Jewel of the Sea

by Tiffany Roberts

  “Hands are one of the most difficult things to draw,” she said, smoothing her palm over his. “But they are also one of the most beautiful.”

  His eyes fixated on her hand, and he drank in every detail from her delicate knuckles to her long, slender fingers and short, blunt nails. The slightly rougher spots on her skin enhanced the sensation of her touch. He attempted to agree with her, but he wasn’t sure what sound, if any, came out.

  She placed a finger under his chin and guided his head up until his eyes met hers. Smiling, she slid her fingertips along his jaw until she reached his siphons. “Macy told me these are not ears.”

  Transfixed by her brown eyes, he shook his head. Her fingers moved with such grace, such gentleness, such confidence and precision, and his skin was ablaze beneath them.

  “For breathing,” he said distractedly.

  She circled her finger over the end of his siphon. “What’s it like? When you go from water to air and back again?”

  Arkon swallowed and willed his mind to move past her feel, past her proximity and intoxicating scent. “It’s...it is like being suspended between worlds for a fraction of a moment. A fleeting taste of mortality as lungs or gills give out and my body adapts to its new environment.” He blew air through his siphons and Aymee yanked her hand back, laughing. Arkon shook his head again, unable to ignore the absence of her touch. “That sounds somewhat dramatic. I don’t mean to exaggerate.”

  “I love the way you describe things.” She canted her head to one side. “What you are is the embodiment of amazing. To live in two worlds…”

  “I must admit to having not done much living in this world. Not until recently.” He smiled, hearts thumping.

  “Everyone has to start somewhere. I haven’t done much living, either. I find enjoyment where I can, but I spend most of my days tending to the sick and wounded.” She scooted back to lean against the stone wall and plucked a round, red fruit out of the basket. An apple. Macy had told Arkon that apples had been brought to Halora from the ancient human homeworld. “Our exchange days have been the brightest ones for me recently. It gives me something to look forward to.”

  Arkon glanced down and traced a circle in the sand with the tip of a tentacle. “I spend my weeks anticipating the few minutes during which I’ll see you on the beach.”

  “If only you hadn’t been hiding from me.”

  He lifted his gaze to her; her smile had broadened into a grin. “As I recall, Aymee, you admitted to doing some hiding yourself.”

  “I didn’t want to frighten you away.”

  His skin shifted to pale violet. It took him a moment to force it back to normal.

  Aymee perused him with a peculiar look on her face. Finally, she met his gaze and held out the apple. “Would you like to try?”

  Arkon set aside his questions about the way she’d just stared at him and shifted his attention to the fruit. Macy had described it as crisp, sweet, and juicy. “I...do not know that I am feeling quite that adventurous, this time.”

  She laughed and pulled the apple back. “Macy told me Jax still refuses to eat anything that didn’t have a pulse. Do you really not eat plants, or is it just plants from topside that gross you out?” The crunch of her teeth sinking into the apple punctuated her question. She turned her mouth up teasingly as she chewed, juice glistening at its corners.

  Though he was no more compelled to sample the apple than he’d been a moment before, he felt a strange urge to taste its juice from her lips. “We were designed to be hunters. Our senses, especially sight and smell, are far superior to humans’. I believe it was intended as a means to keep us somewhat self-sufficient. We hunted food while we were out, which meant less work for our human keepers. My understanding is that the creatures that were used as part of our basis were carnivorous, as well.”

  “Octi…” Her brows drew together as she struggled with the word.

  “Octopus. It was a species of cephalopod from your people’s homeworld.”

  “And the kraken were based on their myth?”

  “No, not exactly. The kraken was supposed to be an octopus of immense size. A sea monster. Big enough to drag the huge ships the humans used to sail far below the surface. Our ancestors took the name from those legends.”

  “So, what is it like?” She took another bite of the apple and spoke around it. “When you hunt, I mean.”

