Heart of the Deep

by Tiffany Roberts

  Why would anyone need so many clothes?

  “Where did all this come from?” she asked, picking out a long, loose, shirt and a pair of pants.

  “From the humans who lived here before,” Dracchus replied.

  “Are there any still here?”

  “They were all killed by the kraken many generations ago.”

  Larkin raised her brows and looked at him. “All of them? You killed everyone?”

  “My ancestors.” His gaze was steady, and there wasn’t a hint of shame or remorse in his voice. “I cannot deny the past, but I have done what I can to prevent it from repeating.”

  “And I made it worse, haven’t I?” she asked, frowning. “Bringing me here… What will that do?”

  The muscles of his jaw ticked, and his shoulders sagged infinitesimally under some unseen burden. “It will continue to force my people to face the truth of our situation. Change is occurring. It is necessary. And it will not stop.”

  Larkin held the clothes against her chest as she stared at him. The truth of his words was discomforting, but she couldn’t deny it. Change was happening. The very existence of the kraken altered Halora in ways that no one fully understood; the decisions made now, the actions taken, would affect generations to come — human and kraken alike.

  As long as they didn’t kill each other off.

  “Our people have a lot in common, it seems. We thought you were monsters.” She ran her gaze over him slowly, and a spark ignited within her that she could not deny. Dracchus’s form was appealing to her. He was a kraken, yes, but he was still a man. “We weren’t wrong. Your kind are capable of being the monsters we imagined, but humans tend to forget we are, too.”

  After all, hadn’t a man her father trusted tried to murder Randall? She’d seen Cyrus’s cruelty emerge from time to time on hunts, but she’d never guessed he would direct it toward another human. Just more proof of how naturally humans took to deception, masking their malicious intent behind attractive, friendly faces. The kraken, on the other hand, bore sharp teeth, claws, and tentacles, but seemed — at least in her limited experience — far more honest about their intentions.

  Especially when they wanted to kill you.

  Dracchus had shown her respect, had fought one of his own to protect her, and had kept to his word. Everything she’d seen from the kraken spoke of an underlying humanity, for better or worse — humans weren’t all rainbows and sunshine, either.

  “Go and do as you must,” he said, nodding toward the washroom. “You need rest, as do I.”

  A flash of guilt flowed through her. Dracchus had pushed himself for days to find this place, bring her here, and reunite her with her brother. They could talk later.

  “Don’t wait for me,” she said gently.

  She entered the washroom and was stunned by what she found inside. She knew the fixtures — a toilet, a sink, and a shower — but they looked so different from everything she’d seen in Fort Culver and the other towns scattered across the mainland. This equipment was top-quality, built to last, with a sleekness that wasn’t present in the colonies topside. She’d never seen so much functional technology in one place.

  Closing the door, she set her clothes down beside the sink and peeled off the diving suit. As she kicked it aside, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and cringed. Her nose and cheeks were red from the sun, her freckles more pronounced, and her eyes pink and puffy. Her hair was a tangled mess of red frizz.

  Dracchus wanted her as a mate? After seeing a female kraken, Larkin couldn’t believe he’d find her attractive — especially now — when he could have one of his own kind.

  She opened the shower door and turned on the water. Taking a few quick breaths to prepare herself for the cold, she stepped under the showerhead. To her shock, the water was warm. She braced her arms on the wall and let the heat cascade over her body and ease her aches. She moaned appreciatively.

  I might not want to leave this place.

  Dracchus heard the sound of running water through the interior door as he moved deeper into the room. Pausing beside the table, he glanced down at the bowl of fruit that had been placed atop it. He plucked out a piece of fruit and studied it, running the pad of his thumb over the smooth-skinned bumps on its surface.

  Biting into the fruit would be a strange experience — strange enough to distract him from his confused thoughts. But the thought of eating plants was unappealing, despite his hunger, and he wouldn’t take food that had been set aside for Larkin.

  He returned the fruit to its place and released a measured breath through his siphons.

  Twisting to stare at the closed bathroom door, he focused on the sound made by the water, a constant stream broken by splashes that could only be her moving beneath it. His mind summoned the stolen glimpse he’d had of her naked body when she’d first put on the diving suit.

  What did she look like now, with water flowing over her bare skin? What would she feel like?

  Taste like?

  Arousal heated his blood, and his shaft twitched behind his slit. He was not behaving in a manner his people would approve. Females were meant to have the choice, and he was leaving no choice for Larkin — he’d have her, in the end, and it would only be by her choosing because he’d make himself the only option. Whatever guilt he might have felt for it was a small price to pay for claiming her.

  His thoughts shifted again, this time to the interaction between Larkin and Randall. They were family, and their affection for one another had been apparent, but they’d descended into arguing within moments of seeing one another.

  Why? Why was Dracchus’s female hurt and upset? Why had Randall stared at him with such intensity and challenge? Dracchus expected such from male kraken attempting to establish their place, but Randall’s competitiveness had been good-natured during his time here. He’d always been content so long as he could hunt, contribute, and spent ample time with Rhea, Melaina, and Ikaros.

