Arkon’s siphon twitched enough to draw him from the depths of sleep into murky awareness. Without opening his eyes, he turned his head away.

Something touched him near his nostrils, tickling his skin. Confusion suffused the groggy haze that had settled over his mind. He lifted a hand and brushed his palm over his face.

Another tickle, this time on one of his tentacles. His muscles tightened as the limb reflexively curled away, and Arkon finally opened his eyes.

Laughter filled his ears — Aymee’s laughter.

“I finally woke up before you!” Aymee grinned down at him. “I’ve been waiting three days to get you back.”

He furrowed his brow and tilted his head, staring up at her. The barrack’s overhead lights were off; it was very early morning, but Aymee was wide awake. Arkon smiled. Joy and humor brightened her face, and he couldn’t think of a more beautiful image to wake to.

It didn’t hurt that she’d not yet dressed for the day.

Thrusting out his tentacles, he caught her around the waist and dragged her down atop him. She shrieked with laughter, hands landing on either side of his head and hair falling around their faces. Her breasts pressed against his chest and desire stirred within him.

“Well, now you have me, what do you plan to do with me?” she asked.

He brushed the hair back from one side of her face and studied her features. It seemed there was something new to be found in them every day, something more to appreciate.

“I will allow my imagination no limits in deciding that.”

The glee in her expression softened, giving way to sudden solemnity. She cupped his jaw, running her thumb over his cheek. “I feel like I’ve waited for you my whole life.” Her gentle touch moved to his lower lip. “I didn’t know it then, but that moment on the beach, the first time we spoke to each other, I felt...something. A connection. I thought it was simple fascination. You were so different, so extraordinary, so...beautiful.

“I anticipated every glimpse of you, cherished every gift. We never spoke except for that short encounter, but I could almost feel you. And then you finally came to me. Our friendship was so easy. It was as though we’d always known each other. Does that make it fate?” she asked. “When I had to make the choice to part ways, it devastated me, but not as much as the thought of losing you irrevocably.”

He covered her hand with his. “I cannot tell you whether it is fate or not, Aymee. That is a word which holds little meaning to my people. The kraken have simply survived. We were made, and we exist, and that was as far as most of us seem to have considered it.

“But the chances of you and I ever meeting, of ever knowing of one another’s existence, were so tiny, so improbable, that it should never have been. I have spent most of my life searching out something I could never define, pushing to express thoughts and emotions I did not — or could not — understand, and when I finally saw you for the first time...the rest of it didn’t matter anymore.”

His chest swelled with the emotions she’d woken in him; even now, he could not express himself in a way that did his feelings justice. But Aymee understood. From the beginning, she’d understood.

She turned her face and kissed his hand, smiling. “I love you, Arkon.”

“And I love you, Aymee.”

Aymee pressed her lips to his before laying her head on his shoulder. They remained in that position for a time, enjoying the mutual embrace. He closed his eyes and focused on the steady beat of her heart.

“We should make the most of the early hours,” she eventually said, slipping from his arms. “We’ve been cooped up for days.” She grabbed her suit and grinned at him. “Take me swimming, and when we get back, you can have your wicked way with me.”

He watched her walk away, appreciating the play of muscle in her lithe legs and the sensual sway of her hips and backside. Once she was out of sight, he turned his gaze upward.

If Jax had wandered the seas in a physical search, Arkon had navigated tangled paths of thought, hoping to find meaning, to find purpose. To find something beyond mere survival. He’d been restless in his own fashion.

Now, he’d found contentment. He was still curious, still inquisitive, still thirsted for knowledge, but he was content with Aymee. He was happy. Though he couldn’t pretend to understand the changes he’d undergone, he couldn’t deny them. She filled in a piece of him that had been missing.

She was his muse, his centerpiece, the jewel that belonged at the heart of his life.

His tentacles shifted over the bedding, picking up hints of her taste on the fabric.

His Aymee.

“I’m ready!” she called.

Arkon turned his head to see her emerge from the bathroom. She picked up her mask from one of the nearby bunks and moved toward the door leading into the corridor. He rolled off the bed and accompanied her.

They hurried through the corridors, sped by her excitement. Aymee was the first through the door to the submarine pen.

