He’d put at least two meters of distance between them.
She moved onto her knees and fisted her hands in her lap, squeezing her thighs together in hopes of easing her arousal; it felt somehow tainted, now.
What have I done?
She’d pushed too far, too soon.
“Arkon?”
“I…I just… A moment, please.” His head dipped briefly and then tipped back. “I’m not…not accustomed to…”
“I understand.”
He looked down again. “I don’t know that you do…”
Aymee lowered her gaze. Perhaps she didn’t. She’d been the one pushing her affections onto Arkon during their few, too-brief meetings. What if he didn’t want her the way she wanted him? What if he couldn’t see past their differences like Jax had with Macy?
Clutching the fabric of her skirt in both hands, she climbed to her feet and collected her sandals from the nearby rocks.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to explain anything.” She closed her eyes and struggled to regain some semblance of calm. “We’ll meet again in two days for the exchange.”
“Aymee, I…” Arkon released an unsteady breath. His head and shoulders sagged, contrasting the tension in his balled fists. “Two days, then.”
She opened her mouth to say goodbye, but it felt too final. Instead, she slipped on her sandals and left without another word. Without looking back. The widening distance between them hurt more with each step.
She walked along the dirt footpath through the jungle, back to the main road, and returned to The Watch without allowing her emotions to get the better of her. It didn’t matter how much her eyes burned, or her heart stung.
“Early morning trip to the beach, Miss Rhodes?”
Aymee stopped and lifted her head, meeting Randall’s eyes. Leaning against a wall a few meters away, he wore his usual green-and-purple attire. The knives on his belt were accompanied by a holstered pistol today. Though his arms were folded across his chest, relatively far from the weapon, it added menace to his visage.
“I needed some fresh air,” she said, resuming her walk.
“A good hunter has an eye for patterns,” he said as she passed. “We have to learn the habits of the creatures we hunt to become more effective. People have habits, too. Routines they don’t often break.”
“Are you insinuating something?”
“Just observing. I couldn’t help but notice the change in your routine today, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay. There anything you want to talk to me about?”
“You’ve been here all of twelve days. What do you know of my habits?” She narrowed her eyes at him as he fell into step beside her. “I don’t find it very comforting to know you’re stalking me.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not stalking you. Like I said, people just have their habits. Not hard to pick up on them, once you know what you’re looking for.”
His scrutiny was unnerving, and for once she was grateful that she’d have to wait until the next exchange. It gave her time to take precautions.
“I go to the beach when I want to think. It’s calming. Macy and I used to go when we were kids.”
“You have to walk through a stretch of jungle to get to that beach. Wouldn’t it be safer just to go to the one by the dock?”
“Like I said, we went there as children. And the beach by the docks is too distracting.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. I’ve told you already, I’m not your enemy, Aymee. I just want everyone to be safe.”
Aymee closed her mouth. She didn’t want to get into the same argument with him, she didn’t want him to be her enemy, she didn’t want to deal with any of this — not now or ever. Under different circumstances, she and Randall might’ve been good friends.
But the what-ifs didn’t change the current situation.
Randall stepped in front of her, palms displayed in a supplicating gesture. “Just stop and listen to me for one minute, please?”
Frowning, she halted. “Randall—”
“I’m not starting an argument, I promise. I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry for the other night. That was not how I intended for it to go, and it was my fault. I should’ve known better with them so deep into their cups. Cyrus is my father’s friend and… Look, it may not mean much to you, but I’m pretty sure my father sent him along to keep an eye on me. I would like nothing more than to leave this place without ever seeing a kraken.”
Aymee’s brows furrowed. She searched his eyes and saw no deceit in them. “Why?”
“Because I don’t know how that encounter would turn out, and I don’t want to cause you grief.”
Though he’d made no secret of his interest in her, Aymee hadn’t believed it strong enough for him to forgo what he viewed as his duty — unless it was all a ploy. “Why? I’m one person. Isn’t your responsibility to all the people of Halora?”
“I want to believe what you say about them. I want it to be enough for me, but it’s not. It can’t be. Because men like Cyrus and my father won’t accept it.”
She stared at him; the hardness she’d noticed in his features that first night had returned. Understanding dawned on Aymee at that moment.
“It won’t be enough until one side is dead,” she said.
He nodded. “I’m not going to ask you why you really went to the beach. But I am going to tell you: be careful. If this all escalates…I don’t think I can stop it.”
Her heartbeat accelerated. Randall knew. He knew she’d gone to the beach the night before, that she hadn’t returned until now. He knew she was up to something and had inferred it was related to the kraken.
But he hadn’t seen Arkon, or else he wouldn’t be here talking to her. The dread in her gut eased, if only slightly.
She took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Like I said, Randall, I went to the beach for some time alone.”
There was scrutiny in his gaze, but it was somehow gentle. “Have a good day, Miss Rhodes.” Randall turned and walked away, adding over his shoulder, “And be careful on that jungle road. Could be dangerous creatures around.”
