Page 96 of Heart of the Deep

Randall was silent as he collected the final fish from Ikaros and bagged it. Dracchus made another pass overhead, looking from side to side as though watching for danger.

“We’re going to have to talk to him sooner or later,” Randall finally said. “It’s the only way we can get him to stop. Fuck, he’s doing this forus. It’s got to be us to end it, right?”

Larkin nodded. “I’m worried about him, especially with Neo and the others prowling around out here somewhere. We can’t stay down here forever, anyway. There has to be something, some way, to bring humans and the kraken together.”

“You’re right. And he,” Randall gestured toward Dracchus, “is the guy you have to convince. If you can get him to agree, he stands the best chance of getting the others to consider it.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“You should do your dancing first,” Randall said with a smirk. His eyes followed movement behind her, and his smirk broadened into a grin.

Larkin turned. Dracchus was there, his amber eyes aglow in the sunlight, his smile somehow fierce and gentle at once. He signed; Larkin caughtgood, but the rest was too fast.

“You did good,” Randall translated with a laugh, “but I just wasted air.”

“Sounds about right,” Larkin replied.

Randall made a series of gestures to Dracchus, and the two went back and forth a few times before Randall tied off the net full of fish, strapped his harpoon gun to his wrist, and gathered the spare harpoons.

“What was all that?” Larkin asked.

“Told him I’m going to head back so you two can have a private lesson onsign language.” He offered an exaggerated wink.

“Guess you’d better practice your shooting while we’re at it, huh?”

“Ouch.” Randall called Ikaros to his side with another gesture, and swam backward for a short distance, smiling at her. “I missed you, sis!”

“See you later.” Larkin watched Randall swim away. “Sam, cut off all outbound communication.” She slowly exhaled and turned her attention back to Dracchus.

He stared at her with slight confusion — and a touch of anticipation — on his face. What had Randall actually told him?

More importantly, what the hell was she about to attempt?

“Damnit,” she muttered, setting the harpoon gun down.

Dracchus didn’t need to sign his question; it was communicated perfectly through his expression.

What are you doing?

Larkin held his gaze and began moving; a soft swaying of her hips, twisting them side to side. The suit would leave little to his imagination.

She’d never felt particularly feminine. She’d grown up mostly around men, in the wilds, wearing the same clothes and doing the same work. Yet here she was trying to tempt her mate with a sensual display, feeling utterly ridiculous.

“Damnit, Randall, you better be right.”

The confusion on Dracchus’s face faded as he trailed his gaze down her body, and a new gleam joined the sunlight reflected in his eyes.

Encouraged, Larkin stepped closer to him, rocking her hips, and settled a hand upon his chest. His hearts thumped against her palm, muted by the suit, and she marveled at his color in the soft rays of light from above.

She walked around him slowly, trailing her hand over his shoulder until she reached his back. He turned his head to watch her over his shoulder as Larkin skimmed her fingers down his spine. He shuddered, arching his back and tilting his face upward. She took satisfaction in the reaction she’d elicited from him.

Dracchus flashed maroon as he spun to face her. He caught her arm and slowly raised her hand, pressing her palm to his face. She knew he was thinking the same thing as her —I wish our skin was touching.

Dracchus rose off the bottom, sliding his hand along her arm as he swam around her. His tentacles brushed over her legs, her hips, her backside and abdomen; he circled leisurely, and she could almost feel him looking through the suit to see the body beneath. His eyes were amber flames each time their gazes met. He rounded her again, and again, and her heart sped, her breath quickened, her anticipation built.

“Elevated heartrate detected,” Sam said. “Do you—”

“Shut up, Sam,” Larkin growled.

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