Page 94 of Queen of Tempests and Sin

The omission gnawed at me, sharp as broken glass. Was it because gods didn’t love the way mortals did? Or because admitting it would make it real, binding him to something even eternity couldn’t escape?

I pressed my palm to the cool glass wall, staring at the endless blue beyond, trying to steady my breath. Everything he’d done screamed of devotion, of something deeper than possession. I swallowed the golf ball-sized lump in my throat as clarity hit me. His riptides could drag me out to sea and drown me, and I didn’t care.

Sephy was so right… I loved the brooding sea god with every fibre of my being.

Gods… I was in so much trouble.

CHAPTER 32

POSEIDON

Cordelia had gone to the library an hour ago. Something about her felt… off, though she claimed she just needed space to breathe, time to unwind, and I let her go.

Minos stormed into my study, eyes dark with the fury of an ancient beast roused from slumber, a wrath that carried the weight of centuries. The air itself seemed to recoil, pressure thickening like the deep sea pressing in. Power stirred in my veins in answer, salt and storm rising sharp and restless, ready to meet whatever tempest he brought with him.

‘The mermen picked up a factory ship, ten miles out. Looks like someone decided your ban doesn’t apply to them,’ Minos reported.

Fury surged through me, cold and sharp as a tidal surge. My jaw clenched, every word heavy with the memory of oceans scarred. Vessels like that nearly broke my seas. Ninety percent of the great fish were slaughtered before we regained control—whole ecosystems collapsed—reefs turned to graveyards, currents ran empty, life bled from the depths. My power stirred restlessly, the water itself seeming to shudder with my rage.

There was a knock on the door, and Cordelia stepped inside. The storm I’d been holding back stilled for half a breath at the sight of her. Her eyes flicked from me to Minos, catching the tension crackling in the room, and worry flashed across her face.

‘What is it?’ she asked, voice tight, as if she already knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. ‘A factory ship. Ten miles from here. They’ve broken my ban.’

Her brows pinched, fear and anger mingling in her gaze. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘What I must.’ My voice came out harsher than I intended. I softened it. ‘I have to deal with this. It won’t be pretty.’

She took a step closer, chin lifting, eyes steady on mine. ‘Then I’m coming with you.’

‘No.’ The word lashed out, sharper than I intended—raw instinct. Fear gripped me, cold and merciless. I couldn’t let her walk into danger, not when the thought of losing her hollowed me out more than any battle ever had.

‘This isn’t for you. It’s dangerous, brutal⁠—’

‘And you think I can’t handle it?’ she cut in, fire sparking in her tone. ‘I’ve faced worse. Don’t shut me out.’

For a heartbeat, silence pressed heavy between us. Then, from the corner of my vision, I caught Minos studying her. The hard lines of his face eased, just slightly, and a twitch of something—almost a smile—pulled at his lips. Respect.

I clenched my fists, torn between rage at the ship, fear for her safety, and the fierce pride burning in her voice. She was brave. How she was brave.

My shoulders sagged as I met her gaze. ‘If you come, you stay at my side. No straying. No arguments.’

Her lips curved in that stubborn half-smile I knew too well. ‘Deal.’

And just like that, the storm inside me shifted—not calmed, not diminished—but focused.

We didn’t waste time. Cordelia and I ran to our chamber, shedding clothes in a hurry. I pulled on swim trunks—practical and easy. She reached for the garment I’d given her: a thin, second-skin fabric that shimmered faintly in the light. On land it clung to her like silk, soft and weightless, but beneath the water it would harden into enchanted armour, letting her move with speed and protection no mortal gear could offer. She tugged it over her bikini with a muttered curse, then shot me a look.

‘So you get away with swim trunks, and I’m here wrestling magical spandex?’ she huffed, tugging the fabric over her shoulder.

My mouth curved despite the urgency, my pulse thundering with fury at the trespass, but beneath it, fear coiled tight—for her.

Her hair pulled back, eyes blazing with that same reckless fire I both hated and craved, I seized her hand. ‘Stay close,’ I warned, voice low, rough.

She squeezed once, fearless as ever. ‘Always.’

I summoned the sea. The world bent, folded, and when it opened again, we stood suspended in her endless blue. The ocean pressed around us, vast and crushing, but I wrapped us in a bubble of air, the currents sliding off it like silk. She gasped, testing the air, wide-eyed at the weight of water pressing against our fragile sphere. I didn’t need it, but she did.