Heart of the Deep

by Tiffany Roberts

  “Dracchus—” Arkon began, but Dracchus silenced him with a look.

  “The time for diplomacy has passed. Words will no longer suffice, Arkon.”

  “He’s right,” Jax said, glancing down at Macy and Sarina. “Their hatred has pushed some of them too far. Kronus no longer has control, because even he is too moderate for their taste. Neo would have killed us all if he could have. Do we wait until one of them succeeds?”

  “One has tried,” Rhea said, “and we cannot allow it to continue.”

  “This is a big step to take, isn’t it?” Randall asked. “Killing your own…that’s a threshold you don’t get to return from.” He wore the pain of his experiences on his face, and Larkin’s heart ached for him.

  “All of this because you saved me,” Macy said, closing her eyes and laying her head on Jax’s shoulder.

  “I would do it again, given the choice. I have no regrets.” Jax placed a soft kiss atop her head.

  “And saving you may have saved our people,” Arkon said, taking Aymee’s hand. “Violence is the last thing I wish, but when they endanger our mates, our younglings… We cannot remain placid.”

  Larkin looked up at Dracchus. “I already said I would stand with you.”

  “There are many more of our people who would also side with you,” Rhea said. “The humans have helped our kind greatly. They have endangered themselves to defend us, to protect our younglings, and to provide for us. They are part of us, and have brought joy to our lives.”

  Dracchus lifted a hand and settled it along Larkin’s jaw, brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. Heat bloomed in her chest in response to the simple, tender touch.

  “We have all made our choices,” he said. “Now, the choice is for Kronus and his followers to make. I only wanted all of you to know what may come. To be prepared. I do not want any of you to come to harm.”

  “Are you all right, Dracchus?” Aymee asked.

  “I will be fine.” The confidence in Dracchus’s voice seemed in direct opposition to his wounds. Larkin knew the kraken could take a beating, but how much was too much for them? “Come, Larkin. Let us return to our den as we had intended.”

  “Uncle Drak!” Sarina called.

  He turned his head toward her, and a warm smile spread across his lips. He puffed his cheeks and blew air out of his siphons. Child mimicked him, flashing a bright smile afterward. Larkin’s chest felt suddenly, painfully hollow.

  “I need some rest, little one. We will play another time,” he said.

  They said their goodbyes and Larkin followed Dracchus into the hallway, watching him closely. His movements had taken on a stiffness she didn’t care for, and blood still seeped from several of his wounds.

  “You should have asked Aymee to look at those,” she said.

  Aymee was a doctor; why hadn’t she pressed the issue?

  “I will heal.” He opened the door to their room and shifted aside to allow her in first.

  “If you don’t bleed out first,” She stepped inside and turned to face him. “Most of those look like they need stitches.”

  He passed through the doorway and closed the door behind him. Larkin observed his breathing; his ribs expanded slowly, only to abruptly draw back in with twitch of his muscles, as though his wounds were being stretched too far.

  “We should get Aymee,” Larkin said, walking past him.

  Dracchus caught her arm, halting her before she reached the door. “No. She does not need to be troubled by this. Do what you can, and it will be enough.”

  “Give me something to shoot at and I’ll hit the target pretty much every time, but this...” She stared at one of the deeper gashes, which still oozed blood. “I’m not good at this.”

  “You need only stop the bleeding, so I do not soil our den. I will heal.” He drew her closer and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “I require only the attention of my mate.”

  Why does he have to say things like that?

  Larkin wanted to deny his claim, to give him all the reasons why she was a horrible choice, but the words lodged in her throat.

  She took his hand in hers and lowered it. “Sit down, and I’ll see what I can find in the bathroom.”

  He nodded, grunting softly as he released her and moved toward the table. Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but find some humor in him pausing in front of a chair and staring at it quizzically before he finally slid it aside and squatted on the floor.