  Arkon pushed himself off the blanket and onto the sand. “It’s an exhilarating experience, much of the time, though there are often other tasks I’d rather attend. Kraken rarely socialize, but during a hunt, a group of us operates as a team, united by a common goal.”

  He leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands with his belly near the ground. “For most prey, we wait in ambush.” To demonstrate, he altered his skin to match the color and texture of the sand beneath him. “When it comes close enough, we attack.” He sprang up at an imaginary fish, kicking sand onto the blanket, and paused. “My apologies.”

  Aymee chuckled and brushed sand from her leg. “You’re incredibly fast. What about hunting by scent and sound, without sight?”

  “It’s possible, but our eyes are our most powerful tools. There are...other creatures that excel in the dark, and the risk is rarely worth the reward.”

  She set her apple aside and pushed herself to her feet. “Would you like to try?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Would I like to try what?”

  “Hunting without sight.”

  “And what would I be hunting?”

  She swept by him, trailing her enticing fragrance in her wake. “Me.”

  His hearts quickened. “That certainly sounds more than worth the risk…”

  Aymee turned around and walked backward, toward the setting sun. “It’s a game we played as children. The seeker keeps their eyes closed and listens for the hiders. We called it Blind Man’s Bounty.”

  The notion of pursuing her by scent and sound stoked some primal instinct deep within Arkon. “Are there any other rules I should be aware of?”

  “Only that I won’t leave the shelter of the overhang, and that you must keep your eyes closed until I am caught.” She stopped and lifted her skirt over her knees, tying the excess material into a knot at her hip. “Are you ready?”

  Arkon’s gaze dipped over her bare legs before he squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes.”

  The ocean hissed against the shore, and the breeze whisked over his skin. The sounds gained power as they reverberated off the cliffside and the overhang above. Sunlight warmed his skin, and the sand beneath his tentacles bore a myriad of tastes and scents — including the faintest hint of Aymee.

  “Come find me, Arkon,” she called in a sing-song tone.

  He turned his head in the direction of her voice; it, too, echoed lightly off the nearby stone, obfuscating its point of origin. Slowly, he moved toward her and inhaled deeply, searching out anything beyond the smells of brine, sand, and stone on the wind.

  “I’m over here.” Her words drifted to him from an entirely different direction.

  Adjusting his movement, he circled around the area he thought she’d spoken from, putting the wind at his back — if her aroma were blowing toward him instead of away, he had a better chance of locating her.

  “You’re getting cold, Arkon.”

  His hearts pounded in rapid succession. Both the sand beneath him and the surrounding air cooled; he’d moved into the shadows.

  “I wonder what your reward will be?” she whispered from nearby.

  Arkon extended an arm. He sensed a change in the breeze — its flow was rerouted by something nearby. When he moved forward a bit more, his palm touched stone. He extended his tentacles to all sides, running them over the ground.

  His suction cups brushed over an imprint in the sand — one of her footprints — and detected her unmistakable smell. He followed the tracks, keeping his hand on the stone as he circled it. This was the pillar-like formation that extended down into the ground from the overhang.


  Her scent hit him like an electric jolt.

  “What would you like?” she asked, now from behind.

  Having marked the pillar in his mind’s eye, he had a better sense of the area. He turned toward her and hurried forward. “What are you offering?”

  She released a squeak, and her feet whispered over the sand in retreat. He knew he was closing in on her by the strength of her smell and the sound of her movement.

  He knew he’d won when her laughter filled the air.

  Arkon opened his eyes as he lunged forward. Her eyes were wide and bright, her smile radiant, and her scream brimmed with humor. Arkon threw his arms around her, and they fell together. He turned before they hit the ground, wrapping his tentacles around her and taking the brunt of the fall — which was softened by the sand — on his shoulders.

  She shook with laughter, and her curls fell over his chest to tickle his skin.

  “You’ve not told me my prize,” he said.

  Aymee placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up, grinning down at him. “What would you like?”

