Golden shafts of morning sunlight streamed through the water as Arkon swam away from the Broken Cavern, creating contrasting patches of light and shadow on the seafloor. His gaze drifted over rocks encrusted with sedentary creatures of a hundred different colors and beds of seagrass swaying hypnotically in the current. He tracked the movement of long, sleek, shimmering fish and scuttling, hard-shelled creatures. The sparkling surface overhead gave way to the endless, varied blue of the distant ocean on the fringes of his vision.

It was beauty he longed to share with Aymee.

After watching the logs, they’d explored the Darrow Nautical Outpost, and discovered a few useful chambers — foremost being a kitchen like the one in the Facility and a room filled with thirty-two narrow beds. They’d pushed three of the beds together to create a space large enough to lie in side by side. Aymee had slept in Arkon’s embrace and hadn’t moved away from him once during the night.

He’d slept little; he knew she’d been more troubled by Wright’s final log than she admitted.

Aymee was still sleeping when he’d awoken, though she stirred when he slipped out of bed. She’d muttered a question — more a sound than a word — and grunted her understanding when he explained he was going hunting. Sound sleep had claimed her again within seconds.

She could have come — they had the diving suit he’d brought and had located several more in one of the chambers — but Arkon wanted her to rest. The last few days had been harrowing for Aymee, and even if she hadn’t physically exerted herself, the toll on her emotions was immense. She needed time to adjust, to recover, to find her joy again.

He’d delayed only long enough to gather Captain Wright’s remains as he left, so he could bring them out to sea.

While he took in the beauty of his surroundings — he was certain Aymee could perfectly capture the unique essence of morning light in the ocean through her painting — he kept watch for both predators and prey.

Though Aymee could survive on plants alone if necessary, they both needed meat to remain strong and healthy. As Aymee’s provider and protector, he refused to allow any of her needs to go unmet.

He drifted farther than he’d originally intended, into unfamiliar waters, and felt a small thrill at the prospect. This had been Jax’s experience for years — always pushing beyond the boundaries a little at a time, always seeking the unknown to discover it, break it, master it.

Of course, Jax himself had likely swum these waters long before, and a short hunting trip was hardly pushing any limits, but it was a taste of his friend’s normal experience. Strangely, Arkon had never shared Jax’s thirst for exploration, despite his insatiable curiosity. It had taken Aymee to open him up to new possibilities, to enable him to view the world through different eyes.

Was this what Macy had meant when she spoke about finally feeling alive after being numb for so long?

He realized suddenly that he’d been swimming for some time — long enough to notice a change in the angle of the sunlight. It may have been a quarter of an hour, perhaps twice that, but it was too far from Aymee either way. He didn’t want her alone for long, especially after she woke; the Broken Cavern’s isolating, restrictive ambience would not ease her already strained emotions.

He was about to turn around when a flash of pure blue from up ahead caught his attention. As he moved, the light did, too — it was a reflection.

Arkon pushed on. When the source finally became apparent, he halted and stared in wonder.

A portion of the coastal cliffside had collapsed. The rubble — chunks of rock in all sizes, globs of dark mud, and dead plants from the surface — lay piled at the base of the cliff. The rockslide had torn open the stone to reveal hundreds of halorium shards embedded within. More pieces were mixed into the debris.

The halorium gave off its own glow, most pronounced where it was shadowed, but rays of sunlight still caught the edges of the shards to produce blue-tinged reflections.

Arkon swam closer. He’d seen halorium on the seafloor many times, usually in small clusters, but he’d never found so much all at once. The surrounding water hummed with the halorium’s collective energy. Though it was safe to handle according to both the knowledge passed down through generations of kraken and the human records in the Facility, its power was undeniable, especially in such a concentration.

His skin tingled, and waves of energy slowly worked over his body. This material, these gem-like shards, had driven the creation of Arkon’s people. He imagined the kraken of old working here, sifting through the rubble for tiny glowing bits and prying larger pieces from the cliffside, stowing it all in shielded containers for transport.

The kraken owed everything to halorium. Because of it, they existed. Because of it, their home was secure and largely functional.

