Captive of the Deep by Michelle M. Pillow Page A

excursion. Her legs shook. The man’s wet body soaked into her gown, making him harder to hold onto. “Hold on.”
    As she took a step, suddenly the burden lightened as water flooded over her entire body. The man dissipated with a giant splash. The sudden change tipped Lyra off-balance and she fell forward. Her hands hit the ground hard. For a moment, she stood, wet and shivering as she realized what had happened. The man was gone, spilled into a puddle on the floor, draining behind her down the hall. Seeing a hard block of ice on the floor, she automatically reached for it. His heart, maybe? The tips of her fingers touched the chilled rock.
    Lyra’s feet slipped again. She lost her balance and fell. Her arms flailed as she tried to stop her fall. The angle of her body was too awkward and she banged her head on the ground. For a moment, she was completely aware, but then it was as if a light was turned off and her mind faded into nothingness.
     
* * * * *
    All was inky black. And cold. So cold.
    Lyra felt the brush of something by her arm, then her leg, but she couldn’t see, couldn’t feel beyond the currents that pulled her. The dark dreams were relentless, like the pressure of the ocean on her dive down. She could breathe, could open her eyes, but she couldn’t see beyond the tiny specks of light dancing in the distance, couldn’t move to fight the current pulling her this way and that.
    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