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Heart of the Deep (The Kraken Book 3)

Page 15

by Tiffany Roberts


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

  “Just live.” Macy glanced down at the hand over her midsection. “We can’t let fear rule us.”

  Larkin’s eyes widened. The woman was pregnant. She tightened her grip, forgetting she was holding Randall’s hand.

  Randall leaned closer, resting his shoulder against hers and tipping his head to settle atop her hair gently. “I’m sorry, Elle,” he whispered, and she knew he wasn’t apologizing for his behavior.

  She closed her eyes and drew his hand into her lap, taking it in both of hers.

  “We’ll let you guys catch up,” Aymee said.

  Larkin opened her eyes and returned Aymee’s smile.

  “It was nice meeting you, Larkin,” Macy said, standing up. “We’ll come visit again. If you need anything, just let us know.”

  Jax gathered Sarina and moved to Macy’s side.

  “Thank you. I would like that,” Larkin replied, meaning it. She’d spent little time in female company throughout her life, but despite her earlier unease, Macy and Aymee had been nothing but welcoming and kind.

  Dracchus looked between Larkin and Randall as the others filtered out of the room. “I will see them to their dens and return shortly.” His tone almost turned it into a question.

  Larkin nodded.

  “Are you okay, Elle?” Randall asked after Dracchus departed.

  “I am. I’m worried about Dad, but I’m all right.”

  “What’s going on between you and Dracchus?”

  Larkin frowned and drew away from Randall, turning her head to face him. “Did he do something to you?”

  “No, he didn’t do anything to me.” Randall leaned back, wearing a frown of his own while he studied her. “I want to know what he’s done to you. You’re my sister, Elle, and—”

  “I’m a grown woman.”

  “And I’m your older brother.”

  “And I love you,” she squeezed his hand again, “but you need to trust me, as much as I trust you.” She glanced down at their hands and swallowed. “Do you trust him?”

  Randall sighed after several seconds of reluctant silence. “With my life.”

  “Then you know that I’m safe. Everything else,” she smiled sweetly, “is none of your damn business.”

  He grinned and shook his head, eyes glistening. “Fuck, I missed you.”

  Tears prickled her own eyes, and she hugged him. “I missed you, too.”

  Randall returned the embrace. They clung to each other, and for a few moments, everything else faded away, leaving only Larkin’s relief and love for him. Finally, he pulled away — whether the hug had lasted for ten seconds or ten minutes, it was too brief — and offered her a smile.

  “I’m going to go find Rhea and Melaina. They’ll probably get back with Ikaros pretty soon, and he gets anxious when I’m not around.”

  “Okay. And Randall?”

  He stood, and she released his hand. “Yeah?”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Elle. Despite everything, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Dracchus was standing in the hallway when Randall opened the door, facing away from the room. The kraken turned to face the human.

  “I’m not mad at you,” Randall said, his voice deliberately measured, “but if you hurt her, I will fuck you up.”

  “Randall!” Larkin yelled.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder and then looked back at Dracchus, jabbing a finger at the kraken. “After she fucks you up, because she’s a grown woman. I’ll see you later, buddy.”

  Larkin covered her mouth with one hand to hide her mirth as Randall exited the room. That was not what she’d meant.

  Dracchus furrowed his brow, staring after Randall down the hallway before he finally entered the room. “What was that?”

  She lowered her hand; she’d contained her laughter, but couldn’t keep a broad grin from her face. “He’s being protective.”

  “But I already told him that I would protect you.”

  “He’s protecting me from you.”

  He tilted his head, nostrils flaring with a slow exhalation. “I have not done anything to harm you, Larkin.”

  “I know that. It’s…a big brother thing.” She stood and walked to the table, picking up one of the fruits Aymee and Macy had brought. The table was laden with food — fish, lobster, winefruit, naba, and daruk nuts — all harvested from either the jungle or the sea. “To Randall and our father, no man is worthy of having me.”

  Dracchus closed the distance between them, holding his gaze upon her. “That is for you to decide, female.”

