Kronus needed something else to occupy his mind. Night had not quite fallen, and it would feel all the longer if he couldn’t shift his thoughts away from Eva, if he couldn’t find peace or—
There was a knock at the door.
He drew himself upright abruptly, hearts booming. A warm tingling sensation spread across the surface of his skin. He stood for several moments with hands raised, ready to fight, before he realized his skin had shifted to an angry red.
The knock sounded again. Though loud in the relative quiet of his den, it conveyed no threat; there was an odd hesitance to it.
Kronus lowered his hands and reverted to his normal color as he moved to the door. Keeping his body back, he extended a tentacle and grasped the latch. He opened the door warily; he was unaccustomed to visitors, and he was completely taken aback by who stood outside.
Aymee’s dark eyes met his, and she smirked. “Surprised to see me, I take it?”
He glanced past her, ensuring that she was alone. “Why are you here?”
“You know, it’s usually customary to greet someone or invite them inside when they come to visit.”
Drawing in a deep breath, he willed his hearts to slow. “Hello. Why are you here?”
Aymee stared at him silently for a moment, her face void of expression, but then she snorted and broke into laughter. “Still haven’t forgiven me for punching you?”
Kronus’s brows dropped low, and he scowled. “I have no patience for games.” He shifted himself forward, grasped the door handle in one hand, and pushed the door closed.
Aymee stepped forward and pressed her hand against the door, stopping it before it shut completely. “Okay, I’m sorry. No messing with Kronus, got it. I came because I thought you might want to know that Eva woke up yesterday.”
A pulse of warmth flowed through him, speeding his hearts again. “And?”
“Are you going to open the door, or are we going to talk through it?”
Sighing, he backed away and pulled the door open again. Aymee stepped inside. Whatever playfulness had gleamed in her eyes a few moments before was gone now.
“Is she all right?” he asked, voice low.
“She’s…not so good. Mentally, that is.” She glanced around the room, then met his eyes again. “She doesn’t remember what happened.”
How could anything like that be so soon forgotten? Every instant of the battle in the Facility was emblazoned in his memory with chilling detail, and he somehow knew those memories would linger with him until he died, and the sea reclaimed him.
“Is that a…human condition?”
Aymee tilted her head. “It’s a survival thing. My dad and I read up on it last night in the files from the Facility. When someone — human or kraken — experiences something traumatic, the brain shifts into survival mode and focuses everything on making it out of the situation alive. That doesn’t leave much to make memories, and the memories it does keep usually get locked away as another means of protection. The mind can only take so much before it breaks.”
Did that mean Eva didn’t remember Kronus, either?
It does not matter whether she does or not.
But that didn’t prevent a sense of disappointment from spreading through him.
“So she is broken, then?” he asked.
“No, she’s not, but…” She looked away from him with a frown.
“But you fear she will be?”
“She has no support, no one to help her through this.”
“She has a mate, does she not?” he asked, recalling the male human who’d fled the water ahead of the other humans and had turned away from Eva when Kronus brought her ashore.
Aymee lifted a hand and ran her fingers through her curly hair. “Blake is struggling with issues of his own. I don’t think he’s in any state to help her heal right now…if he ever really was to begin with. He’s visited the clinic twice, and when he came yesterday, he left her in tears, and she wouldn’t tell me why.”
Kronus clenched his jaw and dropped his gaze to the floor. He could not understand a male acting that way toward a female. Kraken males did everything they could to protect and provide for their females, even knowing the female could cast them aside at any moment. But this human had fled. He was unworthy of having a mate. Unworthy of Eva.
The ends of Kronus’s tentacles swept back and forth across the floor; he stilled them, annoyed at both himself and the way this Blake had behaved.
Aymee sighed heavily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump this on you. I just wanted to let you know she’s awake. Physically, her recovery is proceeding astonishingly well, but the rest…” She tilted her head and regarded him. “How is your back? You haven’t been back to clinic to have it checked.”
“It no longer bothers me,” he replied. Once the danger had passed and the excitement had died out, the gashes on his back had been quite painful, but kraken healed much faster than humans.
Aymee nodded. “Good.” She moved back toward the door. “Thanks for letting me in.”
He drew in a breath, about to snap at her, but whatever harsh words he might’ve spoken died on his tongue. She’d done nothing to warrant cruelty. He met her gaze and offered her a nod instead.
She hesitated as she stepped out, glancing at him over her shoulder. “If…if you wanted to, you’re welcome to visit her at the clinic. She might not remember what happened, but you were the one who saved her life, and knowing that might help her a little.”
Aymee delayed for a moment longer, as though awaiting a response from Kronus. When he offered none, she slipped out and closed the door gently behind her.
Kronus turned away from the door and moved to the table, bracing his hands at two of the corners and dipping his head. He had no reason to visit Eva; it wasn’t his place, she wasn’t his problem. He’d done his part. If she didn’t remember him…it was all the better. He didn’t want her gratitude, didn’t want her attention, didn’t want—
His eyes fell on the carving with the broken leg, its featureless face staring up at him. Its expression could have conveyed anything — sorrow, fear, judgment, pain, loneliness, anger. His mind dredged up memories of that strange time after he’d been banished from his home, utterly alone in the deep. Doomed to death if he entered the Facility, doomed to death if he was found by the kraken who’d once supported him in his efforts to expel the humans.
