“He got you, Uncle Dracchus!” Sarina’s face was lit up in triumph. At a year and three months old, she was Jace’s elder by less than half a year, but every week made a difference for rapidly developing kraken younglings.
Her birth had been a memorable event; her parents, Jax and Macy, were a kraken and a human. She’d looked so strange despite her many similarities to her kraken brethren. Her hair and nose were unique among their kind — or had been, until Jace.
One look into Sarina’s bright green eyes after her birth and Dracchus had been caught.
He’d never spent much time around younglings before Sarina. Now he seemed to be surrounded by them constantly.
“He’s pretending to be Ikaros again,” Melaina laughed. She was the eldest of the three children present at seven years old, and looked more and more like her mother, Rhea, with each passing month.
Ikaros, stretched out on the floor beside Melaina, lifted his head and cocked it. He was a prixxir — creatures that walked on four legs while on land, with small, flexible scales, a spikey fin along their spines, and long whiskers on their faces that were constantly in motion. Like the kraken, prixxir were able to breathe both underwater and in the air.
Dracchus coiled a tentacle around Jace’s middle and lifted the youngling off the floor, raising him to eye level. The child swiped at Dracchus with his tiny, clawed fingers and intensified his growling.
“You are not doing it right,” Dracchus said.
Jace stopped, arms dangling, and stared at Dracchus questioningly. It was the same inquisitive look that Arkon so often wore.
“Ikaros does not bite me,” Dracchus explained. “Because I do not taste good, and he likes me.”
Sarina giggled and reached toward Dracchus. He bent, offering her an arm, and lifted her when she latched on. Holding herself in place with her tentacles, she placed her hands on his cheeks and blew through her siphons. Dracchus mimicked her; he’d done so once, when she was very small, and she’d enjoyed it so much that they’d done it over and over again.
“Can we go out soon?” she asked. “I want to swim.”
“That is for your mother and father to decide. I will go out soon, but I must journey far away, and I cannot bring you.”
She frowned. “I want to go with you.”
Jace squirmed. Dracchus ruffled the youngling’s hair and let him back down before returning his attention to Sarina. “You are too small. This is your place for now.”
“Will there be a hunting party?” Melaina asked. Ikaros perked upon hearing the word hunt, whiskers sweeping forward.
“No, not this time.” A hunt would’ve been a simple thing to explain, but very little had been simple over the last year. “We have heard of a large boat and must see that it is not a danger to us.”
Sarina coiled her tentacles tighter and wrapped her arms around Dracchus’s neck. “I don’t want you to go.”
Dracchus had never understood the bond he and Sarina had formed, had never understood why she showed him so much affection or why he was compelled to show her the same. He was too inexperienced with younglings to know if it was normal behavior. He’d accepted it as a truth and moved on.
That acceptance had led him to unexpected experiences — like the pang in his chest now, an echo of the sorrow in her voice. He didn’t want to leave her, but duty called him away.
“If I do not go, your father will go, and Jace’s. And I do not want them to be away from you if they don’t have to be.”
Sarina’s hold tightened.
“Is Randall going?” Melaina asked.
Dracchus shook his head. Randall, another human like Macy and Aymee, had become one of Dracchus’s most trusted companions alongside Jax and Arkon, but this task required speed and stealth underwater that humans could not match.
“Randall and Ikaros will remain, also,” he said. Staying behind would allow Randall more time with Melaina and her mother, Rhea, who had become Randall’s mate.
“Will you be back?” Sarina asked against his shoulder.
His brow fell, and he frowned. However well as she articulated herself, Sarina was too young to have such concerns. Life had never been easy for the kraken, but their young were usually protected from the harsh realities of survival in the endless, unforgiving ocean for at least a few years after birth.
Perhaps things were worse than he’d led himself to believe.
“I will be back.”
“Promise?”
He slid a finger under her chin and tilted it up. “Yes.”
