The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story

by Tiffany Roberts

  “He hasn’t been in The Watch for a few years.” She smirked. “My family has its own trade that’s been passed down through generations. My father started bringing us to the clinic with him when we were young and taught us the family trade while we grew up. When Andrew was old enough to strike out on his own, he started traveling to other towns to provide his services where needed. He ended up meeting a woman in one of those towns, and he’s lived there with her ever since.”

  “I’ve been to a lot of places,” Randall said, absently rotating his mug, “and met a lot of people. Everyone always talks about going somewhere else, about how much better it’ll be, how much more exciting…but it all gets to be the same after a point. At least he found happiness. That’s all anyone can hope for, right?”

  Aymee’s thoughts shifted to Macy. Macy, who’d been unhappy for years after losing her sister, who felt like she always had to do more, to be more, to atone for the pain she’d caused. It had taken her own near drowning and a rescue from Jax to push Macy to take control of her life and choose happiness.

  As Aymee opened her mouth to answer, a heavy arm fell over her shoulder. Cider — fortunately cooled enough not to burn — sloshed over her hand. The stench of alcohol and sweat hit her nose.

  “Look at you, Randy, talking up the locals.” The man peered at her. “Isn’t this that fish-lover?” he asked, grinning broadly between Randall and Aymee.

  Aymee recognized the cruelty in his smile. He was the man who’d laughed when she said the rangers had come to The Watch for themselves. She pushed her mug aside and frowned. “Please remove your arm.”

  “She’s a pretty thing,” the man said, turning his head toward her, his breath hot against her ear.

  “Cyrus, get the hell off her,” Randall warned.

  “I’m just trying to be friendly, Randy. Isn’t that what you told us to do?”

  “Sir, if you do not get off me, I will make you,” Aymee said patiently.

  Randall pushed his stool away from the bar and stood up. Cyrus removed his arm from Aymee and stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender; he held a glass of beer in one. He looked to be in his late forties, his tanned skin weather-worn and his short beard flecked with gray, but he was tall and well-built.

  “Relax, kid. We’re on the same team, me and you, right?” Though his speech was slurred and his stance unsteady, there was a hardness in his eyes that belied a deeper meaning to his words.

  “We are. Which is why you’re going to apologize to Miss Rhodes and hit your bunk.”

  Randall and Cyrus stared at one another for several tense seconds.

  “Pulling rank doesn’t work the way you think, kid. Not out here,” Cyrus said in a low voice before turning to Aymee. “Name’s Cyrus Taylor, miss, and I’m awful sorry. Your town has some of the best booze I’ve ever had, and I seem to have partaken a bit heavily.”

  “That’s all right. Just make sure you drink plenty of water before you hit that bunk.” She slid off her stool and smoothed down her skirt.

  Cyrus chuckled. “You’re the doc’s daughter, right?”

  “Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late.” She smiled at Randall and picked up her satchel. “Thank you for the company.”

  “I’m sorry, Aymee. You don’t have to go,” Randall said.

  “It’s okay, ma—”

  “Whatcha got here?” Cyrus snatched her bag and flipped it open before she could stop him.

  Her eyes rounded as he pulled out several of her sketches. She lunged forward, grabbing for the papers. “Stop!”

  Cyrus twisted away, holding the sketches out of her reach. “Well, what do we have here?”

  Randall stepped forward and caught Cyrus’s wrist. Their limbs trembled as Randall forced Cyrus’s arm down. “Give them back to her, Cyrus.”

  “Just wanted to take a—”

  “You have no right!” Aymee growled, wrenching her satchel from his grip and holding out a hand for her drawings.

  Scowling at Randall, Cyrus opened his hand and let the papers fall to the floor. Randall thrust the man back as he released his arm, and Cyrus stumbled into a nearby table, barely catching himself on the top.

  “To your bunk, ranger,” Randall commanded. “Now.”

  There were heavy steps approaching, but Aymee ignored them. She knelt on the floor and swept the papers into a pile. Her hands shook with fury and concern.