  She entered the bathroom and rummaged through the cupboards beneath the sink. After pushing aside everyday toiletries — hair cleaner, shaving cream, razors, and various bottles — she found a still-sealed first aid kit. She set it on the sink and turned to gather as many washcloths as she could from the small closet.

  She returned to Dracchus with her arms full of supplies and set the items on the table beside him.

  “Are you sure about this?” She removed her belt and carefully set it, along with her knife and pistol, next to the first aid kit.

  Once again, he nodded.

  “Okay.” Larkin broke the seal on the first aid kit and opened the lid. She ran her gaze over the items inside; she’d never seen many of them, and several of the names on their packaging were foreign to her.

  There was no need to overcomplicate this. After a brief search, she plucked out a bottle of disinfectant, poured some of the liquid onto a washcloth, and faced Dracchus. Even in his crouch, he was taller than her.

  “I imagine they are in far worse shape than you,” she said as she applied the cloth to one of his wounds and gently wiped the blood away.

  He grunted, and his muscles twitched. “I was merciful. This time.”

  “Why do they hate us so much? I mean, I know why they hate me, but the others.”

  Dracchus shrugged. “I do not know. Arkon says they are threatened. Jax thinks they believe humans make us weak. We were all raised on that old hatred — humans were our enemy, since the birth of our people, and that could never change. It is not so easy a thing to let go.”

  Larkin steadied herself with a hand on his back and bent down to clean some of the larger gashes. She bit her lip as his muscles spasmed in response, but he didn’t make a sound.

  “But you let it go,” she said. “Jax and Arkon, too.”

  “When I first discovered Jax with Macy, I saw her as my enemy. But she never threatened any of us. Never moved against us in any way. She stood beside Jax through everything, and she saved Melaina from a razorback, nearly losing her life in the process.” He released a long, slow breath through his nostrils. “Why would an enemy risk herself for one of us?”

  “Because she was never an enemy to begin with.” Setting the cloth aside, Larkin picked up one of the tubes. The name written on its side was meaningless to her — she doubted she could even pronounce it — but the words Laceration Sealant written in smaller letters below told her all she needed to know. She looked from the tube to his wounds; the small amount of sealant wouldn’t go far, given the scope of the damage. “We’ve all made a mess of things.”

  “Another trait our people have in common,” he said and turned his head to look at her hand. “No more of those liquids. They sting.”

  Larkin smirked. “There’s another commonality. No matter how big they are, human and kraken men all whine when they’re hurt.”

  He furrowed his brow and lifted his arms, glancing at the gashes on his sides. “I am not whining. But should I choose to, I have earned the right.”

  She chuckled and shook her head, placing a hand on his arm to guide it back down. “It’s a joke. But I am going to use this on your shoulder.”

  Dracchus didn’t resist as she sealed the gouges on his shoulder, pinching them together with her fingers and squeezing the liquid over the cuts. She blew on them gently, and the sealant hardened within seconds.

  He rotated his arm at the shoulder. Despite the movement, the wounds remained sealed. “I can feel it there, though I cannot see it.”


  Larkin raised the tube and scanned the tiny print on the back. “It should dissolve once the wound heals.” She used the remaining sealant on a few of his other wounds, and then picked up a roll of bandages, pressing the end to his stomach. “Hold this here.”

  He pinned the material in place with two fingers as she wrapped it around his torso. Due to his size, she was forced to walk around him, passing the roll from one hand to the other as she looped it beneath his arms.

  Being so close, she couldn’t ignore the heat of his skin, and his scent soon replaced the metallic tang of blood.

  She cut the bandage and tied off the end. Taking a step back, she looked him over. The worst of his wounds were sealed or bandaged, but his face and head were splattered with blood.

  “All done, except…” She reached past him to pick up another cloth, splashing it with some disinfectant. “Bend your head down for me.”

  Without question, he sank lower and tipped his head forward, as though ceding power to her. Larkin smiled. It seemed unlikely that he assumed this position very often. She placed her hand on his jaw and turned his face to one side. Gently, she dabbed away the drying blood, thankfully finding no wounds beneath.

