“So, you really live here?” she asked, peering into dark rooms through open doorways. “A place made by humans?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “It is fitting that we live in the place where our kind was created.”
Larkin’s steps faltered. “What? What do you mean created?”
Dracchus turned to face her, hands at the ready, but he didn’t reach for her. “My kind were created by humans long ago. Arkon can explain more, in terms beyond my understanding. But we should not delay here long.”
She frowned; her mind was still mulling over what he’d just said, but the warning in his tone couldn’t be ignored. “Why shouldn’t we delay?”
“Because some of my kind are not friendly to humans. Neo is especially hostile, after his time on your ship.”
Larkin scowled. “The one that tried to drown me.”
Dracchus nodded. “I will break him if he lays hands upon you again,” he said, and Larkin’s heart gave a funny little leap, “but I would rather avoid him altogether. You and I are in need of rest, and you’ll want to see Randall.”
“You’re taking me to him now?”
“Is that not what I told you I would do?”
“Yes! Let’s go then.” She flicked her hands, urging him onward.
He tilted his head, eyes dipping to her gesture, but he turned and continued on without comment.
Reinvigorated by the thought of seeing her brother, Larkin walked beside Dracchus. Her aches were temporarily relegated to the far reaches of her awareness, each step a bit easier than the one before it. They turned down a few intersecting corridors.
Even in her excitement, she picked out visual inconsistencies to use as markers in her mental map — a spot where something claw-like had scraped away the paint; a dim light in a hallway, third from the end; a missing section of grating in the floor grooves.
One of the turns lead them into a tunnel that was glass on all sides, allowing her to stare out into the ocean; all she could see were the other buildings, bathed in their artificial light, but her mind summoned images of cerulean water lit from overhead by the midday sun.
“This place is amazing,” she said, trailing her fingertips over the glass.
The entryway at the far end of the tunnel was marked CABINS; they passed through it and into another long hallway. Its contours were smoother, softer, and more comforting than the hallways before the tunnel. Doors lined both sides, identical to one another save for the numbers on their faces — odds on the left and evens on the right.
Dracchus led her through two similar hallways before finally stopping in front of a door. Anticipation and anxiousness filled her. He raised a hand, but Larkin caught his arm before he could knock. Frowning, he looked down at her.
“Do you think he’ll be happy to see me?” she asked quietly.
What if her coming here changed things for him? Dracchus had said Randall was happy here, and what if she disrupted the new life he’d made?
“He will be happy to see you.” The confidence with which he spoke eased her nerves.
After so long apart, after traveling so far and going through so much hardship just to learn if he were alive or dead, how could she be nervous to see her brother? Randall was her only true friend. The only family she had left, besides her father.
She released Dracchus’s wrist and stepped back.
Dracchus banged his fist on the door three times in quick succession, producing three dull thunks; there were doors in Fort Culver that made a similar sound when struck. Her father sometimes called them blast doors.
Were these strong enough to keep kraken out, or could Dracchus force his way through if he wanted to?
The door made a soft whoosh as it slid open. Larkin’s position kept her from seeing inside.
“Dracchus?”
Larkin’s heart skipped a beat; that was Randall’s voice. To hear it after a year of worry made her knees weak. Her brother was alive. He was here.
“You look like Ikaros just dragged you in off the beach,” Randall said. “Where the hell have you been? We thought you were captured ag—”
Larkin launched herself between them and threw her arms around Randall. The suddenness of it caught him off-guard, and he staggered backward.
“What the hell?” Randall steadied himself, placing his hands on her shoulders.
A pair of growls — one low and undulating, the other oddly human — sounded from somewhere behind him, but Larkin ignored them. She tightened her hold on him, pressing her face against his bare chest, failing to stem the flow of tears from her eyes.
“You’re alive.” The words clawed their way out of her tight, dry throat. She wanted to tell him that she’d known he was alive all along, that she’d never doubted it, but a small part of her had always feared him dead — a part that had become harder to ignore as time passed and their father grew increasingly obsessed with the search.
“Elle,” Randall choked out her name, wrapped her in a crushing embrace, and rested his cheek on her hair.
Larkin cried harder. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his hugs.
Something pressed against her leg, and Larkin glanced down to see a prixxir sniffing at her calf. She started, pulling her leg away from the beast. It lifted its head and met her gaze questioningly.
“Who is this?” asked a woman from behind Randall. There was an edge to her tone that, while not necessarily hostile, hinted at the potential for aggression.
Randall looked over his shoulder. “Rhea, this is my sister. This is Elle.”
Larkin peered behind Randall and her eyes widened in surprise. Rhea was a kraken.
Rhea returned Larkin’s stare, but curiosity replaced the threat in her gaze. Her features and frame were delicate compared to her male counterparts, belying the subtle muscle tone of her arms and abdomen, but Rhea’s sturdiness and strength were unmistakable. Larkin had no doubt this female kraken could easily overpower her.
Like Dracchus, Rhea had no visible hair.
And she was naked.
Her small, firm breasts were on display, but Larkin couldn’t discern any genitalia below her belly. Were her parts hidden, like Dracchus’s?
