Page 51

51

Claira

C hasing those pale lips, I lifted my head off his desk, but they tilted away, just out of reach.

“Ah-ah. That was one,” Abyssal said oh-so cruelly. His body caged me, his dark eyes holding the promise that he would not soon yield.

“No,” I whined, my neck craning, but he thwarted me again with a villainous twist of his neck.

Desperate, I captured what I could, brushing my lips over the hollow of his throat. “Please, please, please. ”

“Oh, Claira…” He muttered my name with a ragged breath. “Why bother bargaining with me if you’re not going to play by the rules?”

I didn’t care how disapproving he sounded. I had no intention of stopping, not until he’d completely forgotten that he was supposed to keep count.

“Enticing me with a taste of your power in the hopes of getting more from me, hmm?” The sensation of his pulse pounding beneath my lips spurred me on, and I kept kissing up his neck, even as he spoke. “Clever, but did you forget how little patience I have for seeing you bleed?”

I answered with a groaned kiss, an eager wash of my tongue stroking the side of his neck.

“And that little maneuver with our contract… That was quite naughty of you,” he said with a chuckle that made me want to be even naughtier for him. “Gracefully forging a name that isn’t your own?” He tsked , and I froze, my lips still on his throat.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice, my dear, sweet captive?” Beneath my loose shirt, his hand slipped higher, his fingers grazing the edge of my ribcage, taunting, testing. “Did you think I wouldn’t realize?”

“Forged? No, I—I didn’t forge anything.” When I looked up, his expression was that of a man convinced he was staring down a cunning temptress. “My passport and driver’s license, they both say— ahhh .”

A thumb swiped across my breast, and I arched into the touch, yearning for more.

“Do they, now?” he murmured, the pad of his thumb lingering just enough to tease. “And here I thought you were trying to deceive me. Fortunately or not, the contract accepted it, so our terms still stand. If you thought that kiss would satisfy your end of our contract, you’re mistaken.”

Fortunately or not? What did he mean by that?

His cool breath tickled my ear as he leaned in, whispering, “Before I forget. Stick out your tongue for me.”

My tongue? With a shaky breath, I extended it.

“So obedient,” Abyssal remarked, his gaze dark and devouring. “May I?”

Yes, please. I made an embarrassingly awkward noise with my tongue out, but the amusement in his smirk told me he approved. My stomach tightened, fluttering in anticipation, as his mouth descended.

A slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue brushed the edge of mine, and the lingering pain there melted into something far more pleasant.

“That’s better.” He pulled away far too soon, leaving me gasping for air, my tongue still extended.

What kind of sea wizardry was this? He’d healed me. I had absolutely no idea he could work magic with his tongue .

“Such a good little thing,” he mused as soon as I brought my tongue back into my mouth. Then, with a parting kiss too brief to satisfy, his hands, his body, everything withdrew.

“How lucky they are to have you,” he muttered as he turned away. “Claira Arwa .”

The way he said it twisted my insides, a venomous sting wrapped in something dark, almost accusatory.

Without him there to pin me, I sat up on his desk, dazed. Was he really upset that I’d signed with the name on the identification Barren had given me?

I’d gone through so many different names and so many identities. Which version of myself would he have preferred?

As far as I knew, that passport and driver’s license were the only official acknowledgments of my existence in this world at all. Not that they were exactly legal. I hadn’t asked Barren to put his name on my identification, but being his fake wife had made me feel many things I hadn’t expected.

I’d been so happy then. Blissfully, stupidly happy. But now? Maybe it was pathetic, clinging to his name like it could anchor me to the life I’d left back at the bungalow. Because who even knew if there was still anything there to hold on to? At least I knew they were safe.

“Is it really so wrong for me to want to be Claira Arwa?” I whispered, wrapping my arms around my middle. Now that Abyssal had pulled away, the hum of our joined magic in my veins was already dulling, leaving me feeling even more alone.

“Wrong? No. I wouldn’t call it that.”

“Be upset if you want,” I said with a shaky breath. “But nothing will ever change how much they mean to me. Even if my spells breaking means we can never be together again. Even if—” My throat choked, and I looked down and away, my hands twisting at the fabric of my shirt. “Even if they decide they don’t want me anymore.”

Tears welled too quickly to blink away, hot and traitorous against my lashes. Dammit. How had I become so fragile?

