“I could take that as a challenge, female.” His voice vibrated through her belly, straight to her core. Her sex tightened as desire flooded her. “One that you cannot handle.”
Larkin stared up at him, confused by her body’s reaction. How could something — someone — that wasn’t entirely human affect her in such a manner? Despite the familiar structures of his face and torso, so much about him was alien. And, somehow, his dominating presence — the press of his lower body against hers, his arms caging her in, the sound of his voice, and the intensity in his eyes — was exciting.
She knew at that moment that any control she held over the situation existed only because he allowed it to. The realization should’ve been frightening, but deep down, in a part of herself she’d never acknowledged, it thrilled her.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. She raised her chin, keeping her eyes locked with his. “I can handle anything you got, kraken.”
His gaze dipped, sliding over her body with more heat than the nearby fire. Tentacles moved over the outsides of her legs, curling over her thighs, and his nostrils flared with a deep inhalation. He released the breath with a rumbling growl and smirked, giving her a brief glimpse of his pointed teeth.
“Perhaps you can, female.” He rolled aside, returning to his original position.
She laid there for a moment, quietly catching her breath.
What has gotten into me?
When she sat up, Dracchus offered her a pair of sticks with cooked meat on their ends as though nothing had happened.
Larkin took them and ate in silence, forcing her attention onto anything but Dracchus. All the while, she felt his gaze upon her, and the hollow ache between her legs only worsened.
Chapter 10
Larkin woke to the sound of waves against the shore. She rolled onto her back, opened her eyes, and turned her head. Dracchus’s place under the shelter was empty. Drawing in a deep breath, she sat up and stretched her arms over her head, scanning the campsite.
Dracchus was nowhere to be seen.
The fire had died out, leaving nothing but the charred, crumbled pieces of a log and pale ash. The vorix meat had made a good meal, especially after going a while without food, but it couldn’t have provided enough sustenance for the big kraken. At best, it had whetted his appetite.
He’d be back. She knew it with instinctual certainty, and she refused to think about it any deeper than that; she wasn’t ready to admit to herself that she wanted him back. Now.
Larkin grabbed her boots and pulled them on, groaning appreciatively as she wiggled her toes inside; her footwear was finally dry.
She drained two of the reeds to slake her thirst. The water was cool and clean, a welcome refreshment in the already warm jungle air. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she gathered the empty reeds and carried them into the jungle, heading toward the nearby stream, stopping briefly to empty her bladder along the way.
Crouching beside the stream, she filled the reeds one at a time, propping the full containers against a rock. She let her eyes wander as she worked.
Morning sunlight streamed through the canopy, shafts of it hitting the water to make it sparkle in small patches. Everything was full of life — the thick vegetation was varying shades of green and violet, with a few hints of red and blue scattered amidst it. Countless sounds filled the air, creating the rhythmless music from which she’d always drawn comfort. The jungle had been her favorite place as a little girl. She knew all the animal calls and had always been fascinated by the variety of wildlife on Halora.
Larkin had been ecstatic when her father had deemed her old enough to start learning about survival. She’d felt so big and proud following her brother and parents through the jungle, learning to spot trails, to make traps, to locate sources of water and which plants were safe to eat. At six years old, it had all seemed so huge and wondrous, and her parents seemed to know everything about all of it.
A pang of loss struck her chest. Larkin rubbed her breastbone, frowning. Her relationship with her father had been strained since they’d learned of Randall’s disappearance. Nicholas Laster had been in pain, but he refused to let Larkin in, choosing instead to turn his hurt into anger. That’s all that had fueled him over the last several months.
The pain in her chest intensified as she recalled their argument on the ship.
No matter what he’d done, he was her father. She didn’t love him any less, even though he’d lost his way.
Had he made it off the burning ship? Had he survived long enough to reach one of the other boats?
All Larkin could do was hope he was safe, just as she’d hoped for Randall.
She carried the armful of water-laden reeds back to camp, standing them in small holes she’d dug to prevent them from tipping over. That done, she busied herself by collecting wood and kindling for their fire. During her search, she found several piles of krull dung, and gathered them in large leaves; they would burn longer and cleaner than wood.
After collecting adequate fuel, she picked up the stick she’d used to kill the vorix and followed the stream toward the sea. When she finally stepped onto the beach, she tilted her head back and let the cool ocean breeze flow over her. Her skin was already sweat-dampened, her clothes already sticky, and she was grateful for the relief.
She scanned the shore as she walked along the soft, dry sand. Still no sign of Dracchus.
“Where the hell are you, kraken?”
The waves continued teasing the land, flowing over the sand and receding back in an endless game as old as time. It was a beautiful sight, and the constant sigh of the sea was surprisingly soothing. She’d been too distracted in The Watch to appreciate the scenery.
She climbed onto a large, flat rock, which stood about a meter over the sand and stretched into the water. Several depressions on the rock were still filled with seawater, and small sea creatures had sheltered in the many nooks and holes to await the high tide. Empty shells and the remains of Halorian lobsters were scattered amidst drying stalks of seaweed.
