Rising from the Depths

by Tiffany Roberts

  “Remove the knife from her throat,” Kronus said, forcing his voice to be as calm and steady as possible. Only a slight trembling ran through his words.

  “Back the fuck off!” Blake shouted. “Get out of here! All of you!”

  Kronus raked his mind, searching all he knew about human body language and communication, wishing he’d had more interaction and had paid more attention. Slowly, he raised his hands to either side, displaying his palms. “I will not leave her, Blake.”

  “And neither will I!” Blake snapped, baring his teeth. His voice softened when he spoke again. “Neither will I. Not…not this time.”

  The tightness in Kronus’s chest, the fire in his blood, demanded violence; a threat to his mate, no matter how small, could be met with nothing less.

  But attacking Blake would only endanger Eva further. It could not be a solution to this situation, not now. And there was something in the man’s eyes Kronus recognized, something deeper and more powerful than anger or jealousy.

  “Just…just let her go, Blake. Let Eva go, and we can talk about this,” said Walter from behind Kronus.

  “No!” Blake’s hand jerked, making Eva wince as the blade cut the fragile skin of her neck. “You just want to take her from me!”

  Kronus clenched his teeth as a fresh surge of fury rose inside him. He spun and slammed his fist into the wall. The humanmade stone collapsed in a crater beneath the blow, with cracks radiating outward from the point of impact. The people just outside the door — Walter included — flinched back.

  “Out,” Kronus growled at them. “Or every one of you will answer for any harm that befalls her.”

  “Kronus—” Macy began.

  “Now!” Kronus roared.

  “Just…be calm,” she said softly.

  His only response was a glare; he made no effort to hide his roiling emotions. Their faces were blurs to him as they shuffled out, kraken and human blending together into a featureless mob.

  Scraping his claws over the wall, he slowly turned back toward Blake and Eva.

  Blake was mumbling to himself, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them to look at Eva. “They’re gone… I let them all die. But she’s here. I…I can’t… Maybe she’ll forgive me? She has to. She’s mine, my wife.”

  “Blake,” Kronus said firmly.

  The man’s head jerked up, and his eyes met Kronus’s. “What? Why are you still here? You…touched her!”

  “I will not leave her. I care for her very much. You do, as well, do you not?”

  “I love her!”

  “Then you need to understand what you are doing to her.”

  “I’m not…” He turned his head and looked at the knife. “She’s angry. I…I needed her to listen, but she kept fighting me. I just needed her to listen. To love me again. I only wanted to touch her…kiss her.”

  Kronus released a long breath. His tentacles writhed on the floor, but he willed himself to betray no further sign of his agitation. Not until she was safe in his arms again. “Have you listened to her?”

  “She doesn’t know what she means. She’s just angry. She’ll…be better soon.”

  Part of Kronus’s mind assessed the distance between himself and the bed, tried to judge the man’s distraction, tried to estimate Blake’s reaction time, but he would not allow that side to take control. This was one of those instances when instinct was not necessarily an ally.

  “Eva is already better, Blake,” Kronus said.

  Blake shook his head. “No. She needs me. She told me. She was…crying, but I didn’t listen. I am now.”

  “Lower the knife and remove the cloth from her mouth. If you are listening, allow her to speak.”

  “She still…she’s still not well. She’s still saying things she doesn’t mean.”

  Kronus battled his urge to move closer. He wanted nothing more than to be near enough to touch her, but he understood Blake’s mindset. He’d been there himself, at one point; he’d been broken, too. That did not make it any easier to curtail his impulses, but it was something.

  “Then you are not willing to listen to her, are you?” Kronus asked.

  “I’m listening, I’m listening… I’m fucking listening! But she won’t listen!” Blake seethed, chest heaving. His hair had fallen around his eyes, and his flushed face glistened with a sheen of sweat.

