Page 60 of Heart of the Deep

“There is plenty wrong with me,” she said. “I’m not what you want, Dracchus. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

He moved closer still, extending an arm, but she shrugged away from his hand.

“I’m getting back in the shower.” She tugged open one of the dresser drawers and rummaged through its contents.

Dracchus stilled, heartbeats stuttering. He took her by the shoulders and forced her to turn toward him.

“I don’t know where they are,” Larkin said with a glare, “but I will kick you square in the balls if you don’t let go.”

“Are you so disgusted by my touch that you must wash yourself again?” he demanded. His lingering, painful arousal had mingled with the hurt of her words, turning into a jumbled, nauseating mess in his chest.

Any anger she’d displayed vanished within the next instant. “No. That’s not what I… Fuck.” She looked away. “It’s not you, Dracchus. I’m not…disgusted.” Her grip on the towel tightened. “I just need some space to figure this out. I’m not…good with this kind of thing.”

He was uncertain of whether he felt reassured by her answer, uncertain of whether she’dmeantto be reassuring. At his core, he understood he wasn’t good at things like this, either. He didn’t even know what exactlythiswas, apart from totally new to him…but he wanted it nonetheless.

Dracchus released his hold on her shoulders and moved back. His limbs felt oddly heavy and unstable; if a body could be strengthened by rage, it made sense that it could be weakened by sadness or doubt. Still, it was an unfamiliar sensation, and that unsettled him. Had Jax and Arkon gone through similar feelings? How had they coped?

“I will grant you space,” he said. “At least for a short while.”

“Thank you.” She offered him a small, grateful smile and turned back to the dresser.

For a few moments, he watched her, unable but to notice the curve of her backside against the fabric covering it. Then he forced himself to turn away and move toward the door. He’d only just returned to their den, and he’d no desire to leave it — to leaveher— but if it was what Larkin needed, he’d grant her request. It was for the best. Despite this exchange, his blood was still hot, his desire still overwhelming.

He could not trust himself around her. Could not trust himself to ignore his desires and respect her wishes.

He entered the corridor and leaned beside the doorframe after the door slid shut. The hallway was silent save for the gentle, familiar, barely perceptibly hum present throughout most of the Facility. Arkon called it thewhirring of hidden machinery.

Dracchus didn’t care about machinery, hidden or otherwise. Larkin’s taste lingered on his suction cups, her scent clung to his skin, and his shaft ached. She was driving him dangerously close to casting aside all the ways of their people. He needed to have her, had never wanted anyone or anything more.

But he knew now, more than ever, that he could not make the choice for her, and he could not force her to choose. She needed to come to him of her own free will.

Chapter 15

Larkin wrinkled her nose and looked around the large room. Lockers stood along two of the walls, and various pieces of equipment — most of which she didn’t recognize — were stacked beside a third wall. In the center of the room was a huge pool of clear water; it had to be at least sixty meters from one end to the other, and half that across.

“What is that smell?” she asked.

Dracchus shrugged. The gesture was almost comical given his size. “Chemicals, Arkon says. I am not sure what that means, but he insists that is the source.”

“Chemicals for what? Are they dangerous?” Their smell sure as hell implied they were.

“I do not believe so.” He stared into the pool, one corner of his mouth turned down. “Kraken have entered the water before, and none have come to harm for it.”

“It’s coming from the water?” Larkin stepped to the edge and looked down. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

The bottom of the pool was covered by countless little stones, their differences in color creating intricate, swirling patterns that flowed into each other so naturally it seemed impossible.

“Who made that?” she asked.

“Arkon, over many weeks. I used to think that was time wasted.”

“It’s beautiful. Why would you think it’s a waste of time?”

“Because it did nothing to contribute to the survival of our people,” he replied, shaking his head. “But you are right. It is pleasing. I cannot decide what its value is, only that it is of some value.”

Larkin tilted her head, tracing the patterns with her gaze. “We’d spend days, sometimes weeks, out in the jungle, tracking our prey. It was hard work. Tedious work. And the whole time, I knew in the back of my mind that most of our food came from farms, anyway. But when we got back into the fort with our fresh kills, there’d be music, and dancing, and a feast to celebrate. People were happy because of what we’d done. Even if the farms produced more food, we’d added something more to their lives.

“That’s what this is. It’s about making people feel something, about…entertainment. A full belly is great, don’t get me wrong, but people need more than that sometimes to be happy. Life needs to be lived, and thereisvalue in the small things, the things that might not seem important, like this,” she waved at the stones. “You gain pleasure, just from looking at it.”

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