The female kraken approached. The motion of her tentacles, paired with her posture, created a surreally graceful image.
“Randall has told me much about you,” Rhea said, tilting her head.
“You are Elle?” came a second voice, softer, and more childlike. Another female kraken — a child, standing as high as Larkin’s chest — came out of hiding to join them. Her features were similar to Rhea’s, and her smile was warm despite being filled with sharp teeth.
Larkin looked into the room beyond them — to the rumpled bedding, the shirt draped over the back of a chair, the boots stored under the table. She released Randall and took a step back. “This is your home.”
Why did she feel so betrayed by that?
Randall looked at Rhea and the child before returning his attention to Larkin. His brow was furrowed. “Yeah, it is.”
“And you’re happy?”
“Despite everything that happened, yes. I am.” He took a step toward her. “Please, Elle, don’t look at me like that.”
Larkin retreated, bumping into the solid wall of flesh that was Dracchus, who’d entered the room behind her. She pressed her lips together and slowly released a breath through her nose. Her chest felt strange, tight, as though the words she couldn’t get out had lodged inside her, and the pressure behind them was rapidly building.
Why was she acting like this? She should be happy for him. Why was she spoiling this reunion?
Because I thought he was dead, but he’s been here all along, making a home. Making a family. A new family.
All at once, her exhaustion hit her. Her legs wobbled, her knees buckled, and only Dracchus’s hands curling around her arms kept her from collapsing. She leaned into him gratefully.
Randall frowned, expression darkening. “What’s going on?” he ask
ed, and the confusion in his voice was quickly laced with anger. “Why the fuck did you bring her here, Dracchus? With everything that’s going on, why here?”
Pain pierced her heart quick and sure, as true as any bullet. “What?”
He clenched his jaw and turned his head as though she’d slapped him. “That’s not what I mean, Elle.”
“There was nowhere else to go,” Dracchus replied.
“Don’t try to feed me that krullshit!” Randall advanced, eyes locked on Dracchus, as though he stood a chance against the kraken. He jabbed a finger toward the hallway. “They’ll want her blood, damnit! They already told the story. Elle’s the one that captured the three of you. Neo and Kronus would tear her apart at the first opportunity.”
“They will not touch her.” Dracchus’s rumbling voice vibrated through Larkin’s back. His hands tightened infinitesimally on her arms. “She is mine.”
All the breath left Larkin in a rush. She turned her head to stare up at Dracchus; had she heard him correctly? Had he just…claimed her?
“What do you mean she’s yours?” Randall demanded. His eyes rounded, and then his face fell into a furious scowl. “What the fuck did you do to my sister?”
Randall was close enough now that Larkin was able to extend her arm and press a hand to his chest, halting his approach.
“He hasn’t done anything!” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Larkin, this is—”
“I can barely stand, Randall. All of this is too much for me to take in right now. I just… I need to rest. To think.”
Randall clenched his jaw again, and his throat bobbed. Unmasked hurt gleamed in his eyes, but, as hard as it was to do, Larkin brushed it off. This wasn’t how she’d expected their reunion to go, and it was her fault. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change what had been said, but she wouldn’t stand here and let things get worse. Especially not when she wasn’t thinking clearly.
He searched her face, and for the first time seemed to realize the state she was in. She could only imagine — bags under her eyes, hair a tangled mess, blotches of red skin where she’d been sunburned.
Larkin slid her hand to his shoulder, brushing over a small patch of rough, raised skin. She looked down to see a circular scar.
“What happened?” She ran her gaze over his torso, finding a similar mark on his abdomen. “Was it true what Dracchus said?”
Randall looked at Dracchus and narrowed his eyes. “What did he say, that I was betrayed by my own men?”
“Cyrus did this?” she asked.
“He only pulled the trigger once, but yeah. He did this.”
Shock stole Larkin’s breath. She hadn’t wanted to believe what Dracchus had told her. She’d never cared for Cyrus Taylor — he’d always possessed a cruel streak — but he was a knowledgeable ranger and their father’s closest friend, and he’d been part of their lives for as long as she could remember.
“Why? Why would he do this?”
“We’ll talk about it after you get some rest,” Randall said, only then meeting her gaze. He took her hand and gently tugged her toward him. “You can take the bed, Elle.”
“She will share a den with me,” Dracchus said, holding her firm.
“Fuck that!” Randall exploded.
Rhea’s tentacle wrapped around Randall’s waist, drawing him back into her waiting arms.
“Be silent, human,” she said, her lips next to his ear. She looked from Randall to Larkin and Dracchus. Her expression was heavy with meaning that Larkin couldn’t decipher. “It is for a female to choose, is it not?”
Dracchus grunted, and Randall looked ready to tear out of Rhea’s hold and charge.
“I’ll be fine, Randall. We’ve shared a camp for the last few nights, and Dracchus hasn’t hurt me,” Larkin said.
“Elle—”
“I can take care of myself. You take care of your new family.”
He flinched. Somehow, Larkin kept a straight face, but inside, guilt twisted through her like barbed wire. He hadn’t deserved that.
Randall composed himself and looked up to Dracchus again. “You and I are going to have words, kraken.”
