Hunter of the Tide

by Tiffany Roberts

  When he bit, she gasped, eyes flaring wide, and nearly crested from the shock of pleasure-pain. His tongue followed, soothing the spot. She grazed her claws over his back and pulled him closer.

  “Pressurization complete,” the computer said, but the words were muted through Rhea’s haze of lust.

  Randall slapped the button beside the interior door and didn’t break contact with Rhea as they moved through. They stumbled; Randall’s back hit the wall, and she fell against his chest, but he recovered quickly and guided her into another kiss.

  “A room,” Randall said against her mouth.

  Rhea growled in frustration, inwardly cursing humans and their need for privacy. But it was warranted now — if another female were to come upon them and so much as glance at Randall, Rhea would be tempted to gouge out that female’s eyes.

  She pulled away from him and hurried down the hallway, passing countless doors and wishing his den were closer.

  Randall abruptly grabbed her hand and tugged her into a darkened room. Pushing her against the wall, he pressed his body to hers. Rhea released a startled breath.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he rasped.

  Before she could reply, his mouth fell over hers again, and his hands slid up her sides to cover her breasts. Rhea arched into his touch with a moan. She grasped his arms, and her tentacles writhed over the floor as he caressed and pinched her nipples. Her slit parted, and she pressed her pelvis against his hardened cock, desperate to feel him inside her.

  As he kissed her, she tugged at his suit, growling against his lips when the material wouldn’t tear beneath her claws.

  “Remove this, human! Now!”

  He laughed and lifted a hand. The circular device on his chest glowed for a moment when his fingers brushed over it, and the suit loosened. Rhea wasted no time in shoving the material down, baring his arms and torso, using her tentacles to peel it past his waist and off his legs. She would relish his body another time. She’d already waited too long. Right now, she needed him.

  She wrapped her hand around his shaft the moment it sprang free. The humor faded from Randall’s expression, and he hissed through clenched teeth as he slammed a hand onto the wall behind her to brace himself. She brushed the pad of her thumb over the head of the hot, smooth column of flesh, spreading the moisture seeping from its tip.

  Rhea looked up and met his eyes, which were shrouded in shadow save for two pinpoints of reflected light from the hallway. Her slit opened fully. She guided the head of his cock to her sex and released him.

  He cupped the back of her head with his hand and held her gaze. His eyes burned with possession. “Now you are mine,” he said and thrust into her.

  Rhea shuddered. Her sex clenched around his shaft, pulling him deeper. He stretched her, filled her, completed her.

  “Ah, fuck!” Randall growled beside her ear.

  She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and held him close. Her fore tentacles slid up his legs, suction cups tasting his skin as they moved to curve over his backside, the tip of one brushing the base of his spine. He trembled, and his subtle vibrations transferred into her. She turned her head and nipped his ear.

  “Mate with me,” she whispered huskily.

  He drew his hips back, and the glide of his cock was exquisite, topped only when he thrust into her again. He repeated the motion again, and again, increasing his speed with each shove. His mouth captured hers in a devouring kiss as their bodies became physical chaos, a tangle of limbs, a mingling of desperate breaths. Rhea could scarce tell where she ended and Randall began.

  He pinched and stroked her nipple with one hand, keeping the other against the wall. He ravaged her mouth, her body, marking her as his inside and out.

  The ripples of sensation moving through her intensified to a wave of pleasure that flooded her core with heat. Her entire body tensed, and her sex fluttered, gripping him tighter.

  Randall’s head fell back, and the cords of his neck strained. His muscles locked as his thrusts faltered. The heat inside her suddenly roared into an inferno. He growled, the sound continuing even after his lips found hers again. Rhea lost sense of her surroundings, of herself, of everything; only the two of them remained, sharing this moment.

  Their connection continued as the aftershocks of her climax pulsed through her. She wasn’t willing to release him yet. Tentacles coiled around his waist and legs, she held him close, smiling as she nuzzled his cheek.

  “I ought to kick myself for waiting,” he said.

