Heart of the Deep (The Kraken Book 3)

by Tiffany Roberts

  “An infection set in. I don’t remember much of that, either, except that my father was there every time I opened my eyes. He refused to leave my side. They said it was five days before my fever broke. Someone had run to the nearest town and scrounged up a booster, some antibiotics, and a doctor, and eventually, they were able to bring me home so I could recover. It took a long time, and there was so much pain, and my mother was just gone, and I’d never hear her voice again, or see her smile, or be hugged by her.”

  Larkin swallowed. Her face trembled against his arm, and her body shook with her sobs. Finally, she released a long, unsteady breath.

  “There was no goodbye. No last I love you. But I know she sacrificed herself for me. The doctor at Fort Culver performed surgery to repair as much of the damage as was possible, but even with all the equipment we had available, she could only do so much. After I’d woken up from the anesthetic and shaken off the grogginess, she came and told me that I would never conceive a child. The damage had been too extensive. Just one more kick while I was still down.”

  “Larkin,” Dracchus rumbled, gently turning her face toward him. He brushed the tears from her cheeks and stared into her bright blue eyes. What could he say to take away that pain? To make it better?

  The answer came to him suddenly, constricting his hearts.

  Nothing.

  This pain belonged to Larkin alone, and he could never take it from her, no matter how much he wished he could. But he could ease her burden by showing her how he felt. By making her feel her worth every day. This event had shaped her into the woman she was, into his mate, but he could show her that there was more to life, that there was more to her.

  He dipped his head and kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears, and smoothed his palm over her scars. She turned her body toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck without breaking the kiss, without breaking his embrace.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth, pressing her forehead to his.

  He guided her head to his chest and held her as she cried. His hearts swelled with joy and hope, ached with her sorrow, and pulsed with the strength of the bond he and Larkin had formed.

  Dracchus trailed his hand down her back and kissed the top of her head. “I am yours. Forever.”

  Chapter 19

  Larkin smiled and offered Sarina a slice of winefruit. The girl took it daintily between the claws of her forefinger and thumb and shoved the entire piece in her mouth.

  Juice dribbled down her chin as she grinned at Larkin. “Another!”

  “Sarina, what do you say?” Macy called from the kitchen.

  Sarina lifted herself up on her tentacles, craning her neck to look at her mother through the window between the mess hall and the kitchen. Then she turned back to Larkin with big eyes. “Please?”

  “For being polite, I will give you two,” Larkin said. She offered two slices, which promptly disappeared into the little girl’s mouth.

  Sarina hurried to Jax and raised her arms expectantly.

  He frowned down at her. “Did you forget to say something else to Larkin?”

  Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she raised her arms higher.

  “Sarina,” he said in a warning tone.

  She blew out of her siphons and looked at Larkin, though there was no anger. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Larkin replied, bringing up a hand to hide her grin. Sarina was just like most human children — formalities were a low priority when there were so many exciting things to do next.

  “Daddy, I want up!” she begged.

  Jax lowered his torso and took her into his arms.

  “Tamed by not one, but two females,” Arkon said as Jace crawled up his back and wrapped his tentacles around the blue kraken’s face.

  “I heard that!” Aymee called from the kitchen. It was followed by laughter from both her and Macy.

  Arkon opened his mouth to reply, but Jace stuffed the tip of a tentacle inside, silencing his father.

  “I like your youngling more each day, Arkon,” Jax said with a smile, seeming to ignore Sarina’s little fingers prodding his cheek.

  Larkin chuckled as she peeled another winefruit; the violet-red insides divided naturally into wedges, which she added to the nearby bowl. She’d managed, somehow, not to drip any of the dark juice onto the blanket beneath her. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sit, but she’d agreed with Aymee and Macy — a picnic didn’t feel right if you weren’t sitting on blankets. The human women all would’ve preferred the blankets spread on a sunny beach, or in an open field, but the mess hall was good enough.

  It was more about the company than the location, anyway.

  It’d been a week since Larkin agreed to become Dracchus’s mate, and she and the big kraken had grown closer every day. She was happy, happier than she’d been in years. She had a mate who cared for her, had her brother, and had real friends. She’d found it impossible not to like Macy, Aymee, and their kraken families once she’d come to know them. The only shadow in her heart was the thought of her father.

