Jax swam along the seafloor, matching his skin to the terrain. He kept his eyes in constant motion; it was unlikely the razorback had lingered in the coastal shallows for two days, but the attack had caught him off-guard, and that was unsettling. When it came to Macy’s safety, he couldn’t allow himself any degree of carelessness.

Despite his dedication to alertness, he couldn’t prevent his mind from repeatedly returning to the prior day. What they’d shared had proven more fulfilling and meaningful than he could’ve imagined. Even thoughts of prowling razorbacks couldn’t overcome his elation. He didn’t know if Macy considered them joined in the manner of her people, but she had chosen him.

They were mates.

To kraken, it was an incredibly important — if fleeting — concept, a state that could change as suddenly as the tides during a storm. Because of that, he shouldn’t allow himself such excitement. Shouldn’t allow himself such attachment.

But Macy had said humans didn’t view such relationships in the same manner. When they chose, they did so for life.

He halted and flattened himself to the bottom as he approached a potential hunting area. Each moment away from her was a new sort of suffering, a unique agony, but it was his duty to provide for her, and he’d not yet obtained tools to allow her to assist on hunts. Today, she would rest.

As he observed the nearby sea creatures, his mind conjured images from yesterday. After their joining, Macy had gone to the waterfall to wash herself; he supposed such behavior was another human oddity, one beyond his understanding. Jax had watched the water caress her bare skin. Had watched droplets roll down her breasts and gather, briefly, on the tips of her nipples before falling. He’d watched rivulets run to the hair between her legs, and lower. It had been no surprise when his willpower failed.

Jax had joined her, and soon their closeness led to touching, then kissing, and finally to another joining. They’d eaten afterward, and laid side-by-side as the stars eventually came out. Their quiet conversation had continued until well after the moons passed across the cave’s opening.

When he’d woken at dawn, he was still on land, with Macy enveloped in his arms and tentacles.

Now, he watched spinefish glide by with their long, flat tails, watched armored grayfish sink down into the sand to bury themselves with flapping fins, likely digging nests for their eggs. Silver, reflective fish drifted over the seagrass, using the light bouncing off their scales to attract smaller creatures. Schools of brightly colored fish with oversized, flowing fins swam by with irregular rhythms; their slow, nonchalant pace broken by seemingly random bursts of speed. A few hard-shells — Macy called them lobsters — trundled along the bottom, long feelers sweeping in front of them.

Jax crept closer. Most of these creatures did not stray far from the cover of rocks, coral, and seagrass; open water left them vulnerable. They wouldn’t come to him.

Though he wouldn’t dismiss an opportunity for any significant catch, his attention returned to the spinefish. Most of them were large enough, individually, that one would provide a satisfying meal for Jax and Macy both — especially since she had plants to eat with the meat.

Movement farther out caught his eye; a dark shape approached the area from the relative gloom that always lingered in the distance underwater.

No matter how well you can see, the old hunters had said, the sea never reveals everything.

As the dark shape drew nearer, he recognized it for a kraken — its tentacles flared and flattened, flared and flattened. Jax would recognize that uniquely graceful manner of swimming anywhere; Arkon glided along with seemingly little effort, tentacles always extending to straight lines whether they were trailing behind him or splayed in all directions.

Arkon drifted, turning his head from side to side as he searched the environment. He was clearly alone — when hunting parties traveled, they stayed close together, spreading out only enough not to hinder one another’s movement. They were less likely to be attacked in a group, and that closeness meant no one was completely undefended.

Why was Arkon this far from the Facility by himself?

Jax pushed up from the bottom, rising to Arkon’s level, and flashed orange over his skin.

Arkon spotted him and matched Jax’s brief coloration, but sent a pulse of green through it. He was agitated by something. Slowing, Arkon moved his hands and front tentacles in a series of gestures.

Need to speak. Surface.

Signaling his understanding, Jax scanned his surroundings for a final time and swam toward the glittering reflections that marked the barrier between water and air. They’d be totally exposed up there; Arkon would not take such a risk lightly.

Jax emerged first, and Arkon broke the surface a moment later.