Aymee watched until he was out of sight. By the time she got home, her nerves had only further frayed, and she thrummed with anxiety.
She stepped through the door and stopped short, nearly colliding with her father.
“Aymee!” He pulled her into a tight hug. “Where were you? You didn’t come home last night.”
She embraced him, meeting her mother’s worried eyes over his shoulder. “I was with Arkon.”
“All night?” Jeanette’s eyes widened. Unspoken words lingered in her expression; while Aymee’s parents held no prejudice against the kraken, it didn’t mean they were without reservations.
Aymee pulled back and smiled. “We were perfectly safe.”
“Aymee…” Kent ran a hand through his gray-streaked blonde hair. “It’s not safe for either of you.”
“I know.” Aymee sighed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I know! Everything was fine until they showed up. Now…”
Kent took hold of her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Just be careful.”
But I am going to tell you: be careful. If this all escalates…I don’t think I can stop it.
“I am. I’m trying.”
Jeanette stepped closer. “Maybe it’s time to stop. Macy has moved on, and I know it will hurt to let her go—”
“No!” She stared at her mother, chest constricting, but it wasn’t Macy on Aymee’s mind.
“Just for now,” Jeanette amended. “Until the rangers leave.”
“They might never leave!”
“If they go long enough without finding anything, they will,” Kent said. “They’re not going to stay if there’s nothing to hunt.”
“And every time you meet with Arkon, you’re putting him in danger,” Jeanette added gently, rubbing her palm along Aymee’s arm. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,
but we don’t want anyone hurt, especially you.”
Aymee blinked, tears dripping down her cheeks.
She never cried, but God, this hurt. She felt like her entire world was shattering, the pieces falling around her feet. Worst of all…her parents were right. Aymee knew they were. She’d known from the moment she first saw Randall on that stage, and she’d still foolishly, selfishly continued to meet Arkon.
“Aymee…” Kent wiped tears from her cheek.
“I know. You’re right.” She drew in a shaky breath. “We meet in two days. I’ll tell him that it’ll be the last. I’ll tell Macy.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeanette said.
“Do you want to stay home today?” Kent asked.
Aymee shook her head. “No. I… The distraction will help.”
Kent nodded. “I’ll see you at the clinic soon, then. Take all the time you need.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before stepping outside.
“I need to wash up,” Aymee said.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not right now.”
“Okay. I’ll make something for you to take with you.”
“Thanks, mom.”
Aymee retreated to the bathroom, where she removed her clothes. Her skin felt gritty with sand and dried salt. For a moment, she stood in silence, a hand settled over her stomach, and recalled the way she’d felt pressed against Arkon and coiled in his embrace. He’d held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Her skin tingled with the memory of his hesitant, curious, intimate touch.
And she’d ruined it.
She hurriedly washed, scrubbing her skin and hair, and dried off.
Stepping into her room, she dressed in a loose skirt and a short-sleeved blouse. As she buttoned her shirt, she glanced at her nightstand and froze.
Her jar of rocks lay broken on the floor, the precious stones scattered amongst shards of glass.
Numb, Aymee stepped forward, narrowly avoiding the pieces of glass. The nightstand’s bottom drawer was open. She removed the books from it one by one, hardly breathing. It wasn’t until she found the small stack of folded letters that she released a relieved sigh and sagged onto the bed.
She lifted her head and scanned the room. The dresser drawers were partially opened, their contents disturbed, and the objects on her table had been moved. Her attention caught on her satchel.
It had been laid atop the table, flap thrown open, papers spilling out.
“No,” she rasped and quickly crossed the room, somehow missing the glass shards. She stood the satchel and pulled out the papers with shaking hands. “No. No!”
Every drawing she’d made of Arkon — every single one! — was gone.
Icy fear flooded her, thawed by rage close on its heels.
How dare he?
He’d come to her this morning in peace, but it had all been a lie. His kindness and friendship were false fronts meant to lull her into lowering her guard.
Aymee left her room, striding toward the front door.
“Aymee?” Jeanette frowned as Aymee passed her. “Aymee!”
She ignored her mother as she threw on her shoes and stormed out, stalking down the street toward the town center. She paid no mind to the people milling about the square.
Shoving the double doors open, she strode into the town hall.
Aymee swept her gaze over the room and spotted Randall standing at one of the tables, bent forward with his hands on the tabletop. He turned his head, eyes widening when they fell on Aymee. The other two men — Cyrus and one she hadn’t met — shifted their attention to her, as well.
“Where are they?” she demanded, closing the distance between them.
Randall quirked a brow. “Where are what, Aymee?”
“My sketches,” she bit out. “You took my sketches!”
He frowned, but the mild confusion on his face didn’t fade. “I gave them all back to you after they fell. I handed them directly to you.”
“But you came for them. You searched my damn room for them!”
“Hell, Randy, this one’s a firecracker.” Cyrus wore an amused smirk beneath his hard-eyed gaze.
Aymee turned her glare to him, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. “I want my sketches back. Now.”
“I don’t have them, Aymee. I’m not a damned thief,” Randall said.
