Of course, Jax himself had likely swum these waters long before, and a short hunting trip was hardly pushing any limits, but it was a taste of his friend’s normal experience. Strangely, Arkon had never shared Jax’s thirst for exploration, despite his insatiable curiosity. It had taken Aymee to open him up to new possibilities, to enable him to view the world through different eyes.
Was this what Macy had meant when she spoke about finally feeling alive after being numb for so long?
He realized suddenly that he’d been swimming for some time — long enough to notice a change in the angle of the sunlight. It may have been a quarter of an hour, perhaps twice that, but it was too far from Aymee either way. He didn’t want her alone for long, especially after she woke; the Broken Cavern’s isolating, restrictive ambience would not ease her already strained emotions.
He was about to turn around when a flash of pure blue from up ahead caught his attention. As he moved, the light did, too — it was a reflection.
Arkon pushed on. When the source finally became apparent, he halted and stared in wonder.
A portion of the coastal cliffside had collapsed. The rubble — chunks of rock in all sizes, globs of dark mud, and dead plants from the surface — lay piled at the base of the cliff. The rockslide had torn open the stone to reveal hundreds of halorium shards embedded within. More pieces were mixed into the debris.
The halorium gave off its own glow, most pronounced where it was shadowed, but rays of sunlight still caught the edges of the shards to produce blue-tinged reflections.
Arkon swam closer. He’d seen halorium on the seafloor many times, usually in small clusters, but he’d never found so much all at once. The surrounding water hummed with the halorium’s collective energy. Though it was safe to handle according to both the knowledge passed down through generations of kraken and the human records in the Facility, its power was undeniable, especially in such a concentration.
His skin tingled, and waves of energy slowly worked over his body. This material, these gem-like shards, had driven the creation of Arkon’s people. He imagined the kraken of old working here, sifting through the rubble for tiny glowing bits and prying larger pieces from the cliffside, stowing it all in shielded containers for transport.
The kraken owed everything to halorium. Because of it, they existed. Because of it, their home was secure and largely functional.
And, having listened to the Computer’s accounts of Halorian history, he knew halorium was the main reason for Aymee’s presence, too. Humans were not likely to have colonized the planet were it not for the discovery of halorium.
Arkon tilted his head; the sea was in constant motion, even if that motion was not always apparent. The shafts of sunlight danced with the surface’s movement, and barely perceptible impurities whirled in the current, but something else had floated through his vision.
He focused his gaze on the water between the light, and wonder overcame him.
Tiny particles drifted between the shafts of light, each emitting its own pale blue glow, too faint to perceive in the direct sun. They floated up from the halorium shards by countless thousands, as innumerable as the stars in the night sky, and were swept landward by the current in flowing, twisting streams.
Lost in his curiosity, he followed their path. The particles spread as they moved farther from their source, making them difficult to track, but they eventually led to a stretch of pale beach. Arkon lifted his head above the surface and looked toward the shore.
With the sun shining on the sand, it was impossible to tell whether the particles persisted on land — until a cresting wave cast a shadow beneath itself at the perfect angle. For an instant, points of blue light glowed in the shadow. Then they were swallowed up by the water.
I must bring Aymee here and show her this.
The thought of Aymee reminded Arkon abruptly of his reasons for coming out here. He looked skyward. Based on the position of the sun, he’d been gone at least an hour, and he hadn’t even attempted to make a catch. Heat spread over his skin — disappointment, frustration, and worry gnawed at him. He had to hurry. It wasn’t fair to leave her alone for so long.
His mind raced as he dove under, mentally sorting the easiest prey to obtain without the aid of tools.
Arkon broke the surface in the sub pen and glanced up. With the sky having mostly cleared, sunlight poured through the hole in the ceiling, overpowering the closest man-made lights, many of which had come on after the power was restored. He’d paused that morning as he left to hunt and stared at the stained, worn walls and ceiling. Somehow, despite the brightness, the pen felt more desolate now than ever before.
Before the power had been restored, the ceiling and walls were always dominated by shadow, even when the sun was shining; it had granted the massive chamber an air of mystery as intriguing as it was ominous. The effect had created a certain beauty, allowing the sunlight and its reflections on the water to highlight some of the precise edges and lines while leaving everything else to the imagination.
It reminded him of what Aymee had said about the mind filling in the details; perhaps Arkon’s mental image was simply more appealing than the truth.
The artificial lights left nothing hidden — even the water was illuminated from within by lights in the walls and floor. The precision of this place’s construction was impressive, but apart from the painting on the wall, it seemed largely uninspired. Years of damage and wear only made it seem dreary and lonely.
He swam to the ladder and climbed up to the platform. Aymee was nowhere to be seen; was she still asleep?
After taking a few minutes to fill a container with seawater and store the single fish he’d caught inside — the fish was large enough to provide them both a single meal, at least — he went up the steps to the second level and entered the short hallway. The door at the end slid open with a groan after he punched in the number sequence.
