Kronus glanced over his shoulder to see Aymee staring at Eva, mouth hanging open. He turned away, clenching his jaw to suppress a smile, and gently settled Eva on a chair near the bed. He had to carefully pry her arms off his neck to withdraw from her.
“You need rest,” Kronus said, “but Aymee will help you clean up first.”
Eva’s eyes met his. A sheen of moisture lingered within them, but no more tears fell. She was disheveled — her hair was a mess, the skin around her eyes was puffy, grains of sand clung to her everywhere, and she looked exhausted.
But there was a light in her eyes again, faint yet unmistakable.
She was alive.
She was beautiful.
“I…yes,” Aymee said, stepping forward. “Let’s clean you up and get some fresh sheets and clothes.” She looked at Kronus, brows raised, waiting for an explanation that wouldn’t come.
“I need to retrieve her wheelchair,” he said before swinging his attention to Eva. “I will return shortly. Aymee will stay with you until I am back.”
“Where is the wheelchair?” Aymee asked as he rose and moved toward the door.
“The same place she was,” he replied.
“And where was that? Damnit, Kronus! I want answers!”
But he was already out of the room, and the answers were not his to give. He exited the clinic without slowing; the less time he spent away from Eva, the better.
Chapter 9
Eva awoke more alert than she’d been since the day of the attack. There wasn’t a spot on her body that didn’t ache, but she had a strange sense of lightness. Though guilt and sorrow lingered within her, curled and coiled around her heart, they were muted by something new, something bright — hope?
That little light was tiny compared to the remaining darkness, but it was undoubtedly there, waiting for her to tend it.
Running her fingers over the crisp bedding, she inhaled its fresh scent. Even she felt clean and refreshed for the first time in a long while.
Shame suffused Eva as the events of the night before came back to her in a rush; her behavior was the reason for the change of sheets and clothing, for the bath she’d received.
She shifted atop the bed, intending to sit up, and accidentally put pressure on the end of her amputated leg. Lips drawn back in a grimace, she hissed and dropped herself onto the bedding. Though the near-constant pain clearly signaled the point at which her leg now ended, it often felt like her foot was still there.
A warm, strong hand settled on her right leg, and she flinched from the touch.
“Should I call for Aymee?”
Eva started at the deep voice and swung her gaze to Kronus, who stood next to the bed. His touch was a hot brand on her thigh, searing through the blanket to thrill the flesh beneath. She glanced down at his hand. It was large, and each of his long fingers was tipped with a wicked claw. Thin webbing stretched between each of those fingers, and she could see tiny, faint veins running through the seemingly-delicate skin.
Had he stayed with her all night? The thought made her feel strangely warm inside. Why did Kronus care so much while the man she’d been joined with, her husband, had abandoned Eva during her greatest time of need? This kraken, this stranger, one of the beings she’d judged and dismissed as inhuman, cared more about her than Blake ever had.
She trailed her gaze up Kronus’s arm, over powerful, defined muscle to linger on the dark stripes that began at his biceps and ran to his shoulders.
His hand flexed, squeezing her thigh. “Eva?”
“No. I’m fine.” She forced her eyes to meet his. “Why are you here?”
“Eat.” He lifted his hand away and pushed the rolling tray table to her.
Eva’s stomach growled, suddenly hollow, as she looked at the plate of food atop the tray. For the first time in days, she was hungry.
She picked up one of the hard-boiled eggs and took a bite. Her next bite finished the egg off. The other egg followed, accompanied by toast and winefruit. Only when a single slice of fruit was left on her plate, and her stomach felt as though it might revolt, did she glance up at Kronus.
He held her gaze, and she stopped chewing the mouthful of sweet fruit. Seconds ticked by. She swallowed the food in her mouth, and still he stared.
“Finish,” he finally said, dipping his chin toward the last piece of fruit.
Her brows fell as she picked up the last slice. Even a single bite more seemed too much now. “You still didn’t answer my question.”