Larkin moved to the edge of the rock, kicked aside a broken shell, and sat down. Water rushed around the stone below, nearly flowing over her dangling feet. She drew her knife, laid her stick over her lap, and began sharpening the points of its fork end.
Her thoughts strayed to the large kraken as she worked. She could still recall his weight pressing lightly over her, the feel of his skin, the closeness of his thick arms, and the way his voice had dipped an octave when he spoke. She was getting wet just thinking about it.
“Ugh!” She squeezed her thighs together, but that only seemed to worsen her discomfort.
She glared out at the open water. How could she be attracted to him? He wasn’t human, and his kind had taken her brother and likely killed the other rangers.
But Dracchus had said Randall was betrayed by his men. If that was true, they’d deserved any punishment the kraken had inflicted…
She found herself glancing up from her task repeatedly, anticipating a glimpse of his dark, damp skin glistening in the sunlight as he rose from the surf.
Dracchus spread his tentacles wide, slowing his forward momentum. He’d spent half the day swimming along the coast, searching for a familiar feature by which to determine his current location. Despite the comforting embrace of the sea, it was too much time away from Larkin. She was tough and capable, and he no longer doubted her ability to survive in the jungle, but he did not trust land or the creatures dwelling upon it.
He scanned his surroundings. The coastal cliffs to his right gave way to a gentle, rocky slope at their base, which in turn flowed into patches of seagrass, towering stalks of seaweed, and large, colorful chunks of coral. He wasn’t far from their camp, and the abundance of life in this area would likely provide a meal with minimal effort. He’d not yet hit his physical limits, but lack of food pushed him closer that much faster.
He smiled as he sank toward the bottom. Larkin would want to cook anything he brought
back. Though it wasn’t his preference, he’d eat cooked meat without hesitation just for the opportunity to share her company.
Warm, gentle currents flowed around him, and he drifted into one, letting it carry him forward.
The feel of Larkin’s body and its increasing warmth beneath his had not faded from his mind since the night before, and his skin tingled with the remembrance. He’d nearly claimed her then and there — the perfume of her arousal, though faint, had swept over him and made him dizzy with lust.
Dracchus dropped out of the current, changed his skin to match the sand, and crept along the bottom.
Such distractions were unlike him. He’d always been able to disconnect himself from worries — even through the turmoil his people had faced over the last year — and focus on the task at hand. Food was a necessity. That meant setting aside everything else to fulfill the more pressing need.
He acknowledged all of this, understood it, but couldn’t shake Larkin from his thoughts.
Larkin’s brother had proven himself an excellent hunter and a trusted companion, and Dracchus had no doubt she would be the same. He longed to see her skill at work in his native environment. Female hunters went against the traditions of the kraken, but what did that matter? Human females were not like kraken females — they weren’t nearly as rare and weren’t designed to have difficulties reproducing. That didn’t make human females expendable, but one putting herself at risk would not endanger the existence of her species.
Larkin was a worthy mate. She’d not back down from any challenge, and she’d never accept a place in the Facility amongst the females and younglings even if he commanded it.
Dracchus turned slowly onto his back, spreading out his tentacles beneath him, and lay still. Gradually, the surrounding creatures seemed to decide the new mound of oddly-shaped sand wasn’t a threat.
Did humans ever lay in wait like this to ambush their prey? They seemed relatively clumsy and conspicuous in the water, so obviously out of place that Dracchus couldn’t imagine them using such tactics, even on land.
Then he recalled the silent ease with which Larkin had moved through the jungle, and he knew he was foolish to doubt their abilities in any way. Humans were nothing if not surprising.
Thoughts of her movement led to thoughts of her backside and legs, which in turn summoned images of her peeling her pants off to reveal her pale, lithe limbs. Dracchus longed to slide his tentacles over her bare flesh, to peel the scrap of cloth away from her slit and taste her there. His blood heated, pulsing into his shaft.
He clenched his jaw against a wave of desire and discomfort.
Only a massive surge of willpower forced his attention back to his surroundings. The thumping of his hearts had grown louder than the ever-present sound of water, and heat gathered low in his gut. He resisted the urge to dig his claws into the sand and thrash his tentacles restlessly, but his limbs itched with the need to move, to release some of his sudden tension.
Fish swam by above him — some long and sleek, some short with powerful tails, some with flexible growths protruding from their bodies, or reflective skin, or oversized mouths. The kraken had names for some, but many types weren’t important enough to warrant naming because they either weren’t a good source of food or weren’t a danger.
Humans seemed to name everything, regardless of importance. How did they avoid getting confused?
A large spinefish entered his field of vision, and he cast aside his other thoughts. The fish’s body was longer than Dracchus’s arm, and the spikes jutting from around its head were nearly half its body length. It would provide enough meat for he and Larkin to enjoy a filling meal together.
Dracchus tensed his muscles as the spinefish neared, its flat tail swishing from side to side with an easy rhythm. Predators large enough to prey upon these fish were low in number, and their long, hard spines deterred all but the most precise attacks.
The spinefish glided directly over Dracchus. He waited, watching for the vulnerable section behind its head.