  Rhea chuckled, smile widening into a grin. “Some things are worth waiting for. Macy told me that. Besides, you can make it up to me.”

  “Yes, they are, and yes, I will.” He turned his head toward the door, and the diffused light from the hallway cast his face in a soft glow. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but… Rhea, will you share my den?”

  Rhea cupped his face with her hands. “Yes. I will share your den if you would have me for a mate.”

  “Your one and only,” he replied, settling his palms on the small of Rhea’s back to draw her closer. His cock slid deeper into her. “You’re mine, remember?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, dropping her hands to his shoulders.

  “Think we should head to our room before I start making it up to you?”

  “No.” She twisted, shoving him back against the wall without disconnecting their bodies. “You will do so here and now, human.”

  Randall laughed. “Gladly.”

  Chapter 8

  Movement at Randall’s feet stirred him from sleep. He fought through the weight of his grogginess to lift his head off the pillow to look at Rhea. She lay alongside him, head on his shoulder, limbs intertwined with his. The room was dark save for the dim glow of the light over the bathroom door, but his eyes had adjusted well enough to make out the basics of her features.

  He turned his attention toward the foot of the bed.

  Ikaros stood there with spine fin raised and whiskers back, staring toward the door. He released a long, low growl. Randall squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over them to force away some of their blurriness.

  When he opened them again, he swung his gaze to the doorway. A large, dark shape blocked it from view.

  A moving shape.

  Randall jolted up into a sitting position, disentangling his legs from Rhea’s tentacles and swinging them over the side of the bed. At the corner of his vision, Ikaros leapt off the bed, hurtling toward the dark figure.

  Rhea woke with a startled sound as Randall grabbed his pistol from the nightstand. The dark figure snarled and spat a curse; the deep voice could only belong to a male kraken. Gripping his weapon in both hands, Randall spun toward the male.

  “Lights on,” he said. The overhead light blazed to life. He squinted against the glare for the second it took his eyes to adjust.

  Ikaros yelped as the kraken tore him off and hurled him across the room. Randall recognized the kraken — Volk, the one who’d come on to Rhea that day in the mess hall.

  “Ikaros!” Melaina cried from her corner.

  “Stay where you are, Melaina!” Rhea yelled. She was already off the bed, standing between the male kraken and her daughter.

  Volk bared his teeth. Fresh scratches and small bite wounds oozed blood on his chest and face, almost indiscernible from his crimson skin, and his furious eyes were focused on Randall.

  There were a hundred reasons for and against shooting. Randall didn’t have time to consider any of them before the kraken lunged.

  Randall fired a single shot. The boom dominated the room, as deafening as thunder in the small space, and then the pistol was knocked out of his hold by Volk’s backhand swing. The male kraken’s other arm followed, hitting Randall in the chest.

  It felt like he’d been charged by a full-grown krull. The breath burst from his lungs as he was flung backward. His legs hit the side of the bed, and he fell atop it on his back.

  The lights inside the room flashed, accompanied by a bl
aring alarm.

  “Firearms discharged in Cabins Hall C, room six,” the Computer announced. “All active security personnel be advised, firearms discharged.”

  Gulping for air, Randall twisted, looking for the pistol, but Volk was on him too quickly. The kraken slashed downward with his claws, and Randall shifted his torso, narrowly avoiding the blow. Volk’s eyes were like twin infernos. Blood trickled from a bullet hole on his abdomen.

  Volk put his hands around Randall’s throat and leaned his immense weight forward. The bed groaned, as though making up for Randall’s current inability to make a sound. His throat would be crushed under the strength of those hands. As his vision blurred, Randall desperately jabbed a fist at the wound on Volk’s abdomen.

  The kraken grunted and pushed Randall further down. The bedding covered Randall’s ears, muffling the sound of the alarms. After two more blows, Randall pressed his fingers into the hole, raking at the slick, torn flesh inside with his nails.

  Roaring in pain, Volk lifted Randall off the bed and hurled him aside.

  Randall bounced off the other side and hit the floor hard, face-first.

  “Randall!” Melaina called.

