Page 180 of Cruel Tides

His hand gently lifted my chin, tilting it upward, and that smirk of his remained. “I said it would keep outunwantedguests,” he murmured, his face dangerously close to mine. “So, princess, I suppose that’s for you to decide.”

41

Abyssal

Teach her to read? To use magic? Evidently, I’d lost my mind.

I pressed my head against the rocks outside the princess’s chamber and sighed deeply. So, she thought I was prickly. Ha…

Those derisively sweet lips of hers would be the death of me, but I couldn’t let my desires get in the way of my mission.

This… feeling I had. It was something she would never reciprocate.

That thought burned in my mind as I forcibly tore myself away from the wall.

With my duty to the crown momentarily fulfilled, it was time to turn my attention to my own plans.

My little captive had fallen into the vile queen’s trap far quicker than expected, leaving me with precious little time to prepare. Nevertheless, I’d make do.

“Aracos,”my mind called out. It had been a while since I’d last sensed him, having sent him away before taking the princess into my bedchamber.

His answer was swift.“Master.”

Good—he was still awake.“Keep watch over the royal hallway. One eye on the crown, the other on the princess. Inform me of any movement.”

“Aracos will be your eyes, Master.”

Of course, I didn’t expect either of them to make a move. The queen, too occupied with her own pleasures, likely had no intention of leaving her throne. As for our princess, she was safely tucked away in her cage. I’d already made sure the spell I’d given her was sitting in the doorway, preventing her from being disturbed.

“Keep safe. Keep hidden,”I reminded, then felt the pull of Aracos draining more of my magic. His interference when one of the queen’s pawns slunk into the princess’s chamber was commendable, but it had been close. Too close.

Puppet strings be damned, I’d tear the entire Undersea apart, reducing it to mere rubble and silt if any harm ever came to my familiar.

I teleported to my desk and gathered the necessary materials before visualizing my destination—a certain merman-infested bungalow perched atop a calm lagoon.

However, upon opening my eyes, I found myself bobbing over a tumultuous sea. Forked lightning bolts splintered the brooding sky, and thunder rumbled ominously as if delivering a foreboding message intended solely for me.

How utterly delightful.

Squinting against the stinging wind, I took stock of the shore. The waves knocked against my tentacles, but I plowed through the surging current. The source of this chaos had to be close.

And there he was, the spitting image of the god of storms himself. His burnished gold hair whipped against the fierce wind carrying sand all around him, his eyes pinched shut.

And although he appeared to be taking in long, measured breaths, the air crackled with his fury.

Interesting. He’d probably been out searching for her this entire time.

“Leander Asphaleius,” I called out, my voice bellowing across the frothing sea.

The cyclone swelled around him, and one of his eyes popped open, his gaze spearing me where I stood atop the waves.

Yes—see me and know I’m the source of all your torment.

“We meet again,” I continued, a smirk curling my lips as his shoulders squared in my direction. “You appear to have gained an inch or two since the last time I had the pleasure of basking in the presence of the great heir to the Atlantic.”

“So, you know who I am,” he growled, anger rippling through his voice like an electric surge. He was a feral creature, all right. Cloaked in sand and poised to rip me apart.

“And what name shall I pass on to your brethren,” he forced through increasingly erratic breaths, “when they come to find what little remains of your corpse, dark spawn?”

---