“We must be quick. There was a razorback hunting these waters two days ago,” Jax said.

“You have been absent eleven days, Jax. I did not expect to find you so close after such a time. In fact, I hoped I would not find you at all.” Arkon’s pupils shrank to slits in the morning sunlight.

Of all the things Jax might’ve expected Arkon to say, he couldn’t have guessed anything close to those words. That was Arkon — he had his habits, his obsessions, as he’d say, but once he broke from them, he was entirely unpredictable.

“You hoped for my death, then?”

Arkon shook his head, brow falling. “Your brain must have been addled. Dracchus claimed you have returned at least once to the Facility since you and I last spoke, and that you departed immediately. When I called him a liar, he simply restated in his claim — without taking offense. I feared he was being truthful. I knew if I came looking for you, and couldn’t locate you, Dracchus was speaking false.”

“You came out here because of something Dracchus said? You’ve never much cared about what he thought one way or the other, Arkon.”

“And you, Jax, know of his persistence better than anyone. He must have demanded I tell him your whereabouts a dozen times, and insisted that your behavior when he encountered you was suspicious.”

“I’ve returned twice, Arkon.”

“And departed immediately both times?” Arkon blew air out of his siphons.

“Yes. I was retrieving old human devices.”

“For your collection?”

Jax clenched his jaw. He’d avoided Arkon because he didn’t want to lie to him. The trust they had in one another was strong, deep, unshakeable. Jax had never intended to endanger it, but he’d done so by deciding to withhold the truth. And even now, after everything, how much could he bring himself to say? If any kraken would understand — if any could accept what Jax was doing — it was Arkon.

He’d told Macy once that he couldn’t give her much information because he needed to protect the other kraken. This was no different; the choice was not Jax’s alone. She had a part in it. She’d be affected by it.

“In a way, yes.”

Narrowing his eyes, Arkon swam closer. “You have never been one to speak cryptically. What is it you are hiding, Jax?”

Jax’s stomach churned. Of course, Arkon would be suspicious; little escaped his notice. “I cannot explain it to you. Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because…it is better understood if I show you, Arkon, and showing you is not my choice to make.”

Arkon held Jax’s gaze. They floated in silence for many heartbeats.

“Is it worth the trouble you are stirring up?” Arkon finally asked.

“What trouble?”

“Dracchus. He distrusts you, and in this instance, I cannot blame him. You’ve given him good reason. You declined a hunt, Jax? For all your wandering, you’ve never once done that, and Dracchus knows it well.”

“As I have said before, to the abyss with Dracchus.”

The corner of Arkon’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I do not believe there is a hole big enough to swallow him.”

Jax couldn’t help his own smile. “And if there was, he’d likely want to fight it.”

Arkon’s expression brightened with humor briefly before reverting to its prior seriousness. “I don’t think he will back down this time. He’s wanted to prove himself against you since we were young, Jax, and for some reason, your recent behavior has pushed him to new levels.”

“I have deferred leadership of most hunts to him. I do not challenge him publicly, I do not attempt to sway the others in any way. What reason have I given him?” Jax’s hearts thumped, and anger poured heat into his veins.

“Dracchus’s concerns are…foreign to me, in many ways,” Arkon said, dropping his gaze, “and I cannot pretend to understand him any more than I can pretend to truly understand you. If I were to venture a guess, it would be an oversimplification, and that would avail us nothing.”

“It does not matter. I will deal with him when I must.” Part of Jax was tempted to return to the Facility now and issue a challenge to Dracchus. If Dracchus suffered another defeat against Jax, he would settle for a time, but it would never stop. Not until one of them was dead.

“That is what I am trying to explain, Jax. This time, it may well be more than you can deal with, if you leave it for too long. He has made no attempt to keep his opinions to himself. For all the respect they have for your abilities, you are no more normal to the others than I am. If Dracchus convinces them of your betrayal, the truth will make little difference.”

Jax tilted his head back and stared, unseeing, toward the soothing blue of the cloudless sky. Even as part of him wanted the fight, the rest of him — stronger by far — wanted nothing more than to return to Macy and never concern himself with these affairs again. He knew, had the situation involved anyone other than Jax, Arkon would have paid it no mind; he held no interest in social struggles.

