Текст книги "The saltwater course"

Автор книги: Avian St. Graves

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

11

Cindi

Did he just… “Where the fuck did you go?” I yell at the pool, mouth dry.

Nothing.

Nada.

Silence.

Fucking prick.

I grab the knife off the ground and chuck it at the wall. It clatters off the rock with a high-pitched ring. I want to hit something. Scream. Throw things. Cry until my voice is completely hoarse. Rage. Burn this world to the fucking ground.

So, I do it.

I scream like shards of glass are tearing through my veins. I turn the cave upside down, smashing rocks, splintering wood, ripping moss away from stone. It’s not nearly satisfying enough.

I’m dimly aware of the pain in my hand and the tears rushing down my cheeks as I run around the cavern to search for an exit. I barely wince when my foot slices open on the harsh rock floor, hardly swallow when my mouth feels like sandpaper.

Oxygen rushes from my lungs, and I stumble, head swimming. A fresh wave of tears pours down my cheeks.

I’m so sick of being sick.

I have to get out of here. Staying isn’t an option. I was free. I escaped Tommy. I was this close to getting the hell out of here.

How did I end up right back where I started, but with a… Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this. But with a goddamn, living, breathing, eight-armed fucking kraken.

A kraken who does things to my body I can’t explain—relaxes it, lulls it into a faux sense of comfort.

A kraken whose suckers I can still feel around my nipples.

A kraken who wants to own me. Keep me as a pretty pet. Lock me in a cage, throw away the key, try placating me with pretty words or flowers to get me back in line.

Tommy told me I would want for nothing, that he’d take care of me because he loved me more than the moon and the stars. There would be nothing that would keep us apart. Little did I know, it was because he chained me up, then threw away the key.

Maybe I should be scared shitless about the mythical sea monster aspect of my captor. Sure, his size and the knowledge he could kill me with a single swipe is frightening, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. Size and shape and looks mean fucking nothing.

Tommy was beautiful. He had the most dazzling smile I’d ever seen, like he just walked off the cover of Vogue.

Look where that got me.

On the other hand, Dad had friends who towered over me, could pick up a tire with a single finger, push trucks without breaking a sweat; one guy could even lift his Harley as a party trick. Despite their intimidating size, the leather jackets, and fuck you attitude, they were gentle giants, patched up teddy bears.

I don’t need to go out to sea to find a monster; they exist on land. They hide under human skin and call themselves men.

I don’t want to be around to discover whether the textbook monster is just as evil.

The cavern alone is as big as the small, two-bedroom cabin I was stolen from, lit by the glowing matter slimy to the touch, the last vestiges of moonlight pouring in through the hole above the pool.

I skitter to a stop at a deep alcove to the side of the cave, saying a silent prayer I’ll find an exit. Instead, beds of moss stare back at me, rich greens illuminated by the threads of blue and purple bioluminescent matter climbing up the walls.

Everywhere smells like him but better, and it’s sending me into more of a tailspin. It makes no sense as to why I’m having this kind of reaction to someone—something’s—smell.

My eyes dart to the crooked archway on the opposite side of the cavern. I half limp to the opening, spreading my blood over stone from the cuts on my feet. If he doesn’t decide to eat me, maybe I’ll die from infection instead.

Or dehydration.

The entrance could be a gateway into hell, a black hole where things go to perish. The light from the main cave doesn’t reach more than a few steps into the tunnel. I swing my blurry stare to the undisturbed pool, swaying from the exhaustion that sank its teeth into me and is gnawing on me like a dog with a fresh kill.

The monster could return at any second. If I want to get out of here, I need to do it now.

I take a step forward, muttering a string of profanities.

He left.

That creature actually left.

Without me. Without any response or weak attempt at assurance that he won’t leave me here and check up on me once a day to drop off food and take his pound of flesh. I can’t fathom why else he’d want me here—me, of all people.

Maybe he’s got other women trapped around here.

I don’t believe his promise of protection for one second. Maybe he doesn’t plan on sharing his things, but I’ve been a fool once, and it’s not happening again. Being Tommy’s fiancée afforded me certain protections too—from everyone but him.

Tommy was exceptional at keeping other men away because he instilled the fear of God into me that it would somehow be my fault if someone’s gaze lingered too long. The one time someone played with his toy, I heard the echo of a gunshot, followed by total silence.

My mind races as I squint against the darkness. There’s no telling where the tunnel leads. I could get lost in there or come across something other.