  Kronus dropped his gaze to Eva’s face. There was fear in her expression, but there was something more there — the strength he’d recognized from the moment he’d freed her from the razorback. She flicked her eyes down once, twice, three times, until he finally followed them with his own. She was twisted with one shoulder toward him, just enough for him to see her fingers working at the rope binding her wrists together, undoing the knot a little at a time.

  “She said she doesn’t want me,” Blake continued. “She’s lying. She joined with me. Me! She’s just mad. We belong together.” He nodded. “We survived, but maybe…maybe we weren’t meant to. Maybe we were supposed to die that day too.” He looked at Eva, and her eyes widened. She shook her head. “We could be with them again. Addison. Sam. Hailey.”

  “No,” Kronus growled, shifting forward before catching himself.

  Blake, eyes rounded, looked at Kronus again. “You! You took her from me! This is your fault!”

  “Then release her and make me pay for it,” Kronus said, holding the man’s gaze. “But if you care for her at all, and this is not simply a means for you to ease your own guilt, you will remove the blade from her throat. If you cared for her, if you loved her, you would want to give her reasons to live, not push her toward death!”

  Blake’s hand shook, and a strange sound escaped him, not unlike the whine of a wounded animal. His shoulders quaked with a heavy sob. “I…loved her, but I…I did horrible things. Said horrible things… I…left them, I left her, and I-I had sex with other women, and…”

  “She is no longer yours, Blake,” Kronus said, as gently as he could manage. “You have done wrong, yes, but…there can be atonement. This is not the way. Let her go. If you blame me, come and face me, but it will not set right what you have done. You must look inward for that.”

  Kronus glanced down to see the ties around Eva’s wrists dangling. She loosened them further, freeing her right hand.

  “I…” Blake searched her face, his expression warring with itself. “I…can’t. All I feel is guilt. So much guilt. It…it would be better… I can give us peace, Eva. I can do that.”

  He leaned his face closer to hers, and the arm holding the knife slacked. It was all the opening Eva needed. She drew back and smacked Blake’s hand, knocking the knife out of his hand. It clattered onto the floor near the foot of the bed.

  Kronus leapt at him.

  Blake released his hold on Eva as Kronus propelled himself over the bed and crashed into the man. They tumbled into the far wall in a heap, knocking over the nightstand and the trinkets atop it to add the sound of something shattering to Blake’s frantic shouts.

  For his part, the human put up an admirable struggle, but even in his madness and panic, Blake could not match Kronus’s strength.

  Kronus caught the man’s flailing limbs with his tentacles and slammed them down against the floor, shifting his body weight atop Blake’s torso. He clasped one hand around Blake’s throat and raised his other in a fist, ready to strike.

  He hesitated for an instant, and in that instant, countless thoughts swirled through his mind. Things that had been said to him during his time here were foremost amongst those thoughts — words offered by Ector and Dracchus, Arkon, Aymee, Breckett and Vasil, but more than any other, Eva. Those words blended seamlessly with his own experiences, and he realized then that he had changed. He had learned, he had grown.

  Even in the Facility, where insults often led to heated fights, thrown fists, and flesh shredded by claws, the worst offenses were judged by the people as a whole, under the guidance of the elders. Kraken fought one another, but they did not kill one another — n
ot unless the situation was dire and could have no other resolution. How was this any different? Blake deserved death in Kronus’s eyes, but Kronus had never been wise, had never been a great thinker. Blake had done wrong, but hadn’t Kronus done wrong, also?

  Kronus had ultimately been shown mercy. He’d been given a second chance, an opportunity to try again. If his own way of thinking had been applied to those decisions, he would have been killed despite his reasons for returning to the Facility after his banishment. He would have remained a traitor to their people simply because it had once been declared so.

  His fist trembled beside his head. It would be so simple a thing to kill Blake, to hammer fist into face until the human choked on his own blood. There would be honor in it; the kraken would see it as the defense of a mate — justified, if somewhat brutal. But the kraken weren’t the only ones who had a say here.