“—mee? Arkon?” a voice called, echoing through the chamber.

“Is that…” Aymee stepped forward, looking over the rail. “Macy!”

He hurried to the railing beside her. Macy stood on the lower platform, water dripping from her diving suit, flanked by Jax and Dracchus.

Macy tilted her head back and beamed up at them before she and Aymee simultaneously raced for the stairs.

Arkon followed her, turning toward the stairwell as Macy and Aymee met on the center steps and embraced one another.

“I missed you so much!” Aymee exclaimed.

“I was worried when we came in here and didn’t see either of you!” Macy grinned at Arkon. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“It is good to see you,” he said, and shifted his gaze to the two kraken at the base of the stairs. “All of you.”

Aymee pulled back. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here, Mace?”

“They wanted to check on you two, so I demanded they bring me along.”

“Macy demanded to see you before she knew we were coming,” Jax said, his half-smile belying his serious tone. “She said she would go by herself if I didn’t take her.”

“I knew he wouldn’t let that happen.” Macy’s gaze was warm as it met Jax’s. “And it worked, right?”

“Where’s baby Sarina?” Aymee asked.

“Rhea has her with the other females and younglings. They’ll protect her from anything. Even Dracchus wouldn’t cross those women.”

Dracchus grunted. “They will not keep me from my...what was your word, Macy? Niece?”

“I thought she was my niece.” Arkon looked at Macy and lifted his brows in question. On the surface, human familial relationships seemed simple, but perhaps they were more complicated than he’d assumed.

Macy chuckled. “You’re both her uncles, and she’s got the best uncles in all of Halora.”

Arkon was reminded of how much he missed these people — not the kraken in general, but his family. Only Sarina was related to anyone else by blood, but that didn’t matter. Their bonds had formed in different ways.

And now Aymee was part of his family, too.

He turned to look down at Jax and Dracchus. “There is something I must speak to the two of you about.”

“Come on, Aymee,” Macy said, hooking Aymee’s arm with her own, “show me where you’ve been staying. I felt like I was calling your names forever before you came out.”

“Sure. There’s actually a lot for me to tell you.” Aymee walked alongside her up the stairs and toward the interior of the base.

Jax moved up the steps to watch the females disappear into the short hallway. A few moments later, the metallic groan of the opening door echoed through the submarine pen.

“It opened?” Jax asked, surprise on his features.

The groan repeated as the door closed.

“The suit I brought for Aymee interfaced with the computer in this base, just like Macy’s had at the Facility. It opened the door for us.”

“What is beyond it?” Jax swung his attention toward the hallway again.

“Let us talk first. Then you can explore until your curiosity is sated.”

Nodding, Jax followed Arkon down to the lower platform, stopping near Dracchus.

“You and Aymee are well?” Jax asked.

“Yes. We had an unplanned run-in with a sandseeker a few days ago, but apart from that, we have been comfortable. We’ve...made good use of our time together.”

“You mated with her?” Dracchus asked.

Arkon straightened his back and rose slightly higher. “Yes. We have claimed one another.”

“I am glad for you.” Jax lifted a hand and settled it on Arkon’s shoulder for a moment before dropping it away. The contact was surprising but welcome; the warmth and good nature of the gesture were clear.

“In many ways, I owe it to you, Jax.” Arkon met his friend’s eyes. “Had you not rescued Macy… I would ask more of you, though. Both of you.”

“What do you require?”

“Your support. We are mated, and our current situation, while viable, is not ideal… I want to bring Aymee to the Facility. To stay.”

Dracchus and Jax exchanged a glance, and more meaning and understanding seemed to pass between the two kraken in that moment than Arkon had ever thought possible.

“You have my support, no matter what,” Jax said. “Just as you gave me yours.”

“We have seen boats during the last few hunts.” Dracchus tilted his head back and ran his eyes over the shadowed walls and ceiling. “They do not appear to be fishing. We must assume the danger is growing, and the humans are searching for us.”

“What does that have to do with taking Aymee to the Facility?” Arkon asked.

“It is no longer safe here. If Aymee is your mate, you must bring her among our people,” Dracchus replied.