And, having listened to the Computer’s accounts of Halorian history, he knew halorium was the main reason for Aymee’s presence, too. Humans were not likely to have colonized the planet were it not for the discovery of halorium.

Arkon tilted his head; the sea was in constant motion, even if that motion was not always apparent. The shafts of sunlight danced with the surface’s movement, and barely perceptible impurities whirled in the current, but something else had floated through his vision.

He focused his gaze on the water between the light, and wonder overcame him.

Tiny particles drifted between the shafts of light, each emitting its own pale blue glow, too faint to perceive in the direct sun. They floated up from the halorium shards by countless thousands, as innumerable as the stars in the night sky, and were swept landward by the current in flowing, twisting streams.

Lost in his curiosity, he followed their path. The particles spread as they moved farther from their source, making them difficult to track, but they eventually led to a stretch of pale beach. Arkon lifted his head above the surface and looked toward the shore.

With the sun shining on the sand, it was impossible to tell whether the particles persisted on land — until a cresting wave cast a shadow beneath itself at the perfect angle. For an instant, points of blue light glowed in the shadow. Then they were swallowed up by the water.

I must bring Aymee here and show her this.

The thought of Aymee reminded Arkon abruptly of his reasons for coming out here. He looked skyward. Based on the position of the sun, he’d been gone at least an hour, and he hadn’t even attempted to make a catch. Heat spread over his skin — disappointment, frustration, and worry gnawed at him. He had to hurry. It wasn’t fair to leave her alone for so long.

His mind raced as he dove under, mentally sorting the easiest prey to obtain without the aid of tools.

* * *

Arkon broke the surface in the sub pen and glanced up. With the sky having mostly cleared, sunlight poured through the hole in the ceiling, overpowering the closest man-made lights, many of which had come on after the power was restored. He’d paused that morning as he left to hunt and stared at the stained, worn walls and ceiling. Somehow, despite the brightness, the pen felt more desolate now than ever before.

Before the power had been restored, the ceiling and walls were always dominated by shadow, even when the sun was shining; it had granted the massive chamber an air of mystery as intriguing as it was ominous. The effect had created a certain beauty, allowing the sunlight and its reflections on the water to highlight some of the precise edges and lines while leaving everything else to the imagination.

It reminded him of what Aymee had said about the mind filling in the details; perhaps Arkon’s mental image was simply more appealing than the truth.

The artificial lights left nothing hidden — even the water was illuminated from within by lights in the walls and floor. The precision of this place’s construction was impressive, but apart from the painting on the wall, it seemed largely uninspired. Years of damage and wear only made it seem dreary and lonely.

He swam to the ladder and climbed up to the platform. Aymee was nowhere to be seen; was she still asleep?

After taking a few minutes to fill a container with seawater and store the single fish he’d caught inside — the fish was large enough to provide them both a single meal, at least — he went up the steps to the second level and entered the short hallway. The door at the end slid open with a groan after he punched in the number sequence.

He moved through the threshold and along the corridor, allowing his eyes to wander, and found himself comparing it to home — Pontus Alpha, as Captain Wright had called it. The interior of this place was cleaner, but the higher ceilings and concrete walls made it feel colder, even though the climate control systems kept the air comfortable. The contours and lines in the Facility were sleeker and smoother, which dulled the edge of heartless precision that seemed to have gone into constructing such locations.

He turned down one of the intersecting corridors and was heading toward the room they’d slept in when the door ahead slid open. Aymee emerged, wearing her diving suit with a mask tucked under her arm. Her long, curly hair was pulled back from her face; he’d never seen her wear it that way before. The suit accentuated her long, graceful limbs and molded itself to her every curve.

Arousal stirred within him, a dull heat in his lower abdomen that spread throughout his loins. His gaze fixed on the V between her legs. The heat intensified, and his shaft pulsed. He forced his eyes back up as she neared.

She smiled at him. Though the bruise on her cheek was already fading, its presence rekindled his anger; he’d seen her come to harm and had been unable to prevent it.

“How was your hunt?” she asked.

“It was not quite as fruitful as I had intended, but we will have some meat for today, at least.”

“Then it was a success.” She kissed his cheek and caught his hand as she walked past. He followed her lead. “Let’s go swimming. I want to try out the suit. I’ve already gone through the tutorial with Sam.”