Her dark hair framed her face, long enough now to brush her shoulders. She met his gaze and smiled. “I will miss you.”
Dracchus smiled in return; many of his people likely believed him incapable of such an expression. “I will miss you, as well. But you are strong.”
The door behind Dracchus slid open. He turned to see Jax the Wanderer enter the room.
“Daddy!” Sarina’s face brightened.
Jax grinned. “Dracchus will have to learn to live with one arm if you cling to him like that all the time.”
“He could do it if he wanted to,” she replied. “He’s the strongest.”
“But your father still bested me every time I challenged him.” Dracchus worked his fingers between Sarina and his arm, mindful of his claws, and gently broke her hold. “Strength comes in many forms.”
“Daddy’s the fastest,” Sarina said, holding her arms out for Jax.
Jax accepted the youngling from Dracchus. She climbed onto his back, latching her tentacles on his shoulders, and wrapped her arms around his forehead.
“I guess I don’t need to ask why you’re here,” Macy said as she stepped around Jax. She smiled up at Sarina before looking at Dracchus. “You spoil them.”
Dracchus tilted his head. Meat spoiled if it went too long without being eaten, but he wasn’t sure what that had to do with the younglings.
Macy bent down and lifted Jace into her arms. “Thank you for watching them, Melaina.”
“I love to spend time with them,” Melaina replied, moving forward to brush her cheek against Jace’s. “Ikaros helps.”
Macy met Dracchus’s eyes and smiled. “He’s an excellent protector.” She turned back to Melaina. “Why don’t we take Jace to visit Aymee in the infirmary?”
Melaina grinned. “Okay. Can we play hunters-hunted when we’re there?”
“Hunters!” Sarina bounced on her father’s shoulders.
Ikaros sprang to his feet at Sarina’s excited tone and bounded back and forth around Jax, chirruping.
Macy laughed. “Yes. We can play.” She reached for Sarina, and the youngling climbed into her mother’s waiting arm. As Macy leaned closer to Jax, their eyes met, and her smile changed.
Dracchus was still learning to read human expressions and body language, even after so much time spent around them, but he knew what Macy’s smile meant.
Jax’s understanding was evident in his grin.
“We can play tonight,” she said softly.
“I will not let you break that promise.” A flash of maroon passed over Jax’s skin, there and gone in an instant.
She rose on her toes and brushed a kiss over his lips. “Never.”
“Can I play, too?” Sarina asked.
Macy pulled away from her mate with a chuckle. “It will be after your bedtime, Sarina.”
“And some games are only for your mother and father,” Jax added.
Sarina pouted. Jace cuddled against Macy’s chest and yawned wide, displaying his small, sharp teeth.
“I’ll see you later,” Macy said to Jax.
“I look forward to it.” His gaze followed Macy as she, Melaina, and Ikaros exited the room.
The gleam in Jax’s eyes was both familiar and utterly foreign to Dracchus. Macy and Jax had far surpassed the depth of the bonds shared by most mates long ago, and their connection seemed to strengthen with each passing day.
Dracchus couldn’t begin to guess what that felt like. He
adored Sarina and the other younglings, but what Jax and Macy shared was much different from anything the kraken had known before she entered their lives. Their relationship had sparked something, and more pairings had followed — Aymee and Arkon soon after, and then Rhea and Randall. Everyone around Dracchus was forming such bonds, it seemed. Building families.
Dracchus had no mate and did not share his den, but he recognized these relationships as something worth defending. As something that could strengthen their people and help them build a future in which they wouldn’t merely survive, but thrive.
“You are planning to find the new boat, are you not?” Jax asked, turning his head toward Dracchus.
“I am.”
“When are we leaving?”
“I will leave with a small party in the morning.”
Jax frowned.
“Your place, for now, is here,” Dracchus said. “You and Arkon have younglings and mates to protect, and the Facility is not safe for them with you away.”
