The creature came down on its back, slamming into the rock hard enough for Aymee to feel the vibration of its impact. She scrabbled away, heart in her throat. She couldn’t take her eyes off Arkon.
Bending, the creature waved its mandibles to catch hold of Arkon. He brought both his hands down on its chin, burying his claws in the soft flesh of its underside. More blood flowed as he forced its head down into the rock. Keeping it pinned with one arm, he drew the other back and struck, over and over.
The beast’s frantic thrashing kicked up more sand, impeding Aymee’s vision for a moment.
When the cloud cleared, the creature was still, and Arkon’s siphons flared. There were several wounds on his torso and arms from which trickles of blood drifted into the water. He turned his head, met Aymee’s eyes, and suddenly released the beast, rushing to her.
Arkon grasped her upper arms and ran his eyes over her. Then he drew her into a tight embrace. His tentacles slid around her, and the two of them sank to the bottom, but he didn’t let go.
“Do you require assistance?” Sam asked, his voice finally breaking through as her panic eased. “Would you like me to send a distress signal?”
“I’m fine.” Aymee wrapped her arms around Arkon, holding him just as tightly. She waited until her heart settled and her trembling subsided before she guided Arkon to lean back.
“I’m okay, Arkon.” He couldn’t hear her, but she hoped he’d understand. She placed a hand on his jaw and stroked his cheek. His eyes were dilated, possessing a fearful gleam. Red mist drifted through the water between them. Aymee frowned, dropping her gaze to the various wounds on his chest, shoulders, and arms.
She didn’t know as much about the ocean as Macy, but Aymee knew blood attracted predators. “We need to go, Arkon.” She motioned to his wounds.
He glanced down and frowned but didn’t seem concerned. His hold on her didn’t relent.
“Arkon.” He didn’t look up, so she cupped his face and directed his eyes back to her. “We need to go. It’s too dangerous, and you need to get those taken care of.” To illustrate her point, she gestured to his injuries, then back to the creature he’d just killed, and finally in the direction of the base.
Turning his head, he looked over his shoulder at the beast. When he looked back to Aymee, he drew her against him, tentacles guiding her legs up and around his waist.
Sighing in relief, Aymee tightened her hold on him, crossing her ankles at his back. He kept an arm around her as he swam. With his free hand, he grabbed the dead creature’s tail and dragged it alongside them.
The base’s infirmary was much smaller than the one in the Facility — this place had three examination tables rather than beds, all of them adjustable in a variety of ways and possessing numerous attachments for tools Arkon couldn’t identify, and several storage cabinets along one wall. Despite its age, everything in the room exuded newness, as though none of it had ever been used; understandable, as the base had never entered full operation. That sense was heightened by the pure white of the overhead lights.
“This isn’t necess—” Arkon bit off his words with a hiss as Aymee dabbed more of the pungent liquid onto one of his wounds. It hurt worse than when the cut had been opened. The ends of his tentacles writhed over the floor.
“How is it not necessary? Some of these look like they need stitches, Arkon!”
Aymee had insisted on bringing him to the infirmary to tend his wounds. He’d delayed, more concerned with taking care of the meat once he confirmed she was unharmed apart from the bruise on her back. They’d hauled the sandseeker out of the water with ropes and hooks, and he’d cut as much meat as he could from it; Aymee glared at him until after he’d stored everything in the freezer.
“I will heal, Aymee,” he replied. “My wounds are minor.”
She gestured to one of the deeper cuts, then carefully cleaned the blood oozing from around it. “This is not minor.”
He winced, muscles tensing.
Better myself than her.
Though they were at least an hour beyond the attack, Arkon’s nerves had little settled. His memory insisted upon reviewing those terrifying moments repeatedly. Fear kept his blood cold, and his hearts thumped. The first time he’d taken her out, and his stupidity had nearly cost Aymee her life.
“I am not human, Aymee,” he said through his teeth, too harshly. “Your standards do not fit me, in most cases.”
Aymee flinched and lowered the cloth. “No, you’re not. Sometimes I forget how different we really are.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, averting her eyes. “But you are wounded and bleeding. I’ve seen people die from cuts smaller than this.”
“And I watched you nearly get killed!” He lashed out with a tentacle, knocking the metal cart — and the medical supplies upon it — to the floor. “If my blood is the price to keep you safe, I will gladly pay it again and again. But if I had been as attentive as I should have you would never have been in danger to begin with.” His shoulders heaved as he breathed through clenched teeth. Had such anger ever flowed through him? Such disappointment in himself?
She’d chosen him as her mate, as her lover. And he had proven himself, at best, an incompetent protector.
She stared at him silently, though her eyes softened, and some of his anger dissipated. “Wasn’t it me who didn’t obey?” Aymee knelt, righted the cart, and replaced the items that had fallen from its top. When she stood up, she dabbed his arm with a fresh cloth.
“You moved to signal me of danger, didn’t you? Do you think I can fault you for that?”
“No.” She set the cloth aside and frowned as her eyes roamed over his numerous wounds.
“I brought you into my world, and I failed to keep you safe.”
“I’m here, Arkon, and so are you. That is not failure.”