I rub the muscles in my sore arm and glance back at the hole above the pool. There has to be another exit besides that.

Getting to it is a feat I’m not sure even a seasoned rock climber can achieve. The rock wall is curved with hardly any prominent grooves that I can make out. Jagged stones await at the bottom of the hole, promising injury if there’s one slip—and there will be a slipup with the state of my arm and shitty vestibular system.

Then, there’s the way we came in.

I’m a decent swimmer, but there’s no way I’ll be able to get out through the underwater channel without drowning.

I’m out of options. The tunnel is my only choice. It leads either to an unknown place or something far worse than the devil I know.

I swipe the tears from my face and grit my teeth against the agony throughout my body as I put one tentative foot in front of the other, using the damp cave walls as a guide. Minutes tick by, or maybe they’re a matter of seconds, possibly hours.

I can’t tell.

“Shit,” I hiss, losing my footing and crashing my knee into something hard and jagged. Pain slices up my leg. I rear back and almost lose my balance.

My hands fly out in front of me to land on a solid surface. Harsh breaths echo through the tunnel. Every sound I make is like an alarm that will alert the monster to my attempted escape. I squeeze my eyes shut. Rotting away isn’t how I wanted to go.

Pull yourself fucking together, I scold myself, drawing whatever is left of my sanity to gain some semblance of control over my emotions.

I quickly feel the walls around me to gain a sense of direction.

No.

It can’t be.

My heart hammers in my chest as I keep turning in my spot, hands out to orient myself. It’s the perfect 360 spin.

It’s a dead end.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Tears of frustration burn down my cheeks. Hopelessness, raw and guttural, pounds down on me.

Why is this happening to me? Why me? What could I have possibly done in my past life to deserve all this?

My knees buckle, and I narrowly stop myself from falling. I’m so tired, exhausted from constantly running, fearing for my life. There’s never going to be an expiration date to this feeling—it makes me question the point of fighting.

Dad said he’ll always be happy as long as I’m doing what makes me happy. He’s not even here, and I can feel his disappointment. Happiness isn’t on the table for me. The only thing I can offer him is my survival, however fleeting that might be.

I have to go back to the cavern. Climbing out of the hole is my only option.

I swallow, attempting to bring moisture to my dry mouth. When was the last time I drank something? Ate? The lack of food and water wouldn’t be helping my condition either.

My head swims as I trudge forward, the vestiges of my adrenaline chipping away until I’m struggling to stay upright. Today has consisted of trauma after trauma. Exhaustion has me by my throat.

I’m panting by the time I stumble into the cave, coated in a layer of cold sweat, grime, and blue liquid I can only assume is the evidence of my attempted attack on the kraken. I pause, narrowing my eyes against the sudden light and waning energy. At the edges of my blurry vision, I spot something circular and brown.

My brows furrow as I close the distance, half crawling, half walking. A coconut. It sits atop a pile of shells, all husks of different maturity that have been broken, or…gnawed on?

My stomach grumbles. I snatch the fruit at the top, and my heart sinks. It’s empty. Dammit.

Movement sounds behind me. I whip around, holding the object up in defense. That’s not the krak-

My eyes widen. I clamor back from the thing that just stepped out of the pool. What the ever-loving fuck is that? I saw it briefly back at my cabin, but up close…

The shark-dog tips its head to the side, watching me with keen curiosity. Beneath the low light, I can make out more than his silhouette this time. It’s shaped like a dog, but with fins and a wider, rounder, more stretched out snout like a shark—although with a black nose at the very end like a canine.

It has the same coloring as one of the common octopus breeds in the area: cherry brown, with yellow along his snout, around his eyes, and like socks on his feet.

I find myself leaning closer, noticing the white dots on his stomach and below the fins on the backs of his legs. Are those…suckers?

A shiver rolls down my spine when I catch sight of its razor-sharp teeth. Between its maw is a greenish thing shaped like a ball.

My muscles lock when it steps forward. What are the chances I can outrun that thing?

Nil. Absolutely zero.

Looking it in the eye is a bad idea, but I can’t stop staring, brows stitching together. The creature is really quite fascinating. What did the kraken call him? Chad?

It isn’t quite staring back at me. I follow its line of sight to the coconut in my hand, and I glance at the teeth marks on the pile of husks beside me.

Oh shit. I’m playing with its toys.