  Still, Larkin took her time, skimming her fingertips over his flesh to learn the feel of him. Moving closer, she slid her hand upward along his jaw until his siphon was nestled between her forefinger and thumb. She turned her face toward him and grazed his brow with her lips.

  Dracchus inhaled deeply. His siphon shifted gently against her fingers as he wrapped a tentacle around her ankle, working its tip into the leg of her jumpsuit.

  His touch sent a thrill through her. Dracchus was alien to her, but he wasn’t frightening or off-putting. He was pure male — confident, strong, and in control. She felt a powerful, instinctual pull toward him, had felt it even in the beginning, while he’d been a captive on the ship.

  And if she chose to accept whatever was growing between them, this male would be hers.

  Larkin focused on the feel of his tentacle caressing her ankle. She warred within herself; there was nothing wrong with fun, nothing wrong with pleasure, but he wasn’t interested in casual fucking. He wanted a mate. He wanted family. It would be so easy for Larkin to take what she wanted — him — but she could never give Dracchus what he wanted, no matter how much she yearned to.

  His hands fell to her hips, fingertips brushing her backside, and a fire ignited beneath her skin. Her core clenched as heat flooded her. Releasing a shaky breath, she closed her eyes. The cloth fell from her fingers as she smoothed her hand up his shoulder to cup the back of his neck.

  “I love the scent you make for me,” he growled, tightening his grip as he drew her closer. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to her neck. Her skin tingled where they touched.

  She knew in the back of her mind that she should’ve been shocked that he could smell her arousal, but it only turned her on more. She squeezed her thighs together and shifted as though it would alleviate the ache growing between them.

  “Dracchus…”

  His lips followed the line of her collarbone until he reached the other side of her neck, where he gently nipped. Driven by instinct, Larkin turned her face toward him and caught his mouth with hers. Their lips clashed in a flurry of passion, unable to get close enough to one another.

  His groan pulsed through her, pearling her nipples, as he lifted her off the floor and carried her to the bed. Larkin deepened the kiss and wrapped her legs around his torso, giving herself over to his touch, his taste, to him. He stole her breath, her essence, her soul, and returned it with part of his own. She drowned and lost herself within him.

  Dracchus laid her on the bed and followed her down without breaking the kiss, caging her with his arms. Her thighs spread wider to allow his body to settle between them. She welcomed his weight. His muscles were hard beneath velvet-soft flesh as her hands roamed over his shoulders and back. A tentacle slid up each of her legs, beneath her clothing, to coil around her calves and stroke the backs of her knees.

  She felt a prick of pain and tasted a hint of blood as one of his teeth graze her lip, but she didn’t care. It couldn’t compare to the desire coursing through her veins, which scalded her from inside out. Her jumpsuit scratched against her overly sensitive skin. She needed to feel him against her, to feel his flesh on hers, to eliminate every barrier between them.

  Dracchus reared back, breaking the kiss. Lips swollen and tingling, Larkin dropped her arms to either side of her head and stared up at him. He looked upon her with ravenous eyes. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he moved his hands to the front of her jumpsuit.

  He grasped the fabric and wrenched it apart, tearing the zipper open like it was made of paper. Cool air caressed her bared breasts, and Dracchus growled in approval. He wasted no time in removing the garment from her completely, shredding the fabric with his claws and peeling it off her arms and legs, tentacles sliding down to remove her shoes.

  The chill was fleeting; as Dracchus leaned down again, his heat flowed into her, flaring when he closed his mouth over her nipple. Larkin arched, pleasure shooting straight to her core. Her sex throbbed. She cupped his head with her hands as he sucked and teased her breasts.

  His tentacles slid higher, over her thighs, and slipped between their bodies to brush along her sex. Larkin inhaled sharply.

  Dracchus groaned. “I will taste you on my tongue, female, before I am maddened by your scent.”

