Page 42 of Claimed By the Depths

Caspian…

Make it stop.

Caspian.

Make it stop.

“Caspian!” A hand settled on my shoulder, another wrapping around my forearm. “Cas, fucking hell. What happened?”

Fearful of what I would find, I hesitantly lifted my chin to find Sapphira crouched in front of me. Brows drawn together in concern, her caramel irises held mine. Her touch slowly faded, only for her fingers to find mine, unwinding them from my locks as she replaced my harsh yanks with light scratches.

Emotion swelled as adrenaline wore off, leaving only unrelenting fear. My inhale fractured, and a sob replaced my exhale as I collapsed into her.

“Hey… Hey,” she murmured, tracing gentle circles along my back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Cas. I’ve got you. Gods, I’m so sorry…”

Unable to find a reply, I wept. Years of pent-up anger that had never belonged to me slipped between every shattered breath. All the regret I harbored tumbled out in pitiful whimpers, flashes of my past assaulting my mind as images of Alastair reminded me of all I’d lost. Essence fracturing, the realization slammed into me—I had only ever known myself beneath Sorva’s control, and the man who existed beneath the martyr she created was a stranger.

The man who longed for Rohen was screaming for freedom, for a gasp of fresh air after being shoved under the icy depths of Sorva’s containment for so long. He was pleading for freedom in a world where such a concept didn’t exist, crying out for reprieve from the monster who wore his flesh. The person I had been in my dream was a glimpse of all I thought I could have, all I wished for, knowing damn well it was an impossible reality.

I was a fool.

Saph pulled me closer, my head falling to meet her chest. “You’re here, Caspian. Not wherever⁠—”

“I don’t want to be here…” I mumbled, the same numbness from my nightmare swathing my senses. “This existence is a trap, Saph, and I want out… Gods, I fucking want out…”

“And we will get you out, I promise you.” Her voice dropped, as if she were concerned Malrik would hear us, but he was the least of my worries.

“No, she won’t,” Sorva purred down our link, her talons brushing against the back of my mind. “Do you not recall your dream, Caspian? That is what awaits you if you keep opposing me. If you do not long to suffer, then allow yourself to plummet into my hold. Give yourself to me again, just as you always have.”

“Get out of my fucking head.”

“Impossible.” Her smile was evident in her tone. “You and I belong together, and we are going to accomplish great things. The realm of Wraelira will fall, and I will be so kind as to grant you a place of regality while all those around you are rendered to pitiful servants.” My lips parted with every desire to express my loathing audibly, but she prevented it. “Shush. We don’t need Sapphira worried about your well-being when she is there to make sure you obey, do we? Listen and be a good boy for me, would you? You’re about to dock in Hollowmere, and I want you to do what you did to Rohen in your dream.”

“No…” I heaved, barely able to form the single syllable.

“Yes.”

“No—”

White-hot agony lashed up my back, lapping at the base of my skull. An uncontrolled scream shredded itself free from my throat as I shoved myself from Sapphira’s arms. Another spike of affliction followed, and my palms slapped against the wooden floor as nausea churned in my gut.

Digging my nails into the planks, I gasped for air as I caught sight of my hands once more. No longer coated in crimson, never having been coated in crimson, my veins pulsed with an inky darkness. Shoulders rolling forward, I heaved, expelling the minimal contents of my stomach. Instead of bile, my lineage coated the floor, and another retch followed, but where there should have been scarlet, all that greeted me was black.

“Oh, gods, Caspian…” Horror laced through Sapphira’s utterance. “Elaros, save him…”

With Sorva’s presence looming, I could feel her taloned fingers glide up my spine as if she were in the room with us. Thoughts evaporating into nothingness, a near-manic laugh was my response, and everything fell back into place as wrath consumed me once more.

“There is no salvation,” I snarled as I peered over at my navigator. “Not when we are seconds from docking in Hollowmere, and Rohen still breathes.”

CHAPTER 23

Scarlet Tempest

KAEL

“Syoran!”

Cradling Rohen against me, I settled the back of my hand against her forehead. Cold. With the realization, images of Percival assaulted my mind—the light fading from his eyes—threatening to rob me of the air in my lungs. Blinking through tears, I tried to focus on the beading sweat just above Rohen’s brow and the subtle rise and fall of her chest.