Arkon’s gaze dipped. The suit cupped her swaying backside, leaving little to his imagination.

He fought a surprisingly strong urge to reach forward, clutch her hips, and draw her back against him.

“Macy never went into detail on everything these suits are capable of,” she said as she led him toward the submarine pen. “I can’t wait to try it out in the open sea.”

Her words reminded Arkon of the beauty he’d witnessed during his hunt. Aymee would have appreciated it immensely, but there’d be future opportunities to take her.

“It is for the best that you learn its functions here, where the dangers are minimal.”

The door to the submarine pen opened and they moved through it. Aymee walked him to the railing and didn’t release his hand as she looked at him, smiling. “I suppose I should be honest and tell you that I’m not a strong swimmer.”

Arkon couldn’t help but smile back at her; the hint of guilt in her expression was endearing. “The suit is meant to help that. And I will be nearby the entire time.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand and released it, peering over the rail. “Since the storm’s let up, I thought now would be good. The water is calm.”

 “Perhaps that will lend itself well to a lesson. Even when the sea appears calm on the surface, there are currents running below, out of sight, and they will carry you away if you are not ready for them.” He gently took her wrist and raised it, indicating the white piece attached to the suit. “This will help you immensely, but you cannot allow yourself to grow complacent because of it.”

“I won’t.”

Arkon nodded. It required a surprising amount of willpower to stop himself from listing all the potential dangers; he was the one who’d said life was meaningless without risk, and there was no controlling the fickleness of chance.

“Come.” He led her down the steps to the lower platform.

“Macy said Sarina is already swimming.”

“She is. Kraken can essentially swim immediately following birth, though it is not the most graceful sight.”

“It’s amazing. Our newborns are helpless. It takes them months to get strong enough to move themselves around. When do kraken learn to walk? It is walking, isn’t it?”

Arkon glanced down at his tentacles. He’d never really thought about it before; walk was one of many words the kraken rarely used, as it had never seemed applicable to them. “Dragging may be more accurate. Because of the way my people typically handle the raising of our young, I have not spent much time with children until recently, so I cannot answer you with any certainty. I know only that it does not come as naturally to us as swimming, and it involves using our muscles in ways we are typically unused to. Our skeletal structure does not extend below our waists, so our stability outside the water is a matter of the musculature in our tentacles.”

They stopped half a body length from the edge of the platform. Aymee slipped her wrist from his grasp, set her mask down, then placed her hands on his sides from behind. Arkon stiffened, eyes widening.

“I never considered that you wouldn’t have bones in your tentacles,” she said thoughtfully. Her fingers slid toward his spine, pressing firmly. Though it wasn’t her flesh meeting his, it was still her touch, and it was enough to reignite the fire within him. She traced his spine first up then back down, past his last vertebrae. “That you stand and move like this on land is an amazing show of strength.”

Against his will, Arkon’s skin shifted toward violet. The same sort of fascination he so often felt was plain on her face and in her voice, but it was her closeness and the familiarity of her touch that caused his body to react so powerfully.

She flattened her hand and ran it along a tentacle. “I’ve seen you turn this color before, and red a few times. What does it mean?”

He released a long, slow breath. “Red is anger or aggression, though the nuanced meaning varies depending on the particular shade.”

“And violet?” She withdrew her hands and bent to collect her mask.

He dropped his gaze. “Embarrassment.”

Aymee’s face fell. “Oh.” She looked away from him, but not before he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I don’t think sometimes, and I let my curiosity get the better of me.”

“No.” Forcing his skin to its normal color, he lifted his head, settled his palms on her hips, and drew her closer. “You’ve no need to apologize. I am unused to such contact, but it is not uncomfortable.”

She pressed a hand against his chest, and he again wished it was her skin on his. “The kraken don’t touch?”

“We share a home, but most of us live alone. There have always been some conflicting instincts within my kind that push us to both exist as a tightknit society and satisfy a need for solitude. Many forms of physical contact can be taken as a challenge amongst the kraken...an invasion of the space we consider private.”

She tilted her head. “Do I challenge you?”

Arkon smiled. “In many ways.”