  As he paused to consider — she’d left open too many possibilities for his imagination to adequately examine — he realized their current position. Her pelvis and breasts pressed against him, and his tentacles were coiled around her thighs and waist, his hands on her back. The salty-sweetness of her skin — laced with something more — delighted him. Quite suddenly, his self-control was in jeopardy.

  She lifted a finger to touch his bottom lip, lowering her head. Her hair fell to either side of his face, curtaining them from the outside world. “Perhaps a kiss?”

  His breath shallowed, and his skin blazed. Everything but he and Aymee was unimportant, faraway, forgotten.

  Kraken didn’t kiss.

  But Macy and Jax did. Often.

  He could do little more than nod.

  She smiled, holding his gaze as she eliminated the remaining space between them. Her warm breath danced on his skin, and his hearts raced. She touched her lips to his.

  Arkon closed his eyes and tugged her closer. Her lips parted, and she applied more pressure, first at one corner of his mouth, then the other, and finally at the center.

  Colors exploded behind his eyelids; he didn’t even have a name for most of them, but they stole his breath. She stole his breath.

  Holding perfectly still apart from the trembling of his hands, he inhaled, taking Aymee into him until she filled his entire being. She cupped his jaw, fingers spreading on either side of his siphons as the press of her lips grew firmer. Another scent clouded his senses — that mysterious, alluring hint he’d tasted before, stronger now than ever. It settled over his mind in a maddening fog, pouring fire into his veins.

  He curled his tentacles up along her legs, reaching for the source of the alluring aroma.

  Aymee gasped and stilled.

  For the second time, his conscious mind noticed their position — noticed her pelvis was settled over his slit, and only her body weight kept his throbbing shaft hidden. The slightest easing of pressure, and he’d extrude immediately.

  Arkon opened his eyes to see Aymee staring down at him.

  “I hope your reward was worth the risk,” she whispered. The dark pools of her eyes were filled with uncertainty and desire, mirroring his own emotions.

  His nostrils flared as he released a slow, shaky breath; its speed was deliberate, but not its unsteadiness.

  Calm. We were caught up in the moment, but the moment has passed, now… Regardless of how much I want it to continue.

  “A thousand times over.”

  His hearts thundered, and Aymee’s fingers were points of molten pleasure on his skin. Her entire body lay pressed against his, molded to him. How could he calm himself when she was touching him like this?

  If she moved before he’d cooled off, how could he keep from extruding? How would she react if he did?

  She smiled, but this smile was different. It was slower, almost self-satisfied, and it sparked a new light in her eyes. Her thumbs brushed along his cheekbones. “I’m glad.” She raised her head, lifting away her dark hair, and evening light flooded in to drag Arkon back to reality. “It’s getting late.”

  Calm. I don’t need to embarrass myself any further or frighten her away.

  “Is our time already coming to an end?”

  She looked down at him, melancholy writ upon her features. “It is.”

  The thumping of his hearts faded, giving way to the gentler sounds of wind and sea. “Shall we meet again tomorrow?”

  “No. It’s too soon.” Idly, she stroked her thumbs over his cheeks and jaw. “I don’t want to draw suspicion. The leader of the rangers…” Her brows knit, creating a small crease between them that he wanted to soothe. “I think he’s taken a liking to me.”

  There was a sinking, twisting sensation in Arkon’s gut, and his breath stuck in his lungs for a few moments after he meant to exhale. His lingering arousal vanished that quickly, though his hearts didn’t slow, and his blood had scarcely cooled. Instinct urged him to tighten his hold on her. Demanded he not let go. The mere thought of her with another male stoked a rage in him he’d never known.

  “You’re turning red,” Aymee said, awe in her voice. She returned her hands to his shoulders, propped herself up, and let her gaze wander over his face and torso.

  He forced himself to take another slow, deep breath, but such feelings were not easily expelled. His skin reverted to normal, but not without effort. “When can we next meet, then?”

  “In three days.”

