Page 37 of Claimed By the Deep
"He framed it as love and concern, but it was control wearing care's mask. He wanted to remake me into his ideal partner—someone who avoided risks and depended on him completely." I meet his gaze. "By the time I realized what was happening, I'd lost parts of myself I hadn't known could be taken."
"And when I offered to solve your problems with treasure—"
"It echoed Thomas. Someone claiming to love me while trying to fix parts of my life that aren't broken, just complicated." I squeeze his hand. "Your intentions are different, but the pattern triggered old defenses."
He's quiet for a moment. "In my culture, providing for one's mate is the highest devotion. The stronger ensures the weaker never struggles unnecessarily." His gaze lifts to mine. "But I'm beginning to understand humans interpret this differently."
"I need to be your equal, not your responsibility. I need to know you value who I am, not just what you can do for me."
"I do value who you are. Your courage, your determination." His fingers touch my cheek with butterfly delicacy. "But those qualities serve no purpose spent on unnecessary hardship."
"The struggle isn't unnecessary. It's been my identity for twenty years." I lean forward. "If you take that away, what remains of me?"
"Everything that matters," he says. "Your kindness. Your curiosity. The way you found beauty where others would see only monstrousness. Your capacity for love that ignores biological impossibility."
I slide into the water, needing closeness that words can't bridge. His appendages embrace me instantly.
"I've been thinking too," he says. "About what partnership means across our cultures. About honoring your independence while satisfying my instinct to provide."
"What conclusion did you reach?"
"That middle ground exists. What if we worked together? We could dive as partners—you with your human knowledge, me with abilities to reach places you can't." Excitement transforms his features. "I know locations beyond your diving range but outside protected waters. We could share both work and rewards."
"A salvage partnership?" The concept ignites something I hadn't felt in years—possibility. "True partners. Equal contributors, each bringing what the other lacks."
"Exactly. It solves your financial concerns without stealing your independence. You'd still work, still use your skills, just with advantages other salvagers can't access."
"I love this idea." I wrap my arms around his neck. "But what would you want in return?"
"That you accept my protection from genuine threats, even when it feels unnecessary. And that you never risk your life simply to prove you can handle something alone."
"Reasonable terms for diving partners." I press my lips to his. "I'm sorry I disappeared for three days."
"I'm sorry I tried to solve problems you value solving yourself."
"So we're okay?"
His smile builds slowly. "We're learning. That's better than okay."
I kiss him then, saying with touch what words can't adequately express. When we part, I rest my forehead against his. "I'll always come back to you. Through disagreements, through the maze of making this impossible relationship work."
"Is that a promise?" The question carries weight beyond its simple phrasing.
"Yes." I seal the word with another kiss. "Now, show me how much you missed me."
His eyes flash with something ancient and hungry. The water heats around us as his control slips. "Finally."
He hauls me deeper into the cove, to a half-submerged stone ledge. His tentacles grip my waist, lifting me onto the sun-warmed rock like I weigh nothing. Water sloshes around my thighs.
"Three days," he growls, yanking at my soaked clothes while two smaller tentacles slide under my shirt, cold and demanding against my skin. "Three fucking days thinking I'd lost you."
"Then take me," I challenge, arching into his touch. "Stop thinking and take what you need."
His nostrils flare as he scents my arousal. He tears my shirt, literally tears it open, tentacles ripping at my remaining clothes until I'm naked and panting on the rock.
"I missed this," he hisses, gaze raking over me like physical touch. "Missed you."
The stone scrapes my back but I couldn't care less. His larger tentacles brace behind me while smaller ones grip my thighs, spreading them wide. No teasing, no gentle exploration—just raw need after days of separation.
