She stepped closer to her friend and looked down at the sleeping baby. He was the perfect blend of his mother and father — Aymee’s dark, curly hair and expressive, shapely brows, Arkon’s gray-blue skin and vibrant purple eyes. Macy lightly traced Jace’s brow with her fingertip. His face twitched in his sleep, and his nose scrunched as he turned toward Aymee.
“He’s beautiful,” Macy whispered, lowering her hand.
Aymee grinned. “We do make some pretty babies with those kraken, don’t we?”
Macy thought of her own daughter — of her gray skin, long brown hair, delicate features, and her curious, intelligent eyes, so much like Jax’s. She smiled. “Yeah, we do.”
Aymee’s features sobered. “But really, Mace. You okay? I saw your face in the glass, and well… You want to talk about it?”
That ominous feeling resurged, and Macy looked back toward the water. Her heart clenched. “It’s Jax.”
“What about Jax? What’d he do?”
“He’s just…not here, Aymee.” She glanced at her friend’s reflection as Aymee moved to stand beside her. “He’s been acting strange these last few days, almost distant, and he’s been coming home later and later. He hasn’t come home at all tonight.” Her throat tightened, making it difficult to speak the next words. “I’m…I’m afraid I’m losing him.”
“Losing him? Mace, all you have to do is look at Jax and know that he would never leave you. That male has eyes only for you.”
“Then where is he?” She turned toward Aymee, tears once more stinging her eyes. “He was called The Wanderer for a reason. He never stayed with a female, could never remain in one place for long, he was always traveling, pushing farther and farther out where no other kraken has gone. It’s who he is. Now…now he likely feels stuck here because of me.”
“Macy…” Aymee reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Macy’s ear. “It’s who he was. Before you.”
“But can people change, just like that? We’ve been together for a year and I…I’m afraid I’m losing him, Aymee. I love him so much, and the thought of him growing bored of this place, of him growing bored of me, kills me inside.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. Macy wiped them away with the back of her hand and whispered, “I can’t lose him.”
Aymee wrapped an arm around Macy’s shoulders and pulled her close. They tilted their heads together as they stared out into the ocean, simply taking comfort in each other’s presence. Macy sniffled quietly and blinked away the blur of tears.
“Jax loves you and Sarina, Mace,” Aymee said gently, breaking the silence. “He would never leave you. I know it with absolute certainty.”
“How can you know that?” Macy chuckled and shook her head as she pulled away. “He’s my mate, and even I don’t know that.”
“You do know”—Aymee settled her palm over Macy’s heart—“here. Stop thinking with just your head. You know you can get all kinds of messed up thoughts up there. Look at what the two of you have gone through to get where you are now, what he did just to save you, to have you.” She withdrew her hand and cradled Jace to her chest. “You know deep in your heart that Jax loves you and he would destroy this entire world just for you, Macy.”
Macy placed her own hand over her heart, feeling its thump against her palm. Its rhythm was so different from that of Jax’s three hearts. There were so many differences between her and Jax that she couldn’t even count them, but one thing had always been constant — they loved one another, and that love was deep and true despite everything else.
Aymee was right. Macy was getting too deep into her head, letting her doubt control her, letting it grow into fear. She needed to trust Jax as she always had. She needed to trust that he would never hurt her, would never leave her.
Macy smiled. “I love you, Aymee.”
Aymee grinned. “Feeling’s mutual. You were there for me when I was a hormonal mess, it’s only fair I’m here for you, too.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone cry in mourning over a fish dinner.”
Laughter burst from Aymee. She quickly pressed her lips together, stifling that laughter as Jace, brows drawn together, wriggled in her arms. After the baby had settled, she said, “That fish was alive once. Poor Arkon. He had no idea why I was crying so much or what he’d done wrong. He was frantic to make the tears stop.”
“Speaking of Arkon… Where is he? And why are you up so late? You should be sleeping while Jace sleeps.”
“Well, Jax isn’t the only one who hasn’t come home tonight.”
Macy’s eyes widened. “Do you think Arkon is with Jax?”
Aymee nodded. “They left together this morning.”
That constricting feeling in Macy’s chest eased, soothed by a spreading a sense of relief.
Aymee turned toward the entrance to the Cabins. “Come on, Macy. Let’s get some sleep. Standing here waiting for them is only going for torture us, and Jace will probably wake soon wanting to eat.”
Macy stepped away from the glass, falling into place beside Aymee as the two walked along the tunnel. “Thank you, Aymee.”
Aymee nudged Macy’s shoulder with her own. “Whatever’s going on with Jax right now, I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready.”
Macy nodded. As much as it hurt for there to be secrets between them, she knew Jax had a reason for it. She just…needed to be patient.
Chapter 3
Jax moved back from the cave wall, rear tentacles dipping into the cool, fresh water of the pool. He ignored its strange taste on his suction cups and looked up at his work, a frown tugging down the corners of his mouth.
“You are showing some improvement already,” Arkon said from his perch on the island at the center of the cavern. His voice echoed gently, mingling with the persistent sound of the nearby waterfall that fed into the pool.