  “Two.”

  She grinned. “Are you that eager, then?”

  Eager enough that I’d consider coming tomorrow, just on the tiny chance you’ll be here.

  “I enjoy our time together.”

  “Me too. Two days it is.”

  Arkon stared up at her, committing every tiny detail of her face to memory. The sea crashed into the land and receded, crashed and receded, and the sun continued its slow, downward trek.

  Aymee laughed. “You’ll have to let me go sometime, Arkon.”

  “Let you go?”

  She wiggled her hips and thighs.

  Were it not for his embarrassment, her movement might have rekindled his desires. He unraveled his limbs from around her, relinquishing the possessive hold he’d taken. “Apologies,” he muttered.

  Aymee brushed her palm along his cheek, offered him a tender smile, and rose. She set about collecting her belongings. Arkon got up and helped shake out the blanket, fold it, and pack the basket.

  “May the stars smile upon you tonight, Aymee,” he said when they’d finished.

  She stood on her toes and pecked a kiss on his cheek. “And may your dreams be filled with color, Arkon.”

  Cheek tingling, he watched her go. Each of her steps was a little more weight on his chest, but when she turned to look at him over her shoulder, a thrill coursed through him. Soon, she walked around the bend and out of sight.

  Arkon pressed the pads of a finger to his lips and cheek, which still thrummed with the ghost of her kiss.

  These were likely to be the longest two days of his life.

  Chapter 5

  The clinic creaked in the howling wind, and its windows rattled with each boom of thunder. The storm had come upon The Watch without warning in the middle of the night — not unusual during the wet season — and had raged throughout the day.

  Aymee propped her chin on her hand, watching the rain batter the windowpanes. Enough water streamed down the glass that the building might as well have been standing in a riverbed.

  Most people stayed indoors during such weather, which had made for a slow day at the clinic. It was just as well — Aymee was having a hard time focusing. Her father had departed an hour earlier to attend a bedridden mother-to-be and, left to her own devices as evening approached, she found herself uncharacteristically morose.

  The change in her was astounding; a few days ago, she’d been content to wait patiently
through an entire week just to chance a glimpse of Arkon. Now, every hour was a battle against her craving for his presence.

  She smiled, brushing a fingertip over her lips. She’d kissed him.

  What had Macy felt, what had she thought, the first time she kissed Jax? Surprise? Shock? Had she been confused to feel something so powerful for something — someone — so different, so other?

  When Aymee looked upon Arkon, she saw something…familiar. A kindred spirit. His physical differences were nothing to instill fear and disgust; she’d been awed and inspired by him from the first moment she looked upon him.

  Her finger paused on her lower lip, and for an instant, she felt his mouth upon hers again. He’d gone so still, his muscles tense, eyes wide with astonishment, and she’d known he’d never been kissed before. A thrill coursed through her at the knowledge — the thrill of being the one to give him that experience. She’d wondered, as she lay atop him, his limbs coiled around her legs and waist, if kissing wasn’t the only thing he’d never done.

  But how could that be? Arkon was powerful, agile, and intelligent — his people had to see that, too. Perhaps only kissing was new to him.

  Aymee straightened in her chair and looked down at the desk. The papers spread over its surface were covered in sketches of Arkon’s hands in varying poses. She traced her finger along one of the many lines — the webbing between forefinger and thumb — and recalled the feel of his hands. Heat sparked inside her.

  She’d desired other men, but what Arkon made her feel with a simple glance was beyond comparison — and beyond her understanding.

  With a sigh, Aymee gathered the papers, slipped them into her leather satchel, and closed the flap. There was no point sitting in the clinic alone watching the rain fall. Though the night ahead seemed impossibly long, tomorrow would come.

  She just hoped the storm would pass by then.

  After ensuring everything was clean and the supplies were stored, she turned off the lights and made her way into the front room. She looped the satchel strap over her shoulder, pulled her coat on over it, and stepped out into the downpour.