Hunter of the Tide Read online

  His growing appreciation of Rhea’s company was the other component to his change in mood and the reason for his current eagerness. She presented a hard, no-nonsense exterior that would have been welcomed amongst Fort Culver’s rangers, but her personality didn’t stop there — the kindness and compassion beneath her outer toughness were staggering.

  After tossing another chunk of fish to Ikaros, Randall seasoned the fillets with a few pinches of the spices Aymee had sent to Macy from The Watch, careful not to use too much — there was a limited supply, and he wasn’t sure how Rhea and Melaina would react to their taste.

  Rhea’s advances had been so strong and forward that Randall had been taken aback by them, caught totally off-guard and unprepared. It had been a direct confrontation with the strangeness of his situation and the otherness of the kraken.

  Randall was attracted to Rhea. There was no denying that fact, especially after she’d seen the evidence with her own eyes. The silky touch of her hand on his abdomen had nearly sent him over the edge, and only his own confusion had held him back; was it right to want her? To give in to those urges? To his father, such would be considered bestiality at best, a betrayal of humanity, a violation of natural law.

  But the more he learned about her, the more he saw her, the less alien she seemed. The kraken were part human, and their human qualities became more evident to him as time passed. Rhea’s differences — cast in the light of her compassion, of her resilience, of her confidence — were marks of beauty unlike any he’d ever encountered.

  Was he even capable of pleasing her? Her anatomy, though similar in its basic form to a human woman’s, was still different, and Randall wasn’t built like a kraken male.

  More than anything, he needed to know that their mating wasn’t merely a matter of Rhea sating her curiosity. From the little he understood about kraken culture, the females chose males based on their ability to protect and provide.

  Randall hadn’t proven himself a capable provider. They all sure as hell knew he couldn’t stand against any of the kraken in a physical confrontation, and he’d never even seen the monstrous sea creatures the kraken sometimes spoke of battling in the open water. He hadn’t given her any reason to choose him; being different, being human, couldn’t be enough.

  And he needed to know that it wouldn’t just be an exploration of curiosity on his end, either. He needed to know his interest in her was more than a fleeting lust for the exotic.

  Ikaros stood up and spun around, looking through the wide, open window between the kitchen and the mess hall. An instant later, Randall heard the sound of tentacles moving over the floor — usually soft and subtle, but quite distinct from the Facility’s ambient sounds.

  “I’m in here,” Randall called, scooping the finished fillets onto a tray.

  At the edge of Randall’s vision, Ikaros lowered his stance, swept back his long whiskers, and released a warbling growl. He’d never heard the prixxir make such a sound; the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood.

  Randall turned to the window to see Kronus — the most vocal of the anti-human kraken — approaching with a pair of his followers. The ochre-skinned kraken scowled at the table Randall had unfolded and placed near the kitchen, shoving it aside as easily as he might’ve tossed a pebble into a river.

  These were the kraken who most resisted change. Who resented it.

  The trio moved toward the entryway into the kitchen. Ikaros’s growl deepened, and the prixxir retreated closer to the edge of the counter.

  “That’s close enough,” Randall said, dropping a hand to the pistol on his hip.

  Kronus stopped and glared at Randall through the window, skin taking on a crimson tinge. “You do not give me orders, human.”

  When Rhea said human, it was an endearment. From Kronus’s mouth it was filthy, derogatory, and brimming with malevolence.

  Randall unfastened the holster’s retaining strap and wrapped his fingers around the pistol’s grip. Kronus wasn’t the biggest of his kind, or the strongest, but Randall had seen the kraken’s capabilities. Even with a half-wall and three or four meters of distance between himself and Kronus, the danger was immediate.

  If the kraken got anywhere within reach, Randall would be dead in a fraction of a second.

  “It’s not an order. Just a warning,” he said.

  “Shoot, human,” one of the others said, lips spread into a wide, razor-sharp grin. “It will only give us reason to tear you apart.”