Brows falling low, Jax scowled. “Kronus’s supporters have grown bold in their anger.”
“We cannot assume they have limits on what they might attempt, should we lower our guards.” Dracchus released a slow breath. These events had been set into motion when he pursued his suspicions more than a year ago and had discovered Jax involved with a human — Macy. They’d come to the Facility at his insistence to face the judgment of the kraken, and that had given rise to the human-opposed group led by Kronus.
Would Dracchus have done things differently, had he known what would follow?
It was a worrying question, the sort Arkon would undoubtedly contemplate for hours and hours. The lack of a clear answer only made it more troubling. If Dracchus had never made Macy come here, these connections, this growing family, would never have formed, but the divide amongst his people would never have opened.
Was the taste of this new lifestyle worth the current strife?
“What troubles you, Dracchus?”
“Everything,” Dracchus grumbled.
Is it worth it?
Yes. The kraken would rise from the conflict stronger than before, with a newfound camaraderie that would empower them to face the future.
At least he hoped they would.
“Many of our people look to you for leadership,” Jax said.
Dracchus shook his head and smiled despite his concerns. “It should be you to lead us, Wanderer. I never wanted to.”
“All the more reason you should. I’ve always been selfish in the pursuit of my own fulfillment, but you have ever put our people before yourself.”
“Kronus’s supporters believe I put humans before our people.”
“Kronus’s supporters could best serve our people by feeding themselves to a razorback,” Jax said. His skin rippled with crimson; the human-opposed group hadn’t been shy about threatening the humans living in the Facility, including Jax’s mate.
“That would be the easiest resolution,” Dracchus agreed, “but I do not want any of our people to come to harm. Kraken or human.”
“The more you speak, the more you support my belief that you should lead us.”
Dracchus grunted. He would do what was necessary, what was right, just as always, but leadership…surely there were kraken more capable than he for such a role. Kraken possessing swift minds, like Jax and Arkon, or the wisdom of experience, like the elder, Ector.
“Come,” Dracchus said. “Lets us catch up to your Macy. As close as the infirmary is, she should not be alone for long.”
They moved into the corridor together. Doors stood at regular intervals in either direction, all leading to rooms almost identical to the one they’d just left. Long ago, before the kraken had claimed the Facility as their own, these rooms had served as dens for the humans who’d built this place. The hallways had been empty and silent for generations but were now often filled with the laughter of younglings and the warm conversation of friends because humans had returned. Even with less than ten people dwelling here, this section of the Facility felt alive for the first time in Dracchus’s memory.
“How many will you take with you?” Jax asked.
“Myself and four others. Two are followers of Kronus.”
“And you trust them?”
“Not at all.” Dracchus slowed as they moved along the tunnel that led from the Cabins to the main structure, glancing at the dark water outside through one of the large windows. “But that will be two less to bother you here, and we will have them outnumbered.”
“Might as well consider it six-to-one, if they move against you.”
Dracchus smiled. “Sarina did say I am the strongest. I will be fine. More important that your mate and the younglings are safe.”
When they entered the infirmary, Macy lay atop one of the beds, and Aymee was examining her with a scanner — a strange device which cast light on a person and made their insides visible.
It gave Dracchus pause; he’d only seen Aymee use the scanners when people were injured or ill.
“What is wrong?” Jax hurried to Macy’s side. Sarina was curled against her mother, fast asleep.
“Jax! I wasn’t expecting you to come,” Macy said. “I said I’d see you later, in our den.”
“We just wanted to make sure you arrived safely.” He leaned down, studying the images produced by the scanner. “What is wrong, Macy?”
Dracchus approached the bed for a closer look, but he didn’t know enough about human insides to tell if anything was amiss.
“Nothing’s wrong, Jax,” Arkon said, watching over Aymee’s shoulder. Jace dozed in his arms.
Macy glanced at Aymee, who was grinning. “Well, I guess since you’re here…”
“Show him!” Arkon’s tentacles writhed on the floor, but he held his son steady.