Kronus remained silent. Frowning, she returned the fruit to her plate and pushed the tray aside.
Taking hold of the tray, he wheeled it away and turned back to her. “You are going to walk today.”
Eva paled. “That is cruel.”
“It is the truth. Nothing more nor less.”
“I can’t walk!” She gestured toward her left leg. “It’s gone.”
Kronus moved to the side of the bed and held out a hand. As she looked up at him, she realized for the first time just how big he was; she knew the kraken tended to be larger than humans, but somehow — despite him carrying her several times — she hadn’t really registered the difference.
“You will walk, human.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you have eight legs, or tentacles, or whatever they are! I have one!”
“That is one more than none.”
Eva’s patience was suddenly worn quite thin. “Why are you here?”
“So you have someone to be mad at,” he replied, leaning forward and slipping his hand under her back. He lifted her into a full sitting position as easily as he might’ve folded a piece of paper and turned her so she sat on the edge of the bed.
“What?” she asked, taken aback.
He paused, meeting her gaze again. His hands settled on her hips, and he leaned closer still. “If anger is what drives you for now, I am here to be its target. Because I am not going to allow your self-pity any longer.”
Eva didn’t want to do this. She couldn’t do this. “Aymee!”
Somehow, Aymee heard her through the closed door, which opened not a moment later. Aymee stepped into the room with a pair of crutches.
Eva stared at the crutches in horror. “You’re allowing this?”
Aymee propped them against the bed. “Not only allowing it but encouraging it. You need this, Eva, and Kronus has agreed to help you.”
“I can’t.”
“Have you tried?” Kronus demanded.
Eva gripped her left thigh. “Kronus, I can’t do this.”
His skin flashed red. “You can, and you will,” he said, voice dropping low. “Only after you have fallen down and pulled yourself up a thousand times will I accept that you cannot.”
Tears of fear, pain, and frustration filled her eyes. She looked to Aymee, silently begging the woman to put a stop to this, to just let her be, but Aymee offered only an encouraging smile.
“If you need me, I’ll be nearby,” Aymee said gently, making her way to the door.
“You can’t leave me with him!”
“You’re in good hands, Eva.”
Eva stared at the open doorway in disbelief. This was real. It wasn’t a dream, or a nightmare, it was her life. Movement at the edge of her vision called her attention to the crutches.
One of Kronus’s tentacles had slithered over the bed, slipped through the gaps beneath the arm-pads on both crutches, and lifted them. Removing his hands from her hips, he passed the crutches into his left hand and held them upright at the bedside.
“Come, female.”
Eva shook her head. “No.”
“If you prefer to walk without these sticks, I will make you do that instead.”
Eva pressed her lips together and gritted her teeth. “Fine.”
Kronus backed up slightly, allowing Eva some space as she tossed the blanket aside and scooted her bottom to the edge of the bed. Her bare right foot settled on the cool floor. She scowled down at her stump.
Shifting h
is position, Kronus grasped her left bicep and tugged her off the bed — onto her foot.
Eva gasped, balance wavering. “No! No, I’m not ready!”
“Lying in bed will not make you ready.” The solidness of his hold maintained her balance, prevented her from pitching too far forward or back. He extended his other arm to hold the crutches in front of her. “Do you know how to use these?”
“No.”
Suddenly Kronus was before her, a wall of ochre skin and sculpted muscle. He guided her hand to his shoulder; she wasn’t sure why until he released his hold on her. She dug her nails into his skin, clutching at him to keep her balance. Days in bed with little to no food had weakened her and left her shaky.
She wasn’t sure she could do this, whether she wanted to or not.
Kronus separated the crutches from each other and, without ceremony, shoved their padded ends under her arms. He directed her right hand to the grip further down the crutch before moving her left hand off him and repeating the process. Without his support, she was forced to spread her weight between her foot and the crutches.
“Now what?” she asked.