  “You stay where you are, and I won’t have any reason. But if you have other plans…you’d best ask yourselves if you’re willing to die today. Because I guarantee, one of you will be dead before the other two get here.” Randall slid the firearm from the holster but kept the barrel pointed down. His heart thumped. It wasn’t fear; this was the beginning of an adrenaline high. “If you have business with me, I’m more than willing to talk. I’m sure we can all keep it friendly.”

  A brown kraken broke away from the group and moved to the open doorway, filling the space with his muscular frame. He ducked as though to enter the kitchen.

  Ikaros leapt to the floor, raising his spine fin and whiskers and growling beside Randall’s feet.

  Randall picked up a knife off the table with his free hand and threw it without hesitation. It embedded itself in the doorframe, centimeters from the brown kraken’s head.

  Snarling, the kraken bared his teeth and lifted his claws, skin turning red. “The human struck first.”

  Kronus crossed his arms over his chest. “We have borne witness to this attack.”

  “You’ve witnessed a second warning,” Randall said. “If I’d attacked, his brains would be splattered on the floor behind him. I’ll say this one more time: if you have business with me, I’m willing to talk, but you’re going to back the hell up first.”

  The brown kraken lunged forward. Time seemed to slow as Randall raised his pistol. He wished he hadn’t experienced moments like this so often over the last few months, wished that he wasn’t staring his own death in the eyes once again, especially now that he’d found a new reason to live.

  A tentacle wrapped around the kraken’s throat from behind. His upper body pivoted backwards, at odds with the forward momentum of his lower half, and then he was swung around and shoved away from the entrance, sprawling onto his back.

  Rhea imposed herself in the doorway with her back turned to Randall. Her skin was a vibrant red, and her face was in profile as she glared at Kronus and the other kraken.

  Tentacles writhing, the brown kraken flipped himself onto his front, pushed up on his hands, and bared his teeth at Rhea.

  “You have defied myself and Dracchus again,” she said.

  “Your pet human attacked without provocation,” Kronus growled.

  “Krullshit,” Randall said. “I gave you clear boundaries, and you chose to cross them. Can’t blame me for your inability to follow simple instructions.”

  Rhea turned her head toward the brown kraken, who was lifting himself off the floor. “Is this true, Neo?”

  Neo rubbed his throat before pointing toward the doorway. “We are not restricted from entering a room!”

  Rhea stared at Neo. “What need have you to enter this room? Were you intending to cook your next meal?” She looked between the three of them. “I see no food.”

  “The humans have begun corrupting our females, as well,” Neo spat. “Beware, Rhea. Your slit will not protect you from retribution now that you have chosen to betray our people along with the others.”

  Rhea narrowed her eyes and advanced toward Neo. “You dare speak to me so?”

  Neo’s brows fell, and his jaw muscles bulged. He was larger and undoubtedly stronger than Rhea, but kraken society valued the females — precious few in number — over the males. When it came to her, his threats were all bluster, and he knew it.

  Randall shifted his pistol, training it on the other two kraken through the window; his fascination with the confrontation couldn’t be allowed
to hinder his awareness.

  The male beside Kronus moved forward slowly, inserting himself between Neo and Rhea. His tan skin turned yellow as he bowed his head.

  “Apologies, Rhea,” he said. “We were curious about what the human was doing. Neo wanted to look closer, but the human threw a knife at him.” He raised his head and shifted closer to Rhea, brushing the back of his fingers down her arm. The yellow of his skin gave way to maroon. “I would make a good protector for you and Melaina. My den is empty, and I will gladly share it with you.”

  Rhea’s skin reverted to its usual gray.

  The nuances of kraken social interaction were mysterious to Randall; he didn’t understand how the conversation had taken such a sudden, unexpected turn. But he did understand the twisting, forceful weight in his gut, and the fire in his chest. This wasn’t about the implication that he’d make a poor mate, though that stung on its own. No, this was about someone attempting to take Rhea. To seduce her.

