Page 28 of Kiss for My Kraken (Fairhaven Falls #8)

F or a long moment, no one moved. Then Nina turned, wrapping her arms around one of Sam’s tentacles in a gesture so natural, so accepting, that his chest ached.

“Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at him with eyes that held no fear, only love.

He gently curled a tentacle around her waist, drawing her closer. “I will always protect you,” he said quietly. “Always.”

Eric approached cautiously, his expression a mixture of awe and concern. “We’ll keep watch tonight,” he told them. “Make sure they really leave town. But I think it’s safe to say your secret is out…”

He sighed, letting his tentacles relax. “So be it. It was bound to happen eventually.”

Eric nodded, his gaze traveling from Sam to Nina and back. “You two okay?”

“More than okay,” she answered, her hand stroking one of his tentacles. “Better than we’ve ever been.”

“Good.” Eric’s expression softened into a smile. “That’s all any of us could ask for.”

“I guess we won’t need to dispose of any bodies,” Flora said, materializing next to him. He bit back a groan when he saw she was wearing her Let’s Get Kraken outfit again.

“You sound disappointed,” Eric said dryly.

Flora shrugged. “Gladys has a new spell we wanted to try out. But I suppose all’s well that ends well.”

She smiled up at him and he narrowed his eyes.

“You knew this would happen,” he accused, though there was no real heat in his words. Flora had always possessed an uncanny awareness of Fairhaven Falls’ secrets.

“Of course I knew, dearie.” She winked at him, her expression almost maternal despite her elfin stature. “I know all the lost souls who find their way to our little haven. I just had to find the right soul to match with yours.”

“You set up the whole thing, didn’t you?” Ben demanded. “The fishing shack, the proximity to Sam’s island? Did you throw her in the water too?”

Flora actually looked momentarily abashed. “I didn’t know she couldn’t swim.”

“You scheming little—” Ben began, but there was a note of reluctant admiration in his voice.

“Visionary,” Flora corrected primly. “The word you’re looking for is ‘visionary.’”

“Just keep your visions away from me,” the rabbit muttered, and Flora gave him that knowing smile that set everyone’s teeth on edge.

“I have other priorities,” she said briskly. “Right now, anyway.”

She skipped off down the river path, and Ben groaned. “Fuck. I might have to leave town. At least she’d got her claws in someone else right now.”

He caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye and looked over to see an appalled look cross Jekyll’s face before his usual mask slipped back into place. That was… interesting.

Eric watched her go, shaking his head slowly. “I swear, that female is half matchmaker, half chaos incarnate.”

Nina laughed—a bright, clear sound that seemed to cut through the tension of the night.

“It worked out all right in the end,” she said, leaning into his side. Her warmth against him felt like an anchor, grounding him in this new reality where he stood exposed but unrejected. He curled a tentacle gently around her waist.

“More than all right.”

Ben cleared his throat gruffly. “Not to interrupt this touching moment, but we should probably deal with the immediate issues.” He gestured at the damaged shack. “This place isn’t habitable tonight.”

“I’ll rebuild it,” he said firmly. “Better than before.”

“You know carpentry?” Ben asked skeptically, ears twitching.

“Yes.” His island cabin was a testament to his skill.

“You’ll be building it for someone else,” Nina said quietly. “I’ll be living on the island now.”

“Well, that settles that,” Aidan said. “We should let you two get some rest. It’s been quite a night. We can start salvaging what we can from the shack tomorrow.”

“I’ll help,” he offered. It was the least he could do.

Ben shook his head. “The Halloween Festival is tomorrow. That is—are you still coming?”

He felt a flicker of panic at the thought of exposing himself to the stares and questions of the entire town, but he’d promised Nina…

“I’ll be there,” he said quietly.

“You will?” she asked, searching his face. “It’s not necessary.”

He nodded, more certain with each passing moment. “No more hiding,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “Not anymore.”

The others began to move away, calling their goodnights. Their easy acceptance—the casual way they had incorporated his existence into their worldview and future plans—left him feeling strangely light, almost dizzy with relief.

Nina went to check on Ozzie and Flora suddenly popped up at his elbow again.

“You know,” she said conversationally, “I’ve lived in Fairhaven Falls for a very long time. Seen all sorts come and go. But it’s the ones who think they don’t belong who always find the deepest roots here.”

“I never thought I could belong anywhere,” he admitted. “Not like this.”

Flora smiled, her pointed teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

“That’s the magic of this place. It gives us what we need, not what we think we want.

” She glanced meaningfully at Nina, who was cuddling Ozzie in her arms. “Sometimes it’s a home.

Sometimes it’s a purpose.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Sometimes it’s a stubborn, brave little human who turns your world upside down. ”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his mouth. “She did that.”

“And you’re better for it,” Flora said, not a question but a statement of fact. “We all are.” She reached up—so tiny compared to his massive body—and patted his tentacle affectionately. “Welcome home, River King. It’s about time.”

With that, she turned and followed the others, her diminutive form soon swallowed by the darkness of the path. He watched her go, her words echoing in his mind.

Welcome home.

