Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband

Chapter 227: The King of the Deep and the Yellow Flotation Device

Every monarch requires a sanctuary. For Caspian, the Merman King and former Final Boss of the oceanic realm, that sanctuary was the indoor aquatic pavilion located in the eastern wing of the cliffside manor.

It was an architectural masterpiece. Orion had spent weeks designing the vaulted glass ceilings to let in the natural moonlight, while Cassian had laid complex, glowing blue thermal runes along the marble tiles to keep the saltwater at the perfect, soothing temperature. It was a place of absolute tranquility. A place where a terrifying apex predator of the deep could shift into his true form and enjoy a moment of silent, undisturbed peace.

Caspian dove smoothly through the crystal-clear water, his massive, powerful tail propelling him forward with effortless grace. His scales shimmered in brilliant shades of deep sapphire and iridescent silver. The water muffled the chaotic sounds of the Warlord estate. There were no booming wolves, no lecturing snakes, and no exploding kitchen experiments.

Just perfect, glorious silence.

Creeeeaaak.

Caspian paused mid-glide. His sharp, finned ears twitched.

The heavy, carved oak doors of the aquatic pavilion slowly pushed open.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Caspian broke the surface of the water, smoothing his damp, silver hair back from his face. He rested his arms against the edge of the marble pool, his teal eyes narrowing as he looked toward the entrance.

Standing in the doorway, looking incredibly small inside the massive, echoing pavilion, was a bright yellow frog.

Pip had completely bypassed the magical security wards—mostly because Cassian had set the wards to detect threats over three feet tall. The two-year-old Duck-kin waddled into the room, his yellow canvas raincoat swishing around his knees, the giant stuffed frog eyes on his hood bouncing with every step.

Pip stopped at the edge of the polished marble floor. He looked at the massive, glowing pool of perfectly heated saltwater.

His dark eyes went entirely round. A massive, gummy smile stretched across his chubby face.

"Water!" Pip gasped, his voice echoing loudly off the glass ceiling.

"Halt," Caspian commanded, his deep voice rolling across the room with all the regal authority of a reigning monarch.

Pip blinked. He looked across the pool and saw Caspian. He saw the shimmering silver hair, the broad shoulders, and the massive, glittering sapphire tail swishing lazily beneath the surface of the water.

Pip pointed a chubby, accusatory finger directly at the King of the Deep.

"Big fish!" Pip shrieked happily.

Caspian felt a vein throb gently in his temple. "I am not a fish, little bird. I am a Merman. And this is a restricted aquatic zone. The Sovereign’s bathtub is located on the second floor. Turn around and waddle back to your father."

Pip did not turn around. In fact, Pip didn’t even hesitate.

He took three running, waddling steps toward the edge of the pool, his little downy duck wings flapping wildly beneath his heavy canvas coat.

"Pip, no. The canvas is not rated for deep submersion—" Caspian started to warn, actually pushing off the wall to intervene.

It was too late.

With a joyful, high-pitched "Honk!", Pip launched himself off the marble ledge.

He hit the water with a surprisingly massive SPLASH, sending a wave of warm saltwater crashing right over Caspian’s flawless face.

Caspian wiped the water from his eyes, his sharp teeth gritting together. He immediately dove under the surface, fully expecting to have to rescue a sinking toddler weighed down by a heavy, wet raincoat.

But when Caspian opened his eyes underwater, Pip wasn’t sinking.

Because Pip was a duck.

The toddler had instinctively kicked his chubby little legs, bobbing right back up to the surface. Furthermore, Cassian’s paranoid waterproofing spells on the yellow frog-cloak had effectively turned the entire garment into a giant, airtight balloon. Pip was floating perfectly in the center of the pool, looking exactly like a bright yellow, highly buoyant cork.

Caspian surfaced right next to him, letting out a long, long sigh.

"You are a menace to my peace," Caspian informed the toddler flatly.

Pip giggled, aggressively slapping the surface of the water with his chubby hands. Splash! Splash! "Fishy play!" Pip demanded, entirely unimpressed by the intimidating, lethal aura of the Merman King.

"The fishy does not play. The fishy is trying to meditate," Caspian replied, swimming slowly backward to create some distance. "I am going to call your father to retrieve you."

But Pip was a waterfowl, and water was his domain. He paddled his little booted feet furiously, gliding across the surface of the pool with surprising speed. He completely ignored Caspian’s personal space, swimming right up to the Merman’s chest and wrapping his chubby arms around Caspian’s neck.

Caspian froze.

He was a creature of the deep. He was used to commanding krakens and summoning tidal waves. He was absolutely not equipped to deal with a wet, sticky toddler clinging to his neck like a very cute barnacle.

Pip rested his chin on Caspian’s shoulder, his downy yellow wings fluttering happily against Caspian’s collarbone. "Ride?" Pip asked, his dark eyes looking up with absolute, devastating hopefulness.

Caspian closed his eyes, praying for patience. He could easily detach the child. He could set him on the ledge. But the water was warm, the toddler was surprisingly soft, and Caspian’s ruthless, cold heart had been entirely compromised by Primrose’s maternal influence over the last few years.