Aymee chuckled, sliding her hand to his shoulder.

“While Jax was in The Watch, I observed the humans working on the dock every day,” he said, leaning his head down to press his forehead to hers. “I saw them share touches, and the warmth between them, the familiarity...I wondered what that felt like. Part of me longed to know. Macy has taught me much about the expression of friendship through touch in the time since, has shown me how it can strengthen a bond between two people.”

“And when I touch you?”

He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, hands dipping to her backside. “When you touch me, I know I have had only the merest taste of what is possible, and I hunger for more.”

Aymee’s breath quickened, and she curled her fingers to keep from grabbing on and pulling him against her. This…this was a different Arkon. His touch was bold, confident. His words flowed through her, heightening her awareness of him, and her body craved more contact.

What had begun as fascination had grown into something deep and powerful. She’d been drawn to Arkon from the start, intrigued by the contradictory nature of his features — at once human and alien — but her curiosity had quickly extended beyond his appearance.

He’d become her friend. She could talk to him about anything, she related to his passions and doubts, and she trusted him unconditionally.

She also respected him and wouldn’t push toward anything he wasn’t ready for. No matter how much she wanted him, she would go slowly.

Aymee tilted her chin up and softly kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. His fingers tightened on her ass.

Lifting her head, she smiled up at him. “Let’s go swimming.”

She stepped away before he could react. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. His hands remained in place, as though still holding her rather than the empty air in which she’d stood a moment before.

Pulling up her hood, she tucked her hair beneath it and moved the mask into place. It automatically sealed, and a soft internal glow lit her face.

“Sam, could you turn the mask light off?” she asked. It blinked out.

She flashed Arkon a smile and walked toward the ladder, carefully lowering herself onto the top rung.

“In this particular instance,” Arkon said, moving to stand on the edge of the platform beside the ladder, “I think it is acceptable to forgo the usual caution.”

Without awaiting her reply, he leapt off the platform and hit the water with a splash.

Aymee laughed, watching him move underwater. “Easy to say when you live in the water.”

Facing forward, she took a deep breath and let go.

The water swallowed her, blinding her for a moment, and she waited fearfully for it to flood her mask.

“Your heart rate has accelerated,” Sam said. “Do you require assistance?”

She took a measured breath, then another. “No. I’m okay.”

Something curled around her waist. Aymee’s hand dropped to it as she was gently turned to face Arkon. She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He shook his head and pointed to his ear.

“Oh. You can’t hear me.” She pointed up, and they surfaced together.

“How does it feel?” Arkon asked.

“Strange. I can feel the water, but not. It’s like there’s almost no resistance when I move, and it’s not even cold. It’s like…flying.”

His tentacles — save for the one around her waist — glided through the water around her as he kept himself afloat. “Macy has said much the same.”

“I bet she was absolutely thrilled the first time she used this.” She inhaled deeply. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I will be with you the whole time.” Arkon released his hold on her.

She allowed herself to sink and gazed around her. Rows of lights embedded in the concrete walls and floor illuminated the water; several were inactive, and many were clouded with age or overgrown with sea life, but they granted a full view of the pen below the surface.

Her eyes were drawn to the massive chunks of stone that had fallen from the ceiling, which lay in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the ceiling. They — and the twisted remains of the walkway they’d crushed in their fall — were covered with small plants and immobile sea creatures in a variety of colors; bright yellows, rich reds and purples, deep blues and vibrant greens. Fish with iridescent scales swam in and out of the gaps in the debris, and spindly-legged creatures slowly walked over the rubble, feeding on the plants.

She swam to the mound of rubble, feeling like a flailing toddler as she moved, and sank until her feet touched the bottom. Reaching out, she touched one of the plants. It folded in on itself, and Aymee flinched away with a laugh. She tilted her head back. Rays of sunlight penetrated the water from above as though through imperfect glass — the light was bent, altered, and amplified, creating an ethereal glow.

Carefully climbing the rock, she followed one of the spindly-legged creatures until it ducked out of sight. A shadow passed over her. She glanced up to see Arkon drifting nearby, his eyes fixed on her and a warm smile upon his lips. She returned it.

