Heart of the Deep (The Kraken Book 3)

by Tiffany Roberts

  He pulled his face away from that first contact, tension thrumming through his body, but it was short-lived. He soon relaxed and moved his head back to its original position.

  Eventually, the distant mainland emerged from the horizon, growing steadily larger and more defined. Larkin focused on it, ignoring the feel of Dracchus’s body. What good would it do her to watch the muscles of his arms stretch and relax, or to brush her fingertips over his shoulders as they moved?

  Randall was all that mattered.

  She didn’t know where he was, but if there was even a tiny chance Dracchus was telling the truth — and, crazy as it felt, she didn’t think he was lying — she had to take it.

  Chapter 9

  Branches and leaves snapped and crunched around Dracchus as he followed Larkin through the dense vegetation, announcing his presence to all creatures within earshot. The destruction in his wake left a visible trail.

  Everything was strange to him on land — the colors, the smells, the tastes and sounds. Living and dead plants, while essentially the same thing, possessed entirely different textures and scents, and even the ground had no consistent feel from place to place. The thick, hot air held only enough moisture to tease Dracchus and make him long for the sea.

  The vegetation seemed to claw at him as he passed, like it recognized he did not belong. Everything in the jungle felt so close.

  Larkin, by contrast, moved silently and effortlessly, slipping between plants and walking over the cluttered ground as easily as Dracchus could swim.

  “Are you always this broody?” she asked.

  Dracchus looked up. Larkin stood on the crest of a small rise, looking down at him over her shoulder. Her damp clothing clung to her body, particularly around her breasts and backside, accenting her curves. He trailed his gaze over her body slowly; it was easier than answering her question, which had only confused him. A brood was a group of younglings. Did she think he was acting like a youngling?

  Larkin turned to face him, one brow arched. “What are you doing?”

  “Studying your body.”

  She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. There was a hesitance to her action that spoke of uncertainty; was it because he was a kraken?

  Her attempt to hide her breasts only pressed them together and pushed them upward, granting him a more enticing view.

  “What is wrong?” he asked. Why were humans always so intent on covering themselves? Even Randall, a fit, confident male, wore clothing that covered most of his body. Dracchus understood that humans were more sensitive to cold than kraken, but how could any creature find this air cold?

  “Well, most men don’t just admit to ogling women.” She shifted her weight onto one leg, cocking her hip to the side. “They like to think they’re subtle about it.”

  Dracchus glanced down at himself. “I do not think I am capable of being subtle.”

  The corners of her lips twitched before finally lifting into a grin. “I guess not.”

  He’d not seen her smile in the brief time he’d known her, and the expression lit up her face like he couldn’t have imagined. For an instant, he saw Larkin without worry, without pressure, with nothing but a bit of joy. And she was beautiful.

  “You’re doing it again,” she said, grinning wider.

  Dracchus nodded. He’d spent considerable time with a small group of humans over the last year, so their features were not particularly new or unusual to him. Yet he couldn’t help staring at Larkin, even with so many unfamiliar things surrounding him.

  She turned away and lowered her arms. “Come on. We need to find a source of water and a place to shelter before it gets dark.”

  He moved up the rise and fell into place behind her as they continued through the jungle. Occasionally, she paused, crouching to study the ground nearby or reaching up to run her hand over a thick vine.

  Before long, she seemed to find whatever it was she’d sought. She stopped at a cluster of vines, touched them with palm, and kneeled, drawing a knife from her boot. The weapon was similar to the one she’d handed him on the ship. Standing up, she cut a notch high on the vine and crouched to sever the plant completely near the ground.

  She leaned back and lifted the open end of the vine, holding it a hand’s span over her mouth. Water dripped from the severed plant to land on her waiting tongue.

  When the flow of liquid slowed, she tipped the vine up and looked at him. “Do you need some?”

