Page 33 of The Kraken Games

She hated kraken. And she hated Kai. And she had to hold on to that, the way she’d hung on to that plank of wood when her parents drowned, and Tomas disappeared in the tentacles of one of their vile kind.

And if her flashbacks helped to keep her strong, determined… so be it.

Fixing her gaze on the cobbled pavers, she slowed her breathing until the flashbacks passed, then glanced behind her once more.

If that kraken followed her here, she’d… she’d stab him in the eyes with her fingers.

And then you’d fucking jump his bones.

Cursing under her breath, Luna broke into a run. Truth was, seeing Kai had been such a shock it had ripped through her armor somehow, exposing her soft underbelly. Made her feel stuff she didn’t want to feel.

Damn it. She’dwantedto hurt him. Who cared if hewashurt?

Focusing on her breath, she picked up her pace, the thoughts receding as she ran, harder, faster, until all that was left was the burn in her lungs.

Finally at the river mouth, she stopped, panting hard, and bent over, hands on her knees, to catch her breath. Straightening, she sighed with relief as she saw Marrick standing near the mud flats. But, oh. Her pulse sped up again. Who was with him?

Harper and… Noah.

Luna groaned.

She had said it was okay for Harper to bring him, and she guessed if she was going to have an audience while she repeatedly fell flat on her face in mud, then she couldn’t wish for two sweeter folk, but she felt so… raw. Like her skin had been torn off. When she was like this she didn’t want to be around people, even friends.

She steadied herself. Pinned back her shoulders and took a deep breath, before calling out and waving with a big fake grin plastered to her lips.

In barely a week she would be fighting the kraken she’d fucked.

Right now, she needed all the support she could get.

“Nooooo. Marrick, you bastard!” Luna shouted.

It was half an hour later and she was covered in mud from head to toe. It stung her eyes, it squelched between her toes and matted her hair, and her only consolation was that Marrick was pretty much covered too.

She heard Harper squeal from the shore. “Go, Luna, you’ve got this.”

She was caught in the crook of Marrick’s arm, but thanks to the slipperiness of the mud she somehow freed her elbow and shoved it hard into his jaw. She heard the snap of her funny bone, felt the pang of the nerve tingling all the way down her arm, and with a howl he loosened his grip, just enough for her to wriggle free. She plopped into the mud, almost losing her balance, then righted herself and dived for freedom. He was after her in a second, grabbing her leg, and she fell, her mouth filling up with acrid slimy mud, but she kicked hard, and made contact with another sickening crack to his jaw.

“Fuck!” she heard Marrick bellow.

No room for sympathy; he’d nearly dragged her into the dungeon.

She made another strange hop/dive, clumsy in the ankle-deep mud, and reached the parameter, a piece of rope they’d slung over a rock as a makeshift boundary to the ring. It wasn’t the real deal, but it was good enough. After four years, in which Marrick had been dragged into the dungeon by Acha, they could simulate a pretty good mock-up.

Luna pumped a victorious fist in the air, panting as she held onto the rope to stop herself from slithering back into the mud.

Marrick was smoothing the mud off his jaw and moving it from side to side. She could see where her body had made contact, it was already swelling.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t be. You did good. That second whack with your foot was what finished me. I saw fucking stars. You were on fire.”

“Thanks. But at the end of the day, we have four limbs, and they have eight.”

“And you have the dexterity and slither of an eel. Don’t forget that.”

“I’ve been working out with hoops at home.” Yeah, sometimes for hours, doing jobs around the house with that damn plastic hoop circling around her waist and hips to improve her ability to wriggle. That and her swimming underwater, the techniques that allowed her to hold her breath for longer.

Truth was, she was as good as she was going to get.

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