She spent time asking Sam questions and exploring the suit’s features and capabilities. Any new displays were seamlessly introduced into her view through the mask — she could monitor depth, water temperature, pressure, currents and their speeds, and track living creatures, and she knew that was only scratching the surface.

Whether ahead or behind, above or below, Arkon remained close all the while.

Eventually, she caught Arkon’s attention, and they resurfaced.

“This is amazing!” she exclaimed as soon as her head was above water. “It’s so different down there, and we’re not even out there.” She waved toward the tunnel leading out to the sea. “I wouldn’t even know what to begin painting.”

“Is there anything that moves you more than all the rest?”

Aymee grinned. “You.”

There was sudden intensity in his eyes. He saw her, all of her, and sought to claim her with his gaze.

He wants me. He’s wanted me since the first time we met, he just didn’t know how to express it.

At that moment, all she wanted to do was touch him. Kiss him.

Love him.

“Sam, release the mask.”

“All right. Field generator deactivated,” Sam said. The seal broke with a soft hiss.

She reached up and took hold of the mask, pulled it away, and tugged her hood back.

A loud crack from the ceiling echoed through the chamber. Dirt and bits of rock rained into the water from overhead.

Aymee looked up to see a huge piece of the ceiling directly above her tremble and fall.

Arkon slammed into her with startling speed, enfolding her in his arms. They plunged underwater. Stinging seawater filled her nose and mouth.

There was an immense sound behind them — the deep, resonating bass of a massive rock breaking the surface — and Aymee and Arkon were thrust forward on a wave of displaced water. Her head came up. She sputtered and gasped for air. Arkon twisted as they crashed into the wall, taking the impact on his back; the force of it rattled into Aymee.

He shifted his hold on her, raising his arms to keep her above the surface as they came back down. Her hair, free of its tie, covered her face, and she coughed up water, but she didn’t go under again. Water lashed at them angrily and pulled away several times. Arkon kept them locked in place until the waves calmed.

Aymee coughed a few times to clear her throat and swept her hair back, looking up. Bits of debris tumbled from the hole in the ceiling, which had expanded by at least half of its original size.

“Ark—”

He yanked her into a crushing embrace with arms and tentacles. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, guiding her face to his shoulder. His breath was ragged, and faint tremors rippled through him.

Aymee slipped her arms around him. “Arkon?”

“I’m such a fool,” he muttered. “I should have known the rain would… I almost lost you, Aymee.”

“I’m okay.” She rubbed her hands up and down his back. His trembling didn’t cease.

“Are you sure?” A pair of his tentacles moved over her back, mimicking the motions of her hands.

“You saved me.” She kissed his shoulder, ignoring the thundering of her pulse. “I’m fine.”

Taking gentle hold of her hair, he lifted her head back. His eyes were rounded, pupils dilated to huge, black pits. For a moment, he just stared at her.

Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a desperate, claiming kiss.

Aymee’s eyes widened only to flutter shut as she opened to him. Her body molded to his, held tight in his quivering embrace. He stole her breath as he took from her mouth, his lips caressing, sucking, nipping, and filled her once more with the breath of life. She tasted him on her tongue and craved more.

Heat suffused her. Her breasts ached, and her nipples tightened, frustratingly confined by the suit; all she wanted was to feel his skin on hers.

His hand slid from her hair to her neck, gently tipping her head back to deepen the kiss before his mouth trailed from hers and caressed her jaw.

“Arkon,” she sighed. Setting her hands on his chest, she gave him a little shove.

He drew back and blinked, his pupils contracting. “I am sorry, Aymee. I did not—”

Aymee covered his mouth once more in a kiss, silencing his words, before pulling back with a smile. “Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “Loosen your hold, Arkon,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Arkon eased his grip reluctantly, tentacles sliding over the suit at her waist, hips, and thighs as he uncoiled them. She parted her legs once they were released, and the throbbing between them intensified.

“Take us to the ladder,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He held her gaze as he swam. His trembling had ceased, but now a different sort of energy radiated from him.

Anticipation.

When they reached the ladder, he grasped one of the rungs overhead, anchoring them in place.

She kissed the small hollow at the base of his throat. “Wrap a tentacle around my waist and raise us up out of the water.”