  The Facility presented new dangers to Larkin, but that didn’t seem reason enough for Randall’s change in demeanor. All the humans living here were in constant danger — Larkin wasn’t unique in that, and Randall knew it better than anyone.

  Was it because of Dracchus’s claim on Larkin? That didn’t make sense; Randall already had a female of his own, and Larkin was his sister. Who better to keep her safe than Dracchus?

  The bathroom door opened. Larkin stepped out, eyes meeting Dracchus’s immediately. Her cheeks were flushed, and her wet hair hung around her shoulders, no longer a mass of tangles.

  His gaze dropped to her loose clothing, and disappointment rippled through Dracchus. He’d come to enjoy the form-fitting coverings she’d worn over the last few days. These were almost maddening, offering little hint of the body beneath. He found himself battling the urge to peel her new clothing off her one piece at a time.

  “Now I know it’s not just curiosity that has you staring at me,” Larkin said.

  “I never pretended that it was.” His eyes rose — slowly — to meet hers again.

  “I suppose not.” She looked away from him, but not before Dracchus caught a hint of uncertainty in her expression. Walking to the bed, she bent forward, pressed her hand atop the blanket, and smoothed her palm over it. “So where are you sleeping?”

  Dracchus lowered his eyes — her position pulled the fabric of her pants taut, accenting the curve of her backside. He gritted his teeth. His willpower would be tested this night. However tired he was, his body awakened when she was near, fueled by the possibilities offered by her anatomy.

  Kraken females could only be entered from the front, but that was not so for humans.

  He moved closer, balling his fists to keep from reaching for her. “There is room enough in the bed for both of us.”

  Larkin straightened, turning her head to look him over. “You sure about that?”

  Drawing back the blanket, threw herself onto the bed, spread her arms and legs wide, and moaned. The throaty, sensual sound nearly ha
d Dracchus spilling out of his slit.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again,” she said.

  Dracchus moved around to the far side of the bed. The short journey did nothing to cool his blood, but he could not act on his desires. Not yet. Dracchus was a hunter before all else, and he knew this prey would require ample time and patience to lure out. Brute force would not win this contest.

  Though it took only a few moments, Larkin’s breathing had slowed, and her eyes were closed by the time he reached the bed.

  Despite himself, he could appreciate the humor in the situation — females had thrown themselves at him in the past, had clung to him with insatiable appetites for mating. And now, the one female he had chosen had fallen asleep within moments of reclining.

  Carefully, Dracchus shifted Larkin’s limbs aside to make space for himself on the bed. He climbed atop it slowly. The material moved around him, adjusting its support to accommodate his weight. He was unused to the feeling; the sense of weightlessness afforded by water was by far more familiar and comforting. Once he was in place, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close.

  She groaned, eyes fluttering open sleepily, but she didn’t push him away. “What are you doing?” she mumbled.

  “Resting with my female,” he said, turning his body slightly toward her and coiling a tentacle around one of her calves. The tip ended at her ankle, where his suction cups lightly kissed her skin.

  “Hmm,” Larkin hummed as she drifted back to sleep.

  Her scent and taste had been altered by her shower, but the underlying aroma and flavor remained, the parts that were uniquely her. The pressure behind his slit increased as her warmth flowed into him. He appreciated the way the diving suit had sculpted to her body, but it hadn’t allowed him to feel her — her softness, her heat, the play of muscles beneath her skin.

  Exhaustion closed in gradually on his awareness, creating a dark, encroaching cloud at the edges of his vision. He was beginning to understand the risks that Jax and Arkon had taken with their mates. Now he knew a bond could form between two people that was worth facing any danger. He would fight to his end for the people he cared about…and somehow, for Larkin, he’d continue fighting beyond that.

  Chapter 14

  Larkin shifted uncomfortably on her chair, looking between Macy and Aymee — the missing women from The Watch. They weren’t acting like they’d been abducted by monsters. They were happy.

  That they’d chosen to stay here with the kraken — with their kraken mates — was clear by the sparkles of joy in their eyes and their easy laughter. These women were at home with one another, comfortable with their surroundings, and at ease with the kraken.

  It only highlighted Larkin’s discomfort; she didn’t belong here, with these people. Only Randall’s presence helped ground her.

  She hadn’t known what to expect when someone knocked on their door that morning. Was it Neo, come to make a second attempt on her life? Randall, ready to either apologize or rekindle their argument?

  Dracchus had opened the door to reveal a large group outside the door, holding plates of food — Macy and Aymee, Randall, Jax and Arkon, and two kraken children — and welcomed them all inside.

  Larkin had been shocked upon realizing the children possessed features she hadn’t seen on any other kraken thus far — hair and defined noses. She’d swung her gaze between the children and Macy and Aymee, and the resemblance, despite the alien cast of the little kraken’s features, was undeniable.

  When Dracchus had told her that human females had mated with kraken, she’d never imagined this was a possibility.

  Her startlement faded as she watched the children. Their laughter brightened the room, and their sweet smiles sent a bittersweet pang through Larkin’s heart. Despite their appearance, they were no different than human children — they played and giggled and bugged their parents like any other kids would. One in particular — Macy and Jax’s daughter, Sarina — clung to Dracchus like he was her whole world.