“And Kronus? I will not tolerate so much as an implication of intent to harm her.” Arkon’s skin took on a faint red tint; he swallowed his anger but could not put it aside.

“Kronus has been suspicious of your absence since the news about the human hunters.” Jax moved to one of the mooring posts at the edge of the platform and leaned against it, curling a tentacle around its base. “He has not eased, nor have his followers. But we will keep them at bay, together.”

“I will put him down as many times as necessary. I do not fear facing him.” There was no aggression in Dracchus’s voice, only cold, unshakeable confidence.

“I have not spoken to Aymee about this yet. I want the choice to be hers. This is something—”

Arkon snapped his mouth shut, and all three kraken turned their heads toward the tunnel that led to the sea. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the concrete walls had changed; something was moving through the water.

A hushed voice echoed from the darkness.

A human voice.

Arkon’s hearts stilled. There was a chance it was simply some curious fishermen from The Watch, but that seemed as probable as he and Aymee meeting one another in the first place.

“The females,” Jax whispered.

“They are safe,” Arkon replied. “The door automatically locks.”

The sound of something breaking the water drew nearer. Arkon quickly signaled to the others.

To the dark. No water.

The kraken separated, moving quickly and silently to the deepest shadows in the pen. Arkon flattened himself in a corner and altered his skin to match his surroundings. His hearts thumped. Jax and Dracchus slipped into their own positions and faded into the environment; even Arkon, who knew what to look for, had difficulty discerning their forms.

From his vantage, Arkon watched the water. Whispers floated from the tunnel, more distinct than before.

A boat coasted into the pen. It was undoubtedly from The Watch — riding on a shallow draft, it was as long as three or four kraken stretched head-to-tentacle, its single sail bundled up. Six human males manned the craft; two on each side propelled it forward with oars, and two more were at the front.

Randall sat on the foremost bench. Cyrus stood near the prow.

“The hell is this place?” asked Joel from his position at the oars.

“Ain’t no cave,” Cyrus replied. “Bring us in over by that ladder. We’ll tie off there.”

“Look at that ceiling,” another man said. “Should we even be in here?”

“Been up for this long,” Cyrus said.

The boat, save for the mast, exited Arkon’s vision as it neared the wall. There was the sound of movement from inside the vessel, and the mast bobbed and rocked as two of the men climbed onto the platform. Both had long guns slung over their shoulders. They knelt and swung the weapons into their hands, watching opposite directions, as Joel climbed the ladder and tied a rope around the nearest mooring post.

“Think anyone at The Watch knows about this place?” one of the other men asked.

“Think it’d be empty if they did, Chad? No one has been here in years from the looks of it,” another said.

“Even if they knew about it, what use would they have for this place?” The voice was Randall’s; a moment later, he hauled himself onto the platform with one arm. His face was pale, and his left arm was bundled against his chest. “The roof could collapse at any moment.”

Cyrus climbed up last. His face was a patchwork of light green and yellow bruises, and there were scabs on his cheek and lips. “Animals don’t care about that shit. That’s what we’re hunting, boys. Animals.”

Randall scowled, glaring at Cyrus. “Quick sweep. I don’t want us here any longer than necessary. Some of that roof fell recently.”

“And how can you tell that, Randy?” Cyrus grinned, displaying a black space where a tooth had been knocked out. Arkon felt a small pleasure in that.

“Because, Ranger, some of that debris is not overgrown like the rest. You all know what to do.”

The humans split up, most of them holding their long guns across their chests, fingers near the triggers, and began their search.

“What do you think this place was for?” one of the men called out, his voice echoing loudly.

“Keep it down, Ward!” Chad hissed.

Cyrus and Joel walked up the steps to the second level, out of sight.

Arkon’s chest tightened. The door would not open for these men — he was certain of it. But what if Macy and Aymee came out before the hunters left?

“Well damn. Hey Randy!” Cyrus called. “Best head up here and look at this.”

Randall — who had remained near the boat, peering at the other side of the pen through the morning gloom — turned and went up the steps to join the others. Within a few moments, all the humans were on the second level.

“Got a short hallway leading deeper into the base, and next to it… Looks like your fish girl’s paintings.” Cyrus’s smirk was apparent in his voice.

