Page 16 of Claimed By the Deep
"Yes. I've been entering your sleeping mind, sharing visions with you. I know it was a violation, but I was so lonely, and your dreams welcomed me."
"How long have you been alone?"
The question opens wounds I've spent decades learning to ignore. "Nearly a century. My ship crashed here in the early 1900s. I'm the only survivor."
Her expression softens with sympathy that makes my chest ache. "Your ship?"
"I'm not from this world. My people sent me here to make peaceful contact with yours, but the mission failed catastrophically. My vessel was destroyed, my crew killed, my technology scattered across the ocean floor."
I watch her process this information, see her quick mind working through the implications. But instead of backing away from the impossibility of it, she leans forward with genuine curiosity.
"What are your people like?"
"We're called the Agual. We come from a world that's mostly ocean, deeper and colder than yours. We're... explorers, I suppose you could say. Ambassadors to other water-bearing worlds."
"And you've been stranded here ever since."
"Yes. Unable to return home, unable to make the contact I was sent to establish." The words carry all the grief and failure I've carried for decades. "Until you."
Her pulse quickens—I can sense it through the water, smell the change in her scent. "What do you mean?"
"You're the first human who's seen me and not fled in terror. The first who's touched my mind in dreams and welcomed the contact. The first who makes me think that perhaps my mission wasn't a complete failure."
My tentacle drifts closer to her dangling feet, and I see the exact moment she notices. Her breath catches, but she doesn'tpull away. Instead, she reaches down, extending her hand toward me.
The choice is hers. As it should be.
Her fingers brush against my appendage, and the contact sends electricity through every nerve I possess. Her skin is warm and soft, alien in the best possible way. I curl gently around her hand, not restraining but exploring, marveling at the reality of willing human touch.
"I've imagined this," she admits, color rising in her cheeks. "In the dreams. But this is... this is so much more real."
"The dreams were shadows compared to actual touch." My voice is rougher now, charged with desire I've suppressed for too long. "Would you like to experience those dreams in real life?"
Her breath catches, and I can smell the change in her scent—arousal mixing with anticipation. "What are you asking?"
"I'm asking if you want to feel what you felt in the dreams. Here. Now. With full awareness of what's happening."
Her pupils dilate at my words, and she leans forward slightly, drawn by the same magnetic pull I've been fighting all day.
"Yes," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of approaching thunder.
Thunder rumbles overhead as the storm finally arrives, but here in our sheltered cove, it feels like nature itself is blessing this moment. The first drops of rain begin to fall, warm and gentle, as she reaches toward me with decision clear in her expression.
"Then show me," she says softly. "Show me what the dreams were trying to tell me."
Meridian
EIGHT
Logic insists I should be terrified. Every rational part of my brain screams that this is impossible. I'm floating in a cove with a creature that shouldn't exist, contemplating things that would have been pure fantasy twelve hours ago.
Yet when Cyreus moves closer, water rippling around his powerful form, fear is the furthest thing from my mind. All I feel is desire.
Twilight softens the cove, letting me see him more clearly than during his first transformation. His upper body maintains the human features I've grown hungry for—the strong jaw, those deep blue eyes that seem to look straight through me, the lean muscle of his chest. Below his waist, though, he's magnificent in ways that defy human description.
Tentacles emerge in varying sizes—some thick enough to wrap entirely around my waist with strength that could easily break me, others more delicate, designed for precision. His skin gleams deep red with burgundy undertones. Every inch of himseems alive with awareness, responding to both the water and to my gaze.
He's massive compared to me, yet there's nothing frightening about it. He moves with a fluid grace that makes every gesture seem intentional, controlled. Beautiful in ways I have no words for.