  “No,” he replied. “Is there anything humans don’t do with plants?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You eat them, and Arkon said you use them to make clothing, shelters, colors to paint things. You drink from them, too?”

  “Most plants have a use.” She shrugged. “I guess humans are just...resourceful. We make do with what we have.”

  Dracchus grunted; the kraken had made do with the Facility for generations, using what had been left after their ancestors claimed the place. But that didn’t quite match what Larkin had displayed.

  The kraken, as a people, could stand to be somewhat more resourceful. Their home would not last indefinitely, and they needed to think beyond what they had now. Arkon was good at it, and sometimes Jax, but the rest — Dracchus included — seemed to show little ability for it.

  And yet, they were part human. Did that not mean they were all capable of innovation to some degree?

  He went to the severed vine and lifted it, glancing at the open end before looking back at her. “So, we will shelter here, where there is water?”

  “I think we’re close to a larger water source. I’ve been following a krull trail for a while now, and they usually walk particular paths to get to the water.”

  Larkin resumed the journey, and Dracchus followed, dropping his gaze to the ground. He swept his eyes back and forth over the jungle floor, looking for the krull trail she’d spoken of. The plants, both living and dead, were too similar for him to differentiate, and he had no idea what a krull was.

  He glanced at her boots. As she lifted a foot, some of the dead vegetation came up, and he noticed a depression in the ground below matching the bottom of her boot. Tilting his head, he searched the area nearby. Not far from her boot print, he noticed a more defined mark in the dirt — a cluster of three oval shapes, the central one straight with the outer two angled away.

  His gaze shifted forward, and he spotted another track half-covered by rotting leaves.

  Understanding dawned on him; this was the same technique his people sometimes used to locate the dens of the hard-shells dwelling on the seafloor. The creatures left visible pathways when they crawled over the loose sand on the bottom.

  “So…this Arkon sounds intelligent,” she said.

  “Yes, when he is not being foolish.”

  “Aren’t we all a little foolish?” Larkin brushed aside a low hanging branch and suddenly leapt back. The branch sprung back into place, but something dropped into the brush below. “Move back,” she commanded.

  Dracchus held his position as she backed up. Though he was unfamiliar with land creatures, he would not retreat.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder for an instant. “Damnit, do you want to die? I said move!”

  The creature emerged from the thicker vegetation. It had a long, thin body with rough-looking skin that resembled the outside of the nearby trees. The creature lifted its front off the jungle floor, rising unsteadily so its head swayed at the height of Larkin’s waist. Tiny legs tipped with claws lined its belly. The creature opened its mouth, revealing two long, thin fangs.

  It advanced slowly, matching the pace of Larkin’s retreat, and hissed each time its head lurched forward in a mock attack. Larkin seemed to be its sole focus.

  Dracchus growled and moved in front of Larkin, pulsing his skin red and black. He reached behind him with a tentacle to guide her away, holding eye contact with the strange, aggressive beast.

  “What the hell, kraken?”

  He spread his tentacles, position
ing them to intercept a potential attack, and eased sideways. The creature followed his movement, twisting the upright section of his body to keep him in its vision. It continued its lunges, darting forward and swaying back. Dracchus sensed that this was little more than posturing — like the dancing that began a challenge between two kraken — but he didn’t lower his guard.

  The distance between kraken and beast shrank. Dracchus tensed, preparing for the imminent strike.

  Larkin moved around him suddenly, swinging a large branch downward and bashing the creature’s head into the ground. She pressed her attack, hitting the creature repeatedly, mercilessly.

  “Krullheaded—”

  Whack.

  “—foolish—”

  Whack.

  “—thick-skulled—”

  Whack.

  “—kraken!”

  She adjusted her hold on the stick, spreading her hands wide for better control, and jabbed the fork-shaped end over the creature’s neck. Its body writhed, legs scrambling in the rotting leaves. Larkin pressed a boot onto its body, just behind the stick, and drew her knife. She sliced the creature’s head off in one quick motion.

