Page 79 of Claimed By the Depths

I kissed her pulse point. “You know what.”

The smile was evident in her cadence. “You are mine, Caspian Vayne.”

“Yes, I am yours, Rohen Levitte. Yours to command, yours to wield, yours to guide.” Another kiss. “Whatever way you want me, I am yours.”

“As you are,” she whispered as she raked her fingers through my hair. “I want you as you are, Caspian Vayne. Scars and all, for I do not see a broken man, but someone worth a thousand of the brightest stars our realm has to offer.”

CHAPTER 42

Midnight-Black Petals

SYORAN

Tendrils of the early morning sun lapped at the decks, devouring the salt water that had splashed aboard. Overhead, birds sang, their tune carrying an undercurrent of promise. It was a valiant hymn, one that spoke of a better future where freedom reigned, and autonomy was preserved.

One we were sailing toward.

As the sea glistened in a sheet of shattered gold, every swell threw flecks of light back into my eyes. The warm breeze filled each taut canvas, carrying us onward with little complaint from the ship. Alongside its gentle caress, tar, sea, and timber mingled in the air, familiar scents that clung to every plank beneath my boots.

Crossing the deck with a coil of rope over one shoulder, I lent a hand wherever it was needed—hauling a stubborn line, securing loose rigging, helping scrub away the salt that forever crusted the gunwale. But most of all, I admired our crew, a group of individuals who moved with an easy rhythm born from years together, their laughter painting the air with a peacefulness I knew we all craved.

Having been ordered by them to take a break, I planted myself on the sterncastle deck. Forearms rested on the railing beside the stairs leading down to the quarter deck, I loosed an exhale before glancing over my shoulder at Lionel.

Lips drawn tight in concentration, the scar cutting across his bottom lip became more pronounced. Steering the ship with his mahogany gaze cast at the horizon, my stare didn’t go unnoticed. “Yes, captain?”

“Nothing of pertinence. Though I do want to apologize for my outburst, it was not⁠—”

“There is no need to do anything of the sort.”

“Yes, there is,” I insisted, shoving myself from the wooden banister. “In my disarray, I treated you poorly. Less than, honestly, and there is no excuse, nor will I accept that it is allotted because of my stand-in role as captain. Our positions on this ship do not indicate a hierarchy of respect. We are family.”

The corners of his mouth curled upward, and he dipped his chin. “Then I suppose I accept your apology,” he teased.

With the roll of my eyes, I matched his smile with one of my own. Peeling the band from my wrist, I worked my fingers through my hair, combing it back into submission before beginning to tie it back. “Would you like me to take the helm?”

“No. I’ve rather enjoyed my time here.”

I offered him a look indicative of challenge, to which he met with a cock of his brow. “Alright,” I put my hands up in mock surrender, “but if you change your mind, just let me know.”

“Will do, Cap.” Gesturing to the main deck with his chin, he grinned. “Now get down there; I know you have a man awaiting your presence. It would be a shame if he⁠—”

“Okay, okay,” I interrupted, not granting him the chance to finish.

“You’re adorable when you blush⁠—”

“Okay!” My face heated further, the sudden warmth climbing to my ears. Clearing my throat, I jutted a finger in his direction. “Heard. I’m leaving.”

As I padded down the stairs, Lionel’s laughter flowed through the air, steady and hearty. “Go get ‘em, Kao.”

I counted my footfalls before greeting the lower deck. As the repetitive drum of my boots continued against the wooden planks, every noise vanished. And with Lionel’s words fresh on my mind, my thoughts settled on the man he had referenced.

The mourning prince I knew I stood no chance with.

My heel greeted the main deck, and I pivoted toward the cabins, only to be halted by a strong frame. Chest slamming into another, the air nearly evaporated from my lungs at the force of our collision. Instinctively, I backpeddled with an apology on my tongue, and met all-white eyes.

Ignis blinked in partial shock and intrigue. “In a hurry, captain?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, holding his analyzing stare. “No. You just happen to navigate this ship with far too little warning.”