  She turned toward him. “I seem to recall a certain kraken laying claim on me already.”

  “Because I know you will make the choice, in time.”

  Larkin smirked. “Are you so confident in that?”

  He stopped mere centimeters away from Larkin and ran his gaze over her slowly, without shame, devouring her with his eyes. Heat radiated from him, warming her suddenly sensitive skin. “Yes.”

  Larkin raised the winefruit to her lips as his low voice reverberated through her, making her core tighten with desire. Her heart sped, threatening to burst out of her chest, but she didn’t look away.

  Damn her, but she was convinced by his confidence, too.

  Dracchus paused beneath a flickering overhead light in the hallway, tilting his head back to look up at it. Though he’d never spent much time in this building before Macy and the other humans had come, he was familiar with which lights worked and which did not. This pulsing was the start of a new failure.

  How long before everything in the Facility stopped working? How long before this place, the only home his people had ever known, became little more than another dark, underwater cave?

  After they’d shared a meal, Dracchus had taken Larkin to visit Randall, Rhea, and Melaina. Ikaros’s presence had nearly given him pause — the memory of Larkin fending off a pack of prixxir was still fresh — but Dracchus had hunted alongside Randall and Ikaros for months. Larkin was safe with them.

  Reluctantly, Dracchus had left her with her brother, freeing himself to traverse the Facility. He greeted as many kraken as he could on his meandering path; they needed to know he’d returned, needed to know Kronus was in no position to claim dominance or leadership. Though most kraken operated independently, they had always relied upon one another for mutual survival, and often looked to the most capable males for guidance.

  Kronus could not be allowed that sort of influence.

  Hushed voices drifted to Dracchus from somewhere further along the corridor. He’d seen Vasil and Brexes already, and old Ector, and dozens of others, but a certain group had remained unaccounted for.

  Dracchus moved toward the voices, rounding a corner to follow another long corridor nearly to its end. He stopped in the doorway of a room that reminded him of the Infirmary — this chamber was much smaller and had no beds, but the cabinets, counters, and equipment were similar.

  Kronus and Neo were inside, accompanied by two of their supporters — a male named Orphus and the female, Leda.

  “We must, as quickly as possible!” Neo said.

  “That is not how this matter should be resolved,” Kronus warned. “They will continue—” His eyes darted to the doorway, and he scowled. “Dracchus.”

  Clenching his jaw, Dracchus entered the room.

  The other kraken turned to face him, Neo’s skin bleeding to crimson. Dracchus had faced open hostility many times, but the intensity in the air now was at a new level. He was outnumbered four-to-one.

  Part of him hoped they’d try.

  “You are not welcome here,” Kronus said.

  Neo growled. “Take your treacherous skin out—”

  “The humans are under my protection,” Dracchus said. Neo snapped his mouth shut. “Jax, Arkon, Melaina, Sarina, Jace, and all our people who disagree with you. They are all under my protection.”

  “You come to threaten us, Dracchus?” L
eda asked. Her half-lidded eyes moved over his body, lustful despite the situation.

  “Only to remind you. My patience has thinned as of late. You will not be afforded the courtesy of a threat, going forward.”

  “Siding with those humans over your own kind.” Kronus moved closer, catching Dracchus’s eyes. “Threatening your own people. What have you become?”

  “If you wish to fight, Kronus, the decision is yours,” Dracchus replied, “but you will fail. Change will not await your acceptance.”

  “This change will not be accepted. Humans have no place here, and they will leave no matter how hard you battle it.”

  “You do not need to make them your enemies, Kronus. I made that mistake already and warn you of its folly.”

  “After all they’ve done, you take their side?” Neo advanced, skin scintillating, his anger apparently having overpowered his fear. “You choose them over your own? They kept us in cages and beat us for hours each day. Starved us. Where has your pride gone, Dracchus, your backbone, that you defend those who brought you low?”

