Page 71 of Claimed By the Depths

“Differences aside,” Kael started, gesturing to the obvious line between the groups, “there is a looming war on the horizon and far more pertinent things to focus on.”

Craning his head to the side, Alastair offered him a smile. “Who is claiming difference?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Seridean, and considering my captain is on your ship, I would be mindful,” Syoran growled in warning, fingers gripping his biceps.

“Ironic, coming from the man whose captain is on my ship.” Striations danced over Alastair’s cheeks, the drastic shift I’d sensed in his demeanor surging to the forefront.

Glare intensifying, Caspian’s second snarled, “I did not invite you to set foot on your former friend’s ship to⁠—”

“Right,” Alastair interrupted, his grin growing more taunting. “You called us over here to discuss sail routes, as well as your idea to charge into Serevalen headfirst. Tell me, Kao, do you not recall what happened the last time we set foot in the Capital?”

“For the love of the gods,” I spat, stepping from my position in our formed circle.

Kael moved to stop me, but I brushed him off. With a quick side-step, I avoided his attempt to secure a hold on my shirt. Not wasting a second, my palms met the gunwale, and with one shove, I hoisted myself onto it. Below, the group barked in protest, Syoran the loudest among them after knowing what happened the last time I set foot on the upper edge of the ship.

“Rohen, if you don’t get the fuck⁠—”

“Shut up!” The scream erupted from me, a powerful wave slamming against the hull in response. Forced to grab one of the many ropes, I wound it around my hand and continued without missing a beat. “The arrogance and abhorrence that coat all of you is sickening, especially considering all we’ve already achieved together. You want to continue spewing hatred? Fine, waste each other’s time, because all I see are miserable people blaming their shortcomings on one another to make themselves feel better.

“You didn’t want anyone knowing you bathe in self-loathing? Too bad, because you’re dripping with the waters of cynicism.” Training my glare on both Syoran and Alastair, the words I wished to utter to every sanctimonious piece of meat that crossed my path as if he were worth remembering, tumbled from me. “Neither of you is better than the other for what you are or aren’t able to supply to Caspian. Your judge of character resides in the here and now, and as far as I’m fucking concerned, both of you are failing for being unable to cast the past aside and stand together for him.”

Silence swathed the deck, and heads craned in my direction as the passerby crew members watched, a mix of horror and awe on their faces. The former was a feeling I wish I could eradicate, one that had seeped through the planks beneath their feet in the form of spilled lineage and ceased livelihood. I’d robbed them of people they’d once cherished, men who they’d grown to love and walk alongside as found family and promised future.

A throat cleared, Kael glancing between the others. “Well? She’s got you by your balls, gentlemen.”

Alastair peered up at me, but there wasn’t an ounce of frustration etched into his sharp features. Instead, a glint of approval flickered in his eyes, and a soft, genuine smile crossed his lips. “Apologies,” he stated, first to me before he shifted his attention to Syoran, “for being such a self-righteous bastard. I suppose you could say I’m a bit… uneasy, which isn’t an excuse. Jaskor just offered me information, but not without cost.”

Head spinning toward him, Leilani’s brows fell in concern. “What do you mean?”

“The journals we have seem to contain fragments of the prophecy, pieces that do not paint the whole picture. While Caspian’s scroll and the notes he’s written have proved beneficial, paired with Ignis’ insight on the artifacts, there is still something we are missing.” Combing his fingers through his hair, Alastair sighed heavily. “When Jaskor spoke to me, he made it known that there are sacred texts, other journals that may point to some form of summoning. Perhaps one that involves all five of the artifacts we are seeking.”

“Which would be where?” Kael posed, looking to Syoran for a reply.

The captain’s second bit his bottom lip before loosening a breath filled with unease. “His chambers.”

“Do you have access to them?” Leilani asked, her mocha eyes flaring with newfound brightness.

Dipping his chin in reply, Syoran turned to me. “Would you get the fuck down, please?”

“Are you going to show them Caspian’s quarters?”

He nodded.

Not immediately satisfying his plea, I cast an unamused expression at Alastair.

“Rohen,” he prompted, but when I didn’t answer, he cocked a brow. “What?”

“Sailing?” Motioning toward Syoran, I added, “We have a trek to make, do we not?”

As if my continued judgment prompted the two Fae to engage, Parran pivoted. The breeze tousled their white locks, weaving through the strands with a gracefulness only an ethereal creature could emanate. Their matching freckles gleamed beneath the golden rays, contrasting against their periwinkle skin and highlighting their unquestionable beauty.

“I can teleport us there.”

Alastair’s retort was just as quick. “No.”

Annoyance clouded Parran’s cornflower eyes. “What? Why?”

“Because you’ve already used plenty of your power. With the restraints in place because of the corruption suffocating our lands, there is only so much I will take a chance on. And you are not one of those things, Parran.”