He moved through the threshold and along the corridor, allowing his eyes to wander, and found himself comparing it to home — Pontus Alpha, as Captain Wright had called it. The interior of this place was cleaner, but the higher ceilings and concrete walls made it feel colder, even though the climate control systems kept the air comfortable. The contours and lines in the Facility were sleeker and smoother, which dulled the edge of heartless precision that seemed to have gone into constructing such locations.
He turned down one of the intersecting corridors and was heading toward the room they’d slept in when the door ahead slid open. Aymee emerged, wearing her diving suit with a mask tucked under her arm. Her long, curly hair was pulled back from her face; he’d never seen her wear it that way before. The suit accentuated her long, graceful limbs and molded itself to her every curve.
Arousal stirred within him, a dull heat in his lower abdomen that spread throughout his loins. His gaze fixed on the V between her legs. The heat intensified, and his shaft pulsed. He forced his eyes back up as she neared.
She smiled at him. Though the bruise on her cheek was already fading, its presence rekindled his anger; he’d seen her come to harm and had been unable to prevent it.
“How was your hunt?” she asked.
“It was not quite as fruitful as I had intended, but we will have some meat for today, at least.”
“Then it was a success.” She kissed his cheek and caught his hand as she walked past. He followed her lead. “Let’s go swimming. I want to try out the suit. I’ve already gone through the tutorial with Sam.”
Arkon’s gaze dipped. The suit cupped her swaying backside, leaving little to his imagination.
He fought a surprisingly strong urge to reach forward, clutch her hips, and draw her back against him.
“Macy never went into detail on everything these suits are capable of,” she said as she led him toward the submarine pen. “I can’t wait to try it out in the open sea.”
Her words reminded Arkon of the beauty he’d witnessed during his hunt. Aymee would have appreciated it immensely, but
there’d be future opportunities to take her.
“It is for the best that you learn its functions here, where the dangers are minimal.”
The door to the submarine pen opened and they moved through it. Aymee walked him to the railing and didn’t release his hand as she looked at him, smiling. “I suppose I should be honest and tell you that I’m not a strong swimmer.”
Arkon couldn’t help but smile back at her; the hint of guilt in her expression was endearing. “The suit is meant to help that. And I will be nearby the entire time.”
“I know.” She squeezed his hand and released it, peering over the rail. “Since the storm’s let up, I thought now would be good. The water is calm.”
“Perhaps that will lend itself well to a lesson. Even when the sea appears calm on the surface, there are currents running below, out of sight, and they will carry you away if you are not ready for them.” He gently took her wrist and raised it, indicating the white piece attached to the suit. “This will help you immensely, but you cannot allow yourself to grow complacent because of it.”
“I won’t.”
Arkon nodded. It required a surprising amount of willpower to stop himself from listing all the potential dangers; he was the one who’d said life was meaningless without risk, and there was no controlling the fickleness of chance.
“Come.” He led her down the steps to the lower platform.
“Macy said Sarina is already swimming.”
“She is. Kraken can essentially swim immediately following birth, though it is not the most graceful sight.”
“It’s amazing. Our newborns are helpless. It takes them months to get strong enough to move themselves around. When do kraken learn to walk? It is walking, isn’t it?”
Arkon glanced down at his tentacles. He’d never really thought about it before; walk was one of many words the kraken rarely used, as it had never seemed applicable to them. “Dragging may be more accurate. Because of the way my people typically handle the raising of our young, I have not spent much time with children until recently, so I cannot answer you with any certainty. I know only that it does not come as naturally to us as swimming, and it involves using our muscles in ways we are typically unused to. Our skeletal structure does not extend below our waists, so our stability outside the water is a matter of the musculature in our tentacles.”
They stopped half a body length from the edge of the platform. Aymee slipped her wrist from his grasp, set her mask down, then placed her hands on his sides from behind. Arkon stiffened, eyes widening.
“I never considered that you wouldn’t have bones in your tentacles,” she said thoughtfully. Her fingers slid toward his spine, pressing firmly. Though it wasn’t her flesh meeting his, it was still her touch, and it was enough to reignite the fire within him. She traced his spine first up then back down, past his last vertebrae. “That you stand and move like this on land is an amazing show of strength.”
Against his will, Arkon’s skin shifted toward violet. The same sort of fascination he so often felt was plain on her face and in her voice, but it was her closeness and the familiarity of her touch that caused his body to react so powerfully.
She flattened her hand and ran it along a tentacle. “I’ve seen you turn this color before, and red a few times. What does it mean?”
He released a long, slow breath. “Red is anger or aggression, though the nuanced meaning varies depending on the particular shade.”
“And violet?” She withdrew her hands and bent to collect her mask.
He dropped his gaze. “Embarrassment.”
Aymee’s face fell. “Oh.” She looked away from him, but not before he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I don’t think sometimes, and I let my curiosity get the better of me.”