My hand trembles, raising the coconut as an offering—no, bad idea. Don’t invite it closer.

Throat bobbing, I slowly—so very slowly—lower it to the ground and roll the fruit its way, inching from the creature’s pile.

The green ball—another coconut—thuds onto the floor from his mouth. He looks up at me, and I hold my breath. Then, his piercing stare drops to the coconut I rolled his way. Up at me. Back to the fruit. Me. Coconut. Me. Back to the coconut. Me again.

It steps toward me, and I suppress every one of my instincts to jump back with a scream. It presses its snout to the coconut, making the cute aggressive sniffing sound like dogs do. Then, in a move that has me questioning everything I know about biology and animal behavior, its shark tail starts swishing side to side.

The good kind of tail-wagging.

I blow out a breath, feeling like I’ve passed a test I didn’t know I was taking. Before I can question my next move, it spins around and trots back toward the pool, leaping into the water in an unceremonious cannonball.

I blink.

What just happened? I’m hallucinating, surely. My attention drops to the coconut it left behind, the only proof I have that my interaction with a shark-dog took place.

I glance up at the hole above the pool and check the alcove with the bed of moss to make sure I’m the only one around. Whatever. It’s gone.

I blow out a breath.

It’s now or never.

OceanofPDF.com

12

Ordus

My bag flails against the current, the fish inside it no doubt trying to make their escape. I only caught four for Cindi, which is not enough variety to be worthy of someone as special as my mate.

The muscle in my jaw feathers. I should have searched for crab as well. Many humans enjoy eating it, and I could have fed her myself to avoid her getting hurt by its hard shell. It will take too long for me to swim far enough from my territory to hunt.

Every second away from her feels like my soul is ripping apart—even if it hurts just as much to be around her.

I was a coward for departing without a word. I can only imagine what she thinks of me for leaving her in our barren den. I couldn’t… It was too painful to listen to her rejection. I needed to clear my mind, to think about how to earn her forgiveness and accept me as her mate.

When she sees I have returned from my hunt with plenty of food, maybe she’ll realize I am a capable provider. I do not mean her any harm. I have already shown her my strength by killing five males for her. I… How does one woo their mate?

How do I get her to look beyond my appearance?

I wish Yannig were here so I could ask him what to do. He was my sole source of guidance when I was young. He helped me navigate the other kraken to make myself less…less. My sister may not have concerned herself with such trivial matters, busy studying and ruling our people, but she would know what to do as well. Her mate wouldn’t fear her, even though she’s the deadliest kraken to ever exist.

The thoughts and questions keep piling up, stealing my focus. The water shifts, and I sense another creature’s presence too late.

“Your Majesty.”

Anger surges through me. Someone dares to keep me from my mate, dares to be so close to my island. My lips peel back with a snarl. A low growl builds in my chest, though not loud enough to be heard above the storm.

A dead weight sinks in my stomach when I spot the kraken emerging from the shadows of a stone structure.

“Counselor Lazell.” Lightning thunders in my veins. He is a snake amongst kraken.

His eyes dart to my dark hair floating around me. His lips twist in distaste.

My mother killed his brother when he campaigned for my execution a few months after I was born, then later attempted to carry it out himself. Since then, Lazell has been a thorned pest, leading the Council in his vision, keeping hatred toward me alive.

It’s a pity my mother didn’t end his entire family line.

I would have long ago if it wouldn’t have resulted in my certain death.

Our interactions are few and far between. The Council has been operating on its own for several years, running the kingdom without my interference. I wanted nothing to do with it, and my subjects were all too happy to take the proverbial crown from me. Their contempt toward me worsened after Yannig died and I refused to marry the first kraken female they sacrificed to me.

Now, for the most part, they leave me alone, acting like I don’t exist, only bothering me every so often to check if I’m any closer to shackling a female to me.

“I see you are still alive,” Lazell observes in relief and disgust. The lines on his face deepen when they land on the two fresh wounds left by my mate.

He tears his stare away at my growl. I don’t like him looking at Cindi’s gifts to me.

The kraken has aged centuries since I last saw him eight moons ago. His cheeks are sunken, and there’s the barest green tinge to his skin—a telltale sign the Waste has reached his body. I have yet to see a kraken without the coloring in recent years.

Lazell’s long, thin tentacles slither over rock and sand before jettisoning close to the surface to mimic the movement of my limbs. It’s the same habit Yannig had.

