Page 42 of The Kraken Games

But now… he had no prediction for tonight, did he…

Meeting her in the hot pools last night had completely thrown him. At first, he’d lain there, his eyes hovering above the water line, thinking maybe she knew he was there, maybe she’d followed him there to seduce him… His libido had gone nuts at the thought, especially when she slid in opposite him completely naked. But when she’d lain her head back and looked up at the stars, he’d realized she had no idea he was there.

Honor demanded he show himself.

At first, he was sure they were kinda flirting—in that rough way Luna had that excited the fuck out of him. He’d felt his cock swell, his balls tighten.

And then she’d dropped that fucking bombshell.

Over and over since then, he’d told himself she must be lying. His people would not have killed humans fifteen years ago. They knew the potential costs of starting up conflicts again after the Treaty. The death of their younglings from human ammunition was a cost they would not have risked. But… even before that, kraken would never attack a lone civilian boat. And would never leave children, even human ones, to die. It was against all their moral codes.

She had to be lying. She wanted to unnerve him by making him take pity on her.

First, she’d seduced him, now she was playing on his sympathetic hearts.

Bitterness sat in his mouth, metallic and ugly as he stared back at his reflection. All his life he’d wanted to compete in the games, but now… it felt hollow. The posturing, the play acting, the pulling, pushing, tugging, thumping, hollering. It was all so damn nonsensical.

Victory felt good for a few moments while the adrenalin rushed through your blood, but it was transient, and then the hollow feeling was back, eating at your gut. Like you were never going to measure up. And that wasn’t all. Working his scarred tentacles this hard was playing havoc with the pain. It was like red hot rods shooting into his body at night, keeping him awake. It hadn’t been this bad for years.

His eyes reflected pain back at him, like the chasms of the ocean out past Thedaka. Bottomless, said to be full of the ghosts of kraken killed by… killed byhumans. Was that all he was destined for—pain and empty victories? And falling for a human woman who hated his guts?

He jerked, and all his tentacles jerked along with him. A wake-up call.

This was all he’d ever wanted, wasn’t it? To compete in the games. It was the highest pinnacle a kraken male could attain.

To be The Chosen.

To be a warrior. To reach Metan with honor.

That scowly little human could bleat all she liked about losing her loved ones. His people had lost whole generations to humans over the centuries. It was even said that humans hung krakens’ remains on the bows of their boats to warn off others.

The krakens had no choice but to retaliate. It was sink human boats or perish.

Kai hardened his hearts.

So what? So what if one or two wreckings had happened since the Treaty? Who was he to sit in judgment of his own people? There had been centuries of bloodshed before that. The havoc humans wrought during the Great War. Cannon balls littered the streets of Thedaka still, the old buildings pocked by ammunition.

He set his jaw, flexed his arms and fingers, smoothed them through his hair.

Was she putting on her costume? Applying her war paint? Some of the contestants sure got themselves up for the occasion. There was no dress code.

Just no exposure of genitalia.

Despite himself, a little quirk of humor kicked his mouth up. She’d slay him in minutes if she flashed her hot little pussy at him, pathetic male that he was. The image gave him a whoosh of adrenalin, sending a tingle down to the root of his cock.

Tonight, he would be victorious. And that little human would wish she’d never tangled with him.

Shen’s head popped around the door. “Ready?”

“Almost. Is she here?”

“Been prepping in her dressing room for an hour now.”

Kai thinned his lips, rotated his shoulders. And stared at his reflection until he felt like nothing more than a machine. Then he turned and strode out of the change room.

Outside in the arena, the lights seemed brighter, the crowds denser. He guessed everyone was here for the final fight.

There had been so much publicity, so much talk. He’d had to laugh reading theMotham Timesthis morning. They’d tried to interview Luna but all they had was a photo of her walking away at speed with her hoodie pulled over her face.

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