  Head spinning, he pushed himself up off the floor and looked to the child. She remained huddled in the corner on her little pallet, eyes wide and fearful, with Ikaros clutched in her arms. He braced an arm on the mattress and drew himself onto his knees.

  The bed creaked as Volk moved over it, approaching Randall. “No human will have our fem—”

  His words were choked off as Rhea released a shriek so full of fury that Randall’s blood ran cold and launched herself at Volk.

  Her momentum slammed the male kraken into the wall. In an instant, they became a writhing mass of tentacles and slashing claws, spraying blood onto the bedding beneath them.

  There was no doubt that Volk was larger and stronger than Rhea, but her ferocity seemed to have tipped the balance in her favor — at least for now.

  Sucking in a ragged breath that made his ribs hurt more, Randall turned his attention to the floor, scanning for the pistol. If he jumped into the fray, he’d be torn to shreds. He could only help her if he was armed. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat almost as loud as the gunshot had been and yet barely audible over the alarms.

  How long before Volk overpowered her?

  Movement from his peripheral vision caused Randall to jerk to the side, ready to mount whatever defense he was able.

  Melaina stared up at him with large eyes. She lifted her hands, the pistol resting on her flattened palms.

  Randall’s sigh of relief was almost as painful as his deep inhalation a moment before. He accepted the pistol from her and, somehow, managed a smile. “Go back to Ikaros, okay?”

  She nodded and scurried off.

  Randall turned back to the fight, and his heart skipped a beat.

  The battling kraken had tumbled off the bed. Volk was poised over Rhea, hands wrapped around her neck and tentacles restraining her limbs. Her thrashing seemed unable to break his hold. Crimson trickled from numerous cuts and scratches on her skin; Volk sported at least twice as many wounds, including a bullet hole on his lower back — an exit wound.

  He was going to kill her.

  “You betray us all by choosing our enemies over your own kind!” Volk said.

  Rhea snarled and renewed her struggles.

  Randall rounded the bed and pressed the barrel of the pistol to the base of Volk’s skull. The kraken stiffened.

  “Get the fuck off her,” Randall commanded. “Now.”

  The male kraken didn’t move, but Randall felt the intention, felt the unseen coiling of Volk’s muscles.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Randall said. “You’re fast. But I guarantee you’re not faster than my trigger finger. Not in this situation.”

  “You are not worthy of her. You are weak. You are filth.”

  “And you’re dumber than a krull in heat, but I didn’t hold that against you. What she deems worthy isn’t your business, whether you can see past your prejudices or not.”

  Volk growled just as the door opened. Jax and Arkon rushed inside, hesitating for only an instant before they moved into action. Within a few seconds, they’d separated Volk from Rhea, and Jax forced Volk onto the floor face-down, restraining him with arms and tentacles.

  “Find Dracchus,” Jax said to Arkon.

  Arkon nodded and turned backed toward the exit, coming to an abrupt halt. Macy and Aymee stood just outside the doorway.

  “We told you to remain within the room!” Arkon said.

  “Are they okay?” Macy asked, peering past the kraken. “Rhea? Melaina?”

  Rhea rose, eyes narrowed on Volk, lips pulled back in distaste. “I am well,” she replied without looking away from the male.

  “Stay back,” Arkon said to Macy and Aymee. He pressed a button beside the door, activating a holoscreen, and flitted through several options. After a few moments, the alarms turned off and the lights reverted to normal.

  “Security alert in Cabins Hall C, room six has been cleared,” the computer declared cheerfully. “Please resume your normal duties.”

  With a final frown for Aymee and Macy, Arkon left.

  “Go back to Sarina, Macy,” Jax said, “and lock the door.”

  Macy hesitated, gaze shifting to Rhea and Randall before settling on Jax. “Be careful.”

  Jax nodded to her, and for an instant, Randall saw worry flicker over the kraken’s features.

  She disappeared into the hallway.