  “Known the kid since he was shitting his pants, and now he’s putting me to bed,” Cyrus muttered as he walked away.

  “Come on, Cyrus. You’ve had enough,” another man said.

  Randall crouched near Aymee and reached to gather some of the scattered papers, but his hand froze in midair. He tilted his head and slid one of the pages aside, revealing the sketch beneath.

  One of the drawings of Arkon’s hand.

  He met Aymee’s gaze. Her heart stopped.

  Without a word, she collected the remaining sketches and stuffed them into her satchel, tying the lacings to secure the flap.

  “Are those what I think they are?” Randall asked, voice flat.

  “So what if they are?” she retorted, casting a brief glare at Cyrus.

  “How many of those drawings do you have, Aymee?”

  “It’s none of your business.” She rose and stalked toward the door, pausing to retrieve her coat and shove her arms into the sleeves.

  Randall pushed himself up and followed. “Aymee! Don’t just leave.”

  She rounded on him. “I will not stay here to be judged and treated this way!”

  “If those drawings are accurate, they’re important information. I need to—”

  “They are mine, and I will not aid your hunt!” She flung the door open, wishing for some of Arkon’s strength to tear it off the hinges and throw the whole damned thing at Cyrus. She plunged into the wind and rain without a backward glance.

  “Aymee!” Randall called. His boots splashed in the water behind her as he hurried to catch up. “Stop, please!”

  She marched into the wind without slowing, barely aware of the stinging raindrops hitting her face. Randall caught up and moved alongside her, but she didn’t look at him.

  “I’ve already made myself clear,” she said over the storm. “That man had no right, and I will not give up my sketches for you to study.”

  “He didn’t have any right, and I’m sorry that happened. But…any information I have on those creatures can save lives. Ours, and theirs.”

  “They are not a threat!” she shouted, stopping and spinning toward Randall. “No lives were at risk before you came, and I refuse to reveal secrets that aren’t mine to give!”

  Randall’s clothes were soaked — he hadn’t put on his parka — and rivulets of water streamed down his face. “I’m just trying to do right by everyone, Aymee. Some people say these creatures aren’t a threat, but a lot more people think they are.”

  “Either way, I don’t have to aid you, not when I know what is at stake.”

  “Do you know what’s at stake? Do you really know what they are, who they are? We’ve survived this planet by taking nothing for granted and fighting every day for our survival, and if the kraken are anything like us, they’ve done the same, and they’ll view us as just as much of a threat!”

  “They are people! People who want to be left alone. It’s you,” she pointed at him, “who would disturb that peace and bring war to them.”

  “Aymee,” he said, stepping toward her, “I’m not trying to bring—”

  She took a step back. “I want to be left alone now, too.”

  Randall halted, clenching his jaw. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I’m not your enemy, Aymee. I’ve never lied about that.”

  “Then don’t make yourself one.”

  She left him, her heart pounding, body trembling, and hoped he wouldn’t follow. There was too much on the line, far too much. Macy, Jax, Sarina.

  Arkon.

  As angry as she was, Aymee believed Randa
ll. She believed he was doing what he thought right, that he only wanted to protect people from the unknown.

  But at what cost? If the rangers found the kraken’s home, what would they do?

  The hard glint in Cyrus’s eyes offered no comforting answer to that question.

  So we are the ones who go out and kill it first.

  Despite those words, she trusted Randall — at least his openness and honesty. But she didn’t trust him with the kraken’s lives. She couldn’t.

  Please let Arkon be right. Don’t let the hunters find them.

  Chapter 6

  The surface of the pool rippled to the gentle hum of unseen filtration systems, like the surface of the ocean in miniature. Arkon studied the stones laid on the bottom. Their shapes were distorted by the reflection of the overhead lights on the water, but their patterns were clear — flowing, swirling lines and curves, like eddies in the water. There were thousands of stones, each placed with thought and purpose to contribute to the whole.

