Page 73 of Heart of the Deep

Larkin’s chest tightened.

We know how much this means to you…

“But with a gestation cycle this short, we could potentially have three babies a year. While we share the same DNA,ourbodies are not made for that. Hell, our minds aren’t, either,” Aymee said.

Dracchus’s expression was one of deep, troubled thought — a creased brow, eyes dark, and a heavy frown. He swung his gaze to Larkin, and his attention dipped to her hands.

Larkin quickly shifted her hands to her sides, wiping her damp palms on her pants.

His brow dropped further. Confusion gleamed amidst the darker emotions on his face.

“If it is what my mate chooses, she has my support,” Jax said.

“As does mine,” Arkon added.

Dracchus grunted, turning his head toward the others. “I will respect your choices.” There was a hint of something left unsaid in his words, and that wasn’t like the kraken Larkin had come to know. He’d faced physical confrontation and pain without blinking, but this situation had him off-balance, and that only worried her more.

“Let’s return to our den,” Jax said, helping Macy from the bed.

Aymee put the vial away as Arkon gathered Jace.

“We’ll talk again soon, Larkin,” Macy said, offering her a smile and a wave.

Aymee joined Macy. “We’ll have a picnic in the Mess.”

Larkin waved back, forcing a smile. “I would love to.”

“What I wouldn’t do to have a picnic outdoors again…” Macy’s voice faded as they left the room, moving down the hallway.

Larkin looked at Dracchus to find him watching her.

“Come, female,” he said, extending a hand. “I have shared you enough today.”

Larkin’s breath shallowed, but the warmth his words instilled within her couldn’t push away her pain.

It would be so easy to love him.

Her hand itched to take hold of his as she walked toward him, but she didn’t give in to the urge. Caving to her desires would only make what was to come more difficult. She’d already given in too much.

The trip back to their den was short, but Larkin was silent throughout, walking in front of Dracchus without looking back a single time. When they arrived, she moved to the center of the room and folded her arms across her chest. She kept her back to him.

Dracchus approached, settling a hand on her shoulder and wrapping a tentacle around her waist to draw her close. They hadn’t been alone since early morning, and he needed to touch her.

Larkin shrugged off his hand and pushed his tentacle away. She stepped beyond his reach, her body rigid, and turned to face him.

He frowned; this was not the Larkin who had awoken to his attentions this morning, not the Larkin who’d been pliant, appreciative, affectionate. Not the woman who’d begged for more of his touch.

She’d been uncharacteristically quiet in the Infirmary, but this was well beyond silence. He’d thought they moved past this days ago, during their time on the beach.

“What is wrong?” he asked, moving closer.

Larkin held up her hands, halting Dracchus. “I don’t want to share a room with you anymore.”

Her words repeated in his mind several times before he understood what she’d said. “I do not find humor in your jest.”

“This isn’t a joke, Dracchus.”

“What has changed since this morning?” he asked. This had to be some sort of human trick like Randall often tried to play. But Dracchus’s chest constricted all the same, and uncomfortable heat spread through him.

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