  Randall closed the remaining distance between himself and Rhea, pistol dangling in one hand; Jax’s prowess wasn’t enough to convince Randall to put his weapon down. His chest throbbed, his throat burned, and the shallowest of breaths caused a sharp ache, but his only concern was for Rhea. Her skin had returned to its normal gray, making her numerous cuts and the crimson splattered over her stand out even more.

  “Are you really okay?” he asked.

  She shook her hands, flicking blood from her claws. “I will heal.”

  Randall curled a finger beneath her chin and turned her face toward him. “You’re sure?”

  Her eyes finally met his, and some of their heat dissipated. “I will heal, Randall,” she said again, but softer this time. She reached for him, but pulled back with a frown when she saw the blood on her hands.

  “What about you, Randall?” Aymee asked from the doorway, features drawn in concern.

  “I can still breathe,” he replied, “so it can’t be that bad, right?”

  Something bumped his free hand. He glanced down to the bed him to see Ikaros. The prixxir nudged Randall’s palm with his snout, chirruping softly.

  Randall crouched, lifted the prixxir into his arms, and stood up again. Ikaros made small, contented sounds. If it weren’t for Ikaros, Randall might never have woken up.

  “Can I come in to check on them?” Aymee asked.

  “Keep a wide distance,” Jax replied.

  Volk began to speak, but Jax tightened his arm around the other kraken’s throat, cutting off the words.

  Aymee stepped into the room, keeping as far from Jax and Volk as possible as she made her way toward Randall. She raised her hands to his chest.

  Rhea growled, inserting herself between Randall and Aymee.

  “Easy,” Randall soothed, settling a hand on Rhea’s shoulder and gently drawing her back. “It’s okay. She’s a healer, remember?”

  Scowling, Rhea looked away.

  “It’s okay, Rhea,” Aymee said with a smile. “Arkon gets this way, too. I’m just going to check him and make sure he’s not seriously injured.”

  Randall lifted his palm from Rhea’s shoulder and took her hand in his, guiding her to stand at his side. “You already claimed me, Rhea. I’m yours. No need to worry.”

  Lips pressed tightly together, Rhea nodded curtly, motioning for Melaina to join her. The child came immediately and tucked herself against her mother.

 
“Are you okay, Randall?” Melaina asked softly.

  “I’ll be fine, kid.” He grunted and winced as Aymee’s prodded his ribs with her fingers.

  “Some serious bruising, and it’s going to hurt for a while, but I don’t think anything is broken. We’ll have to look with the scanner to be sure,” Aymee said.

  Voices from the hallway called everyone’s attention to the door. Arkon and Dracchus entered one after the other, both dripping wet. Several more kraken filled the doorway a moment later, but Arkon blocked their entry.

  Dracchus moved to Rhea without so much as a glance at Volk. “How badly are you wounded?”

  Rhea lifted her chin, meeting Dracchus’s gaze. “I will heal.”

  The large kraken studied her carefully, assessing the damage. Randall did the same. There was a faint trembling in her hands now, suggesting that her pain was greater than she’d let on, and her skin seemed a shade paler than usual.

  Dracchus’s fury was plain; it radiated from him like waves of roiling heat and shaped his expression into something murderous. He glanced at Randall, an unspoken question in his eyes.

  “I’ll heal, too. Just slower,” Randall said.

  Rhea and Dracchus met one another’s gazes, and the large male nodded.

  “Volk has invaded this den,” Rhea said, voice raised, “endangering myself and my youngling, and attacked my mate.”

  Based on the hushed voices in the hallway, there were more kraken gathered than Randall had realized. A tense silence followed the torrent of whispers.

  Volk strained against Jax’s hold, but Jax only tightened his grip.

  Dracchus turned toward the doorway, through which numerous kraken peered into the room. “Volk has betrayed our people by disregarding the things we hold most important,” he said. He moved to the pinned kraken, and he and Jax dragged Volk off the floor. “Rhea has made her accusation. The proof of it is plain. Volk has—”

  “Enough!” someone shouted from the corridor. There was a brief commotion as Kronus shoved his way through the crowd and came face-to-face with Arkon. Dracchus and Jax dragged Volk in front of the doorway, blocking it from Randall’s view.