  He moved down her body, trailing kisses along the way. When he reached the scars on her pelvis, Larkin suddenly went cold, instinctively covering them with her hands.

  “Don’t,” she rasped.

  He caught both her wrists in one hand and drew her arms away, looking up to meet her gaze. “They are part of you, and so they are beautiful.”

  He dipped his head and kissed them. “My brave—”

  His lips moved lower. “—strong—”

  Larkin shivered as his chin brushed over the hair between her legs.

  “—mate.”

  His mouth pressed against her sex, and his tongue ran over it from bottom to top; she nearly leapt out of her skin when it flicked her clit. Pleasure shot through her, and she released a throaty groan, letting her head fall back onto the bed. When he released her wrists, she dropped her arms to take handfuls of the bedding.

  Dracchus’s appreciative growl vibrated through her core. He twisted, moved his shoulders behind her thighs, and wrapped his arms around her legs, grasping her knees as he greedily lapped at her sex.

  She writhed in his hold, but he didn’t relent. Her moans turned into gasps, which became pleasured cries. She held nothing back.

  Soon, his hands moved up, leaving his tentacles to hold her legs parted. He covered her breasts with his palms, stroking and squeezing them as he made love to her with his mouth and tongue.

  Larkin shut her eyes and bit her lip as the sensation built within her. Her feet arched, toes digging into his back as her hips undulated beneath his mouth, mimicking the act of sex; she was desperate to reach that pivotal moment.

  Then he latched onto her clit and sucked.

  Stars burst behind her eyelids, and she screamed. Liquid heat flooded Larkin, and suddenly, Dracchus’s hands were under her, grabbing her backside and lifting her off the bed and against his face as he drank from her like he’d just crossed a desert without water. Every stroke of his tongue sent her higher and higher, and when she finally crested the peak of her euphoria, he brought her back down slowly, gently, his presence offering her a solid place to land.

  She lay there staring at the ceiling, limp and panting, a light sheen of perspiration coating her skin and dampening her hair. Dracchus gave her a final lick before he kissed the top of her sex and raised his head. He drew himself over her once again, licking her essence from his lips. It was such a naughty thing, but it sent a jolt of desire right back through her.

  No one had ever done that to her before. She’d never realized how intense
it could be, how good it could feel. Despite coming, she craved more, craved it now.

  “I will drink from you often.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her open sex and brought them to his mouth to lick clean. “As often as you make this scent for me.”

  Larkin licked her lips, staring at his mouth — a mouth full of sharp teeth that had been nothing but gentle as he brought her to climax. “That might be too often, even for you.”

  Especially after this. It’ll be all I think about.

  Dracchus grinned. “I accept your challenge, female.”

  He turned onto his back and pulled her into his arms. He inhaled deeply, then released a satisfied hum. When he did nothing more than hold her, Larkin frowned in confusion.

  “What…about you?” she asked awkwardly. Men usually did nothing without reciprocation, and considering what Dracchus had just done, she’d expected him to demand something in return.

  “I must rest so my wounds will heal. Tonight was for you.” He smoothed his palm down her arm, and his tentacles shifted, drawing the blanket over her before twining with her legs. “You gave more than you realize in return already.”

  “I did?” she asked, slowly slipping her arm around his chest. When she’d woken alone this morning — having gone to bed alone the night before — she’d found herself longing for his presence. She liked him beside her, holding her.

  Making her feel safe.

  “Yes. You have woken a new craving in me, and I will never be sated in my lust for your taste.”

  Larkin’s skin heated in a blush. She shouldn’t have been shocked by such blunt speech, not while living among men all her life, but the promise in Dracchus’s tone was beyond anything she’d ever heard. She squeezed her thighs together, her sex clenching with the memory of his mouth and tongue.

  As though reading her mind, Dracchus growled, low and deep in his chest. “Sleep. When you wake, it will be with my tongue between your thighs.”