Maybe that was what love was. Giving away pieces of yourself to those you trusted to stay close enough to keep you whole.

But what happened when they were gone, and you couldn’t get the pieces back? When you were so full of holes from your soul being scattered, left with men who now carried it apart from you?

Did you just… break?

Arms that had been so quick to leave me found their way back around my shoulders. “Trust me, they couldn’t possibly not want you,” Abyssal murmured, his voice dropping as he pulled me closer. He held me to his chest, offering a stiff pat on my back. Comfort from a man who I was sure seldom received it.

There he was, once again, trying his best to keep my missing pieces from breaking me apart.

“There are too many gaps,” I murmured, the words muffled as I shook my head against his chest. Even though I was sure he didn’t know what I meant, he held me tighter.

“It doesn’t matter who or what you are, in this life or any other,” he assured me, whispering the words against the top of my head. “I’m certain they’ll always care for you. And should they decide otherwise, then that is their loss more than it is yours. Far more, in my opinion.” His fingers threaded through my hair, gentle even when his tone had shifted to something fiercer. “Don’t forget, your strength doesn’t come from them. It never has. It’s always been yours to carry, even when you couldn’t feel its weight.”

I closed my eyes, letting his kind words seep into all my cracks, softening up the broken edges. It made me wonder if a soul could be more like clay—molded and remade, even with pieces missing, into something that could stand on its own.

“And letting you go,” he continued, his voice going tight with anger, as if the mere thought of it tormented him, “they’d carry that regret with them forever. To their very last breath.”

I hummed softly against his shoulder, wiping away the last tear. “You think so?”

“Without question.”

He was trying to make me feel better, but he hadn’t seen the way Kai had looked at me when my true form decided to present itself. The initial repulsion that had shaken through him when he’d seen my tentacles breaking through.

Honestly, I didn’t blame him for it. He hadn’t been the only one of us disgusted. But this was who I was now. Who I’d become.

What a mess.

And yet, Abyssal was being so kind and comforting. Even while trying to maintain his distance, he still made me feel so cared for and so cherished.

“You really do like emotional women,” I said, hiding the urge to sniffle behind a wobbly smile.

I didn’t fully understand why he kept pushing me away, but every time, without fail, he came back to me when I needed him to.

“If I’d cried earlier, would you have kept kissing me?”

The deep roll of his laugh was almost enough to push away the pain of everything I’d lost within the span of just one day. “You think of the oddest things,” he said with a shake of his head. “But perhaps?”

Ha . That sly smirk was supposed to tell me he wasn’t serious, but I had to wonder.

“If you think that was odd, then you really don’t want to know what I can’t stop thinking about doing to your abs.” Then again, he had odd thoughts of his own, like using his tongue to heal me.

His dark eyes flashed with interest. “Oh?” His gaze dropped to where his shirt hung open until he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Ah, perhaps it’s better if I don’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have approved of it, anyway.”

Aside from maintaining his smirk, he didn’t give in to my taunt. Disappointing.

“Gosh, you’re cold,” I muttered, changing my focus to the damp ends of my sleeves. Although my gaze did drift lower, sneaking an entirely innocent look at his abs.

“And prickly,” he added, his arms sliding off me to pick up the mirror fragment beside me. It was a good thing I hadn’t landed on it when he flattened me out on his desk because I’d totally forgotten it was there.

I leaned back a little, watching as he returned it to its drawer. “Cold and prickly. Sounds like a lovely combo you’ve got going there.”

Abyssal shot me a wry grin before closing the drawer with a soft thud. “Works wonders keeping others away. Everyone except?—”

“Me,” I finished for him, tilting my head with a grin of my own.

“I was going to say Aracos.” He straightened up with a sharp flick of his wrist, surprising me by summoning his trident to his hand. When he turned his gaze back to me, his tone was suddenly formal. “Now that your eyes are hidden under a new enchantment, as the one tasked with restoring you to your true cecaelian self, it’s my obligation to inform the crown.”

“You’re telling her already?”

“Regrettably, yes.” His lips curled into a scowl that bared his teeth, mockery dripping from every word as he added, “I can only imagine that vile woman’s delight when I tell her. At long last, the Undersea’s princess has shed her curse and regained her tentacles.”

I shifted uneasily, muttering under my breath. “Lucky me.”

