Page 64 of Claimed By the Depths

“Did we not observe the same fucking thing?” His snarl was potent, highlighting the rage I knew he carried. “The dark influence polluting his veins? Have you fucking forgotten what you witnessed? How quickly he bowed to their leader without so much as⁠—?”

“He has never had a choice!” I screamed, the ocean roaring in response to my indignation as it crashed against the harbor. “Why the fuck would you punish him when he’s been punished his entire life?! He’s never known autonomy, Alastair. She has always been there, stringing him along as if he is nothing more than a godsdamned puppet, and you want to treat him similarly?”

“This disagreement is doing nothing more than wasting precious time.”

“Oh, how convenient that now, suddenly, you wish to board the ship after holding me hostage.” My shoulders rose and fell with heated breaths. “What? Did I strike a nerve?”

“Rohen.” A warning.

“Alastair.” A taunt.

Carving through our clash, a bell chimed, a last call for those expected to board the ship. Its incessant beat drowned out my thoughts, my focus expanding from the blinders that had blocked everything out but Caspian.

The once-pristine cobblestone streets lay fractured beneath fallen slabs of rock, forcing winding paths through fields of rubble and shattered masonry. Many of the buildings carved from the mountain’s rock bore gaping wounds, some missing entire walls and exposing hollow interiors and splintered beams to the mist drenching the land. Cracked pillars and broken archways stood as silent reminders of the onslaught. Not only from all the crown wrought, but from the entities I’d summoned in my surge of distress.

I scanned the building crowd for Malrik, knowing damn well he had used Caspian as a distraction and means to escape. Instead of finding those haunting white eyes or the Other’s beckoning scarlet glower, every onlooker stared past Alastair and me. Expecting their gazes to be locked on the Seven-Headed Terror of the Deep, my breath hitched when I realized where their fixation fell instead, Yxalune nowhere to be found.

Hundreds of warriors, each forged entirely from the waters my mother commanded, knelt in perfect stillness. Their translucent forms rippled with restrained power as moonlight shimmered across their fluid armor and weapons. Though they possessed no faces, every bowed head conveyed absolute loyalty, as if the tides themselves had already sworn fealty to me.

At the forefront stood a single figure who alone remained upright—a towering commander whose currents churned with deeper strength. His form held impossible precision while the rest of them remained motionless behind him. Removing his helm, white hair slipped free, and, unlike the men behind him, lacking any notable attributes, a favored hand had carved his.

Cyan irises locked on me, his sharp jaw tightening with an air of protectiveness. Fist greeting his chest, he bowed at the waist. “Lovely Heir of the Seas, what do you wish of us?”

The implications of his question crashed into me like a rushing wave, the title he uttered bearing every responsibility I was on the precipice of carrying. I was to take Ellira’s place, to command the waters as efficiently as she had. To protect the humans whom she and the other gods loved so much, the very thing the Others had damned them for.

Swallowing my shock, my mother’s feather-light touch caressed the back of my mind. “General Pelagos. One of my right hands. Order him as you please, for he and his men will oblige your wishes.”

With her encouragement, I glanced back over my shoulder at the village residents whose lives had been upturned. “As I am certain you are aware, as much as I wish it were possible, I cannot stay. There is someone I need to tend to.” Turning back to General Pelagos, I extended him a gentle smile indicative of my appreciation. “Please, if you will, order your men to aid in the cleanup and ensure those of Hollowmere are well.”

“Of course, Your Highness, we shall tend to the living while you do so for your Mizani.”

Biting my lip at the damned word Ellira had spoken countless times, I swallowed my denial. Dipping my chin, I exchanged one last glance with him, entrusting those my mother had trained to do exactly as they said. And, as if my mother wished to prove herself, Pelagos slipped past me with fluidity, the masses of those he commanded following behind.

Sighing in relief at their promptness to oblige my utterance, I returned my attention to Alastair. “I’m done arguing with you. Let’s go…”

My words faded, and my glare narrowed on the space he had been before I slipped into my pending role. Chin snapping toward the shoreline, I caught sight of his golden locks and, with another slew of curses, ran to catch up.

Tying off the last stitch, I peered up at Caspian.

His chest rose and fell, but there was a rattle between each breath that reignited my fear. Skin blanched, blackened veins more prominent, and with him tucked beneath the soft sheets adorning the cot in the medical bay on Alastair’s ship, he appeared almost… vulnerable.

An unshielded and unguarded man whom I yearned to protect, no matter how much I attempted to deny it.

“Hm… It’s almost as if I’ve explained the reasoning.” The lightness in Ellira’s tone clashed with my building ire. “I told you it is something you cannot escape, Daughter. The two of you are soul ties, fated mates; your destiny lies with one another. So take your anger and cast it elsewhere.”

“I am not angry.”

“You are a liar.”

“Seriously? I already argued with Alastair, and now you⁠—”

“Rohen?”

The gentle utterance drew me from my internal clash with the goddess as I turned to meet a cornflower stare. “Yes, Parran?”

“I have…” They fiddled with their fingers nervously. “I have done everything I’m able. He is comfortable and will be well, but this is only a temporary fix.” Shaking their head, white locks tousled. “Sorva’s influence is as thick as sap and impossible to rid him of, and his soul… It’s… It’s slipping the longer she imprisons him. I’m fearful that what awaits him is not⁠—”

“That’s enough,” another voice, Alastair, prompted as he shifted from where he’d rested against the wall. “We are acquainted with the implications, Parran. Thank you for your efforts and all you have offered him. Please get some food and rest. You’ve exerted yourself plenty.”