A chill swept through Arkon’s body, stilling everything inside him and building to an unbearable, heavy dread. Though he’d stopped to admire their paintings on the wall upstairs almost every time he’d passed by, he hadn’t realized it was clear evidence of their presence.

“Could’ve been done by anyone,” Randall said.

“Oh? So you can paint like this, too, Randy? Damn shame I left my brushes back home, or I’d have you show me.”

“This looks recent,” Joel said.

“It could’ve been in the last few days or the last few months,” Randall said. “This wall wouldn’t get any sun, so the paint won’t fade.”

“You still trying to protect her?” Cyrus demanded. “She shot you, kid. Pretty cut and dry, that relationship.”

“I’m being practical. I’m not any happier about this situation than you are, Cyrus, but it is what it is. We’ve gone up and down this coast and haven’t found a single sign of them.”

“This is a damned sign! It’s the same shit she painted on the side of her house, and it’s right here next to three closed doors. Going to call that a coincidence? Hell, they’re probably living back there!”

“Those doors aren’t likely to be functional,” Randall said.

Arkon looked toward Jax and Dracchus’s hiding places and flashed yellow. Jax leaned off the wall, glancing toward the steps, and signaled.

They know.

“There’s a little light flashing at that door,” Joel’s voice was hushed.

The scraping of metal echoed through the pen. The hunters went quiet after the whisper of footsteps.

“Wait until Jax sees it,” Macy said.

“Get back inside!” Jax yelled.

“Wha—” Aymee’s words were drowned out by a scuffling of boots and shouts from the hunters.

Macy’s scream was cut off, and Aymee’s angry exclamation silenced.

“Months ago, huh, Randy?” Cyrus laughed. “This must be that girl who left to live with the fish.”

Someone growled — Macy.

Jax moved to climb onto the second level, but Dracchus caught him and held him down before he exposed himself.

“What are you doing?” Randall demanded.

“What you don’t have the balls to do,” Cyrus replied. “You ask the fishermen back in town, they’ll tell you — a hook needs to be baited if you want to catch a fish. We just found our bait.”

“We’re not hunting humans, Cyrus. Let them go — both of you. We have no right to harm these women.”

“Once we bag what we came for. Though I have something to settle with this bitch.”

Aymee cried out sharply.

Fury crashed through Arkon like waves lashing the shore during a storm. It filled his limbs with anxious, overwhelming energy, and everything in him screamed to charge to the upper platform and tear into the hunters. To protect Aymee. To avenge her pain. His nostrils flared. He’d never craved the spilling of blood as he did in that moment, had never longed for the satisfaction of breaking another creature. The fire in his veins urged him to violence.

Muscles tense, he crept forward.

A flash of yellow in the distance called his attention to the other kraken; Jax’s eyes were filled with rage, and his skin was crimson. Dracchus met Arkon’s gaze and shook his head firmly.

Calm. Keep to the dark, Dracchus signaled. Keep quiet.

“We heard you,” Cyrus called. “Might as well come out if you don’t want these two hurt. Blondie’s quite a looker. Be a damn shame to mess that up.”

“Don’t touch her,” Aymee grated.

Clenching his teeth, Arkon halted. Calm. Quiet. He’d seen the hunters’ weapons. A headlong attack would only expose him to their gunfire and would do Aymee no good. He forced his breath to slow, but his tension did not ease.

He reached up and grasped the ledge, rising just enough to peer over it to the second level. The humans were just outside the hallway in a ring; Joel held Macy, his hand covering her mouth, and Aymee was bent forward, one of Cyrus’s hands fisted in her hair. He held a pistol in his other hand.

Randall stepped toward Cyrus. “Cyrus Taylor, I am hereby—”

“Shut it already, kid. You want to go by the book?” Cyrus fired his gun from the hip. The sound of it was thunderous as it bounced off the concrete walls. “We’re going by the original book.”

Aymee and Macy screamed. Randall stumbled backward and collapsed on the floor.

“What the fuck, Cyrus?” Chad shouted.

“Randall Laster has been relieved of command,” Cyrus replied.

“We never talked about shooting him!” one of the others said.