“My inattentiveness put you at risk!”
“You once told me that life has little meaning without risks.”
Arkon dropped his gaze and clenched his fists at his sides. Having his own words thrown at him was like a physical blow; though he’d spoken them only a couple weeks before, they’d been uttered during another life. Before he had something too valuable to lose.
He inhaled deeply and took her hands in his, meeting her eyes. “And now life would have little meaning without you, Aymee.”
She stepped closer, tucking her head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her; his Aymee was here, with him, whole.
“I was aware of the danger, just like you knew how dangerous it was for you every time we met on that beach. You’re worth the risk, Arkon.” Her breath was warm against his throat.
Frowning, he slid a hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head, holding her closer. She kissed his neck, and he closed his eyes. Now he understood how Jax must have felt when Macy was attacked by a razorback — the sense of helplessness, the gut-wrenching terror. He tried to push those emotions aside, to calm his frayed nerves, but a lump of dread lingered in his stomach.
“If you weren’t aware of the sandseeker, why were you trying to get my attention?” he asked, combing his claws through her hair. It was an oddly soothing action; a simple, concrete reassurance of her presence, of her wellbeing.
“I saw a boat.”
His hand stilled. Tumultuous thoughts roiled through his mind, a hundred questions and a thousand possible explanations, all lacking any semblance of certainty.
“A fishing boat?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see nets or lines.”
Perhaps they simply hadn’t reached their desired location. That was the logical conclusion, but something inside Arkon said logic might be a hindrance in this situation — what if the hunters were closing in while he attempted to rationalize all this? “Is it normal for them to come to this area?”
Aymee sighed and lifted her head. “I’m not sure. It’s possible, but I never had much to do with it. Macy would probably know.”
If it had been the hunters in that boat — no, they couldn’t aff
ord ifs now, they had to assume it was the hunters — then this place was at risk of being discovered. The chances of it being spotted by someone hugging the coastline were strong, though it depended on the angle of their approach.
“I think it best we have the computer shut down all the lights in the submarine pen and leave them off. If they find this place, we want them to think it is abandoned,” he said.
“I agree.” She stepped back, and Arkon loosened his hold on her. “Are you sure your wounds are okay?”
He was tempted to pull her close again, but he refrained. “They will be, yes. Most of them will heal by tomorrow.”
She nodded, cupped his face, and tugged him down for a kiss. “I suppose you won’t need to hunt for a while then?”
“So long as you enjoy the sandseeker meat.” He smiled and kissed her again.
Aymee chuckled and caressed his face. “I’m in no position to be picky. Besides, you killed that thing to save me. I’m sure it will be the most succulent meat I’ve ever had.” Her lips spread into a grin. “So long as I’m not cooking it.”
Chapter 18
Arkon’s siphon twitched enough to draw him from the depths of sleep into murky awareness. Without opening his eyes, he turned his head away.
Something touched him near his nostrils, tickling his skin. Confusion suffused the groggy haze that had settled over his mind. He lifted a hand and brushed his palm over his face.
Another tickle, this time on one of his tentacles. His muscles tightened as the limb reflexively curled away, and Arkon finally opened his eyes.
Laughter filled his ears — Aymee’s laughter.
“I finally woke up before you!” Aymee grinned down at him. “I’ve been waiting three days to get you back.”
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head, staring up at her. The barrack’s overhead lights were off; it was very early morning, but Aymee was wide awake. Arkon smiled. Joy and humor brightened her face, and he couldn’t think of a more beautiful image to wake to.
It didn’t hurt that she’d not yet dressed for the day.
Thrusting out his tentacles, he caught her around the waist and dragged her down atop him. She shrieked with laughter, hands landing on either side of his head and hair falling around their faces. Her breasts pressed against his chest and desire stirred within him.
“Well, now you have me, what do you plan to do with me?” she asked.
He brushed the hair back from one side of her face and studied her features. It seemed there was something new to be found in them every day, something more to appreciate.
“I will allow my imagination no limits in deciding that.”
The glee in her expression softened, giving way to sudden solemnity. She cupped his jaw, running her thumb over his cheek. “I feel like I’ve waited for you my whole life.” Her gentle touch moved to his lower lip. “I didn’t know it then, but that moment on the beach, the first time we spoke to each other, I felt...something. A connection. I thought it was simple fascination. You were so different, so extraordinary, so...beautiful.
“I anticipated every glimpse of you, cherished every gift. We never spoke except for that short encounter, but I could almost feel you. And then you finally came to me. Our friendship was so easy. It was as though we’d always known each other. Does that make it fate?” she asked. “When I had to make the choice to part ways, it devastated me, but not as much as the thought of losing you irrevocably.”
He covered her hand with his. “I cannot tell you whether it is fate or not, Aymee. That is a word which holds little meaning to my people. The kraken have simply survived. We were made, and we exist, and that was as far as most of us seem to have considered it.
“But the chances of you and I ever meeting, of ever knowing of one another’s existence, were so tiny, so improbable, that it should never have been. I have spent most of my life searching out something I could never define, pushing to express thoughts and emotions I did not — or could not — understand, and when I finally saw you for the first time...the rest of it didn’t matter anymore.”
