Page 93 of Heart of the Deep

He smiled. Whatever she’d gone through, Larkin’s spirit was far from broken. “I know, female.”

Dracchus lifted his gaze from his mate, and only then realized that the other kraken were looking at him expectantly, some with open curiosity on their faces. Though they’d all known of the presence of humans, relatively few had likely seen more than a glimpse of one. Fewer still were likely to have seen any such interaction between human and kraken.

“This is nothing to fear,” Dracchus said as he drew Larkin into his arms. “This will not destroy our kind. It will not destroy who we are. We can only be stronger for it.” He looked over his shoulder — Aymee and Arkon, Jax and Macy, Randall and Rhea; all were nearby with their younglings, standing together unafraid, unashamed.

“This is the way forward,” he continued, facing the crowd again. “For myself. For my family. The conflict we have known is not the fault of these or any other humans. It has been carried in our hearts for generations, and they have made us face it. Befriend them or do not. Appreciate them or do not. But they do not deserve hatred. They are our people, too.”

“Everything has changed,” someone said in the crowd. “We cannot go back to the lives we knew, not after this.”

“But change can be good,” Ceres said gently.

“For good or ill, change must be faced head-on.” Dracchus looked into Larkin’s eyes. “Together.”

He returned his gaze to the crowd, searching their faces. Though these events had begun well over a year before, Dracchus realized thatthiswas the turning point.Thiswas the moment when the kraken faced all that had happened and all that would happen. There could be no more denial.

“Our kind have long preferred solitude,” he said, “but we have always drawn together to survive. Now, we must come together to adapt. We must come together to ensure this change is one that benefits our kind. We must create a future worth having, for the younglings yet to come.”

Chapter 22

Larkin tracked the gulper ahead as the fish drifted in and out of the seaweed. Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She smirked to herself. Ikaros, anticipating the coming kill, was settled beside her, ready to dart forward.

A few weeks ago, she could never have imagined this scene — she lay on her stomach on the rocky seafloor, harpoon gun propped before her, hunting fish with her brother and a trained prixxir. If she’d dreamt of this, she would’ve shaken her head and called herself a fool.

She refocused on the gulper, inhaled, and fired. The harpoon shot through the water in a flurry of bubbles. It impaled the gulper, pinning it to the seafloor.

“Four out of four!” Randall declared through the diving suit’s comm system.

Ikaros chirruped and raced to retrieve the fish.

Randall swam to her side and turned his head toward her, grinning behind the mask. “You’re making me look bad in front of the big guy. Guess some things never change.”

Larkin laughed and lifted her gaze to Dracchus, who was drifting on the current nearby. He nodded, offering her a smile, and raised three fingers.

Three more before we head home.

She was tempted to miss a few shots just to make this last a little longer. This was only the second time he’d taken her out of the Facility. It’d been two weeks since the banishment, and while things had been relatively peaceful, tension lingered in the air. She couldn’t quite place it, but she knew Dracchus felt it too; an instinctual sense that things weren’t done.

Ikaros swam back to her, carrying the skewered fish by the harpoon. She took it and scratched under the prixxir’s chin, handing the catch to Randall, who removed the harpoon and placed the fish in the net with the other six they’d caught. Randall had missed three out of five shots before deciding it was easier to retrieve harpoons that weren’t launched into the thick seaweed. Larkin had been mildly disappointed that he’d forfeited so early.

“Macy cooks gulper in some kind of winefruit sauce, and it’s delicious,” Randall said, handing her the harpoon. “We should see if she’s willing to make some.”

Larkin reloaded the gun. “If it keeps Aymee out of the kitchen, I’ll even beg her.” She looked and Randall and grinned. “She would have made a terrible wife.”

Randall laughed, shaking his head. “Not like you’re any better.”

“At least my cooking is edible. We’d all starve if we were depending on her.”

“She would’ve made a great wife,” Randall said. “Would’ve kept my figure trim.”

Larkin snickered. “I think Rhea is doing a fine job of that.”

She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he blushed as he turned away. “I amnothaving that conversation with my sister.”

“Just making small talk,” she said, settling back into position.

She scanned the vegetation ahead, seeking out the little flashes of orange that meant a gulper was swimming through the stalks. Ikaros lay beside her, tail wiggling in anticipation.

“So, how are things between you and him?” Randall asked.

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