He backed away from her; it was her first opportunity to watch his entire body move, to study the strange gait created by his tentacles simultaneously pulling and pushing to drag him over the floor. The muscles of his middle bunched and stretched, and Eva found herself staring. The defined muscles of his abdomen were suddenly quite appealing.
Kronus stopped in the doorway. “Walk.”
Eva blinked, dragging her gaze up to meet his eyes. “How?”
“Just move,” he growled, his skin flaring red once more, but it wasn’t so quick to revert to its normal color. “You have three legs now instead of one, and you still continue this whining?”
“You are such an ass!” she snapped. How dare he? He had no idea what she was going through, what she’d lost. He had no right to judge her!
She lifted one of the crutches and moved it forward. The cushion pressed into her armpit uncomfortably. She shifted her weight onto the crutch, lifted her leg, and immediately tipped to the side.
Her heart lurched, and she squeezed her eyes shut, body tensing for the inevitable impact.
Strong hands grasped her upper arms, halting her fall. She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to find Kronus in front of her again. What was the appropriate response? Gratitude, laughter, tears? She didn’t know how to feel.
“The sticks are your leg,” he said in a low voice, standing her back up. “Together. Do you understand?”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked again. “Why do you care?”
“Because I do. Now walk.” He pulled away again, tentacles stretching and contracting as he returned to the open doorway.
“Why are you so damn bossy?” she demanded even as she obeyed his command.
Using both crutches at the same time provided much better balance, but she was still weak from lack of exercise and food, and wobbled one way or another many times. Each time, Kronus was there to catch her. Over and over he spat that same word — walk — and whenever she neared him, he moved farther away, leading her on the slowest, most pathetic chase around the clinic she could imagine. Eva cursed him the entire way.
She grew more accustomed to the crutches with each passing minute, but walking with them became increasingly taxing as her limited strength waned.
Eva stopped in the clinic hall, limbs shaking and perspiration dampening her hair. She couldn’t keep her limbs from trembling. “Enough!”
Kronus swept his gaze over her from head to toe and back again and nodded once. He moved close to her, placed a steadying hand on her back, collected the crutches from her weary arms, and passed them to a tentacle. She sagged against him, and he bent slightly to scoop her into his arms. Moments later, he had her back in the room, settled on the edge of the bed with the crutches against the wall nearby. She hated him for his mobility, hated him for how easy it was for him.
He captured her chin firmly between his finger and thumb and tilted her face up to meet his gaze. She glared at him and grasped his wrist. He’d been nothing but rude and pushy, and she wasn’t in the mood to take even one more of his damned commands or insults.
“You did well, female,” he said softly. His golden eyes shone with gentle praise, gleamed with pride.
Pride for her.
Something within Eva broke. Her heart quickened, and she couldn’t look away from him. His pulse thrummed beneath her fingers, matching the speed of her own. He shifted closer and lifted his free hand, brushing hair away from her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His skin had changed color again — a faint maroon tint.
One of his tentacles slid over her foot and coiled up her calf. Eva’s lips parted, and her eyes flared. His suction cups, each of which lightly kissed her skin as they moved, sent tingles through her; they were at once stronger and softer than any lips could’ve been.
Desire filled her, unbidden and undeniable. Her breasts felt suddenly heavier, the tips of her nipples hardened beneath the gown, and heat suffused her as his touch traveled higher. Her grip on his wrist tightened. She didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer.
How could her body react so strongly to a kraken’s touch? It was more powerful than anything she’d ever felt with Blake. How would those suction cups feel on other parts of her body? Her stomach, her breasts, her…sex?
Kronus’s nostril’s flared. He narrowed his eyes, and his pupils expanded from horizontal slits into rectangles. The tentacle around her leg rose higher still, settling on her thigh. The color of his skin slowly deepened from a mere tint to full-blown maroon as he released her chin to lay his fingers along her jaw. His gaze dipped to her lips. Tension radiated from his body, and his tentacles shifted restlessly on the floor.