He uses the webbing between his arm and ribs to keep stationary against the strong currents. The tapered edges of his four fingers ripple. It’s the greatest offense that his coloring is similar to my brother’s—brown and white stripes like a lionfish.

Grief hits me every time I have the misfortune of seeing Lazell, only to be quickly staunched by seething hatred.

Every word out of his mouth is a concealed threat.

I may be the king, but he is the one who holds the power over our people. If he chooses to follow in his brother’s footsteps by rallying krakens to kill me, it will happen. If he knew I was hiding a human in my den, the Council would be demanding Cindi’s execution. Our kind’s continued anonymity is one of the most sacred values we hold.

The only reason I’m not dead is because I am their only hope. Lazell and every other kraken who loathes me are losing sleep over having no choice but to place their faith in an abomination.

“It has been many months since you’ve joined our meetings.”

“It has.” Why would I want to be in the presence of those who would sooner poison me than willingly speak to me? My attendance only serves as an opportunity for the Council to berate and pressure me into marrying a kraken.

He raises a brow. “I assume your search for a bride has not been successful, and the people will continue to starve.” My inner beast rears its head at his condescending tone.

I clamp my mouth shut to stop from bragging about finding my mate, from proving to them that I was right. The Goddess deemed me worthy of having a fated mate.

He would insist on seeing her, and then he’d try to have her killed.

Once our bonding settles the blight over my territory, I will parade my beautiful female for all the vile krakens to see so they know I saved us with the help of my human bride. My people will seethe, recoil from disgust, but it will bring me no greater joy than to know every time they hunt, it is because a human and their monster king permitted it.

Until then, Krokant is all that remains, an hourglass showing how much time remains before all is lost. It has been two years since I last visited. I can only assume it has halved in size. It’s anyone’s guess as to how much time we have left before the Curse wins.

And they come for me.

“My search for my mate remains,” I lie, balling my hands into fists to stop from tearing him apart.

He forgets my human attributes have turned me into a far better hunter and killer than any of them. Their webbing is a weakness—one cut, and they could bleed out. My claws are a weapon in themselves. Thumbs are an advantage in every form. I have yet to find a purpose for my hair. I assume there is one, but thus far, I have not been able to find a reason.

“Perhaps it is time to look at marrying⁠—”

“No,” I snarl.

I would sooner sacrifice my soul to the Goddess than even think of bonding with anyone other than Cindi. Whatever kraken bride the Council sends will either be one who is rejected and hated by society, or a strong female who will kill me the moment she has my cub in her stomach.

His eyes darken. He’s probably wishing his brother never failed at killing me. “Time is running⁠—”

My tentacle shoots out and clamps around Lazell’s throat. Bubbles explode around us, and a streak of lightning flashes above the surface to illuminate his panicked face. “I do not appreciate repeating myself, Counselor.” My voice is low.

His own pathetically weak limbs fly out to push back against my tightening grip. My limb spans wider than his neck, forcing him to stare up at me. I chuckle as his eyes bulge as he uselessly grabs at my arm with his tapered fingers.

“If I say no, that means no. If I have to question your ability to listen again, I will remove your ears because, clearly, you have no use for them. Do you understand?”

His mouth gapes. Air bubbles replace words.

“Nod if you understand.”

Lazell frantically bobs his head, a barely noticeable movement against my tentacle.

I release him, throwing him aside. “The Council will be informed once I have taken a bride,” is all I say before going back toward my den.

Rage simmers under my skin. I swim harder to dispel the energy and the need to tear another kraken apart—“limb from limb,” as Cindi said.

Letting my vapid Council look at—or even speak to—my mate wasn’t a thought I delved into with much detail. It filled me with too much rage.

It has been at least a moon since I came across another kraken. I once went half a year without interacting with anyone other than Vasz. Most barely spare me anything more than a sideways glance.

I’m obviously a fool. My wishful thinking had me believing my mate would want me back and I could have Cindi to myself, away from every other kraken.

The runes at the cave entrance glow silver beneath my touch. The stone groans as it slides against rock, a low, grating sound that can only be heard if nearby.

A confusing mixture of excitement, dread, hope, and fear winds my hearts into a tight knot. She cannot hate me forever, right? At some point, she will soften to my efforts because…because fate deemed it so.

Fate. Fate. Fate.

It’s never because of me.

The gills along my neck bristle, and I steel myself to weather the disgust Cindi doles my way.