“No.” Forcing his skin to its normal color, he lifted his head, settled his palms on her hips, and drew her closer. “You’ve no need to apologize. I am unused to such contact, but it is not uncomfortable.”
She pressed a hand against his chest, and he again wished it was her skin on his. “The kraken don’t touch?”
“We share a home, but most of us live alone. There have always been some conflicting instincts within my kind that push us to both exist as a tightknit society and satisfy a need for solitude. Many forms of physical contact can be taken as a challenge amongst the kraken...an invasion of the space we consider private.”
She tilted her head. “Do I challenge you?”
Arkon smiled. “In many ways.”
Aymee chuckled, sliding her hand to his shoulder.
“While Jax was in The Watch, I observed the humans working on the dock every day,” he said, leaning his head down to press his forehead to hers. “I saw them share touches, and the warmth between them, the familiarity...I wondered what that felt like. Part of me longed to know. Macy has taught me much about the expression of friendship through touch in the time since, has shown me how it can strengthen a bond between two people.”
“And when I touch you?”
He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, hands dipping to her backside. “When you touch me, I know I have had only the merest taste of what is possible, and I hunger for more.”
Aymee’s breath quickened, and she curled her fingers to keep from grabbing on and pulling him against her. This…this was a different Arkon. His touch was bold, confident. His words flowed through her, heightening her awareness of him, and her body craved more contact.
What had begun as fascination had grown into something deep and powerful. She’d been drawn to Arkon from the start, intrigued by the contradictory nature of his features — at once human and alien — but her curiosity had quickly extended beyond his appearance.
He’d become her friend. She could talk to him about anything, she related to his passions and doubts, and she trusted him unconditionally.
She also respected him and wouldn’t push toward anything he wasn’t ready for. No matter how much she wanted him, she would go slowly.
Aymee tilted her chin up and softly kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. His fingers tightened on her ass.
Lifting her head, she smiled up at him. “Let’s go swimming.”
She stepped away before he could react. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. His hands remained in place, as though still holding her rather than the empty air in which she’d stood a moment before.
Pulling up her hood, she tucked her hair beneath it and moved the mask into place. It automatically sealed, and a soft internal glow lit her face.
“Sam, could you turn the mask light off?” she asked. It blinked out.
She flashed Arkon a smile and walked toward the ladder, carefully lowering herself onto the top rung.
“In this particular instance,” Arkon said, moving to stand on the edge of the platform beside the ladder, “I think it is acceptable to forgo the usual caution.”
Without awaiting her reply, he leapt off the platform and hit the water with a splash.
Aymee laughed, watching him move underwater. “Easy to say when you live in the water.”
Facing forward, she took a deep breath and let go.
The water swallowed her, blinding her for a moment, and she waited fearfully for it to flood her mask.
“Your heart rate has accelerated,” Sam said. “Do you require assistance?”
She took a measured breath, then another. “No. I’m okay.”
Something curled around her waist. Aymee’s hand dropped to it as she was gently turned to face Arkon. She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
He shook his head and pointed to his ear.
“Oh. You can’t hear me.” She pointed up, and they surfaced together.
“How does it feel?” Arkon asked.
“Strange. I can feel the water, but not. It’s like there’s almost no resistance when I move, and it’s not even cold. It’s like…flying.”
His tentacles — save for the one around her wai
st — glided through the water around her as he kept himself afloat. “Macy has said much the same.”
“I bet she was absolutely thrilled the first time she used this.” She inhaled deeply. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“I will be with you the whole time.” Arkon released his hold on her.
She allowed herself to sink and gazed around her. Rows of lights embedded in the concrete walls and floor illuminated the water; several were inactive, and many were clouded with age or overgrown with sea life, but they granted a full view of the pen below the surface.
Her eyes were drawn to the massive chunks of stone that had fallen from the ceiling, which lay in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the ceiling. They — and the twisted remains of the walkway they’d crushed in their fall — were covered with small plants and immobile sea creatures in a variety of colors; bright yellows, rich reds and purples, deep blues and vibrant greens. Fish with iridescent scales swam in and out of the gaps in the debris, and spindly-legged creatures slowly walked over the rubble, feeding on the plants.
She swam to the mound of rubble, feeling like a flailing toddler as she moved, and sank until her feet touched the bottom. Reaching out, she touched one of the plants. It folded in on itself, and Aymee flinched away with a laugh. She tilted her head back. Rays of sunlight penetrated the water from above as though through imperfect glass — the light was bent, altered, and amplified, creating an ethereal glow.
Carefully climbing the rock, she followed one of the spindly-legged creatures until it ducked out of sight. A shadow passed over her. She glanced up to see Arkon drifting nearby, his eyes fixed on her and a warm smile upon his lips. She returned it.
She spent time asking Sam questions and exploring the suit’s features and capabilities. Any new displays were seamlessly introduced into her view through the mask — she could monitor depth, water temperature, pressure, currents and their speeds, and track living creatures, and she knew that was only scratching the surface.
The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 48