There’d been no one for him then. No support, no camaraderie.
He could guess at how Eva felt.
Kronus bared his clenched teeth, squeezing the edges of the table.
It was not his place. It was not natural for him to yearn for another glimpse of her clear, bright eyes, or to wonder at the feel of her long, shimmering hair or her smooth, tanned skin. She had a male, and if that male was inadequate, it was up to her to cast him aside and find another. She’d made her choice, and if it had been a poor one…
And how many poor choices have I made? How many bad decisions trail behind me, and yet I remain? If I was afforded another chance, if I have been offered forgiveness, why should she deserve to suffer alone?
Perhaps I could be her male. Perhaps I could show her what it truly means to have a mate.
Kronus had never seen the appeal of humans. They were strange looking, small, and weak, ill-suited to thriving on a world like Halora. But Eva had caught his eye. There was a beauty to her, an appeal, that he could neither understand nor define. Something about her drew him. He’d glimpsed a strength in her — not of body, but of spirit. In her most terrified moments she’d tried only to help her companions. Even as she’d weakened from loss of blood, she’d tried to fight his hold, to go back for the people she cared about.
That was a selflessness to be admired regardless of her species.
He slid his hand over the surface of the table, brushing a finger against the wooden carving.
No, it wasn’t his place to go to Eva, but he wanted to.
Chapter 5
Eva stared down at the tr
ay of food in front of her. There were eggs, toast, and slices of winefruit; all the things she ate most mornings, the things she made for herself and Blake all the time. But she couldn’t bring herself to take a single bite.
“Eva, you need to eat something,” Aymee said, glancing up at her as she finished rebandaging Eva’s stump.
“I don’t want anything.”
Aymee sighed, picked up the booster gun, and placed it against Eva’s thigh. Eva held still through the injection. She was used to the shots. Their brief sting was nothing compared to the persistent pain in her leg, which was dulled by the medication but never really went away.
There was a soft knock on the door before it opened. Kent poked his head through and offered Eva a kind smile. She didn’t miss the pity in his eyes.
“Blake is here,” he said.
Eva’s heart leapt, and she stared at the door as though she could see through it.
He’s here! He’s here for me!
Aymee covered Eva’s legs with the blanket and stepped away from the bed to place the empty booster gun on the counter. “I’ll come back later, Eva.”
Kent withdrew from the room. Aymee followed, pausing in the doorway to glance back at Eva. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it and stepped into the hall.
Muffled voices drifted to her from the hallway. Though she couldn’t make out the words, she recognized Blake’s voice among them. She grasped fistfuls of the blanket to keep her hands from shaking.
Soon, the door opened wider, and Blake slipped through, closing it quietly behind him without turning toward her. He kept his back to her for a time, silent; a sense of dread filled Eva.
Nothing had changed since his visit the day before. She tightened her grip on the blanket, willing him to speak, to look at her.
“I had time to think,” he said, his voice shattering the silence like a sudden boom of thunder.
“To think about what?”
He turned to face her. His hair was neatly combed today, and his clothes looked freshly cleaned. He took a step toward her. Just one. The two meters between them might as well have been two million.
Tears stung Eva’s eyes. “Why are you doing this, Blake?”
His gaze dipped to her legs but did not rise to meet her eyes. Hands fisted at his sides, he inhaled deeply. “I can’t do this, Eva.”
“Do what?” Hurt and confusion warred within her. “You’re not doing anything!”
“Us!” he yelled, glaring at her.
Every bit of oxygen fled Eva. She stared at him — the man for whom she’d left behind everything she’d known to be with, who she’d joined as husband and wife — and didn’t recognize him. “W-What do you mean?”
“I just… Nothing is going to be the same after this, Eva. You’re…crippled. Our lives would be too different, and I’d have to take care for you all the time. That’s not the life we planned. Not the life I want. And I just…I can’t look at you anymore.”
Eva’s eyes widened, and ice slithered through her veins. Each of his words sank into her heart like a nail, driven hard by his tone, by the look in his eyes. And it was those last words that hurt the most — so much disgust had colored his voice as he’d spoken them.
“What…What do you mean you can’t look at me, Blake? What does that mean?”
“Damn it, Eva, I don’t have to explain—”
“Yes, you do! You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. You’re supposed to be here for me, not…not… What are you saying?”
He scowled and raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t stand to look at you, Eva. When I do, I just see the others. See…blood in the water. I see the woman you were. And I can’t deal with that. It’s too much, okay? It’s too much, and…”
“We can get through this, Blake. Together. Please,” she begged, “stop putting distance between us.”
“It’s too late, Eva. We’re done.”
“What?” she breathed. She must not have heard him right; she couldn’t believe those words could have come out of his mouth.