  Had he survived?

  She’d gone through the pain of uncertainty concerning Randall for the last year, but the experience didn’t make it any easier to bear now. She had to believe he was alive, and she knew, if he was, he’d be hunting. Not just for Larkin and Randall, but for the kraken who’d taken his children.

  “Do you need help?” Melaina asked, squatting down next to Larkin with her tentacles curled around her.

  “Sure,” Larkin said, handing Melaina a winefruit.

  The young kraken dragged a claw over the skin, slicing it open cleanly, and peeled the outer layer like she’d been doing it all her life.

  “In the bowl, Melaina, not your mouth,” Rhea said as she lowered herself beside her daughter. She placed another bowl next to the winefruit. It was full of chopped naba stalks, all peeled to reveal their sweet, white, spongey interiors.

  Only Dracchus and Randall were missing, having joined a hunting party. As much as Larkin would’ve loved to accompany them, she’d already promised to come to the picnic. She didn’t regret it; she was enjoying herself with people she was beginning to see as family.

  Larkin glanced between Rhea and Melaina — her sister and niece-by-joining. It was still strange to think of them that way, but it felt good. They’d brought about a change in Randall. He laughed easier, and his smiles were more genuine. He’d always been good at putting on a friendly face, but after their mother had died, he’d forced it more often than not.

  “Where is Uncle Dracchus?” Sarina asked.

  “On a hunt with Randall, Ikaros, and a group of kraken,” Jax replied.

  She coiled a tentacle around his wrist. “When can I go hunting?”

  “When you are fully grown. Maybe.”

  “A female hunt?” Rhea asked with a frown. “You mean to allow her out there?”

  “I said maybe.” Jax frowned deeply. “Should it not be a female’s choice, like so much else?”

  “It has… It is not done,” Rhea said.

  Melaina deposited another fully peeled winefruit into the bowl. “I would like to hunt.”

  “No!” Rhea snapped. “You will not. It is too dangerous.”

  “It is dangerous,” Larkin agreed. Melaina, Jax, and Rhea all looked at her. “But life is about risks.”

  Arkon tugged Jace’s tentacle out of his mouth, eyes wide with excitement. “See! That’s what I have been saying!”

  “And your risk brought the hunters to us,” Rhea said.

  Aymee stepped into the room, carrying a steaming platter. “But it also resulted in a mate.” She beamed at Arkon.

  He smiled back at her. “For myself, and for you, Rhea.”

  Rhea frowned, eyes softening slightly. “It is still too dangerous. Especially for a female.”

  “It’s equally dangerous for males,” Larkin said gently. “More so, sometimes, because they tend to make decisions based on how big they think the
ir—” She snapped her mouth shut as Aymee, in the process of seating herself beside Arkon, widened her eyes and shook her head. Larkin cleared her throat. “Sorry. Men do stupid things sometimes because they have big egos. They think it proves they’re somehow superior to each other.”

  “That is accurate.” Jax held an arm out, and Sarina, dangling from it by hands and tentacles, slowly pulled herself toward his hand.

  “I suppose it is,” Arkon agreed. “That’s essentially the purpose of all these challenges that get thrown about, isn’t it? Is this the same case for human males?”

  “All the time. They challenge each other any chance they get, they just don’t do it as formally as kraken do,” Larkin said, dropping the last wedge of fruit into the bowl. She wiped her purple-stained fingers dry on a cloth.

  Sarina dropped to the floor as she reached Jax’s hand and made her way toward the platter of fish Aymee had brought. She grabbed a chunk and ate it before anyone could stop her.

  Macy came out of the kitchen carrying a similar tray. Larkin frowned. The normally radiant woman looked pale, perhaps even a little green. She held the tray out in front of her as though the very sight of the fish atop it sickened her.

  Jax met her before she’d made it halfway across the room and took the tray from her. “Are you well, Macy?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little morning sickness, I think. The smell of the fish is just really getting to me today,” she replied.

  They moved to the blanket together, and Jax guided her to a spot on one end before taking the tray to the opposite side and setting it down.

