Page 89 of Claimed By the Depths

Standing before a vast citadel carved from obsidian and flame, my gaze settled on the blazing torrent cascading from the crown-like structure above. Lava plummeted from its jagged shape, illuminating towering pillars that vanished into a haze of smoke and ember. Coating the air, the combination of ash and emanating heat threatened to devour my essence with its fury. Encapsulating the desolate landscape, all that existed were hues of orange, red, and black—the colors of Wraelira becoming nothing more than a distant memory.

Nausea bloomed in my stomach as a presence manifested behind me, her voice thick with indignation and humor. “How many times do I have to remind you, Caspian Vayne? You are mine, and mine only.”

I spun on my heel, weaponized words at the ready, but Sorva’s fingers clamped around my throat, preventing their escape. Hoisting me from the ground with sickening ease, my attention fell on the fresh carvings etched just above her collarbones. Each was a pattern I’d never seen on her skin before, skin she had forced me to revere through the bind engraved beneath my branded chest.

The first was clean and symmetrical, centered on a single vertical laceration. Sharp geometric shapes layered with smooth arcs, paired with long diagonal lines that extended outward, while circles and short horizontal marks framed the top and bottom. There was something about it that was familiar, as if I’d known it or witnessed it somewhere else. But when I moved to the second, a deep-seated knowing billowed within me.

The structure of the sigil relied on a vertical spine with smooth, flowing curves branching outward. It featured a circular element near its peak, delicate crescent-like arcs, and subtle horizontal accents that gave it its otherworldly edge. Designed like an arrow, its bottom half aimed downward, a hinted direction that gave way to its purpose.

The realm my father ruled.

As if sensing my wandering eyes, Sorva tightened her hold. Nails piercing my flesh, anguish slithered through my veins, her corruption spreading like a virus. “Would you like to know that, because of your inability to ward me off, not only have you harmed the woman your heart yearns for, but the very god with whom you share a lineage?”

“F-F-Fuck… you,” I spat, desperately trying to pry her polluted touch from my neck.

Her cackle pierced the air. “You are a naïve and pitiful man. You keep playing this make-believe game only because I allow it. The autonomy you think you have exists only because I permit it. I’ve already consumed all you are, Vayne, and if I so much as desired to, I could damn you to this realm. For it is where you fucking belong.” Tracing the line of my jaw with her finger, she grinned. “You are your father’s son, and that is exactly why his essence is fizzling, because the two of you simply lie down and take it like the good boys you are.”

Consciousness slipping, shadows blackened my line of sight, waiting to pull me under. My frame slackened as she continued to pump me full of the maliciousness she led with, her tongue lapping up the side of my face as I straddled both light and dark. While everything else faded aside from her grip, her statement chased me from the mirage she’d placed.

“The life she breathes into you is delicious, and that is the only reason I have not snuffed out your existence. But trust me, Caspian, when I desire your presence, obedience, and attention, you will arrive ready to provide.”

“Caspian!” Rohen’s plea served as my anchor, grounding me in the present as I sucked in a wavering breath. “Oh my gods, Caspian…”

With her palms settled on both of my cheeks, she loomed over me, fear pulsing from her in thick waves. Hair disheveled, the flush of her skin, and the disarray of her otherwise composed nature earned a weakened chuckle from me.

“I-I’m…”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me!” she shouted, her hands shaking with an intensity I hadn’t noticed at first. “You stopped responding, Caspian. You… You’re bleeding. It’s like… Wherever you went and whatever happened affected you here. Your veins… Sorva’s influence; it’s⁠—”

Grabbing the back of her neck, I forced her lips to meet mine. As my mouth overlapped hers, I drank her in, desiring to intoxicate myself with her essence. She was unlike anything I’d ever tasted, anything I’d ever experienced, and if Sorva was going to whisk me away, I wanted Rohen to be the last thing I remembered.

As I deepened the kiss, it transcended everything that had come before. Transforming into a claim, it served as a display of my guttural need for all Rohen was and all she’d become. Spiced citrus and nutmeg swathed my senses, ridding me of the Dark Mother’s ownership and touch. It was a cleansing, a coaxing from the reality that damned me and the implications of my tainted life force.

Tension dissipated in Rohen’s body, and she melted into my arms. Fingers clutching my face, her tongue swept across my teeth as each heightened inhale increased with her sorrow-laden desire. Her touch was fueled by desperation and longing, each one whisking away the impending circumstances awaiting me as she explored my frame.

Still, the shackles of Sorva’s confinement closed around my wrists and ankles. It was only a matter of time before the malevolent deity devoured all I was and crafted me into whatever she desired. I knew she would weaponize my bind to ensure I did her bidding, to harm those I loved, just as she already had. Their scars served as an incessant reminder of the poison leeching off my essence, of the venom rendering me incapable of escaping all that loomed over me. That was, unless she granted me freedom or if death dared to caress me with an early embrace.

Offering Rohen a fleeting kiss, I loosed a sigh. “I’m okay, Ro. I’ll be okay.”

“No.” She settled her forehead against mine and shook her head. “Nothing about what is happening to you is okay, and I refuse to label it as such.”

I brushed her hair behind her ear with my thumb, fingers forming to her jaw. “I understand, but it has to be okay because there is no other option. Not now, anyway.”

“Then we fight for an option.” Chasing my touch, she rubbed her cheek against my calloused palm. “We fight, Caspian, and we do not give up.”

With a dip of my chin, I smiled softly. “Okay. We fight, and we do not give up. Whatever you wish, my little siren.”

“I wish for you and your freedom. There is nothing more I want than to get to know the man who exists beneath her crafted persona. The man whom I had the blessing of meeting last night.” Her lips met my nose before moving to the top line of my beard to traverse my neck. Peppering kisses over my sensitive flesh and the reminder of Sorva’s hold, she whispered, “I want to see a better world with you in it, for there is no other man I wish to have by my side. My soul longs for you, Caspian Vayne, and no matter how much I tried to deny it, my mother was right. You are my Mizani.”

Mizani.

Ellira.

Elaros.

The sigils.

“Wait,” I rasped.