  The display represented weeks of work. Weeks of locating suitable stones and transporting them to The Facility, laying them out and arranging them by color, shape, and size, and then placing them, one by one, on the floor of the pool; weeks before his vision had taken shape. Arkon hadn’t been without his doubts throughout. Would it come out as he’d imagined? Would anyone care?

  And now, after all that time and effort, after persevering through his doubts, he had to force himself to come and see it. Not because he didn’t feel a sense of accomplishment — he was proud despite his self-criticisms — but because his mind had moved on.

  The acrid chemical fumes — how he’d ever grown used to them, he couldn’t understand — assaulted his nostrils. He moved around the edge of the pool and stopped near a metal ladder built directly into its wall, examining his work from a new angle. It felt like he’d made it a lifetime ago. So much had changed over the past few months.

  What else could he do for Aymee? What else could he create for her? Countless possibilities tumbled through his mind, but how many were truly worthy of her attention?

  Arkon frowned; several of the stones below were misaligned. Adjusting them would provide a temporary distraction from his thoughts of Aymee — today, I will see her again later today! — but he found himself strangely hesitant to do so.

  Perhaps it was better as it was. If it wasn’t worth looking at, flaws and all, how good could it really be?

  The Pool Room door slid open. Arkon lifted his gaze to see Jax enter.

  “Still staring at it?” Jax asked. “Do you see something different each time?”

  Arkon smiled and glanced back at the water. “In a way...yes. I make myself see something new.”

  Jax stopped beside Arkon and stared down at the water. “You found your centerpiece.”

  At the heart of the circular pattern lay a shard of halorium, casting a gentle blue glow on the surrounding stones. Though rare, it was easily visible on the seafloor because of its inherent luminescence.

  “The supply exchanges have granted me more time to search.”

  They remained silent for a time. Jax’s unspoken questions thickened the surrounding air.

  “You have spoken to her, then?” Jax finally asked.

  Arkon’s skin heated. Whether Jax had been told by Macy or finally discerned it himself, Arkon had kept his interest in Aymee a secret, and he took no pride in hiding it from his friend.

  “I have,” he replied, flaring his siphons. “I should not have delayed so long before doing so.”

  “No reason for regrets. You did it, even if it took time.”

  “How did you figure it all out with Macy, Jax?”

  “I didn’t, Arkon. None of this can be so simplified. It is all new, all a journey into the unknown.”

  Glancing at Jax, Arkon grinned. “That has ever been your area of expertise, Wanderer.”

  Jax smiled in return and shook his head. “I’ve never truly known what I was doing. You know far more about humans than I. The only difference with Macy and Sarina is that it feels right when I am with them, and I attempt to consider what would make them happy in all my actions.”

  “So, you’re saying I am on my own in this?”

  “You must find your own way, Arkon, as you always have. But you are never alone.” Jax placed a hand on Arkon’s shoulder.

  The contact was unsettling, at first, and wholly outside typical kraken behavior. But Arkon recognized the gesture’s meaning — reassurance. Jax was here, flesh and blood, and he would help however it was necessary short of endangering Macy and Sarina.

  “Thank you, Jax.”

  Dropping his gaze, Jax nodded. It was some time before he spoke again. “A hunt has been called.”

  Arkon’s stomach sank and twisted. Today was their meeting day. Seven or eight hours, and it would be time; time to go, time to see Aymee again.

  A hunt could last for days.

  “Kronus, this time. He wants to go for sandseekers, just off the reef,” Jax continued. “They plan to leave within the hour.”

  “To the abyss with Kronus,” Arkon muttered as he turned and moved away from the pool.

  “This seems familiar.” Jax’s smirk was evident in his tone.

  The two of them had been in this very room several months ago, when Jax had rescued Macy from the sea...only Jax had been cursing Dracchus then, and Jax had been the one who wanted to return to his secret human.

  Jax had refused a hunt so he could spend more time with Macy. Why shouldn’t Arkon do the same?

