He flinched. Somehow, Larkin kept a straight face, but inside, guilt twisted through her like barbed wire. He hadn’t deserved that.
Randall composed himself and looked up to Dracchus again. “You and I are going to have words, kraken.”
“We will, human,” Dracchus replied.
Rhea gently coaxed Randall back toward the bed as Dracchus steered Larkin into the hallway. The prixxir, who’d been sitting silently, chirruped. Larkin turned her head toward it. The kraken child was beside the creature, staring at Larkin with wide, curious, innocent eyes until the door closed.
Chapter 13
The room Dracchus had led Larkin into was set up like Randall’s — its bed was of similar size, the furniture stood in the same places, even the colors were the same. But this room felt cold. How long had it been since anyone lived in it? A hundred years, two hundred years? More? Despite its disuse, it was clean, and it was the nicest place she’d ever stayed, including her room back home.
She turned toward the softswishof the door closing and got an eyeful of dark skin and muscle. She’d been aware of his presence behind her while she surveyed the room, but she hadn’t realized he was so close. Dracchus had become her living shadow.
Tilting her head back, she met his gaze. “Thank you. For bringing me here, and for the room.”
He offered a soft grunt in response and regarded her with a frown. She was beginning to understand that his grunts were a language all their own, but she hadn’t yet decoded their meanings.
Larkin shifted her weight to one leg as he stared. “I’m sure you’re ready to be back in your own bed, or whatever you sleep in, so, um, goodnight.”
“This is our den,” he replied.
“What?” Her brows creased. “I don’t think I—”
“This isourden.” Though he didn’t raise his voice, his tone left no room for argument.
“Okay, hold up,” she said, lifting her hands, palms toward him.
She will share a den with me.
Her tired mind hadn’t quite registered what Dracchus had meant when he said that to Randall. Had he been serious?
She ismine.
Oh shit, shit, shit!
What had she gotten herself into?
Larkin cleared her throat and retreated a step. “Is this your room? Cause if it is, I’ll gladly take another and leave you to it.”
“I know humans do not often speak plainly, but do you also have trouble understanding plain speech? This den belongs to both of us. We will stay here together.”
Larkin bristled. “I have no fucking trouble understanding, but maybeyoushould speak more plainly. Why do we need to share this room? There are a dozen other rooms in this hallway! I understand we shared a campsite, but haven’t I proven myself trustworthy yet?” She advanced toward Dracchus, glaring up at him. “Do you seriously think, after everything, that I am going to try anything to harm your people?”
He held her gaze, and a fire sparked in his amber eyes — but it wasn’tanger. “You will share this den with me because of the harm my people may try to inflict uponyou,” he said evenly. “You are under my protection, and I can only fulfill my duty by being near. You, more than any of the humans here, have earned the hatred of some kraken.”
One of his tentacles slipped around her waist and drew her closer. “And you aremine, female. This is your place now.”
Larkin’s breath hitched at his words. The heat of his body seeped through her diving suit, and his tentacle was like a brand around her waist, deliciously hot and as sturdy as a shackle. She put her hands on his chest and pushed, tilting her upper body away from his. He didn’t give at all; she wasn’t going anywhere until he allowed it.
“What do you mean by yours?” she asked. “Am I your prisoner now?”
“No.” He cupped her jaw with one of his big hands and leaned closer. The fire in his eyes intensified, its heat scorching Larkin to her core. “You are my mate.”
She stared at him, her breath rapid and heart racing.
What right did he have to decide that?
“Fuck that!” She jerked her face away from his hand and pushed against his chest. “You can’t just do that! I’m not going to…tomatewith you!”