Chapter 3
I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s impossible to tell how much of the feeling is mine versus what’s coming through from my mates.
Caspian’s side of the bond is steady, resolved.
We’re both of one mind. The queen wants Caspian to marry Princess Farrasea—or whatever her name is—which means she won’t kill me.
If she did, she’d risk Caspian falling prey to bonding sickness, an illness not everyone survives.
I’m more useful to her alive. She can use me as leverage to get my mate to do her bidding, which means we’re safe. Sort of. For now.
We just have to go along with this until we can escape.
And we will. It’s only a matter of time.
That’s what really worries me, because Hunter’s side of the bond is already erratic, full of terror and helplessness.
How long before he’s completely overcome by bonding sickness?
My heart and body ache to be close and reassure him.
Our bond is so new it feels almost raw. And so far away.
Every second takes us further from my newest mate, and it feels like I’m being torn in two. Hunter’s panic is like a hammer hitting an anvil, a fist pounding against a brick wall.
But there’s nothing I can do about it.
The merfolk rip through the ocean at a speed that makes my ears pop. I wonder how fast we’re going. Forty miles an hour? Fifty? Whatever it is, it’s an ungodly speed. I have to close my eyes to keep out the sharp sting of the water.
When we finally slow down, I blink rapidly and try to take in my surroundings.
There’s a merman on either side of me, clutching my arms so tight I’ll have bruises.
Ahead of me, Caspian is held the same way, next to his mother, the queen.
She’s a formidable force. She swims confidently forward, never looking back at her entourage.
Her pinkish purple hair floats ethereally around her, dancing with the unseen current, though it’s hard to make out the finer details this far down.
Not much sun reaches here, resulting in an unsettling milieu caught somewhere between dusk and deep night.
Caspian yells at her in that strange language of his I can’t understand. His tail flicks forward and flattens, as if he’s trying to slow himself down and create more drag as the queen’s guards tug him forward.
His mother ignores him, pulling ahead.
For some reason, my lungs aren’t burning yet. They should be. My eyes don’t sting from the water either, now that we’re not moving as quickly. I don’t think it was the salt that was hurting them before, just the force from the speed.
I search the sea floor for anything that could help us. A weapon or something. But all I see is sand and the occasional fish. We’re moving deeper, the light getting thinner. The merfolk close in, making tighter ranks around the queen. What’s a group of merfolk called, anyway? A pod? A school?
As we get farther from the sunlight, some of their scales start to glow. I shouldn’t be able to survive at this depth. The pressure should crush me, right? I guess I’ve never researched free diving that much. Maybe this is normal, or maybe we’re not as deep as I think.
My head feels fuzzy. My lungs finally ache from the need to breathe. I was starting to think I might be okay, that bonding with Caspian might have made me able to withstand the sea, but I was wrong.
Just as black spots appear at the edges of my vision, Caspian is in front of me, somehow free of his captors. My guards still hold tight to my arms as he grabs my face and slots his lips to mine, breathing fresh air into my lungs. My head stops spinning. I blink.
“It will be alright, starfish,” he says in my language, the words warbling under the water. His own language sounds more natural down here than mine.
I want to say something back, but I know opening my mouth underwater is a terrible idea.
I’m not like Caspian. The sea isn’t my natural habitat.
How will things ever work between us when we can’t be a part of each other’s worlds without negative consequences?
He dries out after a few days on land. I somehow last longer than I used to underwater, but it’s still not enough time.
I nod back at Caspian, since that’s all I can do, and send him a wave of love and care through the bond.
He returns the same back to me. It’s mixed with a heavy serving of guilt and regret that I don’t think he intended me to pick up on.
I cup his face in my hands and kiss him again, pulling in air, but also trying to wordlessly let him know I don’t blame him for any of this.
The queen says something in her language, a series of clicks and sounds I don’t understand, and Caspian draws back. His guards don’t grab him again, but they keep their hold on me as we resume traveling through the depths.
Already exhausted from a long day discovering the lost city of Ocearus, I struggle to stay awake. My eyes droop, head bobbing, but I dig my nails into my palm, using the pain to keep me alert. I can’t let myself fall asleep underwater.
The group suddenly breaks into two, my guards dragging me away from Caspian and the queen.
I scream, and then immediately regret it.
Water pours into my lungs. Caspian fights his way to me, sucking water from my mouth and filling my lungs with fresh air.
I think I’m crying, but it’s hard to tell under the water.
When he pulls back, he tenderly kisses my forehead.
“They’re taking you to a grotto nearby,” he says slowly enough that I can understand him underwater. “There will be air for you there.” He glances back at his mother. “I can’t come, but I’ll see you soon. She won’t risk bonding sickness, but I have to… go with her now.”
I nod, understanding that it’s just as I thought. The queen will use me as leverage for her own purposes.
Well, she can try.