Rising from the Depths

by Tiffany Roberts

  If she stopped and forced herself to consider it rationally, it was just a leg. A leg that happened to end quite a bit sooner than it used to. It was different, yes, but it was still the same thing it had always been.

  She shifted her gaze to the crutches against the wall. Using them hadn’t been easy, hadn’t been comfortable, hadn’t been pleasant, but…it had been better than nothing.

  It had been a start.

  Chapter 10

  Kronus returned several times over the next few days, rarely leaving Eva alone. He made sure she ate every bite of every meal and forced her to get up and move regularly. They bickered frequently — he issued commands she often defied, usually just to spite him. Despite the struggles, Eva pushed herself just as hard as he did.

  The crutches became easier to use as she recovered her strength. Kronus responded to her increasing endurance by making her walk farther every time; when he decided she’d mastered walking around the clinic, he made her go outside. Though he didn’t relent to her complaints about going outside, he never forced her beyond the street immediately in front of the clinic, and she appreciated that small courtesy.

  He was always gruff with her, but his constant presence and willingness to catch her whenever she fell made it clear that he cared about her wellbeing — even if she couldn’t figure out why. He refused to accept whining or self-pity. And though he often angered and riled her, Eva found herself looking forward to his visits.

  The more time they spent together, the more she noticed his little quirks — from the slight twist of his lips when something amused him to the subtle changes in coloration that flashed over his skin, signaling shifts in mood he otherwise masked.

  The rest was more difficult to figure out. She’d realized after her first few prolonged conversations with him — if they could be called that — that there was far more information to be gleaned from what Kronus didn’t say than what he did. He wasn’t a fan of answering questions, and though it frustrated her, his evasiveness had soon begun to shape a picture of what went on inside his head.

  If her inferences were right, Kronus was as lonely and broken as she was. Was that why he sought to help her? To find companionship, as terrible as hers might be?

  Kronus’s physical differences, while impossible to ignore, had almost become familiar to her. She didn’t fear his claws or sharp teeth and was fascinated by his tentacles and their movement, which also changed subtly based on his mood…and she never forgot the way they felt against her bare skin.

  She found herself often thinking back to their near-kiss, recalling the way he’d held her chin, the way he’d looked at her as though she were all he could see, and the little kisses from his suction cups as his tentacle had caressed her leg.

  Though she had imagined his mouth meeting hers many times since then, she couldn’t begin to guess how his lips would feel. Kronus seemed comprised of unpredictable contrasts. His skin was soft but the muscle beneath was rock-solid; his demeanor was gruff and irritable, but his actions were considerate; and he was large and almost brutish in appearance but moved with grace and confidence, handling her with the utmost gentleness. His lips looked soft and yielding, but would they prove firm and unforgiving instead?

  She finally pried her eyes from his lips, raised a spoonful of stew to her mouth, and ate. As she chewed, she watched him. His attention was on the piece of wood in his left hand. His right hand moved a knife along the wood, shaving off bits and pieces to slowly shape something new. It was the third time she’d seen him at the task.

  “My father used to carve like that,” she said after swallowing her food.

  “Poorly?” he asked without looking up. There was a small pile of wood shavings on the floor beneath him; Aymee’s admonishments had yet to deter him.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Grasping the carving between two fingers, he held it up as though it supported his statement without further comment. It was a four-legged creature with a long neck and little horns that looked like they’d snap off at the most delicate touch.

  “Oh, it’s a perfectly good sheep,” she said, barely keeping a straight face.

  His jaw clenched for a moment. “It is a krull,” he replied.

  An amused sound escaped Eva. She returned her attention to the stew, hurriedly scooping another spoonful into her mouth to stifle her laughter. Kronus glared at her with low brows from the corner of her eye. To her surprise, one corner of his mouth tipped up slightly before he lowered his head and resumed his carving.

  She chewed silently, watching his hands move. And they were nice hands. Really nice. Large, strong, with long lean fingers, and…

  Eva swallowed and cleared her throat. “He used to carve little animals and people for me and my siblings when we were kids. We had an entire farm with enough people to make a village.” She looked down into her half-empty bowl. “He’s a trapper, so he spent a lot of time in the jungle. He’d bring home chunks of wood, and we’d all gather around him and watch him doing what you’re doing now. My elder brother picked up the talent, but I didn’t. I was never really any good with my hands when it came to small, detailed things. Probably because I always had trouble sitting still long enough to get anything done.”

  He was quiet for a time, and in that silence, she thought she could almost hear the faint sound of the knife moving over the wood.

  “Your home is far from here, is it not?” he finally asked.

  Eva frowned, set the spoon in the bowl, and absently rubbed her arm. Did she have a home anymore? She’d given up her childhood home to be with Blake, and the home she’d made with him was gone now.

  But she hadn’t left her family on bad terms; however hard it had been to move on, Eva’s relationship with her parents and siblings remained intact.

  “Yeah, it is,” she said.

  He exhaled heavily. “I know how difficult that can be. Your family may not be here, but I am sure they care for you very much.”

  His words helped a little. She missed her family terribly, and the reminder that they cared provided some comfort.

