Page 40 of Claimed By the Depths

Agitation caused my timbre to pitch, a ripple of magic rolling through the throne room in warning. “It is pertinent you remember your place. Challenges within our ranks are unnecessary when we are on the precipice of the scales tipping entirely.” I paused, waiting to see if any of them wished to test my slipping patience. When I was met with silence, I continued, “Caspian remains leashed to me, though his fated ties with Rohen have begun to rouse.

“Originally, such a discovery was unnerving. But now? It has become a point of leverage. The bind I’ve set in place feeds off his life force, meaning the more he pulls, the worse his health becomes. We are cognizant that, for the Divari to overpower us, they must all join in arms, meaning those spread throughout Narvendor as well. So,” I grinned as my magic built, “we have a rebellious pirate, a guilt-ridden assassin, and scattered godlings, but most of all, we have one of the gravest weaknesses—love.”

“Are you suggesting Ellira’s daughter has begun testing the waters of her draw toward Elaros’s Son?” Kyrn asked as she shifted to lean her head on Maulix’s shoulder. “If so, we weaponize their yearning.”

“Precisely,” I confirmed. “As Caspian continues prying his greedy fingers beneath the tendrils I’ve wrapped around his essence, I loosen my hold just enough to give him hope—a sense of feeling, self-realization that he truly has never known who he is, and a building sense of his dedication to the woman he is soul-tied with. And when their connection sparks, I yank on his leash, and in return, the formed link between them serves in my favor.”

Evrexiths dropped his elbows on the table, his skepticism palpable. “How so?”

“They are Mizani, of course.” Ripping the blade from Brix’s thigh, his weakened whine indicated that he was ready for us. “When love flares between two fated, injury translates. While my bind may not inflict as much damage as the extremes Caspian will face, Rohen will still be affected. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally, as she feels her lover begin to drift. Every wound is duplicated when two souls are meant to be one.”

“And in dwindling their light, the strength of their attempted rebellion fractures.” Vrax’s palms slapped against the table as she squealed in glee. “Oh, I love this idea. Psychological and physical torment as a means to drive them away from one another, either in death or in loathing.”

“Then the Damneds’ ambitions fade out, and we rule without their interference. They are only as strong as their remaining heirs. Without them, they are nothing, and we can ensure they stay that way.” Craning my head to the side, I peered at Octavius. “Thoughts, darling?”

“Aside from finding your conniving mind even more alluring? I have nothing.”

I turned my attention to the four who followed every utterance I offered as if I were their god and not stitched from the same essence as they were. “As for you four?”

“We are all in agreement with your proposition, our Beloved Other.”

Lips upturning, my thirst exemplified. “Then let us feast.”

Blade in hand, I secured my hold around the hilt before slashing the sharpened edge across the soft flesh of Brix’s throat. Crimson splattered, pouring from his neck—a waterfall of pure ecstasy. Bringing the steel to my mouth, I flattened my tongue against it, sucking off the intoxicating lineage of yet another human life squandered.

Evrexiths stood, chalice in hand, and wasted no time filling it like one would gather water from a spigot. Once satisfied with his take, he brought the glass to his lips and swallowed. “Blessed be, dark goddess, Sorva.”

Stepping to the side, Vrax followed and repeated the action. Maulix was next, and then Kyrn. By the time Octavius made it to Brix’s deceased frame, I slipped from the silver that kept my body cloaked in thin layers of darkness. Allowing it to fall, I peered up at him beneath my lashes, and he aided me with the other strap.

Dress falling from my marked skin, my pebbled nipples perked at the sudden chill that brushed across my nude flesh. Stepping from the material pooled at my feet, I took Evrexiths’s and Maulix’s hands as they aided my step onto one of the chairs before I lowered myself onto the table we’d all sat at. Lying down against the polished oak, I trailed my fingers up my bare thighs before finding my cunt.

Quick to massage my clit with gentle circles, my back arched, a shuddering breath slipping from me as I offered them my command. “Indulge in my regality. Bathe in my essence. Baptize yourselves in my pleasure.”

They wasted no time circling me. The king stood at the edge of the table and spread my legs. Dropping his trousers, he buried himself in my core, leaving Maulix with just enough space. The latter positioned himself where my fingers had been, tongue replacing my touch. Kyrn lapped at my nipple, and the carnality I craved consumed my essence. My lips parted in response, but my moan was silenced as Vrax lowered herself on my face.

As they feasted on me, greedily taking whatever I would offer them, Evrexiths downed the rest of his blood before slipping into the shadows from which he was born and leaving me to tip over the edge of temptation.

For this was just the beginning of my rule.

CHAPTER 22

Dreamscape of Damnation

CASPIAN

Her auburn hair glistened beneath the golden beams of the setting sun that slipped through the cracked window. I admired her freckled skin and the radiance clinging to her. Head tipped back at the joke I’d made, her laughter spilled through the small kitchen of our cottage.

To most, it wasn’t much, but to us, it was everything.

Exposed timber beams accented the soaring vaulted ceiling. Our loft bedroom overlooked the cozy living room below, the two spaces connected with an elegant wooden spiral staircase. Soft amber blended with the natural light; the few lanterns we hung only lit when night neared. The crackling fireplace joined in, its gentle pops easy to hear as I settled on the leather sofa.

Rohen moved through the compact kitchen, snatching her preferred copper cookware to set it on the wood countertop. Nursing the space just as she had the plants that filled it, cascading pothos and ivy trailing from the exposed beams and loft railings, her hum wove through the silence. She gently pulled a handful of herbs from their potted home on the kitchen windowsill, my eyes sweeping from her to the large monsteras and fiddle-leaf figs that occupied the corners of the room. Overhead, the ferns that spilled from the hanging baskets suspended near the skylight seemed to sway with her song.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already dozed, Caspian Vayne,” she warned, perching herself on her toes to peer over at me.

Lifting my head, I offered her a raised brow. “How could I when I have far too much beauty to look at?”

She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the soft smile that coaxed the corners of her mouth upward. “You’re ridiculous.”