He leaned in, searching my eyes again. “Such a beautifully crafted spell,” he murmured. “There’s no need to worry now. The mark of what you are will remain hidden, even when you use your magic. Those who already know will no longer feel compelled to harm you. Unless, of course, they choose to do so on their own.”

“Good to know.” I swallowed hard, unsure if I was ready to trust that my eyes wouldn’t turn white again—or that everyone I came across wouldn’t try to rip my throat out as soon as they looked at me. “Thanks again for all your help. Really.”

He gave a simple nod as if I’d just thanked him for something trivial, not for literally saving my life. Typical sea wizard. He’d done more for me than I could put into words, yet he acted like it was the simplest thing.

“Now that I have my tentacles, maybe you won’t have to carry me so much?” I slid off his desk, mentally preparing myself to return to my new cecaelian form, but he stopped me with a soft touch to the side of my face.

“Stay here,” he said, already guiding me to his chair. “Rest. Clear your mind from all that’s happened. Although, I must confess, with what little magic I have left, it may take me a few hours to return. At least five or six, I imagine.”

Refusing to sit, I opened my mouth to argue, but he pressed on.

“The queen’s pawns are far too busy preparing for your grand debut to disturb you here. In fact, I imagine you could walk the entire half of this building without coming across a single soul.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. “You really expect me to let you leave me here? Again? ”

The smile he gave me looked far too tired. “I’m providing you with a moment to rest, to let your mind clear. Once I’m gone, the side effects of the power I shared with you will start to lessen. Take the time, princess. Once your thoughts have cleared, think about everything that’s happened.”

I blinked, startled by not only his sudden insistence on leaving me here but by the quiet anguish lurking in him that he couldn’t quite hide.

“Abyssal. I’m not staying here.”

“You should.”

“I won’t.”

He took a sharp breath. “Stay.” It was the closest thing to begging I’d ever heard from him. “Please. Claira. Princess. Stay .”

I shook my head. My answer wouldn’t change. “No.”

“Stay!” The command came with the edge of panic, his control slipping in the way his chest heaved.

Just like that, the mask he wore shattered before my eyes, revealing something far more fragile underneath. With nothing left to hide it, anger and desperation twisted the angles of his face.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” he shouted, shadows bending at his shoulders, but his fury was not aimed at me or even himself, but at everything in between us. “Because you know I cannot .”

I stared up at him, stunned into silence.

Stay , he said, but what he really meant was leave .

So that’s what this was. Maybe it always had been.

And suddenly, everything clicked into place. He’d taught me to become invisible. To teleport out of anyone’s reach.

Every time he’d changed his course to push me away, every soft gesture that was followed by a sudden chill. It had been him bracing for me to abandon him. He expected it. He was letting me.

“I won’t leave you.” The words slipped out before I even realized I’d decided, but once I said them, they felt undeniable. I couldn’t walk away, not after everything he’d done for me. I wouldn’t let him fix me just to leave him and return to my other mates.

“You must.” Two simple words filled with a sadness I couldn’t bear.

“Seriously, Abyssal, do you want to chase me that badly?” I laughed, but the sound was broken, thick with so much pain it felt more like a cry. “How could I possibly leave you behind?”

No, the Undersea still had me. For now, I was its princess, and I wouldn’t escape its cold grasp without first finding a way to free him from it, too.

He turned his face, his jaw tight and his breaths uneven. Magic smoke bled from the ends of his trident, but I grabbed onto him. I wouldn’t let him teleport.

“Don’t.” My grip on his arm trembled. “Don’t go. Not without me.”

The magic from his trident spilled to the floor like restless shadows as the weight of his silence pressed against my chest, suffocating me.

“Please,” I whispered, the word one simple, broken syllable.

His gaze remained fixed somewhere past me, anywhere but my eyes. “You’ll regret not leaving me,” he said at last, but it wasn’t a threat. It was as though he thought it was a sad certainty.

It wasn’t.

“And what about you?” I asked, gripping him tighter. “Would you regret letting me go?”

His jaw worked, the muscles flexing as though he were grinding down words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

I watched the struggle in him, the brief flickers of vulnerability as they surfaced like an old wound. It was as if he’d already tormented himself with the same question countless times before.

And in the silence, I found my answer—a fragile piece of his soul that I could carry with me, safely tucked away in one of my hearts.

“If you’re determined to stay with me,” he said finally, his voice heavy with resignation, “then I suppose we can take the royal way back to the Undersea.”