  Perhaps because Jax’s refusal set into motion a chain of events that left what meager semblance of society our people possess in a state of upheaval, and placed Macy in danger…

  Arkon blew air through his siphons and slowed as he neared the lockers and machinery along the wall. He clenched his jaw and spun about, moving parallel to the pool. Aymee wasn’t in a vulnerable position like Macy had been. As long as Aymee remained in The Watch, she was safe from the other kraken, many of whom were slowly warming to the notion of being in contact with humans.

  Apart from Kronus and his pack. Despite being outmatched, they threw regular insults at Jax and Macy, and considered Jax, Arkon, and Dracchus traitors to their people.

  But they didn’t matter; none of them mattered. The kraken had always seen Arkon as too different, too strange, and he placed little value in their customs and the stunted social hierarchy they’d constructed despite their natural antisocial inclinations. If he refused this hunt, having never done so since he’d reached maturity, they would attribute it to his eccentricity and nothing more.

  And to see Aymee, to look into her warm eyes and listen to her musical voice, would be more than worth admonishment from his people.

  “Arkon.”

  Startled out of his thoughts, Arkon swung his gaze to Jax.

  Frowning, Jax furrowed his brows. “You planned to see her today, didn’t you?”

  Was Arkon so addled that Jax was seeing through him? Usually, it was the other way around.

  Jax moved in front of Arkon, and they met each other’s eyes. “You have the choice, Arkon. But do not let your desires cloud your judgment. Our people cannot be forced into all of this.”

  Unbidden, red flashed over Arkon’s skin. “After all of it — after I stood with you unwaveringly and trusted you blindly — you’re going to tell me not to pursue what I want? Are you the only one of us allowed happiness?”

  “Close your mouth, Arkon, and hear me.” Jax’s tone and stance might have been intimidating to other kraken, but Arkon did not fear Jax.

  “You will not—”

  “Arkon. Enough.” Jax stared at him, and tension as had never existed between them crackled like arcing electricity.

  They were on the edge of butting heads, of challenging one another. It was a sobering realization for Arkon. He snapped his mouth shut and forced his skin to normal.

  “What I did has worked out only through luck,” Jax said gently. “I would have d
one it so much differently if I had any sense. I endangered her through my actions. Do you understand? I might have lost her forever at many points along that journey, and I cannot forgive myself for what might have happened because of my poor decisions.”

  Arkon inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. “You think I should go on this hunt.”

  “You have my support either way. But I do think you should come.”

  All the reasons for and against going ricocheted through Arkon’s mind; each one seemed unimportant when he recalled the brilliance of Aymee’s smile and the ecstasy of her touch.

  She’d seemed just as excited for their next meeting as he was. Would she be disappointed if he didn’t show up? Would it damage the relationship they were building?

  Would she forgive him?

  Aymee had wanted to exercise caution due to the presence of hunters in The Watch. Caution was the best course in dealing with the kraken, as well — they wouldn’t likely suspect Aymee was the reason Arkon skipped a single hunt, but the tides of change had everyone on edge, and it was best to avoid anything that could exasperate their sense of unease.

  At length, Arkon nodded.

  Together, he and Jax exited the Pool Room and made their way through the long corridors. Arkon paid their geometry and construction little mind now. The tightness had returned to his insides and rode like a weight in his gut. There was a chance the hunt would end swiftly, and Arkon could make it to the beach in time. If not...the next exchange was in three days. He’d survive until then.

  He wouldn’t be happy, but he’d survive.

  They entered the Mess a short time after; it was a large, open room, with folded tables and chairs pushed into the corner. It had served as the main gathering place for the kraken since before Arkon was born.

  A small crowd had already gathered. Kronus and his supporters waited to one side, arms folded over their chests and scowls on their faces. Dracchus was opposite them, easily the biggest and strongest of all the kraken. Though he was alone, the others granted him a wide berth. A third group — at least a dozen kraken, including a few females — observed the standoff from a few body lengths away.