Two simple words that encompassed everything he had yearned for. Home wasn’t just his island anymore. Home was here, in Fairhaven Falls. Home was the acceptance in Aidan’s easy grin and Ben’s gruff nod. Home was the kinship in Jekyll’s eyes and the affection in Flora’s knowing wink.

And most of all, home was Nina.

She came back to join him, Ozzie trotting at her heels. The dog had accepted Sam’s true form with typical canine pragmatism—a few curious sniffs, a tentative lick of a tentacle, and then complete acceptance.

“Ready to go?” she asked, her voice soft with exhaustion but her eyes warm.

He nodded, guiding her towards their small rowboat. Fortunately, it had survived the destruction of the dock. He helped her in, then whistled softly for Ozzie, who jumped aboard eagerly.

As he slipped into the water next to it, he returned to his usual form, gliding easily through the water.

He looked back thoughtfully at the damaged shack as they left the river bank behind.

It should have felt like destruction—like an ending.

Instead, it felt like clearing ground for something new to grow.

The night was quiet around them as they glided across the water, the only sounds the gentle splash of water and Ozzie’s contented panting. He put a tentacle on the side of the boat and Nina put her over it. The trust in that simple gesture still amazed him.

“Are you really okay with going to the Halloween Festival?” she asked after a while, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

He considered the question carefully, swimming with slow, measured strokes. The old fear still lurked at the edges of his mind—the ingrained caution of a creature who had survived by remaining unseen. But tonight had changed something fundamental within him.

“I want to,” he said finally. “For a long time, hiding felt… necessary. For survival.” He looked up at her, this extraordinary human who had changed everything. “But now it feels more like a barrier. Between me and the town. Between me and you.”

Moonlight silvered her features as she smiled at him. “I love you in any form,” she said simply. “Hidden or revealed.”

“I know,” he said, and the certainty of that knowledge was still a wonder to him. “That’s why I can do this. Because you showed me it was possible.”

They fell silent again as the island loomed ahead, its familiar silhouette a welcome sight after the tumult of the evening. He guided the boat to his small dock and helped Nina ashore. Ozzie bounded ahead, already exploring with enthusiastic sniffs and wagging tail.

He watched the dog’s antics with amusement, but his attention quickly returned to Nina.

She stood on the dock, swaying slightly with exhaustion, her face pale in the moonlight.

The night’s events had taken their toll on her.

While he had been processing his unexpected acceptance, she had been dealing with the trauma of confronting her past.

He lifted her gently into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She made a small sound of surprise but didn’t protest, relaxing into his embrace instead and resting her head against his shoulder.

“You’re tired,” he said, carrying her towards his cabin—their cabin now. “You need to rest, little minnow. Everything else can wait until morning.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, already half-asleep. “Safe with you.”

Those three words almost made him stagger. Safe with you. After a lifetime of being feared, of being seen as a danger, hearing her declare her absolute trust in his protection was a gift beyond measure.

He carried her into the cabin and laid her gently on the bed platform.

She curled instinctively into the soft blankets, a small smile playing on her lips even in near-sleep.

Ozzie, who had followed them inside, hopped up beside her, circling three times before settling at her feet with a contented sigh.

He watched them both, these two beings who had upended his solitary existence in the most unexpected and wonderful ways. His heart felt full to bursting with emotions he had never expected to experience—not just love, but belonging. Not just protection, but partnership.

For so long, he had defined himself by his differences, by the aspects of his nature that set him apart from others. He had accepted isolation as the price of his existence, resigning himself to watching life from the shadows of the river.

Nina had changed all that. She had seen him—truly seen him, in all his alienness—and found not a monster, but a match. And through her eyes, others now saw him too. Not as a threat or an aberration, but as a member of their community. As someone who belonged.

He moved to the large window that overlooked the river, gazing out at the moonlit water that had been his sanctuary for so long. The river would always be a part of him, a fundamental aspect of his nature, but it no longer needed to be his boundary—the dividing line between himself and the world.

Behind him, Nina murmured something in her sleep, a soft, contented sound that drew his attention back to her. In the silvery moonlight filtering through the window, she looked almost ethereal, yet she was undeniably real.

Mine .

He went to join her, gently curling his tentacles around her to avoid disturbing her rest. Tomorrow would come with its own demands and decisions.

But tonight, in the quiet aftermath of revelation, he allowed himself to simply exist in this new reality—one where he was known, accepted, and loved.

Not despite what he was, but because of it.

The fear and isolation that had defined him for so long began to recede, like river mist burned away by morning sun. In their place grew something new and fragile and infinitely precious: a sense of belonging. A sense of home.

Not just to a place, though his island would always be a sanctuary, but to a community.

To Fairhaven Falls, with its werewolf rangers and rabbit tavern keepers, its meddling matchmakers and curious doctors.

A place where differences weren’t just tolerated but celebrated, where the extraordinary was, paradoxically, ordinary.

He closed his eyes, listening to the gentle rhythm of Nina’s breathing, the occasional soft snore from Ozzie, the familiar lapping of the river against the shore.

Welcome home, River King.

Flora’s words echoed in his mind as sleep finally began to claim him. And for the first time, he truly believed them.

He was home.