Frown deepening, Jax backed farther away. His shadow, cast by the portable lights they’d hauled into the cavern, grew as he moved. He ran his gaze over his work. “I should have asked you to teach me weeks ago.”
“You only learned of this occasion days ago,” Arkon replied.
Jax could not help noticing every imperfection in his crude brushstrokes, every incorrect angle in his shapes, every stray drop of paint he’d inadvertently splattered or dripped on the walls and floor. Now he knew what Arkon had always felt upon studying his own work — that nothing was quite right, that he had failed to fulfill his potential, had failed to capture his vision.
Of course, it was still difficult for Jax to find any imperfections in the artwork Arkon produced. Everything Arkon had created seemed flawless, especially in comparison to Jax’s clumsy attempts today.
“It is not worthy of her,” Jax said, folding his arms across his chest. “She deserves only the best, and this—”
“It is your best.” Arkon’s voice was firm enough that Jax turned his head to look at the blue-gray kraken.
Arkon’s eyes were fixed upon Jax, his brows were low, and his hands were planted atop the bundled tentacles he’d curled in front of himself. “The meaning behind this work is clear, and Macy will understand its intent.”
Should I not have asked Arkon or Aymee to do this for me?
Jax clenched his jaw to prevent himself from giving that question voice. He already knew the answer. Skill level was not the important aspect of this. As Arkon had implied, intent was the key.
He turned away from the wall and dragged himself through the waist deep water. Once he was on that central patch of dry ground, he lowered himself beside Arkon. From his new vantage, his paintings looked more coherent, and their flaws were harder to notice. Perhaps this was a case that warranted one of those figures of speech Randall had mentioned a few days before — something about viewing a complete picture before passing judgment. But Jax had no interest in such an exercise.
“It all ties together nicely,” Arkon said. “If nothing else, your style is consistent.”
Jax chuckled. “You told me to focus on simple sh
apes, and that is what I did.”
It was strange seeing this place illuminated by artificial lights, just as it was strange to see paint on those walls. The light and color contrasted the dark patch of night sky visible through the opening in the ceiling. It seemed like only moments ago that Jax and Arkon had traveled here through an ocean sparkling beneath a bright morning sun, but that sun had long since set.
The tips of Jax’s tentacles curled and twisted restlessly. Whatever his own criticisms of his paintings, he could not deny his excitement. He was eager for this work to be done, eager to share it all with Macy, eager for her to enjoy what he had made so he could bask in that joy.
Arkon turned his attention toward Jax. “You are nearly done?”
“For today, I am done.”
Despite his excitement, there was an ache in Jax’s chest; he had spent much more time away from Macy and Sarina than he’d ever intended. He should have known that his inexperience would greatly prolong this task, and it was only one of several he needed to accomplish. “I will have much more to do tomorrow, but the painting should only occupy a little of that time.”
“Should you require anything more, Jax—”
Jax placed a hand on Arkon’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You have done more than enough, Arkon. I am sorry for delaying you so long.”
Arkon’s eyes flicked toward the night sky, and his skin darkened for an instant. “It is fine. When Aymee questions me, I will shift all the blame onto you. And your thanks are unnecessary, regardless. I’ve but provided paint and advice.”
“Both your paint and your advice have been helpful beyond words. I only hope this effort is worthwhile in the end.”
“It has been difficult for you,” Arkon said gently. “Beyond your artistic inadequacies, I mean.”
Jax dropped his hand from Arkon’s shoulder, revealing a smeared paint handprint.
Arkon frowned down at the handprint.
Jax smirked, but the conflicting jumble of emotions within him — heightened by a pang of guilt in his chest — caused the expression to quickly fade. “Yes, it has. I feel as though I am being torn apart inside with every moment I spend away from Macy and Sarina. My instincts war with one another. I long to be with them, but I also long to make them happy. I know my absence as of late has been affecting her. I have seen it in her eyes, heard it in her voice.
“I must be away to do this work that will bring her joy, but whenever I am away, I only cause her hurt. Is this one of your…paradoxes?”
“No, it is not. It is…” Arkon blew air through his siphons and shook his head. “It is beyond me to explain. Beyond me even to understand. It simply…is.”
Jax ran his gaze around the cavern again, this time focusing on everything but the paintings. Every stone, every object, every dangling vine. For a long while, this place had served as his sanctuary, his treasure trove, the one place he’d truly thought of as his. But none of that mattered as much as what it had become.
This was the first den he’d shared with Macy. This was where, for a little while, the whole world had ceased to exist, and all the problems of past and future had seemed far off and unimportant. There had only been the two of them.
“Perhaps that pain is merely the cost of love,” Arkon mused. His tentacles writhed over the stone beneath him.
“If so, I will gladly suffer that cost through all my days,” Jax said, “but I do not want my mate to suffer it, also.”
“Do you believe this endeavor will be worth the time you are putting into it?”
“Yes,” Jax replied after a few moments of silence. “I want her to know the fullness of my love for her. I want her to know that everything she deems important is important to me, as well, whether or not I understand it.”
“Then as always, Jax, I say may the currents carry you where you would go.”