“We will, human,” Dracchus replied.
Rhea gently coaxed Randall back toward the bed as Dracchus steered Larkin into the hallway. The prixxir, who’d been sitting silently, chirruped. Larkin turned her head toward it. The kraken child was beside the creature, staring at Larkin with wide, curious, innocent eyes until the door closed.
Chapter 13
The room Dracchus had led Larkin into was set up like Randall’s — its bed was of similar size, the furniture stood in the same places, even the colors were the same. But this room felt cold. How long had it been since anyone lived in it? A hundred years, two hundred years? More? Despite its disuse, it was clean, and it was the nicest place she’d ever stayed, including her room back home.
She turned toward the soft swish of the door closing and got an eyeful of dark skin and muscle. She’d been aware of his presence behind her while she surveyed the room, but she hadn’t realized he was so close. Dracchus had become her living shadow.
Tilting her head back, she met his gaze. “Thank you. For bringing me here, and for the room.”
He offered a soft grunt in response and regarded her with a frown. She was beginning to understand that his grunts were a language all their own, but she hadn’t yet decoded their meanings.
Larkin shifted her weight to one leg as he stared. “I’m sure you’re ready to be back in your own bed, or whatever you sleep in, so, um, goodnight.”
“This is our den,” he replied.
“What?” Her brows creased. “I don’t think I—”
“This is our den.” Though he didn’t raise his voice, his tone left no room for argument.
“Okay, hold up,” she said, lifting her hands, palms toward him.
She will share a den with me.
Her tired mind hadn’t quite registered what Dracchus had meant when he said that to Randall. Had he been serious?
She is mine.
Oh shit, shit, shit!
What had she gotten herself into?
Larkin cleared her throat and retreated a step. “Is this your room? Cause if it is, I’ll gladly take another and leave you to it.”
“I know humans do not often speak plainly, but do you also have trouble understanding plain speech? This den belongs to both of us. We will stay here together.”
Larkin bristled. “I have no fucking trouble understanding, but maybe you should speak more plainly. Why do we need to share this room? There are a dozen other rooms in this hallway! I understand we shared a campsite, but haven’t I proven myself trustworthy yet?” She advanced toward Dracchus, glaring up at him. “Do you seriously think, after everything, that I am going to try anything to harm your people?”
He held her gaze, and a fire sparked in his amber eyes — but it wasn’t anger. “You will share this den with me because of the harm my people may try to inflict upon you,” he said evenly. “You are under my protection, and I can only fulfill my duty by being near. You, more than any of the humans here, have earned the hatred of some kraken.”
One of his tentacles slipped around her waist and drew her closer. “And you are mine, female. This is your place now.”
Larkin’s breath hitched at his words. The heat of his body seeped through her diving suit, and his tentacle was like a brand around her waist, deliciously hot and as sturdy as a shackle. She put her hands on his chest and pushed, tilting her upper body away from his. He didn’t give at all; she wasn’t going anywhere until he allowed it.
“What do you mean by yours?” she asked. “Am I your prisoner now?”
“No.” He cupped her jaw with one of his big hands and leaned closer. The fire in his eyes intensified, its heat scorching Larkin to her core. “You are my mate.”
She stared at him, her breath rapid and heart racing.
What right did he have to decide that?
“Fuck that!” She jerked her face away from his hand and pushed against his chest. “You can’t just do that! I’m not going to…to mate with you!”
“Why?” he asked, drawing back and narrowing his eyes. “I have seen the way you look at me. I have not hidden my interest in you.”
Larkin’s jaw gaped. “You’re serious, aren’t you? I thought you were just curious because I was human. Not that you wanted to… Fuck!” She turned her face away. Despite her anger, she couldn’t deny her body’s reactions to him, even now, and that only heightened her frustration.
He guided her face back toward him. She didn’t bother resisting; one of his fingers was probably stronger than her entire arm.
“You are a worthy mate,” he said. “My equal. Your strength is to be admired, but it is made into something amazing when paired with your compassion. You are a hunter, a fighter, a warrior, selfless and fearless, adaptable, unconquerable. But I must face that challenge. I will conquer you, or you will conquer me. Either way, I will have you.”
He brushed the pad of a finger along her jaw. His gaze held her, and she didn’t want to escape it; she wanted to sink into those amber depths and lose herself. “We will share this den, and I will protect you. That will be all for now. In time, I will persuade you to make your claim.”
He gently withdrew his tentacle from her waist and lowered his hand. “There are clothes in the dresser, and that room—” he pointed toward something behind her “—has fresh water, if you want to clean yourself.”
Larkin swallowed, unsure of what to say. She turned to look at the open doorway behind her. Suddenly, the entire world crashed down on her. Her body was heavy with exhaustion, her eyes swollen and sensitive from crying and strain, her chest raw and throat dry, but she couldn’t crawl into bed in her current state.
She glanced back at Dracchus. “This conversation is far from over.”
To her annoyance, he simply nodded. How could he seem so confident, so reasonable, about this? He’d just decided they were mates and that was supposed to be it?
Heart of the Deep (The Kraken Book 3) Page 13