  Larkin stumbled back, shoulders heaving and cheeks red, and blew the hair out of her face.

  Dracchus knew she was skilled with guns, but that had only given him the smallest glimpse of her capability. This female wasn’t merely a huntress, she was a warrior.

  And she would be his.

  Warmth spread through him, and his shaft pressed against the inside of his slit.

  She bent forward and plucked the still-writhing body off the jungle floor. Her blazing eyes met his. “The next time I tell your ass to move, you move. This is a vorix. One bite, and you’d be dead before nightfall.” She tossed the carcass to him. “That’s dinner.”

  Larkin was already walking away, using the stick like an extra leg, when he caught the creature. He took a single glance at her kill and grinned. He’d provided for many females during his life. This was the first time a female had provided for him.

  Dracchus followed her, though now she seemed to make little effort to keep a pace that didn’t have him crashing through the vegetation. Branches and exposed rocks poked his tentacles and scratched at his skin. They were a minor irritation, irrelevant compared to his main focus — the swaying of her hips, the swing of her long hair against her back.

  He wanted this female more than he’d ever wanted any other. His previous pursuits of females had been fulfillments of duty first, a means of pleasure second. If the kraken did not mate, they would not produce younglings, and their people would die out. He knew all the females he’d mated, though the details of their time together had faded from his memory.

  They’d done their duty. What more had mattered?

  Were he a more contemplative individual, he might’ve reflected upon the reasons for his attraction to Larkin. Might have explored and analyzed those reasons, might’ve determined their root causes and learned something about himself in the process. But this was a simple situation for Dracchus — he wanted her, and he would have her. Why made no difference.

  He knew, somehow, that his time with her would not be forgotten. She would be burned into his memory forever, granted more thought than any of his kills and conquests.

  Larkin stopped, tilting her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

  Dracchus halted behind her and listened. Wind whispered through the leaves, and countless unseen creatures made their calls. Somewhere in the distance, a branch cracked, producing a clamor as it crashed to the jungle floor.

  Then he heard it — not the rumbling of the sea he’d known since his earliest days, but a lighter sound, rushing water trickling over rocks and stones.

  “Water,” he said.

  She grinned. “Damn right it is.”

  Larkin broke into a run with a whoop. Unwilling to let her out of his sight, Dracchus gave chase. She was a formidable hunter, and she’d not yet claimed him as a mate, but instinct drove him to protect her at all costs.

  He used trees and their large, tangled roots to propel himself forward, following Larkin and the strengthening sound of water. When he broke through the final barrier of plants, he found himself beside a natural pool. Water poured into it from elevated land on one side, sending up a fine, cool mist that was a welcome refreshment after the stifling jungle air. Sunlight poured through the leaves above to create shimmering rainbows in the mist.

  “Finally!” Larkin said.

  Dracchus swung his gaze to her and stilled.

  She toed off her remaining boot, dropping it beside the other, and lowered her hands to her waistband. She unbuttoned her pants and shoved them down, revealing her supple thighs and shapely backside; the latter was covered only by a scrap of cloth.

  Had he thought clothing an unnecessary before? The covering on her pelvis teased him, offering a maddening hint of the plump petals of her sex. This clothing had purpose — to drive him wild with desire.

  His cock strained against his slit, and he clenched his jaw against the discomfort. He wouldn’t embarrass himself by extruding and spilling his seed like an adolescent experiencing his first look at a female.

  Larkin straightened, and Dracchus couldn’t take his eyes off her as she stepped to the edge of the pool, the light setting her red-orange hair aglow. She leapt into the water.

  Dracchus’s tension eased. He groaned, pressing the heel of his palm to his slit to lessen the lingering ache of his hardened cock.

  After all the challenges he’d faced, would it really be this little human female to bring him low?

  To his own surprise, Dracchus didn’t mind. The challenge of conquering his huntress would be the greatest of his life.