I’m torn between racing through the tunnels or leaning into my trepidation by prolonging the inevitable pain. I want to see my mate, make sure she’s okay, but I…I don’t want her to see me. I never thought I could feel such joy from simply touching another, yet such pain at the same time.

The glowing algae illuminates the path into the den before I can decide what I want to do. My senses tip closer to the edge. My nose twitches, suckers pulsing as I taste the saltwater.

Blood.

I speed up, splitting the surface, claws out, chest puffed, muscles coiled, ready to defend my mate to the very end.

The stench of her fear, anxiety, and the metallic scent of her blood permeates the air. My stare swings around the den to locate the intruder, but there are no new scents. A gasp pulls my attention toward the large stone near the side of the cavern.

Cindi’s frightened eyes burn into mine, and my muscles tense to strike…Vasz.

“What…” I frown, lowering my limbs to the floor. The creature, blissfully ignorant to my and Cindi’s panic, continues gnawing on a coconut as my mate presses herself flush against the rock, tucking her limbs close to her body beneath her dress to create more distance from Vasz as he wags his tail, happily playing with a husk.

“Tell me if he bit you,” I demand.

She shakes her head at the same time Vasz huffs, “I wish.”

Try as I might, I can’t figure out why she’s sitting beside his coconut pile or how a piece of driftwood made it from Vasz’s quarters to my mate’s lap.

My nostrils flare. I cannot see where the blood is coming from. She doesn’t look like she’s badly wounded, but even the slightest scratch is unacceptable.

“Come here, mate,” I say. A tentacle sneaks along the ground toward her.

“Fuck off,” she hisses, batting me away with the driftwood.

Vasz rises to his haunches to snap at my limb in warning. “Vasz,” I growl.

“Fuck off.”

My brows hike up to my hairline when he places himself between me and Cindi—or his pile of coconuts.

Disregarding him, I meet Cindi’s wide stare. There are deep bags beneath her eyes, and her hair stands up at odd ends, tangled and nest-like. “You’re hurt.” And you need rest.

“You’re right. I am,” Vasz responds instead. He holds his paw out, dipping his head in earnest. “Yes, you may treat my wound.”

“Fuck off, Vasz.” I test the words.

They have a nice ring to them.

He whips a wounded glare my way, snapping at me when I push him aside to get to Cindi.

She smacks my arm with the wood. “Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t touch her,” Vasz echoes.

“I will throw out all of your coconuts,” I threaten.

He gasps. “You wouldn’t dare betray our friendship like this.”

I lower myself to look him in the eye. “Try me.”

“You can talk to it?” Cindi’s bewildered attention flicks between me and the walking, talking irritant. “Can it…understand me?”

Vasz snorts in answer, and her jaw drops. “That’s incredible.”

I swear on Yannig’s grave that Vasz preens, batting his eyes and rumbling what I could only describe as a giggle before he straightens. “I am,” he agrees, a cocky tilt to his voice. “Isn’t that right, Ordus?”

Goddess, give me strength.

“Leave. Now.” He snarls when I pick him up by his stomach and deposit him next to the pool. I almost lose part of a limb to his teeth. “Go.”

His harrumph is loud enough for even Cindi’s human ears to hear. His own points to the ground as he skulks toward the water. “If you asked, you’d know the human tried to climb out of the tunnel as I was returning with my gift, so I bit her. Just a little nip⁠—”

“You—” He jumps into the water and swims away before I can catch him. “Did Vaszeline hurt you?” I ask, getting as close to Cindi as I can before she hits me with her little stick.

My stomach sinks as my mate gawks at me like I sprouted suckers on my face. A stone lodges in my throat as I await her rejection.

“Did you just call that thing Vaseline?”

Jealousy spears through me. Why is my Cindi asking about the creature and not me? “Vaszeline, yes.” I force the words out even though I don’t want to be discussing any males with my mate—even if that male is part dog. “But it’s too difficult to say when angry, so I call him Vasz,” I continue in the hopes civility will encourage her to speak more.

I like the way she sounds when her words aren’t barbed and made to cut.

“Like…” She blinks at me, then the water Vasz escaped through. “The petroleum jelly?”

It’s my turn to gape at her. “No,” I say carefully, so as not to offend her by sounding like I am questioning her intelligence. “Like Vaszeline.”

It isn’t the name I would have chosen for him; rather, it’s one he chose for himself. When I found him starved, battered, and injured, attempting to hide beneath a coconut, he was curled up around a plastic jar with the name Vaszeline on it, a name the Witch must have given him.