“That’s right, Aymee,” Cyrus drawled. “He doesn’t have them.”
“You do,” she said.
Cyrus stepped around the other ranger and approached her. He towered over her. “Prove it, fish-lover.”
Aymee balled a fist and, without thought, she punched Cyrus in the face.
His head snapped to the side. He slowly turned it back to her, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Gonna have to do a lot better than th—”
A choking noise cut off his words as Aymee rammed her knee into his crotch. He doubled over, face red, hands dropping to his groin. She placed her palms on his shoulders and pushed him to the floor.
“Do not speak to me that way again,” she said through clenched teeth.
Cyrus grunted and reached up. His face darkened as he took hold of the table’s edge and dragged himself to his feet. “You little fish-loving—”
Randall and the other ranger imposed themselves between the two at that moment. Items rattled on the table as they restrained Cyrus. Before Aymee could get another shot in, Randall caught her wrist.
“Enough, Aymee. It’s probably best you go,” he said.
She yanked her wrist out of his grasp and stepped away from him. “I want them back, Randall. Someone was in my room. Someone took them, and I don’t care if it was you or him. I want them back.” She turned and stomped toward the door.
“That’s not what we do, Aymee,” Randall called, raising his voice over Cyrus’s swearing.
Aiden blocked her. “Are you okay, Aymee?”
“I’m fine. Sorry for the disturbance.”
He looked over her shoulder, toward the rangers, for an instant. “I’d kick them out if I could, but…” he whispered.
“I know. Thank you.”
He nodded and moved aside, letting her leave.
Chapter 9
The evening sun crept toward the watery horizon, its angle casting illumination on most of the sand beneath the overhang. The scents on the wind teased a coming storm, but only sparse white clouds drifted across the sky.
Arkon clenched his jaw as he stared at the tiny stones and shells scattered in the sand. He’d intended to create something new for Aymee, another surprise, but his plans had met only frustration. He was too preoccupied. Whenever he sought a potential pattern in his mind’s eye, his thoughts returned to that morning two days before.
To the hurt in her voice.
He raked his claws over the design he’d etched into the sand. For all his curiosity, all his excitement, all his interest in Aymee, he’d fled the situation. He’d allowed his lack of experience to become a lack of self-control, and she had paid the price.
The tip of his tentacle still tingled with the remembrance of her taste, scent, and feel. It had been so potent he’d nearly tasted her on his tongue. In that moment — when he’d touched her, flesh to flesh — he’d wanted her so much it hurt. He’d extruded almost instantly. The immense, aching pressure in his shaft would’ve burst at her slightest touch.
He stared down at the backs of his hands and the tiny grains of sand sticking to them. Creativity had never been difficult for him; he saw intricate patterns everywhere, and his visions for his work were always clear from their inception.
That had all seemed to flee him after hurting Aymee.
Lifting his head, he glanced down the beach. His hearts stilled when Aymee rounded the bend in the cliffside and entered his view. Her brows were drawn, and she wore a troubled frown. Turning away, she walked backward, seeming to search the beach behind her.
Arkon pushed himself upright. He’d never seen her in such a state, and he’d only himself t
o blame. Perhaps he valued knowledge and learning more than any of his kind, but he’d been a fool.
She faced him again and approached, the canister swinging in her hold. She wore a bandage on one hand.
“What happened, Aymee?” He moved close and gently took her wrist, raising her arm to study the cloth wrapped around her knuckles.
“I lost my temper with one of the hunters.”
His muscles tensed, but he was careful not to strengthen his grip. “Did he harm you?”
“No. The others caught him before he could.” She tugged free of his hold. “I can’t stay. And this...needs to end.”
Arkon’s arms fell to his sides. His chest tightened and his brow furrowed as he processed her words, and his initial response — What? — caught in his throat. A strange sort of anger followed; it wasn’t directed at her, but at the situation, at the hunters, at the world.
“No.”
Her eyes shot up to meet his. “Yes, Arkon. It isn’t safe.”
“Life isn’t safe. Fear and intolerance separated our people long ago, and I refuse to allow the same keep us apart.”
Aymee squeezed her eyes shut, and a pained expression flitted across her face. The container dropped from her hand and hit the sand with a soft plop. When she looked up at him again, she pressed her fingers to his chest.
“We’re asking for trouble,” she said quietly. “They took my sketches, Arkon. They know what you look like now, and at least one of them knows about my trips to this beach. I won’t be coming here again until they leave town.”
The finality in her tone sapped the strength of his resolve. He didn’t want this to be the end, couldn’t bear it to be, but the choice, ultimately, belonged to her. Just as it had from the beginning.
And she was right.
“Holy shit,” said a deep voice from behind her.
Arkon lifted his gaze. A human male had just rounded the bend, a long gun in his hands. He was large enough to rival Macy’s father, Breckett, but there was something harder about this human — an emptiness behind the gleam in his eyes.
Aymee spun toward them. “No!”
Arkon swept her behind him as two more humans came into view, both with similar clothing and weapons.
The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 41