“I was going to tell you tonight, after we were sure, but…” She moved a hand down her abdomen and pointed to something low on her pelvis.
Aymee manipulated a control, and an unseen speaker played a distinct sound — rapid thumps in time with the tiny, pulsing thing Macy was pointing at.
“What is… I do not understand. Why is her heartbeat so fast?” Jax asked.
“That,” Aymee said, “is the reason I am going to be looking into contraceptives.”
All three male kraken exchanged confused glances with one another.
“What are contraceptives?” Arkon asked.
It was unusual — and satisfying, if petty — to know there were words Arkon wasn’t familiar with.
Aymee smirked. “Something to prevent this from happening more often than we initially thought possible.”
“I’m pregnant.” Smiling widely, Macy framed the pulsing spot with her hands. “This is our baby.”
Jax leaned forward and tentatively reached toward the image. He placed the pads of his trembling fingers just below it, as though fearful of inflicting harm on the developing youngling.
Dracchus had no words; a warm, tingling feeling spread outward from his chest, numbing his mind with wonder. The ability to know with such surety was nothing short of amazing.
Jax pressed his forehead to Macy’s and they both closed their eyes.
Another pang struck Dracchus. Was it wrong for him to want what they had? To crave a mate and younglings of his own? Before Macy and Sarina, he’d never known the joy of interacting with younglings, had never imagined the thrill and pride of watching them learn and grow, of teaching them.
His mild resentment — his jealousy — was shameful, but it refused dismissal.
This moment belonged to Jax and Macy, and he would not allow his own longing to impede upon their joy.
He left quietly and encountered no one else as he exited the Facility. The relative silence of the ocean closed in around him. He usually found comfort in it, in the feel of water surrounding him, easing his movements, but now it only made him miss the animated conversations that took place when he was with everyone else.
He’d never yearned for co
mpanionship; he’d done his duty and mated with many females since reaching maturity, but he’d formed no attachments.
Though he recognized the value of such a change, he didn’t understand it.
Dracchus swam to the flooded building that held his den, illuminating his skin to light the dark corridors inside. He entered the room he’d claimed as his own years before. It was a familiar space, but now it seemed cold, empty, and uninviting. Lonely.
Growling, Dracchus cast aside his emotions. He needed to rest. Tomorrow’s search was about his people’s security, and it would require all his attention.
He couldn’t allow the hollow ache in his chest to distract him.
Chapter 3
The surface was lit with the vibrant orange of the approaching sunset when Vasil flared out his tentacles and flashed yellow to alert the others. Dracchus followed Vasil’s gestures to the dark shapes in the distance — three boats, moving in close formation.
At Dracchus’s signal, the kraken turned toward the boats and increased their depth. They gained on the vessels gradually as the sky bled from orange to red, pink, and violet.
The shrinking distance made one thing clear — the boat at the center was larger than the other two, larger than any watercraft Dracchus had ever seen.
He signed to his companions, warning them to remain cautious as they neared the boats. Despite its relatively low speed, the central craft left a massive wake, and the sound of it breaking through the water vibrated over Dracchus’s skin. He adjusted his pace to match the ships’ as his companions fell into place in his peripheral vision, two on each side.
The large boat had to be close to fifteen body-lengths from rear to front. Dracchus studied it closely. He wasn’t familiar with the materials used in its construction, but there was something different about this ship compared to the others. Its wood planks seemed smoother, fresher, lighter in color.
Were there different types of wood, or was this freshly built?
There were no nets or fishing lines trailing behind the boats, no bait in the water. That alone wasn’t alarming, but Macy had told Dracchus that the fishermen from her town only worked by day. Their relatively small vessels stood little chance of surviving a sudden storm after nightfall, even with the most experienced guides. Dozens of hunts had confirmed the information — the fishing boats always turned back toward The Watch by late afternoon.
Heart of the Deep Page 2