  “What about you?” Eva looked up at him. “Do you have family?”

  “Kraken do not…did not have family the way humans do.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I know you said kraken prefer solitude, but…surely you had a mother? A father?”

  “I never knew my sire and was only with my mother until I was of age to hunt with the males,” he replied. His hands stilled, and he lifted his face to meet her gaze. “Things are…different now for some of my people.”

  “Because of…us? The humans who joined with kraken here in The Watch?”

  “Because of both your people and mine.” He looked at the carving again, which he turned slowly in his hand. “Not all kraken welcomed those changes, just as they have not been welcomed by all humans.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not one of them, isn’t it?”

  His shoulders rose and fell with a deep inhalation. His color darkened, but the change was subtle enough that it almost seemed a trick of her eyes. “I was.”

  Eva stared at him while idly tracing the edge of the spoon handle with the tip of a finger. “Why are you here then, Kronus?”

  “Why do you insist on knowing?” he growled. “Why is it so important for you to have an answer for that?”

  Eva glared at him. “Maybe I’m just trying to get to know you, to understand you!” She pressed her lips together and took a slow, steadying breath. “You make it really difficult.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, but his lips parted briefly as though in surprise. He regained his composure quickly and pointed to her bowl. “Eat.”

  She met his gaze and held it. “Make me.”

  Kronus set aside his knife and the carving and pushed himself toward the bed. His approach halted only when the door opened.

  Aymee stepped inside carrying a large basket in her arms. Her eyes flicked between Kronus and Eva several times before dropping to the pil
e of wood shavings on the floor. She scowled. “Damnit, Kronus, I told you not to do that in here!”

  “You act as though your people did not invent brooms,” Kronus snapped.

  “Then learn to use one!”

  He extended a tentacle toward the pile, keeping his gaze locked with Aymee’s.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare.”

  The end of his tentacle curled and drew back from the pile slightly — not a retreat, but the wind-up for a swing.

  “Kronus, I swear, if you—”

  His tentacle swept forward, scattering the wood shavings across a half-meter long portion of the floor.

  Aymee’s growl of frustration was drowned out by a burst of laughter; though Eva struggled to contain it, she only laughed harder the more she fought. Tears welled in her eyes, her chest ached, and Kronus and Aymee stared at her in shock, but it felt good.

  Her laughter soon died down as she caught her breath and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “Okay then,” Aymee said, clearing her throat and battling away her smile before she looked at Kronus. “You’re still cleaning it up.”

  “Fine,” Kronus replied. His golden eyes didn’t move away from Eva; they shone with a new light, one she hadn’t seen before.

  Aymee stepped farther into the room and set the basket onto the counter. All mirth slipped away from her features, and she winced as she spoke. “Blake came by today.”

  Eva’s smile fled, and her heart thumped hard in her chest.

  “Why did you not tell me? I would gladly have cast him out,” Kronus grumbled.

  “He didn’t stay long. He wanted…” Aymee glanced at the basket. “He brought your belongings, Eva.”

  Eva stared at the basket silently.

  So that was it. Everything she owned tucked away neatly in a basket, as easily cast aside as she had been. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears. The humor she’d experienced a moment before made this hurt even more.

  Aymee sighed, glanced at Kronus with an arched a brow, and looked back to Eva. “I will be outside if you need me.” She closed the door quietly behind her once she’d slipped out of the room.

  Eva’s attention returned to the basket, which was reduced to a brown blur through her welling tears.

  “How does this make you feel?” Kronus asked in a menacingly low voice.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, pushing aside the food tray and the half-eaten stew. She didn’t owe Kronus anything. She’d never asked for him to be here.

  Kronus inserted himself between Eva and the basket. His skin was scintillating with shades of red as he grasped the bedrail and leaned closer to her. “How do you feel, human? Sorry for yourself? Sad?”

  Eva drew back and glared at him. “Leave me alone, Kronus.”

  “Did you lose your leg or your spine? You are pathetic,” he sneered.

  Her hand flew up and connected with his cheek before she even registered its movement. The crack of flesh meeting flesh resounded through the room, and his head snapped to the side with the force. Her palm stung from the impact.

  She recoiled as he turned his face back toward her; she hadn’t meant to do it, hadn’t even thought about it.

  There was a fire in his eyes, but it wasn’t fueled by the fury she’d expected. Maroon rippled across his skin, mingling with the crimson. “Are you angry, female?”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Are you angry?” he growled, looming over her. “Are you angry about the way I talk to you? About the deaths of your friends, about the loss of your leg, about the way your mate abandoned you like you were a piece of refuse he’d grown tired of?”

  Fresh tears, tears of anguish and fury, gathered in her eyes. She pressed her hands to his shoulders and shoved, but he didn’t budge. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because anger is a tool, and you have failed to utilize yours to its full potential. Be angry, Eva. Latch onto it. He cannot harm you in your fury. Latch onto it and see how strong you are!”

  “I can’t!”