  “Let’s dig in!” Aymee said.

  No one needed to be told twice; they heaped portions of fish, fruit, and vegetables on their plates, though the adult kraken avoided all but the meat. Melaina and Sarina giggled as they traded food back and forth, and Arkon attempted to feed naba to Jace, but the little boy took the pieces and held them to his father’s mouth while stealing the fish from Arkon’s plate.

  Larkin smiled as she ate. Arkon wouldn’t have anything for himself, at that rate.

  “You are a hunter, Larkin, are you not?” Rhea asked.

  “I am,” she replied, shifting a bit of fish to one side of her mouth. There was a strange taste to the meat; not unpleasant, but wholly unfamiliar. “My parents taught me how to hunt and survive when I was really young.”

  “See!” Melaina piped, though ducked her head at Rhea’s glare.

  Rhea turned her strange eyes back toward Larkin. “Randall said you were the best shot.”

  There were other rangers — full-grown men, older than her by years — who were still upset about that, but, thanks to the encouragement of her family, she’d never let them make her feel ashamed. “I am.”

  “Did your males teach you?”

  “My parents both did — and Randall, too — but it just kind of came naturally to me. It wasn’t long before I surpassed my brother, though.” Larkin grinned. “You should have seen his face the first time I hit three targets dead-center in a row, beating him and his friends. I was only seven.”

  “I’m seven!” Melaina announced.

  “Melaina,” Rhea warned.

  Macy laughed as she chewed on a piece of bitterstock. “Melaina is a free spirit, like Jax.”

  “I am sorry if that’s true, Rhea,” Jax said with a smile, “because if it is, she will only push harder as you set firmer boundaries.”

  Rhea sighed and looked at her daughter. There was worry in her eyes, but they softened as though with understanding. “I know this. I just…”

  “It’s hard to let them go,” Larkin said. “My dad was — is —protective of me. No matter how old I get, or how often I prove myself, I don’t think that will ever change.”

  “It is true,” Rhea agreed.

  “Aymee is a good shot, too,” Melaina said as Larkin took a bite of winefruit. “She shot Randall.”

  Larkin inhaled and nearly choked. She coughed, brows furrowed, looking at the young kraken girl. “What?”

  “He didn’t tell you?” Aymee covered her mouth with her hand, cheeks turning red.

  “No. He never said anything. I mean, I knew that he was shot twice, once by Cyrus, but… You?”

  “It was an accident.” Aymee swallowed the food in her mouth and lowered her hand. “It was the first time Randall saw Arkon, and Cyrus turned it into a fistfight on the beach. I picked up a gun to try to get them to stop, and when Cyrus hit me…the gun went off. I never meant to shoot him.”

  The anger flaring inside Larkin wasn’t directed toward Aymee; it was reserved entirely for Cyrus Taylor. There was no reason to doubt Aymee’s story; why would Randall be on such friendly terms if the shooting had been anything other than an accident? And it fit well with Randall’s cryptic words about having received his wounds from Cyrus.

  He only pulled the trigger once, but yeah. He did this.

  “I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” Larkin said, offering Aymee a smile.

  Aymee’s shoulders sagged in relief. She returned the smile. “Me, too.”

  Sarina pressed a hand to her stomach. “Daddy, I don’t feel good.”

  Jax leaned down beside her, placing his palm on her back. “What’s wrong, Sarina?”

  “My tummy hurts.”

  “She looks pale, Jax,” Macy said, frowning.

  Jax’s brow lowered. “Maybe she has eaten too—”

  Jace suddenly leaned over Arkon’s arm and vomited. Arkon jerked back, though securely kept hold of Jace, his skin flashing yellow.

  Aymee’s eyes widened, and she leapt up, plate falling out of her lap as she hurried to Arkon’s side. A second later, Sarina dropped to the floor, arms folded over her middle, and heaved, emptying her stomach.

  “Sarina!” Macy cried, rushing toward her daughter.

  Jax hesitated in reaching for the child, who looked so tiny and meek before him, as though fearful he’d make it worse.

  “My stomach hurts, too,” Melaina said, features drawn.

