Captive of the Deep (10 page)

Lyra gasped, jerking to awareness. She awoke feeling as if her body had been trampled by horses, drowned, and then ran over by the bottom of a wooden ship. The hard surface beneath her back sent hot jobs of pain through her calves and lower back. Her temple throbbed and she moaned weakly. The sound caused her body to come to an abrupt halt. That’s when she realized she’d been moving.

Blinking heavily through a bright light, she lifted a shaky hand and held it over her eyes. A figure moved, slowly coming into focus. Rigel.

He was dressed in a tunic. It fell to his upper thighs, showing his naked legs. His arms and one shoulder were also bare. Her heart quickened slightly, as her eyes roamed the strong muscles of upper body. Despite the ache in her body, her sex drive kicked in. Her pussy throbbed with need as moisture gathered between her thighs. She was starved for him.

“We’ll be to my country home soon,” he said. “Do you think you can walk?”

Lyra tried to push up but her arms trembled and she fell back.

“Stay there.” Rigel turned from her and lifted two curved handles over his shoulders. Her body shifted as he pulled the cart she was in forward. He began to jog, taking her over an uneven path. They moved up an incline. Sweat beaded on his back, adhering the material of his tunic to his flesh.

It took a moment, but she finally focused her attention past his body to the surrounding countryside. The peaks of mountains framed him completely. Above her, she noticed the top dome of the underwater city was much closer. She could see the outline of large fish as they swam by. It still wasn’t close enough to touch, but the sight made her new life all the more real—if she’d needed the reminder.

The path straightened and leveled and his pace slowed. Trees replaced the mountains, leading toward a sprawling stone house. Romanesque columns held up the roof over a long portico. She reached for the sides of the cart and pulled herself up. The lawn was trimmed and the house well maintained.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“This is my country home in the borderland,” Rigel answered. “I thought it best to bring you here to…”

She frowned at his hesitation. “To?”

“To recover from your incident,” he said.

“My incident?” And then she remembered. The transparent man had exploded into a puddle, sending her into the nightmarish world she’d been trapped in. She reached for her head, feeling for a hard knot where she bumped it. There wasn’t one. “How long have I been out?”

“A week.” Rigel again looked uncomfortable and she knew he must want to ask her about what she’d been doing. He didn’t and she didn’t offer up any confessions.
 
“Here. I will help you inside. I sent word ahead to have the rooms prepared. It has been awhile since I have been here, but the bedding should be fresh and there should be food left in the kitchen.”

Rigel reached into the cart to lift her up. The sweat on his skin told of his long excursion carting her there. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as she moved to look the way they came. There was no sign of the palace or the city, but instead a mountain valley. She knew she could have probably walked if she really wanted to, but he already offered and her body was violently sore.

“Have I been ill?” she asked.

“Very,” he answered. “Althea the Healer tended to you the best she could and we thought it best to let you sleep through the worst of it. Are you feeling better?”

“Better than what?” she mumbled. “Apparently I’ve been asleep.”

He stopped walking.

“Yes,” she answered louder than she needed to. With her head resting near his shoulder he could hear her just fine. “I feel better. Thank you.”

Columns reached up both sides, supporting the roof as it shaded the portico. Rigel fumbled to opened the door. The house was unlocked and he carried her inside.

The front door led to a small entryway. Beyond that was a large atrium with marble walls and floors. Aside from a few benches, the atrium was barren. A hole was formed in the ceiling, letting fresh air into the house. Seeing a pool beneath the hole, she guessed it let in rainwater as well.

“You should be comfortable here,” Rigel said. “You are free to go where you will.”

He carried her past an indoor garden with stone paths and very neglected, overgrown plants. Reaching a wide door, he walked her through it and brought her to a bed. Rigel set her on top of the covers. Instantly, her body sank into the comfortable bedding. She sighed in pleasure.

“I will get you food,” he said as he left her.

Lyra nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. Stretching, she rolled on her side and closed her eyes.

* * * * *

Rigel heard Lyra’s soft breathing and knew she slept. Closing the bedroom door to leave her in peace, he walked back toward the kitchen to put down the tray of food he had made for her. Just as he was about to leave, he changed his mind and grabbed the plate and carried it outside with him.

Setting it down on the tall, cylinder offering stone, he said a quick prayer. It has been a long time since he’d done such a thing. At first when they’d come down, he prayed for the country to return to the surface. Then, he prayed for Nemus to come back whole. Now, he prayed that Lyra would return the love he felt for her. It was not lost on him that the first two prayers had gone mostly unanswered. Nemus was dead, though he did see him again. They were underwater, though he did get to see the surface from beneath the waves as a hunter. Though, come to think of it, Lyra did not seem to be warming to the idea of being with him for an eternity, though she allowed him in her bed. Perhaps he needed to be more specific in his requests to the gods. Or, perhaps it was time to stop the foolish dreams.

* * * * *

Lyra’s stomach growled so loud it awoke her from her sleep. She blinked as she pushed up from the comfortable bed to find Rigel sitting on the mattress next to her. He held a plate of food on his lap and a piece of fruit in his hand. At her attention, he gestured to the food for her to take some. Not needing to be asked twice, she reached for a large piece of fish and quickly pushed the morsel into her mouth.

Moaning softly as she ate, she closed her eyes. “I feel like I haven’t eaten for a year.” She was reaching for more before she’d even swallowed the first bite. Rigel placed the plate closer to her and watched her as she ate every bit of it.

When she’d finished, he said, “I was worried about you. Althea assured me you would heal, but I was concerned when you did not wake up.”