  “If you couldn’t, you would have died with them.” He reached forward and grasped her jaw. She could feel the pinpricks of his claws against her cheeks. “You fought for them. Now is the time to fight for yourself. You deserve better than what Blake has given you. And you will not lie down and take whatever krullshit he or anyone else tries to throw your way. You are better than all of them, and you will know it if I have to shout it at you every day for the rest of your life!”

  Eva blinked, her tears falling as she stared into his eyes, searching them; they were filled with fury, passion, a hint of desperation, but above all a sense of need. His lips were pulled back, his sharp teeth bared, their white color a stark contrast to the red tones of his skin.

  She reached out and cupped his jaw. “Why are you doing this for me, Kronus?” she asked softly, brushing her thumb over his cheek.

  He nearly recoiled from her touch, confusion flitting across his expression — as though the last thing he expected was for his aggression to be answered with gentleness.

  “Because someone must remind you of your worth even if you cannot see it yourself,” he replied.

  “Does anyone see yours?”

  His brow furrowed, and the tension faded from his jaw as his mouth fell open. His eyes shifted from side to side without looking away from hers. “I have done things that cannot be forgiven, Eva,” he rasped.

  The rawness of his answer stunned Eva. She hadn’t expected him to respond, hadn’t expected this vulnerability in him. Perhaps she was looking into it too deeply, but she couldn’t help feeling like he’d opened himself to her, if only in a tiny way, had shown his trust in her.

  “Because they won’t forgive you, or because you won’t forgive yourself?” she asked, sliding her fingers over his jaw soothingly.

  He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. His hold on her face eased slightly, and the pads of his fingers trailed over her skin with surprising delicacy despite the strength he possessed. Just as he seemed on the verge of leaning closer still, he lowered his hand and withdrew from her touch.

  Kronus opened his eyes and met her gaze. “I am here for you, Eva. And I will not let you fall.”

  Chapter 11

  Kronus was gone when Eva woke the next morning. She looked around the room; the wood shavings had been cleaned up, the door was closed, and golden sunlight streamed in through the gauzy curtains. Eva frowned as she sat up.

  It was strange not having him beside her, whether he was pushing her through exercises, forcing her to eat, or carving a piece of wood with an exaggerated look of concentration on his face. For days now, he’d been there when she went to sleep and when she rose. A pang of guilt struck her. When did he rest? Didn’t he long for his home, for his own space? He’d stuck by her, pushing her to do better and refusing to let her wallow in self-pity.

  I will do better.

  He’d been right. She was alive, and it was because of him. Twice he’d saved her, and he continued to make her fight, continued to insist she was worth saving. It was time she showed Kronus that she wanted to live. That she was willing and able to fight for herself.

  Deciding to take advantage of the privacy, Eva pushed herself to the edge of the bed, grabbed her crutches, and propped the pads under her arms. Sliding the rest of the way off the bed, she found her balance and walked to the bathroom.

  Though it was a simple, plain room, it benefited from the clinic’s status as one of the surviving structures from the colonization — there was a toilet and a sink with running water on one side, and a large showerhead on the other with a drain in the tile floor beneath it. A floral-patterned curtain provided the only color in the room. Sturdy-looking handles were bolted to the wall near the shower, and a seat jutted out from beneath them.

  Eva relieved herself and quickly stripped out of the clinic gown. Her flesh pebbled at the chill in the air. She turned on the shower and stepped into the spray as soon as the
water was steaming, leaving her crutches against the wall outside the splash zone.

  The hot water sluiced down her body, and she nearly moaned at how good it felt. She’d been surprised by the easily accessed hot water the first time she’d showered here two days ago. Nothing in Emmiton had been maintained well enough to grant hot water on command; a warm bath meant building a fire first. Though most homes in The Watch had running water, she didn’t know anyone who could turn on their faucets and have hot water on demand.

  She’d asked Aymee about it, and Aymee had explained that more resources had been devoted to keeping the clinic running than any other building in town simply to ensure that the townsfolk had the best care possible over the long years since the first colonists landed.

  Once she’d finished showering, she dried off, dressed, collected her crutches, and returned to her room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing her hair when there was a knock at the door, which opened a few moments later. Aymee poked her head through, caught Eva’s gaze, and grinned.

  “I have a surprise for you,” she said, stepping into the room.

  There was a familiar, faint dragging sound behind her, and Eva watched expectantly for Kronus, her heart suddenly fluttering. Except it wasn’t Kronus who entered the room behind Aymee. Though this kraken looked about as tall as Kronus, he had a leaner build, and his skin was blue-gray with dark stripes on his head, shoulders, and tentacles. He had a long, black container in his hands. Eva couldn’t tell by looking at it if it was plastic or metal.

  “Eva, this is my mate, Arkon,” Aymee said, turning her head to smile at the male. The adoration was clear in her eyes.

  A voice — Hailey’s voice — echoed in Eva’s mind.

  How can anyone stand to be touched by those things? They’re disgusting. It’s probably like being touched by a bunch of worms, all cold and slimy.

  But the kraken’s tentacles weren’t cold and slimy, and Kronus’s touches hadn’t made Eva think of worms at all. The kraken were just people, with likes and dislikes, with feelings that could be hurt just like her own. And they were capable of love.