  “She already claimed her male,” Randall said, approaching the doorway, “and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

  The male in front of Rhea laughed. “You are not strong enough to protect this female and her youngling.” His hands settled on Rhea’s hips. “You cannot please a female, and you cannot even dance as we do. You are weak.” Two of his front tentacles lifted to brush along Rhea’s.

  “Maybe not.” Randall stepped through the doorway into the mess hall, aiming the pistol at the kraken in front of Rhea. “But she claimed me anyway. And I’m a damned good shot, if nothing else. Keep your hands on my female if you want to find out just how good.”

  The male growled.

  Kronus moved forward. “You cannot claim our females!”

  “You might not have noticed, but we humans do things a little differently.”

  The nearness of the male kraken should’ve been terrifying, but adrenaline pumped through Randall’s veins, fueled by his anger. He’d been given no choice other than to stay in this place, and he was tired of walking on eggshells, tired of being treated like an inferior creature, of being looked at like some disgusting insect. If the kraken understood strength, he’d show it to them in the only ways he could.

  “Rhea?” asked the male holding her.

  Rhea grinned, her blue eyes bright with mirth and pride. “You heard the same words as I, Volk. The human belongs to me, and he has claimed me in turn.”

  Volk’s skin flashed red, then violet before he abruptly released her and backed away. He clenched his jaw and fisted his hands at his sides.

  Rhea moved behind Randall, settling her hands on his waist and running a tentacle up and down his leg. His heart beat faster, and his skin tingled at her touch.

  She leaned forward and pressed her cheek against his. “I have made my choice. Now, must I remind you again that these humans are under protection? I will not take kindly to you threatening them further. Nor will Dracchus, Jax, and Arkon.”

  Behind Randall, the prixxir growled. Randall shifted his gaze to see Neo, eyes locked on Ikaros, approaching slowly.

  “The prixxir is under my protection,” Randall said. “Don’t touch him.”

  Neo glared at Randall. He cast one more look at the prixxir and moved toward Kronus, but not before spitting at Rhea’s tentacles.

  Rhea flared red and lunged toward Neo, but Randall wrapped an arm around her. Her strength and momentum nearly dragged him off-balance, yet he somehow held on and brought her to a halt. He tugged her against him.

  Kronus narrowed his eyes. “I am not sure which of you is the other’s keeper, but it is pathetic either way.”

  “No one will want a slit contaminated by human seed,” Neo added.

  The male kraken turned away and exited the mess hall, casting numerous scowling glares over their shoulders as they moved.

  Rhea snarled and threw herself at the male kraken again, but Randall held her firm, gritting his teeth against the strain. His shoulder screamed in protest of the harsh treatment. He hoped she didn’t have any more strength in reserve, or he’d quickly lose the struggle.

  When the males were out of sight, she finally settled, still save for her heavy breathing. Anger pulsed from her in waves.

  Soon, her breathing steadied and her skin reverted to normal. Randall slowly eased his hold on her. He realized only then that one of his hands cupped her breast. It was small and firm, but yielded to his fingers, her nipple hard against his palm. Her scent wafted over him; crisp, salt-kissed wind and rain.

  Desire flooded Randall, and his cock hardened. It took all his willpower to keep from squeezing her breast, from stroking her nipple, from turning her around to discover its taste with his tongue.

  “It was my right to punish them,” Rhea said, though her voice held less command than usual.

  “Punish them for what? Being dickheads?” Randall shook his head, trying — and failing — to ignore the new tone in her voice, the heat of her skin, the way her body felt against his. “They’re not worth the trouble.”

  One of her tentacles ran up his leg as Ikaros chirruped behind him.

  Randall released her abruptly and stepped back, ending the dangerous contact. He ran his tongue over suddenly dry lips. “Thanks for the assist, by the way. You’re the only reason they stopped.”