“Is that man dead?” she asked.

“It was not a man. He was called a scylla.” Rigel frowned. “You should not have taken him from his cell.”

“I couldn’t have left him there. He was dying.” Lyra stretched her arms over her head, still a little sleepy despite her overlong nap.

“The king was not pleased with your interference. We work hard to ensure the scylla are pulled from the ocean. If you would have succeeded in your foolish mission, we might have spent the next hundred years trying to track him again.”

“I’m not worried about the king,” she said absently. “Men don’t scare me. I can talk myself out of the trouble easily enough.”

“He is very angry at the stunt.”

“The king will get over it,” Lyra said, not sure what was making her so confident of the fact. “Especially when I tell him about the spell I was under. The second I touched that creature, I felt him. I felt bad for him. I felt his emptiness. He was lost and scared and I was trying to help him. He wanted to go to the ocean and his desire to be free filled me.”

“But—”

“And you will protect me,” she said, smiling. Lyra decided it was best not to tell him what she thought before going to rescue the scylla from his prison. He didn’t need to know about her unfounded suspicions or her half-baked mental accusations. “You have to. I’m you ward.”

“Yes, but he is the king.”

Lyra smiled at that, letting her lashes drop. “Are you saying you would choose him over me?” She let her hand slide forward onto his chest. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so tired. She liked the way his breath caught and his heart quickened. He always responded to her and the fact made her want him more. Her lips parted as she leaned closer to his face. “Who would you choose?”

“I would choose you,” he said without hesitation, leaning forward to close the distance between their mouths. His kiss was deep and instantly passionate. His tongue slipped along the seam of her lips, parting them. She opened naturally to him, not even thinking to resist. His familiar taste urged her body to inch closer.

Rigel’s hands massaged their way up her back in small circles. She moaned at the relaxing pleasure of his touch.
 

“Then I accept,” she breathed, not looking at him.

“Accept?” He paused in his kiss.

“Take me,” she said. Being with him felt right.

Soon hands found flesh, peeling back all obstacles as they came together. He captured her nipple, suctioning his mouth to her breast. His tongue twirled around the erect tip in small, agonizing circles. Lyra moaned. She ran her hands into his hair as her body worked restlessly against him. Her fingernails scraped lightly at his scalp before moving down to his shoulder.

His mouth traveled down her body, sprinkling light kisses over her flesh. He maneuvered his body over hers, sliding between her parting legs. Rigel braced her thighs with his hands, holding them open. Slowly he drew his mouth to her sex, teasing it with his breath and brushing kisses.

She thrust her hips up, urging him to hurry. He didn’t hurry, instead taking his time. His hands moved around to cup her ass. Lyra jerked, moaning softly and the pleasure. After what seemed like an eternity, his mouth closed over her sex. She cried out as his tongue twirled over her clit. His fingers ventured along the soft folds of her pussy, parting them as they thrust inside.

“Come here,” she demanded, pulling up on his arms.

He braced his weight on his hands, pressing his body along hers. His heat warmed her, filling her with tingling promise. The taste of her desire was on his lips as he kissed her once more. The full extent of his passion skimmed her thigh as he drew his hips forward. She met him eagerly. The first press of hot flesh penetrating her body caused her to stiffen in anticipation.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, yes…”

He thrust, his body filling her, stretching her. They were instantly caught up in a frenzied rhythm. Every second became a sensation, a pleasure. Every brush of flesh became an eternity within a moment. When she came, Lyra cried out, the sound of her voice mingling with his. This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

This was perfection.

Every time she closed her eyes the coldness was waiting for her. It consumed her, called to her, made her want to drift and be a part of it even as her soul ached to go home. She tried to fight it, but the current was too strong, too endless. There was no end to it, no hope, no one to talk to. She sensed life beyond the darkness, but it stayed just beyond her reach. And then there was a tinge of hope. She felt vibrations in the darkness, a sign of life coming from above. She reached for it, moved for it, tried to grab on to it.

Her body crashed into a hard surface, but instead of grabbing hold it slid past her. She aimed for it again, and again she crashed and slipped. The vibrations grew stronger, spreading out around her. She reached for it again and again and again, but it was hopeless. The more she tried to connect, the more impossible it became until the vibrations stopped and she was left feeling worse than before.

Lyra gasped, pushing up on the bed. The remnants of sleep haunted her and for a moment she didn’t know where she was. A warm hand caressed her thigh and instantly the coldness left her.

“You kick in your sleep,” Rigel said.

She was glad he was there. Without thought, she snuggled into his warmth. “I keep dreaming that I’m trapped in darkness. Like when we dived down, only I’m alone and at the whim of the currents until I feel a vibration.” She gave a small yawn. “I kept hitting my body into something hard, trying to grab hold, but I couldn’t seem to get it.”

“Nemus,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked, not understanding.

“I have heard that when the scylla die, they can imprint part of their memories onto the person they touch. It is why they are locked in a cell for those final moments. The burden of their restless spirit is hard to live with.” Rigel’s hand tightened on her leg. “I am sorry, but I think you have been imprinted with the scylla’s memories.”

“Scylla?” Lyra pushed up. “That creature was a… He asked me to take him to the ocean. If I would have gotten him to the water.” She covered her mouth in horror. “That thing killed my family?”

“There are many scylla, but yes, that was the one who killed your family.” Rigel’s fingers brushed over her as he reached for her, but she moved out of his grasp.

“You called him Nemus.” Lyra reached to feel for Rigel’s face in the darkness. “You know him by name?”