Jax’s eyes settled on a blank section of the cave wall, a spot he’d planned to paint the next day. He smiled. Was this another of those metaphors? Something about the unknown of the future?
His guilt lingered, but it was not without fierce competition — excitement, eagerness, love. For most of his life, Jax had heard the call of the unknown, and he’d always followed it. The Facility, the only home the kraken people had ever known, had felt like a waypoint on a larger journey. He’d always returned to it out of some sense of duty and little more.
Now, there was nowhere else he would rather have been, because his place would forever be at his mate’s side.
This time spent apart was unpleasant, but it would make the time he and Macy spent together even more special. The two of them — especially Macy — had weathered far more demanding challenges than this.
But that was all the more reason to show her at every possible opportunity that, even when he was away, his love for her was boundless and unwavering.
“I no longer consider myself at the mercy of the currents,” Jax said, facing Arkon. “I know exactly where I am meant to be, and I will get there no matter what.”
Arkon grinned. “And I suppose I have learned that the stones falling as they will is perfectly natural regardless of what I desire.”
“Because you have what you desire, Arkon. And I have kept you from your mate and youngling for too long this day.”
“Again, that is what I shall tell Aymee should she question the length of my absence. You forced me to do it.”
Jax chuckled. “Now I understand. Let the stones fall as they will so you may be absolved of responsibility.”
Arkon rose and stretched his tentacles. “A sound plan, is it not?”
Jax pushed himself up as well. “It might be, save that we are both intelligent enough to know it does not work with human females.”
“According to Randall, it does not work with any females.”
Jax and Arkon switched off the portable lights, dove into the water, and swam through the submerged tunnel, using the natural glow from their bodies to guide the way. The night sky made the sea a black, hungry void, shrouding everything in darkness beyond the soft glows emitted by the two kraken.
But Jax knew the way instinctually even if he could not see, and it wasn’t long before he spied the Facility’s radiance, hazy and indistinct, in the distance. He and Arkon swam faster, and Jax’s anticipation grew as that light grew brighter and fuller. Each beat of his hearts brought him a little closer to Macy and Sarina.
The two kraken wasted no time in entering the building and racing down the corridors to reach the Cabins, where they both kept dens with their families.
After bidding one another good night, Jax and Arkon went to their own dens.
The door to Jax’s room slid open with a soft whoosh. The interior lights were turned low, but the light from the corridor spilled inside, falling across the lower half of the bed — and upon Macy’s form, covered in a blanket.
Jax crossed the threshold, closed the door, and moved to the bed. There was just enough light for him to see Macy and Sarina. The little one was curled up against her mother, and both their faces were untroubled in their slumber. The resemblance between the two was as strong as ever, especially in that moment.
The sight both warmed his hearts and made them ache. Seeing his females safe and unburdened by worry was something he would never tire of, but he’d missed the entire day. All the routines they’d developed over the last year concerning their meals, all those little interactions that filled their days, the nighttime ritual to settle Sarina down for sleep, holding Macy in his arms as she, too, drifted to sleep — he’d missed it all today.
As quietly as possible, he moved into the bathing room and closed the door. He showered, taking particular care in scrubbing away the paint from his hands, arms, and chest, and dried himself afterward. He was about to exit the small room when he noticed a flash of color in the mirror. He turned his head and glanced at his reflection only to find a smudge of paint at his temple.
Arkon was not exaggerating when he said it would get everywhere.
Jax scrubbed that last bit of paint off and left the bathing room. He allowed himself no delay before easing onto the bed beside Macy. The day had been long and uniquely tiring; he wanted only to hold his mate and rest.
With great care, he drew his mate — and Sarina along with her — into his embrace, holding her close with arms and tentacles. Her smell, taste, and warmth crashed over him, rousing heat in his blood and making his skin tingle.
She stirred briefly, releasing a soft moan and snuggling closer against him.
“I am sorry I have been gone,” he whispered. She did not reply. Pressing a kiss upon her brow, he continued in a low voice, “Know that I will always come back to you, my Macy. You are my home.”
Jax laid his head down, closed his eyes, and let his mate’s presence lull him to sleep.
Chapter 4
Jax’s arms tightened around Macy, and she clung to him, keeping her eyes shut even though she’d had Sam block her view through her mask quite a while before. She’d loved swimming with Jax since the first time he’d convinced her to go into the water. She still remembered how his arms had felt through her diving suit as he’d held her then, as he’d eased her into the water — as he’d helped her confront her deepest fears.
I will protect you, Macy. I will keep you safe. Trust me in this.
And she had trusted him, then and ever since. He’d shown her on that day that she would never again be alone, and it felt silly now to have lost sight of that. To have doubted.
Swimming with him like this — blinded to everything around her, as though she were lost in an abyss — was as strange as it was thrilling. She could sense the water flowing around her, but its sounds were distant and muted. The things she felt, like the thumping of Jax’s hearts and the solidness of his muscles beneath his soft skin, were much more immediate than any sounds.
She didn’t know where he was taking her or what he wanted to show her, but this feeling, this sense that Jax and Macy were all that existed, was a welcome one, if only for a little while.
The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 65