Page 21 of Heart of the Deep

“No,” Dracchus grunted.

She grasped the bars of his cell to prevent herself from collapsing in relief.

He didn’t do it.

It was a small, bitter victory; the kraken had been beaten badly enough that a human suffering the same punishment would’ve been recovering for weeks, but at least their flesh hadn’t been sliced up.

“Would you like some water?” She slid her bag off her shoulder and set it down beside the lantern.

“For them first.” Dracchus flicked his gaze toward the kraken behind her.

She splashed each of them twice, starting with the gray kraken. The water was tinted red with their blood as it streamed down their skin. The brown kraken’s angry eyes followed her throughout.

After Larkin was finished, she replaced the bucket, closed the barrel, and crouched beside her pack. She took out her tools and set to work on the lock. Within a minute, it clicked open.

“What are you doing?” Dracchus asked.

“What I can,” she replied, swinging the door open as she stood up. She collected her bag, stuffed her tools inside, and was stepping through the entry when she halted abruptly. “May I approach you?”

He spread his webbed fingers slowly, displaying open palms over the thick shackles around his wrists. “I have little choice in that.”

“I’m giving you the choice.”

He frowned, studying her with quizzical eyes, and finally nodded.

She stepped closer, moving her gaze from his tentacles, which were tightly bound in netting, to the defined muscles of his abdomen. Sculpted muscle filled out his chest and arms. He was bigger than any man she’d ever seen.

Kneeling beside him, she set her pack down and removed a jar of salve. “I’m going to put this on your wrists and around your neck. It might sting.”

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally, dipping briefly to the jar. He didn’t voice whatever suspicion he harbored; instead, he tilted his head back as far as the collar around his neck allowed, offering her his throat. In a primal sense, it was a submissive gesture, but she knew that understanding didn’t apply now. This wasn’t his submission, it was a modicum of trust.

She stared at his neck for a moment; it had to be as thick as her thigh.

Unscrewing the lid, she dipped her fingers into the jar, gathered a glob of salve, and dabbed it along the raw flesh beneath his collar. The cords of his neck twitched, but he made no sound.

“Tilt your head down,” she said.

When he complied, she leaned closer, slipping an arm behind his head. She frowned at how tightly the collar fit; no wonder he could barely move his head.

Larkin paused when his warm breath disturbed the loose hair hanging before her chest, tickling the skin left exposed by her shirt.

Dracchus inhaled, slow and deep.

Was he…smellingher?

To her shock, gooseflesh broke out over her skin and her nipples hardened.

He made a strange, low sound in his chest, somewhere between a hum and a grunt.

She drew back quickly and scooped more salve from the jar, shifting to either side to apply it to his wrists. When she was done, she removed a wax paper bundle from her bag and unfolded it. The aroma of cooked fish rose above the room’s other scents.

“I know it’s not much,” she said, breaking off a piece and holding it to Dracchus’s lips, “but it’s more than you’ve had in the last couple of days.”

“I cannot.”

“Why? It’s not poisoned. I’ll take a bite if you need me to.”

“I will not eat if they do not,” he said, looking at the other kraken, “and I do not think they will accept your food.”

---