His chest swelled with the emotions she’d woken in him; even now, he could not express himself in a way that did his feelings justice. But Aymee understood. From the beginning, she’d understood.
She turned her face and kissed his hand, smiling. “I love you, Arkon.”
“And I love you, Aymee.”
Aymee pressed her lips to his before laying her head on his shoulder. They remained in that position for a time, enjoying the mutual embrace. He closed his eyes and focused on the steady beat of her heart.
“We should make the most of the early hours,” she eventually said, slipping from his arms. “We’ve been cooped up for days.” She grabbed her suit and grinned at him. “Take me swimming, and when we get back, you can have your wicked way with me.”
He watched her walk away, appreciating the play of muscle in her lithe legs and the sensual sway of her hips and backside. Once she was out of sight, he turned his gaze upward.
If Jax had wandered the seas in a physical search, Arkon had navigated tangled paths of thought, hoping to find meaning, to find purpose. To find something beyond mere survival. He’d been restless in his own fashion.
Now, he’d found contentment. He was still curious, still inquisitive, still thirsted for knowledge, but he was content with Aymee. He was happy. Though he couldn’t pretend to understand the changes he’d undergone, he couldn’t deny them. She filled in a piece of him that had been missing.
She was his muse, his centerpiece, the jewel that belonged at the heart of his life.
His tentacles shifted over the bedding, picking up hints of her taste on the fabric.
His Aymee.
“I’m ready!” she called.
Arkon turned his head to see her emerge from the bathroom. She picked up her mask from one of the nearby bunks and moved toward the door leading into the corridor. He rolled off the bed and accompanied her.
They hurried through the corridors, sped by her excitement. Aymee was the first through the door to the submarine pen.
“—mee? Arkon?” a voice called, echoing through the chamber.
“Is that…” Aymee stepped forward, looking over the rail. “Macy!”
He hurried to the railing beside her. Macy stood on the lower platform, water dripping from her diving suit, flanked by Jax and Dracchus.
Macy tilted her head back and beamed up at them before she and Aymee simultaneously raced for the stairs.
Arkon followed her, turning toward the stairwell as Macy and Aymee met on the center steps and embraced one another.
“I missed you so much!” Aymee exclaimed.
“I was worried when we came in here and didn’t see either of you!” Macy grinned at Arkon. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“It is good to see you,” he said, and shifted his gaze to the two kraken at the base of the stairs. “All of you.”
Aymee pulled back. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here, Mace?”
“They wanted to check on you two, so I demanded they bring me along.”
“Macy demanded to see you before she knew we were coming,” Jax said, his half-smile belying his serious tone. “She said she would go by herself if I didn’t take her.”
“I knew he wouldn’t let that happen.” Macy’s gaze was warm as it met Jax’s. “And it worked, right?”
“Where’s baby Sarina?” Aymee asked.
“Rhea has her with the other females and younglings. They’ll protect her from anything. Even Dracchus wouldn’t cross those women.”
Dracchus grunted. “They will not keep me from my...what was your word, Macy? Niece?”
“I thought she was my niece.” Arkon looked at Macy and lifted his brows in question. On the surface, human familial relationships seemed simple, but perhaps they were more complicated than he’d assumed.
Macy chuckled. “You’re both her uncles, and she’s got the best uncles in all of Halora.”
<
br /> Arkon was reminded of how much he missed these people — not the kraken in general, but his family. Only Sarina was related to anyone else by blood, but that didn’t matter. Their bonds had formed in different ways.
And now Aymee was part of his family, too.
He turned to look down at Jax and Dracchus. “There is something I must speak to the two of you about.”
“Come on, Aymee,” Macy said, hooking Aymee’s arm with her own, “show me where you’ve been staying. I felt like I was calling your names forever before you came out.”
“Sure. There’s actually a lot for me to tell you.” Aymee walked alongside her up the stairs and toward the interior of the base.
Jax moved up the steps to watch the females disappear into the short hallway. A few moments later, the metallic groan of the opening door echoed through the submarine pen.
“It opened?” Jax asked, surprise on his features.
The groan repeated as the door closed.
“The suit I brought for Aymee interfaced with the computer in this base, just like Macy’s had at the Facility. It opened the door for us.”
“What is beyond it?” Jax swung his attention toward the hallway again.
“Let us talk first. Then you can explore until your curiosity is sated.”
Nodding, Jax followed Arkon down to the lower platform, stopping near Dracchus.
“You and Aymee are well?” Jax asked.
“Yes. We had an unplanned run-in with a sandseeker a few days ago, but apart from that, we have been comfortable. We’ve...made good use of our time together.”
“You mated with her?” Dracchus asked.
Arkon straightened his back and rose slightly higher. “Yes. We have claimed one another.”
“I am glad for you.” Jax lifted a hand and settled it on Arkon’s shoulder for a moment before dropping it away. The contact was surprising but welcome; the warmth and good nature of the gesture were clear.
“In many ways, I owe it to you, Jax.” Arkon met his friend’s eyes. “Had you not rescued Macy… I would ask more of you, though. Both of you.”
The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 52