Dracchus darted off the bottom. Surrounding fish scattered at the sudden burst of movement, but the spinefish was too close to flee. Two of Dracchus’s tentacles coiled around it just behind its head. Despite its thrashing, it could not break his hold, and the angle of its spines prevented it from inflicting any damage.
Without pausing, Dracchus drew the fish closer and jabbed a claw behind its skull. Its thrashing ended in a series of uneven spasms. When it was still, he snapped off each one of its long, bony spines, gathering them into a small bundle; Larkin might have use for them.
He continued his return trip.
Dracchus emerged from the water shortly after, carrying the spinefish by its mouth. The sun blazed directly overhead, marking midday. His search would have to resume tomorrow, and he’d need to push longer, farther, if he wanted to figure out where they were. But he didn’t want to leave her alone.
That he would even consider delaying was foolish. Because I wanted to be near you was no good reason for it. Larkin wanted to see Randall; her patience would only hold out for so long.
Dracchus’s self-control would only go so far, as well.
Besides, he needed to know what was happening in the Facility. Had Vasil warned them? Had Neo already tried something, forcing Jax and Arkon to defend mates and younglings? Dracchus cared about all the kraken, and he’d accepted Macy, Aymee, and Randall as his kind. As his family. He couldn’t bring himself to feel shame for holding those closest to him above all the rest.
As he moved up the beach in the direction of their camp, shouting from Larkin caught his attention.
He hurried toward her voice, rounding a bend to find her standing atop a flat rock. The tide splashed against the stone on three sides. She clutched her long stick, her gaze shifting between four slowly advancing prixxir.
They were full-grown beasts, slightly larger than Ikaros and longer than Larkin was tall, with thick, strong tails.
Ikaros had been a youngling when Randall began caring for him; he was fiercely protective of Randall and Melaina, but never showed aggression without provocation.
Dracchus doubted these prixxir had been provoked.
The prixxir produced undulating growls, and the foremost beast lunged, snapping its jaws near Larkin’s feet — only then did Dracchus see the pair of fish laid out on the rock before her. She took a step back and jabbed her stick at it. The beast scurried back into place beside its companions.
Passing the spinefish to a tentacle, Dracchus rushed forward and hauled himself onto the rock beside the pack of prixxir. The closest two spun about to face him, long whiskers flattening with uncertainty, but another charged at Larkin.
Without slowing, Dracchus swung his arm upward, catching the attacking prixxir in its side and heaving it off the rock. The beast chirruped and splashed into the incoming tide. Dracchus turned to face the others immediately. All three had assumed low stances, baring their teeth and growling, hind legs bunched as though ready to pounce.
Dracchus flared his skin red and roared, advancing toward the creatures.
The prixxir ducked their heads and scrambled off the rock. Dracchus watched as they swam back out to sea, eventually dipping beneath the waves and vanishing from sight.
“You’re quite fierce,” Larkin said from behind him.
He eased the tension in his muscles, reverted his skin to normal, and turned to face her. There was no fear in her expression.
Smirking, she tilted her head. “Had the humans seen you like that, they’d have pissed themselves.”
Dracchus grunted. “Yes, and then shot me anyway.”
Larkin winced. “Yeah, probably.” She shifted her gaze, staring in the direction the prixxir had gone. “Thanks for that.”
He nodded. “Prixxir do not normally come ashore during the day in search of food. Either they believed your catch to be an easy meal, or a larger predator frightened them out of the water.”
Larkin laughed as she bent down to ret
rieve her fish. “A larger predator definitely scared them into the water.”
The sound of her laughter caused warmth to bloom in his chest, and he smiled. Though they’d spent less than two days together, they were falling into an easy companionship he’d not experienced often in his life. Having his words turned around on him used to infuriate Dracchus, at least when he’d been able to recognize the mockery, but there was no malice in Larkin’s demeanor now.
His female was teasing him. He’d learned from the humans in the Facility that such could be a sign of affection.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, looking her over.
“No. You came in time. Any later and I might’ve been prixxir food.” She jumped down from the rock.
Dracchus followed her down. Prixxir preyed on small creatures — fish and hard-shells, mostly — but they were capable of inflicting significant damage when provoked. “They would have left when they got your catch,” he said.
“I went through a lot of trouble catching those fish, and I have a kraken to feed. They could have caught their own.”
He glanced at her as they moved toward the jungle.
I have a kraken to feed.
It was still a strange thing to Dracchus. He’d been a provider since he was old enough to go on his first hunt; it had been his duty to feed everyone else. And now this little human was attempting to provide for him. Kraken females did not hunt. A tangled mess of emotions rose in him, too chaotic, too raw, for him to sort. Should it hurt his pride, or make him proud of her?
He dismissed the question as more foolishness. His pride in her only increased with each passing moment. She put others before herself, and that was a quality Dracchus admired.
“I brought food, as well,” he said, bringing the spinefish forward. “I have a human to feed.”
Larkin grinned at him over her shoulder. “Looks like we’ll have full bellies tonight.”
Heart of the Deep Page 10