Chapter 28
Phoebe
Castletide
The entire ocean seems to move like a living thing, pushing Kael and me back towards the keep.
My limbs feel hollowed out and full at once—hollow from what I nearly lost, full with something fierce and mounting that has no name but his.
He moves with that quiet command he always has, every motion a claim, his whole being pulsing with possession and a need to care for me that makes my knees weak.
When we reach Castletide, he doesn’t slow. His merman body reduces, tentacles becoming legs once more.
A wave lifts us onto the dock, and he moves without skipping a beat. Simply carries me straight through the pearlescent halls, past lanterns that throw soft green light over his skin, until we reach our chambers.
“Kael—”
“Not yet,” he growls and walks us straight into the bathroom.
It smells of steam and crushed mint and something floral that reminds me of home.
He sets me down by the great tub and looks at me with an intensity that makes my breath stutter.
Without a word, he lays a hand on my shoulder, and the world blurs—his magic again, gentle this time.
My ruined clothes peel away in a warm shimmer.
I feel the wet fabric lift from my skin like a tide pulling back. He is already nude, I feel my mouth open as I take in his muscled form.
He’s perfect. Beautiful. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
And all those old doubts I used to have about myself, my body? They don’t even register.
“Never doubt yourself, Telya. Every inch of you is perfect. I adore every freckle and dimple. All of you, Telya. I cherish all of you.”
My breath catches. My gaze locked on him.
“But if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll fuck you on this sea stone floor. Hard. I won’t be able to be gentle. I can’t be right now. And all I want is to take care of you.”
I think he means it as some sort of admonishment.
But really, I feel fine if not a little shaken.
And more than a little interested—because really, the idea of fucking my fine as hell mate anywhere is enough to leave me wet and wanting.
Still, he is careful, reverent, as if even the cloth between us were sacred.
When he steps back, I watch him, every scar and curve made holy by the fight he’s just survived.
Then he moves back a step, entering the tub first, and the water rushes around him in a warm, glowing whirlpool that murmurs like the sea itself.
“Come,” he says, voice low.
There’s exhaustion and relief and something like prayer braided into it.
I take his hand, and he pulls me into the water.
Heat floods me—muscles unclench, aches soften, the chill of terror melts away.
He folds himself around me with a possessive gentleness that steadies my spinning mind.
His hands move over me not with haste but with care, lingering on shoulders, back, the small places where the world’s weight gathers.
He kisses my temple, my jaw, and each touch is an affirmation.
“Kael,” I whimper.
“You don’t have to talk now, Telya. I can just hold you. I-I can’t bear to think of a Nightfall without you,” he whispers into my hair. “Can’t imagine me without you, my viyella.”
The words are simple and raw and true.
They settle into me like sun.
I know he means it—the way his fingers press as if to make sure I’m real, the way his breath matches mine.
Yes, there are things to speak of later, debts to reckon, questions to answer.
But right now the world narrows to heat and salt and the press of him against me.
I tilt my face up and tell him what he needs to hear in return, “Kael, I need you.”
But my confession is less language than the way I melt into him, the way my hands find the lines of his back.
He hums—half laugh, half vow—and holds me like I am the only shore left in the storm.
For a long time we let the water wash over us, letting the whirlpool scrub the battle from our bones.
The keep sighs around us, safe and steady, and in that breath of quiet I feel the tether tighten.
Him to me, me to him, an unbreakable line that will be a map through whatever comes next.
The water curls around us, steam rising like mist on the tide, Kael’s arms locking me close as if he’ll never let me go.
His words echo in my bones.
Can’t imagine me without you, my viyella.
Something inside me breaks wide open.
The walls I’ve been holding, the doubts Amber tried to plant, even the regrets from a past I barely understand—all of it slips away.
What remains is raw, desperate, undeniable.
I tilt my face up and kiss him, not softly this time, but hungrily, recklessly, as though the ocean might swallow me whole if I stop.
He groans into my mouth, the sound low and reverent, and the whirlpool itself seems to shudder with us.
“I’m yours,” I whisper against his lips, water sliding between us. “Completely. No walls, no holding back.”
His eyes flare, storm-bright, and I see his own surrender there, fierce and beautiful.
“You mean that? You would take me as your viyen willingly?”
“My what?”
“It is the male counterpart for viyella. It means true mate in Nightfall,” he says, and I can see the hope shining in his stormy eyes.
“Oh yes, Kael. My viyen,” I whisper and feel his pride surge at the sound of the word spilling from my lips.
“Gods, I love you,” he groans and kisses me again, and this time there is no restraint.
His hands roam over my body with reverence and urgency, memorizing me as if he could carve my shape into his soul.
I cling to him, wanton with need, desperate to feel him in every way possible. My body aches for him, but it’s more than that—my heart, my very spirit, cries out for the bond to be sealed, for us to become what fate clearly intended.
“Kael,” I gasp, nails raking his shoulders. “Please—”
He cups my face, trident-calloused fingers gentle now.
“I got you. No more waiting. You are mine, Phoebe. My viyella. My love.”
The bond between us flares like lightning, magic sparking in the water around us.
Our lips crash together, and I feel his broad head pushing inside my needy slit.
He’s careful. Too careful.
“I need more. I want it all,” I beg.
“Fuck, viyella, you wreck me,” he grunts, lifting my waist and sitting me on what looks like a soft stone seat at just the right height.
He flexes his hips, pumping his long, hard length into me and it’s so hot, so good. Like he’s branding me from the inside out.
“So deep,” I moan as he lifts my hips, angling me where he wants me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, and I feel his tail mimic the same pose around mine, only the forked tip drifts down, and then he’s stroking my clit with it.
The leathery feel of the wicked appendage is so good, so perfect.
Then—holy shit—it vibrates against me, and Kael doesn’t stop fucking me. He thrusts deeper, harder, faster—and I detonate.
“Kael!”
“Such a good mate, Telya. I got you. That’s it. One more, give me one more,” he commands, and I-I can’t resist.
I rock into him with upward thrusts, trying to give as good as I get. I want to please him. To be pleasure for him. Like he is for me.
“You’re fucking perfect, Telya. I’ll never get enough of your hot little body, of your perfect loving heart.”
“Oh God, yes. I love you,” I confess unwittingly.
“I love you, viyella. Until the waters run dry, Phoebe. My love, my life,” he groans.
Power pulses between us, steady and constant as the tide.
Pleasure unlike any I’ve ever felt fills me, each time I think it’s over he pushes me to another height, another level.
And through it all I feel our bond—the zareth.
I feel it binding, weaving, fusing us together as he lowers me back into the steaming depths, his body pressing into mine, claiming and worshiping all at once.
The world narrows to him.
His mouth on mine, his whispered vows, the tidal rhythm of us moving together.
It is wild and desperate and so achingly tender I can hardly breathe.
And when the moment crests, it isn’t just consummation—it is creation.
A bond reforged, a promise sealed, a love so bright it drives away every shadow.
I open myself fully, body and soul, letting him in.
And Kael is everywhere.
Around me. Within me. Of me.
I don’t just love him—I belong to him.
The water swirls faster, glowing faintly as our cries mingle with a storm’s hush.
The magic settles, threading through my veins like silver fire, binding us in a way no vow, no crown, no priestess’ blessing ever could.
At last, when the whirlpool calms and we lie tangled in each other’s arms, I know the truth with bone-deep certainty.
Kael is mine, and I am his. Forever.