  He eased his hold on Blake’s throat and lowered his shaking hand. Blake was broken; he needed help. Needed support. Needed his people. Perhaps they could show him the way, in time. Perhaps he would accept it — accept that Eva was no longer his and had never really been his to begin with. Kronus was willing to trust the people of The Watch — his people, regardless of their species — to see justice served with honor.

  “Come help!” Eva yelled, her voice breaking through Kronus’s thoughts.

  There was a thump, followed by a grunt, and then she was there, her hands a balm as they smoothed over his shoulders to his chest before she wrapped her arms around him from behind. She pressed her cheek on the back of his neck.

  “I knew you’d come,” she rasped. Her tears fell hot against his skin.

  More footsteps sounded within the room, accompanied by the familiar whisper of tentacles on the floorboards. Quite suddenly, the room felt full to bursting.

  Kronus eased his hold on Blake only when two burly humans stooped down to take hold of the man by his arms and hauled him to his feet. They forced Blake’s hands behind his back, and a third man — Randall — bound his wrists together with the same rope that had been used to bind Eva.

  “I’m sorry,” Blake mumbled. His shoulders shook as he sobbed. “I’m sorry. Sorry…”

  “This is, uh…” Walter’s voice called Kronus’s attention to the man, who stood nearby, his cheeks red as he shook his head. “I don’t know that I’ve seen anything like this since I joined the town council. It’s… Hell, I don’t know. This is a bit beyond the occasional belligerent drunk.”

  “Belligerent drunk is part of it, by the smell,” Randall said as the other two men guided Blake out. The crowd parted, all eyes on Blake as he passed.

  “He’s sick,” Eva said, “and he needs help.”

  “Dr. Rhodes is on his way to examine Blake,” Macy said.

  Kronus rose slowly, gently parting Eva’s arms so he could turn to face her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “He can see to Blake after he checks you.”

  “I’m okay,” Eva said.

  Lifting a hand, Kronus delicately wiped away a bit of the blood welling from the cut on her throat with the pad of his finger.

  “That’s nothing,” she said.

  He frowned and moved his hand higher, touching the bloody spot on her head.

  She winced.

  His frown deepened into a scowl. “This is not nothing.”

  “Well, stop touching them!”

  “Did he harm you anywhere else?” Kronus asked, drawing back slightly to look over her from head to toe.

  “No. He…tried, but I fought him.”

  Kronus moved his hand from her head to rake his claws over his scalp, gritting his teeth tightly enough that they felt ready to shatter. He turned to go after Blake; perhaps mercy had not been the appropriate course.

  Eva leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck to hold him tightly. “Kronus, no. It’s done. Let it be done.”

  He halted and slipped his hands to her backside to support her. Relief flooded him suddenly, unexpectedly, and he pressed his lips to hers in a desperate kiss. All those thoughts he’d cast aside earlier — all the things that could have happened — rushed back to him in that moment. He let them come so he could cast them all aside. She was safe, she was in his arms. That was what mattered. He would not torture himself over what could have been when he had everything he wanted, here and now.

  Her lips moved over his, kissing him back just as fiercely. When she pulled back, her eyes met his. “Take me home, Kronus.”

  Chapter 20

  Leaning both elbows on the table, Kronus dipped his head to study the little figure, turning it delicately between the pads of his fingers. He flicked his eyes to the piece of paper laid on the table nearby. Aymee had drawn a reference of the creature based on holograms from the Facility after extracting a promise from Kronus to make a wooden carving of one for each of the younglings who lived in the houses along the ridge. He’d reluctantly agreed.

  This one was both the first and the most special. He was surprised all its limbs remained intact; two more months of practice since the incident with Blake hadn’t much improved Kronus’s skill, but he was determined to keep to his word. Absently sliding his tongue between his lips, he carefully carved a tiny sliver of wood away from the figurine’s eye.

  When this carved octopus was done, it would await the birth of his coming youngling and be the baby’s first gift.

  He glanced at the drawing again. The tentacles and siphons were familiar, as were the pupils, but the rest of it seemed so alien and strange. Arkon had explained that these creatures — native to the same far away, impossible planet humans had come from — had served a major role in the kraken’s creation. Kronus wasn’t sure if he believed it or not, but he’d learned not to question Arkon on such matters.