When he obeyed, pulling up so their pelvises were exposed, she smoothed her palm down his arm, clasped his wrist, and guided his other hand to the ladder rung. “Keep your hands here.”

Arkon tilted his head, the curiosity in his gaze — which had become delightfully familiar to her — bolstered by intense longing.

“Why?” he rasped.

“Because I want you to trust me.” She brushed her nose over his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. Bringing her hand to her chest, she slid her fingertips around the suit’s circular chest piece. The suit loosened, gaping open in the back. Cool air brushed her skin.

“I trust you, Aymee.” The tentacle around her waist tightened infinitesimally.

She straightened, allowing him to take her weight, and pulled her arms free of the suit. She peeled the material farther down, exposing her breasts.

He lowered his gaze, and his pupils expanded once more. She touched a hand to his chest; his hearts beat rapidly against her palm, and he released a shuddering breath.

Aymee smiled and curled her other arm around his neck, leaning in to kiss him. He returned the kiss and his muscles tensed.

Her nipples rasped against his skin, the pressure increased with each of their heavy breaths, and jolts of pleasure shot straight to her core. She hooked a leg around his waist and drew them closer together, but that would be all — this was about him.

His mouth tasted of salt and something wholly Arkon. She slid her hand down his chest, over ridges of muscle, past his lean stomach, and halted it at his pelvis. He swayed his hips into her palm and gasped against her mouth. Something hard bulged beneath his skin, and he stilled as her fingers dipped lower.

“Aymee, I…I don’t know...”

She lifted her head and met his gaze. Apprehension and desire warred in his eyes.

“Trust me, Arkon.”

He nodded, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. “Always.”

Aymee watched his face as she explored with her hand, searching until the tips of her fingers touched upon his slit. Gently, she stroked along its length.

Arkon’s shaft pushed out against her palm; she grasped it.

The ladder rungs groaned as he tightened his grip and hissed through his teeth. The cords stood out on his neck, and his brow creased.

He was hard and slick, and her hand glided over his length easily. Only when she reached his base, and something brushed over her skin, did she lower her gaze.

His cock was darker than his normal skin at its tip and darker still at its base, where four thin, two-centimeter-long feelers writhed. Moisture glistened from his shaft. She lifted her hand and rubbed her fingers together.

He produced his own lubricant.

“Aymee.”

She looked up. Arkon had tipped his chin down to look at her with uncertainty in his eyes.

Aymee smiled, replaced her hand, and curled her fingers around his girth. He was hot and thick, velvet over steel. Her gaze locked with his as she stroked him, setting an easy rhythm.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

Arkon groaned. Two of his tentacles slid along her legs, up the backs of her thighs, and over her ass to caress the bare skin of her back.

Aymee trailed her lips over his chest and up his throat until their mouths met once more. He kissed her deeply, desperate with need, and she gave all she could. His tentacles moved around her sides to caress the undersides of her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her pelvis against him as she tightened her leg around his waist.

His hips rocked, and his stomach quivered. His motions grew more hurried, frenzied, seeking. She squeezed, quickening her strokes.

Arkon tore his mouth from hers with a growl. He threw his head back, expression drawn, teeth clenched. His shaft thickened, growing impossibly harder before a loud groan of pleasure burst from him. His body trembled and jerked as he came. Aymee didn’t relent until he sagged forward, shivering in the aftermath.

She moved her hand to the base of his shaft and pressed a fingertip to his pulsing feelers. Her core clenched as she realized where they’d touch once Arkon was inside her.

His shoulders rose and fell with his deep, ragged breaths. “That was... I… I do not have the words.”

Aymee chuckled and flattened her palm on his chest. His hearts pounded.

Releasing the ladder, he pulled her against him and fell backward into the water. He floated on the surface with her laying atop him and ran the tips of his tentacles along her spine. His bare skin, despite the solid muscle beneath, was soft. She laid her cheek on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeats, content as they drifted. Occasionally, his tentacles moved in the water, directing them well away from the broken ceiling.

“Thank you,” he finally said, awe in his voice.

Aymee laughed, lifting her head to look at him. Her hair fell forward. “It was my pleasure.”