Chapter 11
Phoebe
The Lord of Water’s Bedchamber at Castletide
I have no idea how I got here.
One second, I was a woman feeding a sea lion at the Jersey Shore Aquarium.
The next, I was being dragged through a whirlpool by a horned stranger with storm-colored eyes who calls himself Lord of Water.
Since then? Whiplash.
One moment he’s a kidnapper.
The next, an ardent lover with kisses that melt my spine.
Then, he’s teasing me in the kitchens like some ridiculous lunch date.
Next, he’s demanding I swear some oath—essentially marrying him.
And now—now I’m standing in his bedchamber, dressed in the most elaborate gown I’ve ever worn, with the echo of vows still vibrating in my bones.
My heart should be breaking from confusion, from anger, from everything I don’t know yet.
Instead, my pulse is galloping, because the minute the ceremony ended, Kael’s eyes were on me like I was already in his arms—naked.
And the truth? I don’t feel strong enough to resist.
My brain is screaming slow down, you don’t know him, you don’t know this world, you don’t even know if he’s safe.
But my body? My heart?
They’re whispering something a lot simpler.
To hell with it. Take the chance. Go for it.
We don’t walk so much as glide—he with his impossible authority, me caught in the undertow of his presence—until we reach his chambers.
“Kael—” I begin, not knowing what to say—beg him to be gentle or plead with him to take me however he wants to.
“Come, Telya. Come with me. Let me make you feel good,” he says, and whoosh, it’s like my entire body just primes itself for him.
And I know he can sense it. Because across his face? Victory.
But no teasing. He’s serious as a heart attack, and I’m grateful because this might be the most serious thing I’ve ever done.
“I know you’ll make me feel good, but what about after?” I whisper, unable to help myself.
“After? Afterwards, I’ll keep making you feel good, Telya. Count on it.”
I nod—no longer able to deny myself. And I swear he sees the exact moment I decide to let him in because his eyes glow and his chest rumbles like the ocean crashing against the shore.
With a wave of his hand, the heavy doors seal shut.
Another flick, and the silk-and-pearl gown I’ve been trussed up in dissolves into nothing.
Literally nothing.
I gasp, arms flying to cover myself, but Kael is already there, hands closing around my wrists, pulling them gently down.
“Never hide from me, Telya,” he murmurs.
His voice is low tide, dragging me under.
The air crackles, warmer, scented with salt and steam.
Another flick of magic—holy fuck—he’s naked now, too.
The wall behind him slides open to reveal a room that looks carved out of the ocean itself.
Marble veined like seashells.
Candles hovering in midair.
And in the center, an enormous sunken whirlpool tub, the water swirling as though it already knows what’s about to happen.
I should run.
I should fight.
Instead, my skin prickles with heat as he takes my wrist.
My mouth is watering. I mean, Kael looks like something from one of my deepest, darkest fantasy brought to life.
He is all hard muscle with a swimmer’s long torso and wide shoulders, lean hips, and powerful legs.
Plus, horns, a tail, and a face carved by the angels themselves.
Shit. I can feel my arousal dripping down my thighs.
And he must somehow know it because I swear he breathes deep and let’s a deep growling sound slip past his lips as he leads me down the steps and into the steaming water.
The moment the heat licks my thighs, his hands are on me—one spanning my lower back, the other cupping my breast.
His mouth finds mine, claiming, desperate, and the whirlpool surges around us in time with my heartbeat.
When his tongue slides against mine, I whimper, clinging to his broad shoulders.
The runes etched into his chest glow faintly under the water, brushing my skin with a tingle that makes me shiver.
“Kael,” I breathe, my voice breaking somewhere between plea and warning.
“Phoebe.”
My name is reverence and hunger all at once.
“Mine.”
He lifts me with inhuman ease, settling me astride his lap, my slick folds pressed against the rigid length of his cock.
Even through the water, the sensation is raw, scorching.
My body jerks, needy, even as my brain screams wait.
But Kael isn’t waiting.
He palms my ass, grinding me against him, coaxing shameless moans from my throat.
The water splashes against marble, the candles gutter with the force of it, and still he moves me, hips locked against mine like we’re already one.
When I can’t take another second, I whisper, “Please.”
And he takes.
He presses into me slowly, achingly, filling me inch by inch until I’m stretched around him, trembling, gasping.
The sting is brief, swallowed by the incredible fullness of him.
His forehead rests against mine, his breath ragged.
I feel pressure around my waist, and I look to see his tail, long and forked, is wrapped around me, holding me close.
“You feel so fucking perfect, Telya,” he growls, and it’s like he can’t believe it either. “Like you were made for me. For this.”
The whirlpool roars as he begins to thrust, deep and powerful, the water rising like a tide to match his rhythm.
My nails rake down his back, my body caught between pain and ecstasy, and all I can do is hold on.
“Kael,” I gasp, every syllable torn apart by his pace.
He kisses me like he’s drowning, like he needs me to breathe.
I’m reminded of the whirlpool when I kissed him for oxygen.
His hand tangles in my wet hair, yanking my head back just enough to expose my throat.
He licks down my neck and shoulder to my breast, sucking the tip into his hot mouth.
And his hips? They never stop moving.
“Oh God, I’m close,” I tell him breathlessly, clutching at his shoulders.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” he groans, licking his way back to that space where my neck and shoulder meet.
The water around us swirls and rises, lifting me, holding me in place it seems.
And then—sharp heat starts at the base of my throat.
His fangs pierce my skin.
I cry out, but it’s not fear that rips through me—it’s a lightning bolt.
Pure, hot, unbearable pleasure is flooding every nerve.
My orgasm tears through me so hard I convulse against him, clenching around his cock as he drives into me with a snarl.
The bond ignites.
I feel it.
Whatever magic this is—what did he call it?
The zareth.
That’s what this must be.
It’s flooding me, filling me, snapping into place.
His power is pouring into my body, and fuck, I feel my soul answering his.
“Come for me, Telya! Let go. Mine,” Kael growls against my bleeding skin, still moving inside me, relentless.
“Yes,” I whisper, lost, undone, claimed.
And as the whirlpool crests and crashes around us, I know the truth I didn’t want to admit.
I may have been taken from my world, but here, in Kael’s arms, I’m not lost.
I’m found.