Page 58 of Heart of the Deep

Dracchus didn’t raise himself on his tentacles, didn’t draw in a deep breath and flex his muscles, didn’t even change his color. He just stared unflinchingly into Neo’s blazing eyes.

“All the humans in the Facility are my people. Anyone who violates that and attempts to do them harm is no longer kraken to me and will be crushed.” Dracchus shifted his gaze to Kronus, then Orphus, and lastly Leda. The time for threats had indeed passed; this was a promise.

The female smirked and approached him, arching her back to thrust her breasts forward. “You will not touch me, Dracchus, unless it is to mate me.” She extended an arm, trailing a finger over one of his shoulder stripes. “You would not risk the punishment for doing me harm and leave your human slits unprotected.”

He caught her wrist and forced her hand away. “Should you make it necessary, Leda, Rhea would gladly put you in your place.”

Leda’s expression darkened into a scowl. Dracchus allowed her to snatch her arm away.

Despite their behavior, he didn’t want to hurt any of these kraken. Not yet. But he knew they were capable of treachery, and that at least some of the human-opposed kraken were willing to follow through with their threats.

“We are not through,” Kronus growled.

Neo remained close to Dracchus, lips tight. His shoulders heaved with strained breaths.

“For your sake, you had better be.” Dracchus held Neo’s gaze, allowing the ensuing silence to emphasize his words, for several heartbeats.

When no one offered a reply, Dracchus finally turned — secretly hoping they’d mistake his exposed back for a vulnerability and attack — and left the chamber.

He heard no more voices as he made his way toward the Cabins.

That Kronus and his followers were in a random, functionless room so close to the human dwellings was an unspoken threat, one they’d made frequently over the last year. Apart from the Mess, where the kraken met to organize hunts or for the rare occasions warranting a group discussion, few of the males spent time in this part of the Facility. The group’s only purpose here was to ensure the humans could not travel the halls safely.

Randall and Rhea’s door was closed when Dracchus reached it. Rather than disturb them — hestillwasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with Randall — he went to the den he shared with Larkin.

Inside, the bathroom door was closed, and the unmistakable pattering of water in the shower drifted from behind it.

He moved to the bed and ran a tentacle over the sheets. Her scent lingered on them. He closed his eyes for a moment, casting everything aside to focus on the aroma. His attraction to her didn’t need to be understood, only accepted; it justwas. With everything around him rapidly descending into chaos, he neededsomething simple, powerful, and pure to hold onto, and Larkin provided that.

The water shut off. Dracchus turned toward the bathroom door, easing himself partly onto the bed, and waited.

The door opened. Larkin emerged from the bathroom clad only in a towel, held in place by one of her hands. The cloth was wrapped around her torso, covering her from chest to mid-thigh, leaving tantalizing portions of her pale, brown-flecked skin exposed. Her hair hung wet and loose around her shoulders.

She stopped short when she saw him. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”

He couldn’t prevent himself from surveying her bare flesh. His blood heated, and his prior frustrations faded away, forgotten in a haze of desire. “So you came out to await me in your towel,” he said.

Larkin coughed, her skin flushing. “Actually, I just forgot to grab some clothes.” She turned away from him and walked toward the dresser.

He moved in the same direction, stopping behind her. He settled his hand over hers as she reached for the drawer and gently guided her to turn toward him. She tilted her head back and met his gaze.

“Your skin has changed color,” he said, running the back of his finger lightly down her cheek, along the side of her neck, and over her shoulder. She shivered.

Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. “Yours, too.”

Dracchus hadn’t done so consciously, but she was correct — his skin had shifted to maroon, an open sign of his want. He hooked a claw onto the edge of her towel, where the fabric bridged the shallow between her breasts. “Are you pink beneath this, as well?”

Her breath quickened, and her breasts strained against the towel. “Dracchus, what are you doing?”

He slid a tentacle up Larkin’s bare leg. She flinched but didn’t withdraw. Easing the limb farther up, he coiled it around her thigh. A tremor ran through her, but there was no fear in her eyes. Her skin tasted clean and sweet and bore a hint of something more, something alluring. He leaned closer and inhaled, drawing in her intoxicating scent. Her arousal.

“Seducing my mate,” he replied in a low rumble.

She pressed a hand to his chest but didn’t shove him away. “I’m not your mate.”

“You are,” he said, cupping her cheek and running the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, “you just have not admitted it yet.”

Larkin kept her hand clasped over the towel, resisting the gentle pull of his claw. Her body heat increased. “Dracchus…”

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