wrong with it. There is nothing wrong with you.”