  Dracchus’s stomach twisted, and a heavy weight sank in his gut — built not of fear, or shame, but remorse. These were his people, but they would not be reasoned with. Kronus had been bested in numerous challenges and had yet to be deterred. At some point, this would escalate into true violence, something far worse than two kraken in a challenge. When that point came, Dracchus would not hesitate to put an end to it.

  Dracchus didn’t raise himself on his tentacles, didn’t draw in a deep breath and flex his muscles, didn’t even change his color. He just stared unflinchingly into Neo’s blazing eyes.

  “All the humans in the Facility are my people. Anyone who violates that and attempts to do them harm is no longer kraken to me and will be crushed.” Dracchus shifted his gaze to Kronus, then Orphus, and lastly Leda. The time for threats had indeed passed; this was a promise.

  The female smirked and approached him, arching her back to thrust her breasts forward. “You will not touch me, Dracchus, unless it is to mate me.” She extended an arm, trailing a finger over one of his shoulder stripes. “You would not risk the punishment for doing me harm and leave your human slits unprotected.”

  He caught her wrist and forced her hand away. “Should you make it necessary, Leda, Rhea would gladly put you in your place.”

  Leda’s expression darkened into a scowl. Dracchus allowed her to snatch her arm away.

  Despite their behavior, he didn’t want to hurt any of these kraken. Not yet. But he knew they were capable of treachery, and that at least some of the human-opposed kraken were willing to follow through with their threats.

  “We are not through,” Kronus growled.

  Neo remained close to Dracchus, lips tight. His shoulders heaved with strained breaths.

  “For your sake, you had better be.” Dracchus held Neo’s gaze, allowing the ensuing silence to emphasize his words, for several heartbeats.

  When no one offered a reply, Dracchus finally turned — secretly hoping they’d mistake his exposed back for a vulnerability and attack — and left the chamber.

  He heard no more voices as he made his way toward the Cabins.

  That Kronus and his followers were in a random, functionless room so close to the human dwellings was an unspoken threat, one they’d made frequently over the last year. Apart from the Mess, where the kraken met to organize hunts or for the rare occasions warranting a group discussion, few of the males spent time in this part of the Facility. The group’s only purpose here was to ensure the humans could not travel the halls safely.

  Randall and Rhea’s door was closed when Dracchus reached it. Rather than disturb them — he still wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with Randall — he went to the den he shared with Larkin.

  Inside, the bathroom door was closed, and the unmistakable pattering of water in the shower drifted from behind it.

  He moved to the bed and ran a tentacle over the sheets. Her scent lingered on them. He closed his eyes for a moment, casting everything aside to focus on the aroma. His attraction to her didn’t need to be understood, only accepted; it just was. With everything around him rapidly descending into chaos, he needed something simple, powerful, and pure to hold onto, and Larkin provided that.

  The water shut off. Dracchus turned toward the bathroom door, easing himself partly onto the bed, and waited.

  The door opened. Larkin emerged from the bathroom clad only in a towel, held in place by one of her hands. The cloth was wrapped around her torso, covering her from chest to mid-thigh, leaving tantalizing portions of her pale, brown-flecked skin exposed. Her hair hung wet and loose around her shoulders.

  She stopped short when she saw him. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”

  He couldn’t prevent himself from surveying her bare flesh. His blood heated, and his prior frustrations faded away, forgotten in a haze of desire. “So you came out to await me in your towel,” he said.

  Larkin coughed, her skin flushing. “Actually, I just forgot to grab some clothes.” She turned away from him and walked toward the dresser.

  He moved in the same direction, stopping behind her. He settled his hand over hers as she reached for the drawer and gently guided her to turn toward him. She tilted her head back and met his gaze.

  “Your skin has changed color,” he said, running the back of his finger lightly down her cheek, along the side of her neck, and over her shoulder. She shivered.

  Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. “Yours, too.”

  Dracchus hadn’t done so consciously, but she was correct — his skin had shifted to maroon, an open sign of his want. He hooked a claw onto the edge of her towel, where the fabric bridged the shallow between her breasts. “Are you pink beneath this, as well?”