"One lap," Caspian surrendered, his voice a low, defeated grumble. "And then you are being deported back to the dry lands."

Pip let out a victorious squeal.

Caspian sighed, gently shifting his weight so Pip could securely grab hold of his broad shoulders. Then, moving much slower and far more carefully than he ever had in his life, the Merman King began to swim laps around the pool.

Pip thought it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. He was riding a giant, sparkly fish. He laughed hysterically, his little hands gripping Caspian’s wet hair like the reins of a majestic sea-horse.

"Faster, fishy! Honk!" Pip cheered, kicking his feet.

"Do not kick the royal scales," Caspian scolded mildly, though he did pick up the pace just a fraction, banking smoothly around the corner of the pool so the toddler would giggle harder.

They were halfway through their third "strictly one lap" rotation when the heavy oak doors burst open.

"Pip!" a panicked, rough voice echoed through the pavilion.

Lucien burst into the room. The Panther Warlord looked absolutely frantic. His dark suit jacket was missing, his tie was undone, and shadows were physically bleeding off his boots in a display of raw, unfiltered terror.

[Primrose POV]

Right behind Lucien, completely out of breath and holding a plate of half-eaten toast, was me.

"We looked everywhere!" I gasped, leaning against the doorframe. "Juni is searching the courtyard, Cassian is checking the library—"

I stopped talking. My eyes locked onto the center of the massive, glowing pool.

Lucien stopped dead in his tracks. The terrifying, swirling shadows around his feet instantly fizzled out.

Floating in the middle of the pristine saltwater, looking entirely unbothered, was Caspian. And clinging happily to Caspian’s back, wearing a dripping wet, inflated yellow frog coat, was the missing toddler.

Caspian slowly turned his head to look at us. His expression was a masterpiece of deadpan, aristocratic dignity, completely ignoring the fact that a baby duck was currently chewing on a strand of his beautiful silver hair.

"Control your waterfowl, Lucien," Caspian stated smoothly. "He breached the royal perimeter."

Lucien stared at them. He blinked, the sheer panic draining out of his body, leaving him looking completely exhausted. He walked slowly to the edge of the marble pool, dropping to a crouch.

"Pip," Lucien said, rubbing his temple. "You cannot simply wander off. Your mother is having a localized panic attack in the rose garden."

"Papa look!" Pip pointed proudly at his majestic aquatic steed. "Riding the fishy!"

"I am a King," Caspian corrected automatically, though there was absolutely no heat in it. He gracefully swam over to the edge of the pool, turning his back so Lucien could reach the toddler.

Lucien gently gripped Pip under the arms, lifting the dripping wet, incredibly heavy toddler out of the water. The inflated canvas raincoat made a loud squeelch sound as Pip was hauled onto the dry marble.

"Thank you, Caspian," Lucien murmured, his violet eyes meeting the Merman’s with deep, genuine gratitude. "I apologize for the intrusion. He is... drawn to the water."

"He has excellent paddling form," Caspian admitted, crossing his arms and resting them on the ledge. He looked at the soaking wet toddler, a fond, hidden smile in his teal eyes. "Though his lack of respect for authority is alarming. He gets that from Rurik."

I burst out laughing, walking over and tossing a fluffy white towel to Lucien.

"I’ll go tell Juni we found him before she actually blows the roof off the manor with wind magic," I smiled, looking down at my husband. "Are you okay? Did he ruin your quiet time?"

Caspian looked up at me, water dripping from his eyelashes. He reached out, his cool, wet hand gently wrapping around my ankle to keep me from walking away just yet.

"My peace was thoroughly disrupted," Caspian sighed dramatically, looking up at me through his wet silver bangs. "I require extensive compensation. Perhaps a private dinner. Or a foot massage. Or both."

"You were giving him a piggyback ride, Your Majesty, you weren’t fighting a war," I teased, though I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his damp forehead. "But I’ll make your favorite lemon-butter scallops tonight anyway."

Caspian’s teal eyes darkened with instant approval. "A fair trade."

Lucien had finished wrapping Pip securely in the fluffy towel, completely covering the dripping yellow frog coat. He picked the toddler up, holding him safely against his chest. Pip immediately yawned, the excitement of the "big fish ride" finally catching up to him.

"We will leave you to your meditation, King Caspian," Lucien said respectfully, bowing his head slightly.

"Ensure he does not drip on the hallway rugs," Caspian ordered smoothly, pushing off the wall and gliding back into the center of the pool. "Cassian will have a stroke."

As Lucien carried the sleepy, wet toddler out of the pavilion, I lingered for just a second longer. I watched my husband dive beneath the surface again, his massive tail flashing in the moonlight.

He was the terrifying, unyielding King of the Deep. But he was also the man who would let a two-year-old duck use him as a raft just to make him smile.

I smiled to myself, turning to follow Lucien back into the chaos of the manor. Yeah. I definitely married the right beast.