“We’re done,” he repeated more firmly. “Whatever life we’d have after this isn’t one I want. I’m not going to throw years away taking care of you. I need to be able to move on, to find my happiness. So, we’re done.”
“You mean you’re running away, like at the beach.” The words came unbidden, and it was only as Eva spoke them that she saw the fragment of a memory — Blake already halfway to the shore before anyone else had been able to react, Blake standing on the beach while she was surrounded by churning, bloody water.
Blake recoiled, his face instantly losing its color. Eva didn’t care. Fury burned within her.
“How dare you blame me for this and talk about how your life is ruined, how you need to find your happiness, when you were the one who ran away without looking back?” She trembled with hurt, betrayal, and anger. “I don’t remember much of what happened, Blake, but I know you left us out there. And I can forgive that, but if you run away now, if you run again…”
“There was nothing I could’ve done,” he said in a low voice, lips barely moving. “Nothing but die for no reason.”
Tears fell from her eyes. Had she ever meant anything to him, anything at all? “No reason? I wasn’t a reason? I’m not saying you should have died, but you didn’t even try. You left me! You left all of us, and you didn’t even hesitate!”
“That’s not fair, Eva!”
“Neither is anything you’ve said or done!” She threw her arm out toward her leg. “I lost my damned leg, Blake! How is that fair? Our friends are dead! Is that fair? And you told me the other day that it was my fault. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.”
He turned his face away from her, shoulders rising and falling with deep, harsh breaths. “Clearly you’re emotional right now. You’ll understand it’s best for both of us, eventually. I’ve already moved on. You’ll get there, too. There are a lot of other people in this world. I’ve…already met some.”
For a few moments, Eva’s chest and throat were too tight to produce a sound, too tight to draw in even the smallest breath. She couldn’t acknowledge what he’d said; she was still asleep, still having a nightmare. “Why are you being like this?”
Blake walked to the door, grasped the handle, and pulled it open. He paused before walking through, briefly pressed his lips into a tight line, and met her gaze. “I rescind my vows to you. We are joined no longer.”
Without awaiting a response, he left, not bothering to close the door.
Everything within Eva — the maelstrom of agony, loss, and rage — exploded. She screamed with everything she had. Swinging her arms, she knocked the tray of food away, sending it clattering to the floor, and screamed again, but it could not ease the hurt eating away at her heart and constricting her chest.
Kronus had just entered the clinic when Eva’s male, Blake, walked into the hallway from one of the rooms. The human’s eyes hardened, and his brows fell low as he met Kronus’s gaze.
A female’s ragged scream filled the corridor with agony and grief, making Kronus’s skin crawl. Blake flinched but did not look behind him. When something banged and clattered in a room down the hall, the man jumped and hurried past Kronus, giving the kraken a wide berth, darting out of the clinic as the female screamed again.
Kronus rushed down the short hallway and entered the room from which the screams had originated. A metallic tray lay overturned on the floor, with a trail of food scattered nearby. Eva was sitting up in bed, streams of tears glistening on her cheeks. The devastation in her expression reached into Kronus’s chest and clamped down on all three of his hearts at once.
She turned her face toward him and sucked in a sharp breath. Recognition lit in her bright blue eyes.
“You,” she rasped.
Kronus held her gaze, unsure of how to respond. His interactions with humans were infrequent and terse; he didn’t know how to decipher the nuances of their expressions and body language with any true accuracy
. Her tone implied she was unhappy to see him, but that seemed an oversimplification.
“Why did you have to save me?” she demanded, pulling herself closer to the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you just let me die, too?”
“It was too late to save the others,” he replied. “You were the only one who had a chance.”
“This is your fault!” she screamed. “I told you to help them. I begged you to! Why didn’t you save them?”
“They were already dead.” He nearly added and that was not my fault, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Could he have been faster? Could he at least have saved the female Eva had been trying to lead to shore? “You are not. I’ve no desire for your gratitude, but I believe it is a natural reaction to having one’s life saved.”
Rage flashed in her tear-filled eyes. “Get out! Get out of here you…monster!” She pointed to the door. “Leave!”
Kronus gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he decided to come here this morning, but this…this was not it. This supported Aymee’s assessment — Eva was in a bad place. A dark place.
A lonely, desperate, tortured place.
“I said get out!” she screeched. Leaning toward him as though to emphasize her words, she thrust a hand down to the railing, but her palm slipped. Her torso lurched over the bed rail, and she tumbled onto the floor, landing heavily.
Kronus moved to her without thought as she cried out in pain, spreading his tentacles to sink low beside her.
It was only then that he noticed the clean bandages wrapped around the stump of her left leg. Her right leg continued from the knee into a shapely calf and a dainty foot — nothing like the tentacles of his people, but oddly appealing — while the other simply ended.
And for humans, limbs did not grow back.
Wrenching sobs wracked her body. “I should have died with them.”
“But you did not,” Kronus said, slipping his arms beneath her.
She pounded a fist against his shoulder and flattened her other palm on his chest, pushing him. “Don’t touch me!”
Rising from the Depths Page 4