  Her breath quickened, and her breasts strained against the towel. “Dracchus, what are you doing?”

  He slid a tentacle up Larkin’s bare leg. She flinched but didn’t withdraw. Easing the limb farther up, he coiled it around her thigh. A tremor ran through her, but there was no fear in her eyes. Her skin tasted clean and sweet and bore a hint of something more, something alluring. He leaned closer and inhaled, drawing in her intoxicating scent. Her arousal.

  “Seducing my mate,” he replied in a low rumble.

  She pressed a hand to his chest but didn’t shove him away. “I’m not your mate.”

  “You are,” he said, cupping her cheek and running the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, “you just have not admitted it yet.”

  Larkin kept her hand clasped over the towel, resisting the gentle pull of his claw. Her body heat increased. “Dracchus…”

  He leaned down, moving his mouth near her ear. “I ask nothing more than to see you. To touch you. To feel you.”

  She released a shaky breath and loosened her grip on the towel. The cloth unraveled, sliding away at Dracchus’s light tug, and pooled at her feet.

  Dracchus drew back and groaned deep in his chest as he lowered his gaze. His cock strained against his slit. Her skin was pale, as pale as the faces of the moons at night, sprinkled with those little brown spots on her chest, arms, and shoulders — they were as unique as the markings of any kraken. More so, perhaps, because they belonged to her.

  And she was his.

  Her breasts were small and high, tipped with pink nipples which hardened beneath his gaze. His eyes traveled down the smooth expanse of her stomach, over the jagged, puckered scars of her pelvis, to settle on the bright red hair between her legs.

  He slid his tentacle higher, curling its tip around the back of her thigh and over her hip to brush over the uppermost hairs on her pelvis. His suction cups sampled their first taste of her arousal. His mouth went suddenly dry; he craved a real taste of her on his tongue.

  Larkin gasped, eyes widening as she looked down. She dropped her hand from his chest, grasping his tentacle, while the other covered her scars.

  “You don’t want this, Dracchus,” she said, stepping back into
the dresser. “You don’t want me. Not really.”

  He followed her, keeping his tentacle on her thigh, and took hold of her arms. She struggled as he spread them apart, sliding his hands down to hers and intertwining their fingers as much as possible. “These are yours,” he said, brushing the tip of another tentacle across her scars, “and they are beautiful. Do not be ashamed of them. They are proof of your strength, your courage.”

  She stared up at him, pupils large, blue irises so bright they were nearly lost in the whites of her eyes.

  Dracchus lowered his head, leaning close enough that her nipples brushed against his chest, and brought his mouth close to hers. He longed to kiss her as he’d seen Jax and Arkon do with their mates, wanted to experience it for himself, but only with her, only with Larkin.

  “I’m human,” she said, as though it were a reason to stop, but there was no conviction in her words.

  He ran his tentacle over the hair between her legs to stroke her slit. Her hips jerked, and her lips parted as she emitted a soft cry.

  Dracchus groaned and released one of her hands to curl his fingers around the side of her neck, tipping her chin up with his thumb. “I want you, human.”

  He slanted his mouth over hers. Her lips yielded to him, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and he caressed them with his own — tentative, learning, craving more and more of her. When she looped her arms around his neck, he leaned forward and placed his hands on her sides. He trailed his palms down, cupped her backside, and squeezed the soft flesh, drawing her pelvis against his slit.

  The pressure within him built to new heights as she undulated her hips on his tentacle. The heat of her core flowed into him, her oils coated him, and her scent enveloped him, consuming his senses.

  She moved her mouth beneath his, and her tongue flicked against his lips, his teeth, his tongue. The kiss deepened with their mutual desire, matching Dracchus’s hunger and then amplifying it. He allowed her to take the lead before mimicking her actions, delving into her mouth with his own tongue.

  Larkin panted, her sounds rising steadily in pitch as Dracchus increased the speed of his tentacle over her sex. She clutched at him, dull nails biting into his back, and writhed in his hold. Her reactions pushed him onward as she relinquished control.

 

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