  “We need to get to the infirmary,” Aymee said, raising her son’s eyelid and feeling his forehead. “Now. Everyone.”

  Larkin stood, heart racing, when a sudden cramp twisted her belly. She gasped and pressed a hand to it.

  “What is happening?” Rhea asked, helping her daughter rise. She watched with wide eyes, skin turning yellow, as Melaina bent over and vomited onto the blanket.

  Cold sweat beaded on Larkin’s skin; Aymee’s skin glistened, too, and she’d taken on a sickly pallor.

  “Aymee, what’s going on?” Macy asked, scooping Sarina up off the floor and cradling her in her arms.

  “Need to move,” Aymee grated.

  The trip to the infirmary was frantic. Macy, Arkon, and Jax led the way, followed by Rhea, who carried her daughter. Larkin had her arm around Aymee, bearing most of the woman’s weight as they ran through the hallway.

  Within the infirmary, the children were placed upon beds, all looking limp and lifeless. Fear closed its icy claws around Larkin’s heart. Kraken or not, these were innocent children, suffering and afraid, motionless save for when their bodies doubled over in pain.

  Larkin’s legs were unsteady as she assisted Aymee to Jace’s bed. Every few steps sent a fresh wave of agony through her abdomen. She staggered forward, and a strong arm took hold of hers and kept her from falling. She wasn’t sure who had helped, but offered them a muttered thanks.

  Macy stood next to Sarina, holding the girl’s face in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Sarina, keep your eyes open, sweetheart. Please. Oh God, Jax…”

  Jax stared at Sarina with helplessness gleaming in his eyes. He held one of her hands, and it looked so tiny against his. Both he and Rhea had turned a pale gray, their tentacles moving restlessly beneath them, and their bodies shook with occasional shudders.

  His muscles tensed, and his nostrils flared with quick, heavy breaths for several seconds.

  Were they sick, too?

  “Arkon, get the blood an
alyzer.” Aymee’s hair hung in her face, and her body trembled. Larkin guessed the woman was only on her feet because she was leaning most of her weight on the bed.

  Arkon, who looked shaken but otherwise unaffected, crossed the room and opened a wide drawer. He looked from side to side twice before finally pulling out a small device and hurrying back to Aymee. Before he reached her, she bent to the side, clutching the bed rail with one hand, and vomited.

  “Aymee,” Arkon breathed.

  “Jace,” she said between retches. “Use it on Jace.”

  Arkon leaned over the bed, back turned to Larkin. She couldn’t see him use the analyzer, but it didn’t matter; she forced all her attention, all her willpower, toward withstanding the pain of the next cramp, clutching her stomach.

  “Aymee, what is going on? What’s happening?” Macy asked desperately.

  “A toxin,” Arkon replied. “The scanner is reading a toxin in Jace’s bloodstream, matching the venom of the blue needler.”

  “Poison?”

  Cold fear filled Larkin.

  “We do not hunt blue needler,” Jax said, eyes shifting between the occupied beds. “All kraken are taught it is poisonous when we are younglings.”

  “Does it list an antidote? Or antivenom, antitoxin, anything like that?” Aymee’s voice was ragged. She sagged against the bed.

  Tense silence reigned, save for the thunder of Larkin’s too-fast heartbeat.

  “Yes, it does,” Arkon said.

  “You and Macy, go to the cabinet and—” Aymee groaned, the sound drawing out until it ended in a quivering whimper.

  Arkon dropped the device onto the bed and sank down, wrapping an arm around Aymee’s waist to support her. His skin had gone yellow again. “Aymee?” He brushed her hair back from her face.

  “Go find it,” she replied weakly.

  He clenched his jaw and scooped her into his arms, laying her gently on the bed beside their son.

  Macy grabbed the scanner and hurried to the cabinet alongside Arkon. Though Larkin couldn’t see its contents, she heard the clattering of what had to be dozens of bottles and vials as they searched.

  Another wave of cramps hit her. She raised her hand to her mouth as though it would stop what was coming. She turned away from Jace and Aymee as every muscle inside her contracted, forcing out the contents of her stomach. Acid burned her throat, and the cords of her neck strained.