Page 63 of Claimed By the Depths

“Caspian!” My blood-slicked palms cupped his pale and clammy face. “Come on, wake up!”

Tremors continued rocking his unconscious frame, the dark life force he’d heaved lining the edges of his mouth. Its tainted hue matched the newly visible black veins that peeked out from beneath his tattoo and stretched toward the center of his neck—the continued influx of ‌Sorva’s corruption.

“You must get him on the ship,” Ellira chimed down our bond, concern prevalent in her tone. “Parran can aid, but with the state he is in, he will need your help as well.”

As if my mother summoned his intervention, Syoran settled one hand on my shoulder and the other on Caspian’s arm. “Rohen. We cannot stay here. He needs help⁠—”

“I know!” I barked, swiveling in his direction while my touch sat unmoved against Caspian’s skin.

“Okay.” Pressing his lips into a taut line, the co-captain held my burning glare with unwavering calm. “Then Alastair and I need to get him to the medical bay so Parran can heal him.”

A proximity that had once disgusted me became dire as Syoran suggested the need to peel myself from the man I should’ve felt nothing other than loathing for. The man who purchased me from a brothel, even though I was never for sale. One capable of atrocities and destruction, whom Sorva had forced to become all she wished him to be, until he… until he wasn’t. Until he was someone far more gentle.

“I was here when it all happened,” I muttered as my fingers slid down Caspian’s cheek to his jaw before clutching his sweat-laden shirt. “I won’t leave him.”

“That isn’t what I’m⁠—”

Not allowing Syoran to finish, a lengthened exhale bloomed from behind me. “Kael.”

Before I could understand the hidden meaning of the name Alastair called, the captain of the Scarlet Tempest wrapped his arms around mine and hoisted me from the ground. My touch brushed Caspian once before the solidity of his physical presence vanished. Hold tightening, Alastair pinned my elbows beneath his as he tugged me flush against him, his sudden warmth only igniting my anger.

I thrashed, bucking my hips into the air as I kicked my legs. “Let me go!”

Amid my struggle, Kael moved to take the spot the man restraining me would have, and slipped an arm under Caspian. He worked in tandem with Syoran, the two of them scooping Caspian up from where he’d collapsed.

Heaved upright, the captain of the Bloodmarked hung limp between them. With paired groans, they secured their grip while Caspian’s head lolled until his chin settled flush against his chest. Lifeless in a way that kindled that godsdamned terror I believed myself rid of, the wounds in his shoulder and abdomen became more apparent. Before I could examine them further, Syoran and Kael pivoted.

As they carried him toward the docks, Leilani’s query barely registered. “Would you like⁠—?”

“No,” Alastair responded. “Take the others and get the ship ready for departure. I don’t give a damn which vessel everyone elects to settle on.”

There wasn’t a reply, but I knew his other half had dipped her chin before the shift of boots against cobblestone came, the others promptly following her without argument.

With Alastair’s attention sidelined to the woman he would sacrifice the world for, I rammed back into him. My head followed, and I prayed to whatever god would listen that my skull would crack against Alastair’s face with a force equal to the desperation I felt. But, as the gods always wished to mock me, his palm caught my attack, halting it entirely.

“Fuck, Rohen. Stop,” he hissed, his other forearm compressing tighter around my midsection.

“I will fucking kill you, Seridean!” I spat, venom coating my tongue as I drove my shoulder into his. “Let. Me. Go!”

“Not until you calm the fuck down, Levitte.” The hand that had intercepted me moved to curl around my forehead, further restricting my movements. “I am just as concerned, but heightened states won’t help the godsdamned situation.”

Squirming without earning an ounce of reprieve, I blinked through the building burn behind my eyes. “Ellira said he needs more than Parran.”

“Clearly,” Alastair mumbled. “But no one, not even you, can work efficiently when billowing panic clouds the mind.”

“I can manage under high-stress situations⁠—”

“Yeah? Were you managing by refusing our help because you were too caught up in staying beside him?” His utterance ghosted over my skin, goosebumps multiplying beneath it. “There is no pretending anymore, Rohen. I am far too acquainted with your reactivity because I have experienced the same.”

“No, you⁠—”

“I loved him!” Alastair heaved as he let me go. With a prompt shove, I stumbled forward toward freedom, but he was quicker. Snatching the collar of my shirt, he spun me to face him as he practically whispered, “Hell, I’m certain I still do.”

Examining the new vibrancy of his golden stare and the intention buried in it, my breath caught in my throat. “You’re torn. Aren’t you?”

His hand traveled down his face as he scratched his beard. “Everyone’s safety is important to me, Rohen.”

“No,” I huffed, a mix of a laugh and a scoff forming on my lips. “You will not stand here and claim that you still harbor any care for him if you are considering doing anything other than granting him the help and freedom he deserves.”