I believe he has the bottle in his cave somewhere, probably beneath a mountain of husks and random objects he’s chosen to bring back.

My tentacle moves against the floor, tasting my mate’s blood on the stone. If I discover he’s harmed Cindi, I will revoke his access to the underground system of the island.

I reach my hand out for her.

“What are you—get away from me.” She stumbles back, that familiar shuttered expression crossing her eyes, souring her scent the same way it does each time she looks like this.

Her dress falls away from her legs to reveal the small cut on her shin and the blood coating her feet.

Guilt burns up my throat. I should have brought her shoes so she can move without worry. My siblings would never have made such a foolish mistake.

“You’re bleeding because I wasn’t here to keep you safe.” I let you down.

Her brows stitch together in a flicker of confusion she quickly wipes away. “You give yourself too much credit. Rocks aren’t the danger here.” Cindi gives me a pointed look, as if I might be the one to hurt her. I’ll prove her wrong. “I’m fine.” It’s a sentiment she poorly confirms by wincing, stumbling when she attempts to stand.

I point two clawed fingers at my face. “Do you know what these are?”

She blinks in shock, glancing around the cave like she’s uncertain I spoke. “Uh…are you talking about your eyes?” Cindi’s words are partially slurred.

“Yes. Eyes. And they are seeing you are not fine.” I motion toward her injuries. Sighing, I raise back up to my full height, watching the way she stiffens as I do. It infuriates me that she thinks I would hurt her.

“It’s a little cut. I’ll live—where are you going? You can’t leave me here,” she calls when I turn, moving toward the water.

First, she wants me to get away from her. Now, she doesn’t want to leave. Humans are very confusing.

I try not to let the false hope get to me that she might actually want me to stay. I have done nothing to garner her change in feelings toward me since coming back, and I doubt she has seen sense in the past couple of minutes since my return.

The muscles in my tentacles stretch, pushing me higher off the ground to reach the nook in the rock wall where I keep my meager supplies. Cindi’s wild stare never leaves mine, but there’s something else there too. It lightens her scent and brings some familiarity back to her face, like when I was watching her from afar.

I bite back my irritation at the spike in her fear. I am just putting the chest on the ground? Why does she perceive that as a threat?

I force myself to release it, fighting my inner beast’s need to hold her in my arms and reassure her she will never know a moment of pain.

But even if I think it, I know it will not be true.

Cindi will suffer as long as I live because the Goddess has cursed her to be my mate. She will spend the rest of her days resenting my mere existence, lips curled into a perpetual sneer from being in my company.

Like she is now.

Violent, hateful, afraid. The scent from her emotions is scattered through the air, thick enough to choke on.

My jaw aches from clenching hard. Emotions do not matter. I must tend to my mate’s injuries. That is the priority. Humans do not have the magical healing powers krakens do, and I intend to keep my mate alive at all costs.

The hinges of the chest creak as it opens to reveal the few pieces of kelp, clean cloth, and a half-empty tub of healing paste I made. Regret churns in my stomach over putting off its restock for months. I only ever use it when Vasz picks a fight with something a quarter of his size then cries at the smallest bit of pain. The only thing that would make him stop talking about it is if I treat his nonexistent injury.

Now I have a mate with real wounds, and she’s acting like it’s barely more than a scratch.

They will both age me. I’ll be a fifty-year-old kraken looking a hundred in no time.

I move to grab Cindi with my tentacle, and the ensuing whimper chills me to my very soul, a sound that echoes and vibrates like the strings of a guitar. Every instinct tells me to attack whatever it is causing her distress, even though I know it’s all my fault.

I’m the problem.

Always the problem.

“Stop being stubborn.” My words come out sharper than I intended them. How is one meant to react at the realization that the hope I’ve been clinging to since I was a cub is a lie?

“You’re the one who insists on touching me—” I disregard her protests and hold her in my limbs. My other tentacles wet the cloth in the pool. “No!”

As blissful as it is to have my Goddess-sent mate, it’s hard to find true joy in it when Cindi is acting like I’m going to suffocate her. I am just trying to help.

I take care not to sneak my arm beneath her dress. I need to be completely focused to tend to Cindi. It’s what she deserves. I can’t mess it up. Yet, my cock is hardening from having her in my arms, recalling the smell of her lust, the red blossoming on her skin.