  “Hmm,” was her only reply as she turned toward Ikaros. The prixxir stood near the folded tables in the corner. “Melaina, come.”

  The little girl peeked out from behind one of the tables. She smiled at Randall before emerging fully from her hiding place, bending down to scoop Ikaros into her arms.

  Rhea looked at Randall, her blue eyes bright. “We have come for the meal my male said he would provide us.”

  Her words instilled in him a strange mixture of pride and shame; under different circumstances, he wouldn’t have simply cooked the food for them, he’d have been the one to hunt it, kill it, clean and butcher it. He would have truly provided for Rhea, Melaina, and Ikaros. Despite his inability to do so, she’d stood up for him, had leapt to his defense, had chosen him. Rhea had been openly hostile with some of her own people because of him.

  That had to be more than curiosity. She actually wanted him.

  And I want her.

  But he had to prove himself worthy, first. Had to earn her.

  He would earn her.

  Chapter 5

  Rhea lazily stroked the bare skin of Randall’s ankle with a tentacle as she sat nestled between his legs. The steady thump of his heart pulsed through her back, and she leaned into it. She ran her fingers over the blanket spread on the floor beneath them and turned her attention toward her daughter.

  Melaina was asleep on the bed with an arm curled around Ikaros. The gentle breaths of youngling and prixxir were the only sounds in the quiet room, accented by the occasional soft chirrup from Ikaros.

  Today had been a good day. A wonderful day, despite the earlier encounter with Kronus and his followers. Rhea had never felt so content in all her years, save in the moment of Melaina’s birth.

  After eating the meal Randall had prepared, they’d explored the Facility, taking him to some of the rooms he hadn’t seen. Melaina had darted along the hallways with Ikaros in pursuit, filling the space with her joy and laughter.

  And I have tried to stifle that joy.

  Rhea’s own prejudice against the humans had driven her to threaten Macy the first time they met, hoping it would keep her daughter away from the woman. But in the time since, she’d developed a deep friendship with Macy, and Melaina loved spending time with the humans. Rather than being adversely affected by contact with Macy, Aymee, and Randall, Melaina had been enriched.

  “What are you thinking?” Randall asked, his breath a warm caress on the back of her neck.

  “My daughter is happy.”

  “Wasn’t she before?”

  “Not before you and Macy.” Rhea frowned. “Kraken live alone. We keep to ourselves, to our own dens, and rarely seek one another’s company. Melaina was all I had. I was al
l she had.”

  “What about her father?”

  “Vasil. A good hunter, an attractive male, and my second choice when Jax refused me.”

  His hold around her stiffened. “He’s…still around?”

  Rhea leaned forward and twisted her torso to look at him over her shoulder. His brow was creased, his jaw clenched. “Yes. Why?”

  “Doesn’t he see her?”

  “He sees her.”

  One of his eyebrows rose. “You said that strangely. I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing. You said you and Melaina were all either of you had. Does he not spend time with her often, or what?”

  Before Macy, Rhea likely wouldn’t have been able to decipher his meaning on her own. But after seeing Jax and Macy as a family, caring for their youngling together, she understood.

  “He has never spoken to her. My mating with Vasil was fleeting. He does not know that he sired Melaina,” Rhea said. She placed a hand over one of his and continued before he could speak again. “The kraken are not like the humans, Randall. Female kraken take mates at our whims, and when we have not conceived or grow bored, we choose new males. We raise female younglings throughout their lives, but we keep males only until they are old enough to join the hunters. It is rare for a youngling to know who their sire is.

  “It was not until Macy brought her human ways that we knew things could be different. Jax found a mate he did not wish to leave, a mate who did not want to leave him. And it has made Melaina happy to be around people who care for her, who enjoy spending time with her. People who love her.”

  “And what about you, Rhea?” The tips of his fingers trailed lightly over her abdomen, and his eyes seemed a darker blue than usual.