  Larkin would never have this. She’d never know the feeling of carrying a child, of feeling a new life growing within her. She’d never hear the laughter of her own child. That had been taken away from her.

  Her attention fell on Dracchus as he lifted Sarina high into the air. The little girl’s tentacles latched onto his wrists, and she cupped his face when he brought her close. She blew through her siphons and giggled when Dracchus did the same.

  Something cold closed around Larkin’s heart and squeezed. Dracchus adored Sarina, and he was so laid back and gentle with all the children.

  And he wants me to be his mate.

  His declaration still had her off-balance. She’d gone from hunting creatures she believed were monsters to saving them, and then to enjoying her time spent alone with one. Larkin and Dracchus had worked well together while camping on the edge of the jungle. He was often quiet, but when he spoke it was always with honesty and purpose. His directness could be unsettling, but she’d come to appreciate that he was open with her. He’d didn’t treat her any differently because she was a woman.

  He praised her, respected her, supported her.

  Despite all that, she was confused by her desire for him.

  Larkin’s gaze fell to Dracchus’s tentacles. This morning, she’d woken to them curled around her, with the tip of one having slipped up the bottom of her pants to touch the sensitive flesh behind her knee. She could barely recall climbing into bed, much less Dracchus joining her, but she’d somehow ended up encircled by his arms, tucked against his side. Being next to him had felt so…right.

  She’d slept with a few other men and had never much enjoyed being held by them afterwards. Those casual couplings, usually in the field, had only served one purpose — mutual release. The cuddling following those acts always seemed hollow. Sex didn’t necessitate a relationship, and they always parted with the dawn. Why pretend it was any more complicated than that?

  None of those experiences could compare to what was happening now. Dracchus wasn’t looking for simple release; he wanted her, and even if she thought he’d come to that decision much too quickly, she found comfort and security in his arms.

  Why was it different with him? Why hadn’t she felt this way toward anyone else, toward a human man?

  “Larkin?”

  She tore her gaze away from Dracchus to find Macy, Aymee, and Randall staring at her. Her cheeks heated. She wasn’t often caught off-guard. How long had she been staring at Dracchus?

  “Sorry, what was that?” she asked.

  “We heard that you helped the kraken escape,” Aymee said. “What changed your mind?”

  Larkin glanced at Randall, who sat on her right. “They weren’t the monsters they were made out to be, and they didn’t deserve what was being done to them.”

  Aymee smirked. “She’s quicker than you, Randall.”

  “Never said I was the smart one,” he replied, though his smile was forced. His eyes flicked toward Dracchus for an instant.

  “What do you mean, Aymee?” Larkin asked.

  Grinning, Aymee shifted her legs, smoothing the material of her skirt over them. “It took a lot of convincing to get Randall to see the kraken as people. He refused to take my word for it, though I can’t blame him for that.”

  Larkin tilted her head. “Dad wouldn’t say it was because I’m smarter. He’d blame my bleeding heart and call it a weakness.”

  “It’s not a weakness, Elle,” Randall said, clasping her hand. “Our father isn’t the best judge of character, anyway.”

  She frowned and squeezed her brother’s hand. They’d come close to losing Randall, but not by any kraken’s doing. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

  He dropped his gaze. “Shit’s been rough. I get it. I would’ve sent word somehow, if I had a way. But with everything that happened…” He shook his head, and the tip of his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.

  “We’re not prisoners,” Macy said, “but we can’t
risk going back. The kraken are family to us, and we can’t take the chance of exposing them, especially with all the hunters around.”

  “I see that now,” Larkin said, running her gaze over the kraken in the room. When she met Dracchus’s eyes, she quickly looked away, returning her attention to Randall. “It hurt at first, knowing you’ve been here this whole time, making another family, while Dad and I were searching, desperate to know if you were even alive…but I understand.”

  “I’ve thought about you every day, Elle,” Randall said. “Missed you every day, but at the same time, I wished that Jon would never make it back home. I knew if he did, Dad would come looking. And that he wouldn’t leave you behind.”

  He turned his head to look fully at Dracchus. “They killed everyone else. And I don’t feel much of anything for that, because those men threatened innocent people and supported Cyrus when he tried to murder me. Dracchus spared my life, but only because Aymee persuaded him to.”

  “You saved Jax,” Aymee said. “If you hadn’t shot that other man, Jax might’ve been killed.”

  Macy paled, settling a hand on her stomach as she looked at Jax; he met her gaze from his place on the floor, where he was playing with Jace, and frowned.

  “It was a mess,” Randall continued. “And Dracchus made it clear that if anyone else came looking, he would end them. I didn’t ever want you to come, Elle, and that’s why I got so upset last night. But now you’re here, and…”

  “And you’re the one who captured three male kraken,” Aymee said.

  “Some of these kraken hate us. Doesn’t matter what any of us have done to help them out. Just like some of our people will hate the kraken no matter what.” Randall turned back to Larkin. “But there’s always the threat of danger here, especially for you.”

  “What do we do now, then?” Larkin asked.