  Larkin slid the last piece of vorix flesh onto a sharpened stick and propped it over the fire. The aroma of cooking meat made her mouth water, and her empty stomach clenched with hunger.

  They’d worked hard after locating the stream earlier that afternoon. She’d strained her already sore body even further, but it had been the sort of work she appreciated.

  She’d found several thick, hollow reeds to use as water containers, and they’d located a suitable spot to camp that was near both the stream and the sea. Despite the repeated trips over uneven ground and through thick vegetation, Dracchus hadn’t uttered a single complaint. He helped without having to be told, asked questions to clarify what she needed before he made mistakes, and seemed to have limitless endurance.

  His assistance was the only thing that enabled her to get a shelter up before dark — not only was he well equipped to tear down large branches and haul heavy loads to their campsite without tools, but his extra limbs were invaluable in combining those pieces into a functional whole. He was able to hold numerous components in place simultaneously while she secured them with thin vines.

  Larkin turned her head to look at him. The firelight cast a soft glow over his dark skin, reminding her of how she’d first seen him within the brig. But he wasn’t restrained by manacles and netting now; he was free to recline in all his splendor beneath the large lean-to they’d constructed, leaning on an elbow with his tentacles stretched out to one side.

  She’d expected him to be uneasy around the fire. He’d gone to the sea while she built it, and she couldn’t imagine an aquatic species having much to do with flames, but he displayed no discomfort. Rather, his gaze repeatedly crept toward the cooking meat, gleaming with poorly concealed hunger.

  Larkin gathered the first three sticks she’d set up and held them out to him. The meat on their ends continued to sizzle, dripping juices. “Here.”

  He shook his head. “You eat first.”

  “Are you always this noble?” she asked.

  “I do not know noble. You made the kill. The first share is yours.”

  “To humans, it’s rude to turn down an offering.”

  “And?”

  Larkin rolled her eyes. “Krullheaded kraken,” she muttered, snatching the meat from one of
the sticks and slipping it into her mouth. “There,” she said around the food, shoving the other two sticks into his hand.

  “Is that not rude, also?” he asked as he accepted the sticks, gesturing toward her mouth. “Macy tells the younglings not to speak while they are chewing.”

  She lowered her eyebrows. The rangers always attempted to be polite and personable within settlements, but the field was a different story. What did etiquette matter when you were hunting wild beasts in the middle of nowhere?

  Still, she chewed and swallowed before speaking again.

  “Macy. She’s that missing girl from The Watch. The one who was taken by a kraken last year.”

  “She was not taken.” He bit the entire chunk of meat off one of his sticks and proceeded to talk with the food in his mouth.

  Jerk.

  “She went by her own choice,” he continued, “aided by her friends and family.”

  “Why’d she leave?” Larkin picked up another skewer and took a small bite, breathing around its heat.

  “She was mated to a kraken.”

  Larkin choked. Dracchus shifted toward her with concern on his face, but she waved him back, shaking her head. She coughed, clearing her throat. “I think I misheard that. She what?”

  “She was mated to a kraken.”

  Her gaze traveled down his body, pausing on his pelvis, right above the start of his tentacles. There was nothing there but smooth, black flesh.

  “Is that even possible?” she asked.

  He followed her gaze downward and frowned. “We do not extrude at all times, like your males.”

  Larkin was glad she hadn’t taken another bite of food; her shock would’ve choked her to death. “Extrude? You mean it’s…in there?”

  “Where else would it be?” His brows fell to enhance his frown. She couldn’t tell if he was confused or insulted. Perhaps a bit of both?

  Still, she found some humor in this. He’d shown no shame in examining her. Smirking, she turned her face away. “Must be small, to be tucked away like that.”

  Dracchus was suddenly in front of her; he’d moved with a speed he shouldn’t have been capable of, and her heart leapt. He pushed her down onto her back and loomed over her, filling her vision entirely, amber eyes reflecting residual firelight.