Page 79 of Heart of the Deep

Dracchus trailed his hand down her back and kissed the top of her head. “I am yours. Forever.”

Chapter 19

Larkin smiled and offered Sarina a slice of winefruit. The girl took it daintily between the claws of her forefinger and thumb and shoved the entire piece in her mouth.

Juice dribbled down her chin as she grinned at Larkin. “Another!”

“Sarina, what do you say?” Macy called from the kitchen.

Sarina lifted herself up on her tentacles, craning her neck to look at her mother through the window between the mess hall and the kitchen. Then she turned back to Larkin with big eyes. “Please?”

“For being polite, I will give you two,” Larkin said. She offered two slices, which promptly disappeared into the little girl’s mouth.

Sarina hurried to Jax and raised her arms expectantly.

He frowned down at her. “Did you forget to say something else to Larkin?”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she raised her arms higher.

“Sarina,” he said in a warning tone.

She blew out of her siphons and looked at Larkin, though there was no anger. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Larkin replied, bringing up a hand to hide her grin. Sarina was just like most human children — formalities were a low priority when there were so many exciting things to do next.

“Daddy, I want up!” she begged.

Jax lowered his torso and took her into his arms.

“Tamed by not one, but two females,” Arkon said as Jace crawled up his back and wrapped his tentacles around the blue kraken’s face.

“I heard that!” Aymee called from the kitchen. It was followed by laughter from both her and Macy.

Arkon opened his mouth to reply, but Jace stuffed the tip of a tentacle inside, silencing his father.

“I like your youngling more each day, Arkon,” Jax said with a smile, seeming to ignore Sarina’s little fingers prodding his cheek.

Larkin chuckled as she peeled another winefruit; the violet-red insides divided naturally into wedges, which she added to the nearby bowl. She’d managed, somehow, not to drip any of the dark juice onto the blanket beneath her. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sit, but she’d agreed with Aymee and Macy — a picnic didn’t feel right if you weren’t sitting on blankets. The human women all would’ve preferred the blankets spread on a sunny beach, or in an open field, but the mess hall was good enough.

It was more about the company than the location, anyway.

It’d been a week since Larkin agreed to become Dracchus’s mate, and she and the big kraken had grown closer every day. She was happy, happier than she’d been in years. She had a mate who cared for her, had her brother, and hadrealfriends. She’d found it impossible not to like Macy, Aymee, and their kraken families once she’d come to know them. The only shadow in her heart was the thought of her father.

Had he survived?

She’d gone through the pain of uncertainty concerning Randall for the last year, but the experience didn’t make it any easier to bear now. She had to believe he was alive, and she knew, if he was, he’d be hunting. Not just for Larkin and Randall, but for the kraken who’d taken his children.

“Do you need help?” Melaina asked, squatting down next to Larkin with her tentacles curled around her.

“Sure,” Larkin said, handing Melaina a winefruit.

The young kraken dragged a claw over the skin, slicing it open cleanly, and peeled the outer layer like she’d been doing it all her life.

“In the bowl, Melaina, not your mouth,” Rhea said as she lowered herself beside her daughter. She placed another bowl next to the winefruit. It was full of chopped naba stalks, all peeled to reveal their sweet, white, spongey interiors.

Only Dracchus and Randall were missing, having joined a hunting party. As much as Larkin would’ve loved to accompany them, she’d already promised to come to the picnic. She didn’t regret it; she was enjoying herself with people she was beginning to see as family.

Larkin glanced between Rhea and Melaina — her sister and niece-by-joining. It was still strange to think of them that way, but it felt good. They’d brought about a change in Randall. He laughed easier, and his smiles were more genuine. He’d always been good at putting on a friendly face, but after their mother had died, he’d forced it more often than not.

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