  Putting the carving tool down, he held the octopus and its curling tentacles flat on the palm of his hand and raised it to the light streaming in through the window.

  Arms slid around his neck, and Eva pressed against his back.

  “It’s coming along,” she said.

  “Is not the saying it’s coming along nicely?” he asked, emphasizing the last word.

  Eva laughed. “It’s coming along nicely.” She lightly trailed the tip of her finger over one of the wooden tentacles. “It’s cute.”

  “I intended for it to be menacing, not cute.”

  She turned her head and nipped at his siphon. It sent a tingling thrill across his skin. “Nothing can be as menacing as you.”

  He smiled, choosing to take that as a compliment. “Aymee said she would paint them when they are done. Would it be menacing if she painted this one orange?”

  Eva hummed, and he could hear the smile in her tone. “It would look just like its father.”

  Father. It wasn’t a word he’d ever thought about before humans came to the Facility; males sired younglings, that was all. But now that word filled him with equal parts joy, anticipation, and terror. It didn’t seem a role for which one could prepare. As Jax had said, it was a matter of learning as you went along.

  Somehow, that was more intimidating than a razorback hunt — and more exciting.

  Kronus reached forward and placed the wooden octopus on the windowsill. As he did so, Eva plucked up the carving he’d made before she came to share his den — the one-legged human female.

  “I still can’t believe the leg broke off this by accident,” she said.

  “Do you doubt my honesty, female?” he asked, turning within her arms to face her.

  “No,” she replied, setting the figurine down and smiling at him. “I’d call it…fate.”

  “A suitable enough word.” He raised a hand and cupped the back of her head, drawing her down into a kiss. Her body molded to his, and she moaned against his mouth as her lips parted to accept his claim.

  When he finally broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I hunger, Eva.”

  “Well, the picnic is due to start
soon.”

  “Too many people. I would rather stay here.”

  “You promised you would go.”

  He growled low in his chest. “I do not hunger for food.” He moved his hands down her sides while sliding a pair of his tentacles up her legs, slowly lifting her skirt.

  “We’re going to be late,” she whispered, but her gentle shiver conveyed urgency only for one thing.

  As the hem of her skirt reached her mid-thigh, he rose to his full height, lifted her off the floor, and turned to face the table. With one hand, he swept the wood shavings and tools off the surface.

  “Kronus,” she pleaded.

  He knew that breathy tone. Knew what she truly wanted.

  He raised the bunched fabric of her skirt to her waist, and when his hands moved to her hips, they encountered bared flesh — no underwear. His chest rumbled with another growl. His mate had anticipated his touch. Had anticipated him.

  Kronus sat her on the edge of the table with her legs to either side of him and pressed his lips over hers. He ravaged her mouth with lips and tongue, taking care not to hurt her with his teeth.

  “Are you ready for me, my mate?” Kronus asked. His cock strained against his slit, ready to burst free, hungry for her heat. He slipped a hand between her thighs, the pads of his fingers delving into her folds. They both groaned as his fingers glided over her arousal-slickened flesh. She was hot and wet, primed for him.

  It was all the answer he needed from her.

  She sighed and tilted her hips, begging for more. He knew she was waiting for him to stroke that little bud that brought her such pleasure, and he would — but not with his hand.

  He inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet, musky aroma of her desire, and his mouth watered.

  Dropping down, Kronus curled his fingers around her inner thighs, spread her wide, and lowered his mouth to her sex.

  Eva gasped, her body jolting. His shaft extruded the moment her flavor hit his tongue, pulsing in need. Her hands fell upon his head, and she moaned low and deep as his tongue trailed up and down her delicate folds, pausing to flick and tease the bud at the apex of her sex each time. He lapped at every drop of her nectar, and her cries of pleasure — soft at first but gaining in volume and passion — made the most satisfying music he could imagine.