Could Jax live without seeing the Facility again?

His immediate answer was yes. He wasn’t sure how to feel about his lack of shame for it.

“For now, I will not worry about Dracchus or the rest of them.” Jax returned his attention to Arkon. “I have betrayed your trust, and for that I am sorry. If you take the chance of trusting me one more time, I ask ten days of you. On the tenth morning, I will meet you at the Broken Cavern, and I will reveal the secret I have kept.”

Arkon searched Jax’s face and, after a short while, nodded. “You have my trust, Jax, as always. Ten days. But please…do not ignore the situation with Dracchus. It will grow worse the longer it is disregarded.”

“Warn the others of the razorback. May the stones fall as you would have them lie, Arkon.”

“And the currents carry you where you would go, Jax.”

“You’re quieter than normal.” Macy slipped a piece of fish into her mouth.

Jax picked at his food with the tips of two claws; he’d eaten little, thus far.

She had woken to find him gone, but it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes later when he emerged from the tunnel with a meter-long spinefish dangling from an extended tentacle.

Macy set her food down and crawled toward him. She brushed her fingers over his tentacle before settling her hand over his. “Jax?”

His eyes fell to her hand. “I have something to ask of you,” he finally said, “but the choice is yours.”

Something in his voice — his uncertainty, perhaps — made her heart skip and her stomach clench. She was used to him lapsing into companionable silence from time to time, but this…she’d never seen him so withdrawn, so…off.

Was he…was he going to send her away? Send her back home?

The thought stung. She hadn’t realized how much it would hurt…but she hadn’t expected to care for him so deeply, either.

Jax lifted his gaze. “Why do you appear so troubled, Macy?”

She drew away “Are you…are you giving me up?”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head, brow creased.

“Are you giving me the choice to go home?”

He slid his tentacles toward her, wrapped them around her back, and pulled her close. Raising his hands, he cupped her cheeks. “Why would you think that?”

Macy put her hands on his shoulders and searched his face. In it, she saw sincerity, desire, confusion. “You’re not acting like yourself, Jax. So, when you said you had something to ask me, that it would be my choice, I just thought…” She licked her lips and inhaled deeply. “You’re not letting me go, then?”

“I don’t ever want to.” He smoothed back her hair, and his thumb brushed over her ear. “I am sorry that I’ve not behaved like myself this morning. My thoughts have been…burdened.”

All the fear and panic that had welled inside her vanished, leaving a vast space to fill with concern. She settled a hand over his and pressed her cheek into his palm. “What’s wrong?”

“Arkon came searching for me this morning. He was troubled…in part because I betrayed his trust.”

“How so?”

“I have avoided him the last few times I went home because I did not want to lie to him.”

Macy frowned. “What would you have lied to him about?”

The tip of his thumb claw lightly grazed her cheek. “You.”

“Me? Why would I— You don’t want him to know about me.”

“I don’t want any of them to know about you.”

To keep his people safe, he’d refused to tell her much about their home. To keep Macy safe, he’d hidden her from the kraken.

“What…what would they do if they did?” She pressed her palms to his chest.

“I…do not know, Macy. They are all aware of the history between our people. How that would affect their reactions, I cannot guess. If they came to know you, I do not think any would wish you harm.”

“You didn’t harm me, even before you knew me.”

There was a sorrow in his smile that she’d not seen before. “I am not like most of them.”

She nodded and took his hands in hers, settling them on her lap. “And Arkon?”

“He would not hurt you.”

“You said this is only part of the problem. What’s the rest?”

“I have raised the suspicions of another kraken, and he seems determined to convince our people that I have betrayed them.”

“Betrayed them how? Because of your absence? That’s normal for you, isn’t it?”

“When I went back to find your suit, Dracchus confronted me. He had declared a hunt. I refused, which I have never done. I have missed hunts during my wanderings, but I have never refused one while I was present. Our people rely on the hunters to bring in enough meat to keep them fed, especially those who are unable to go out on their own.”