“He chose his side, Hassan, and it was going to come down to this either way. We bag these fucking fishmen, and Randy’s sacrifice will have been worth it. We’ll tell his father he died in the hunt. That’s more than he deserves.”

“We’re not supposed to kill our own, Cyrus!”

“The fuck you think the Culver Hunters started out doing? We hunted traitors and deserters, kiddies. When that wasn’t a thing anymore, we moved to bounty hunting — running down anyone who pissed off the wrong people. Shit, you haven’t lived until you’ve hunted a human. Nothing like it...but these fish-men are pretty damned close. Don’t know why the hell we stopped.”

Cyrus moved closer to the railing, dragging Aymee along with him. She clawed at his wrist. He shook her forcefully, and she returned her hands to her hair as though to relieve the pressure. “After what this bitch did to me, I have zero issue with putting a slug in her gut. You come on up here and talk to us, or we lay her out next to Randy and come down there.”

Arkon’s fingers flexed; brittle concrete crumbled beneath them.

Calm, he reminded himself, but the word possessed no immediate meaning to him. Aymee was in danger, her life was at risk, and he wasn’t there with her. He might lose her forever. If he moved quickly enough, he could get to Cyrus and strike a mortal blow before…

“You’re a monster,” Aymee said.

“I’m the only thing standing between you and the monsters,” Cyrus growled.

Monsters…

Arkon wouldn’t give them the monster they wanted to slay.

He lowered himself. Perhaps he might have compared Cyrus to Kronus, once, but there was a stark difference — Cyrus was not held in check by fear, or honor, or anything of the sort. He’d been left battered and bloodied, and it had only pushed him toward this.

Arkon looked to his companions; Jax — whose expression was a jumble of terror and fury, of helplessness and desperation, mirroring Arkon’s emotions — was still restrained by Dracchus.

Arkon could not lose Aymee. Would not.

A hook needs to be baited if you want to catch a fish.

He knew then what he had to do.

Go around, Arkon signed.

Confusion flicked over Jax’s features, but he nodded. Dracchus released him, and together the two kraken crept along the wall, toward the far steps.

Arkon drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs. Life had no meaning without risks. Everything he cared about was at risk now. Almost everyone he loved. At least Sarina was safe.

“I am coming up,” Arkon called. “There is no need to harm the females.”

“Arkon, no!” Aymee yelled.

“And here part of me thought you’d dive into that water and swim as far away as you could,” Cyrus said.

“Fuck!” Joel exclaimed. “She bit me!”

“Don’t come!” Macy shouted.

“Damn it, Joel, you’re twice her size! Handle your shit.”

“What do you want me to do?” he demanded.

“Hit the bitch. Shut her up. The adults are trying to talk.”

“You’re going to regret th—”

A thwap — flesh against flesh — silenced Macy.

Arkon moved to the steps, forcing his skin to its normal color — doing so had never been so difficult. He kept low, shielding himself from the hunters’ lines of sight. “I am coming. I told you there’s no need to do them harm.”

“Guess you’re just taking too long,” Cyrus said.

“Lay down your weapons. There’s no reason we cannot all leave here in peace.”

“Arkon, he isn’t—”

Cyrus’s shout cut off Aymee’s words. “Shut your mouth!”

Clenching his jaw, Arkon climbed the stairs. Cyrus wore his broken-toothed grin. Macy was on hands and knees at Joel’s feet, lip bloody. Randall lay where he’d fallen. The other three hunters pointed their long guns toward Arkon, eyes wide with shock and fear.

Beyond the humans, Jax and Dracchus were dark shapes creeping across the floor.

“You’re even uglier than I remember,” Cyrus said.

“As are you,” Arkon replied. “I’d hate to have to make it worse if we cannot work this out.”

“I’m not giving you that chance this time.”

Cyrus raised his arm and fired three times in rapid succession.

“No!” Aymee screamed.

The breath fled Arkon’s lungs; it felt like three blows from Dracchus impacting his abdomen at once. He looked down to see blood oozing from three holes, and piercing, burning pain spread across his stomach.

When he lifted his gaze, Aymee was staring at him, her eyes round with terror, their whites pronounced. His limbs trembled, and his head spun. Her face blurred as his vision clouded.