When he leaned his head closer, she tilted her face toward him, sliding the tip of her tongue over her lips in anticipation. The moment felt right, despite everything that had led to it. Perhaps it was desperation, or a need to feel something, anything, beside pain and sorrow. Perhaps it was a need to feel like she mattered to someone, somewhere.
Another of his tentacles trailed over her left leg.
The sensation was so startling to the new, sensitive skin of her wound that Eva released her hold on his wrist and cringed away from him.
Whatever madness had overcome her shattered at that instant.
“Don’t,” she rasped.
Kronus drew back, his skin shifting to deep red before reverting, slowly, to its normal ochre. His hands and tentacles fell away, but she didn’t miss how his fingers curled into fists at his sides. His chest swelled with a deep inhalation.
“Don’t,” she repeated, reaching for the discarded blanket at the end of the bed. She pulled it over her legs; it was a meager shield, but it was better than nothing.
Her chest was tight with emotion, her body still thrummed with desire, but it was too much. She wasn’t…she wasn’t whole. He’d touched her, there, where a piece of her was missing. Hiding beneath a blanket wouldn’t bring her leg back, but at least she wouldn’t have to look at it. At least she wouldn’t have to be reminded that she was incomplete.
As though I can ever forget.
He darted toward her suddenly, moving with enough speed to make her jump back on the mattress. His clawed hand swung toward her. Before she could even squeeze her eyes shut in fear of the coming blow, he snatched the blanket and tore it away from her.
“This is you now!” he snarled, jabbing a finger toward her left leg, his skin pulsing crimson. “You do not have to like it, but you will have to accept it. You cannot turn away from this, you cannot pretend it did not happen, and I will not allow you to. Your krullshit ends here and now!”
Fury blazed within her, hot and explosive.
“You do not get to tell me how I feel!” she screamed, grabbing the nearest loose object. She twisted, swinging her arm, and used all her strength to hurl it at him.
Eve
n with almost no time to react and less than a meter of distance between them, Kronus was almost fast enough to catch the pillow. His hands closed around it the same instant it struck his face. For a moment, he was still, terribly still, and then he threw the pillow across the room. He bared his teeth, eyes smoldering with anger.
Eva dug her fingers into the bedding as she glared at him. “You have no damned right!”
“This is you,” he repeated in a low voice, his red skin belying his relatively controlled tone. “There was not any good reason for what happened to you, but it is done. Your scars are no cause for shame. You received your wound with honor and selflessness. You have no reason to hide.”
For a moment, Eva was speechless, her features relaxing slightly. He raged, she could tell by the tension radiating from him, from his eyes, and the color of his skin, but his words were…kind, in their own way. Why was he still here with her? Why did he endure her pessimism, her anger, her ungratefulness?
Eva studied him as the silence stretched between them, their harsh breaths the only sounds in the room.
What did he mean that she had no reason to hide?
His words from the pasture came back to her in a rush.
I am no longer worthy of my home.
“What are you hiding from, Kronus?” she asked softly.
The muscles of his jaw bulged, making the cords of his neck stand out. His skin reverted to its normal coloring slowly; she had the sense that he was willing it to do so, fighting back whatever turmoil was within him.
“You have earned some rest. I will find Aymee and ask about your next meal.” He turned away, gathered the pillow off the floor, and tossed it, along with the wadded blanket, onto the foot of the bed. That done, he moved toward the door, his upper body oddly stiff in contrast to the fluidity of tentacles.
Eva watched him go with a frown. When she could no longer hear the familiar drag of his movements from the hallway, she looked down at her left leg and raised it. The bit remaining below her knee — little more than a nub — moved with ease. There was nothing to weigh it down; no shin, ankle, or foot to lift, and she could not help her emotional response to the sight. It was unnatural. Incomplete. She could almost see, in her mind’s eye, what her leg had looked like before.
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