How could she not feel responsible for that? He’d gone back because of her, and had refused because of her.

“Is that all it takes? You refuse a single hunt, and it means you’re working against them?

He squeezed her hands gently. “In your home, you grow food for your people, and you have men who hunt on land and sea to bring home meat, don’t you?”

“Yes, but if someone doesn’t work for a day, it doesn’t mean they’re betraying us.”

“Because you have plenty already. For kraken, there is only the hunt. It is our survival. There is nothing more important, except protecting females and younglings.”

“What will they do?”

“I cannot say.” One of his tentacles brushed up and down her back slowly. “But it makes little difference to me. My place has never truly been there.”

The melancholy in his voice was undercut by a strange confidence. She didn’t know how to respond to him, didn’t understand how he felt about it; he likely didn’t understand, himself.

“What was it you wanted to ask me, Jax?”

“I have betrayed your trust, as well, Macy.” His jaw muscles ticked. “I told Arkon I would show him what I have been hiding in ten days. It was not right for me to speak for you, to take your choice, so know that you do not have to agree. You don’t have to come with me and meet him.”

Withdrawing a hand from his, she traced the dark stripes on his head and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You trust him, and I trust you. I’d like to meet your friend.”

Jax leaned his forehead against hers and slipped his arms around her. “You are certain?”

“Yes.” Macy smiled and rubbed her nose against his face. “It will set your mind at ease, and maybe his... Well, maybe not so much his.”

“I think he will be more…curious, than anything.”

She chuckled. “I remember someone else being curious.”

“I still am.” The tip of a tentacle slipped between her thighs and the hem of her long shirt.

His touch sent a thrill through her. Her sex clenched, and she rose to her knees, bracing her hands on his chest and parting her thighs. He settled his hands on her hips.

“What is it you’re still curious about?” she asked.

“I want to know every little piece of you, and learn how you respond when I touch each one.”

“So touch me, Jax,” she begged. His words made her ache for more.

He bunched her shirt in his hands and drew it over her head. She returned her hands to his broad chest, and he cupped her breasts, caressed them, teased their hardened tips.

Macy arched into his palms with a sigh.

When the tentacle between Macy’s thighs stroked her slit, she gasped and parted her legs further. The tip of his limb slid along her slick folds. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, surrendering to his ministrations. She rocked against him, jolts of pleasure sweeping through her as he moved his suction cups, one at a time, over her clit.

She came quickly. He took hold of her hips, forcing her to ride out the waves. Liquid heat flooded her core and flowed from her, coating his tentacle and her thighs. Before she’d recovered, he lifted her and pressed the tip of his jutting erection to her sex, lowering her onto him with deliberate slowness. Her inner muscles quivered, drawing him deeper.

Jax slid his hands to her legs, guiding them to encircle his hips, and she locked her arms around his neck.

Breath ragged, she opened her eyes.

The two of them remained still, their bodies intertwined, and Macy felt the beat of his pulse echoing through her. She’d never felt so close to anyone in her life; her bond with Jax transcended physicality, extending into her heart, her soul.

She hugged him closer, kissed him, rose and fell to take him fully into her body. His tentacles ran up her back and curled over her shoulders as he broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her neck.

“Macy,” he rasped, moving in time with her, his thrusts pushing deeper and deeper.

Macy closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “Love me, Jax.”

He growled and returned his hands to her hips, lifting her up and slamming her down on his shaft. She took him to his base, and his feelers writhed, flicking along her folds and over her clit. All the while, his lips trailed heat over her face and neck.

She lost herself in a whirlwind of sensation and pleasure, in Jax’s scent, feel, and intensity. Short breaths escaped her with his thrusts, each one striking a cord within her that pushed her higher and higher until she finally erupted.

She came with a cry, clawing at his back with her nails.

Jax roared as her sex clamped on his shaft, and his body shook with the force of his climax. His heat flooded her. She rode him until neither of them had anything left to give.

He held her when she sagged against him, as they both caught their breath, and continued to place gentle kisses on her skin.

Macy smiled and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. She was on the verge of dozing when he spoke softly.

“Always, Macy.”