Page 29 of Kiss for My Kraken (Fairhaven Falls #8)

T he pumpkin-shaped fairy lights strung across the Fairhaven Falls town square glowed warmly against the twilight sky.

Nina stood at the edge of the square, momentarily overwhelmed by the spectacle before her.

Even though she’d participated in the setup, the finished result, an extravagant Halloween wonderland, was far more elaborate than she had anticipated.

Not the mass-produced plastic horrors she’d seen in chain stores, but handcrafted marvels that blurred the line between seasonal decor and genuine art.

“They really go all out, don’t they?” she whispered, squeezing Sam’s huge hand.

Towering scarecrows with intricately carved vegetable heads stood sentinel at the entrances.

Ethereal music floated from a band of musicians in the gazebo, their instruments adorned with autumn leaves and berries.

The scents of cinnamon, apples, and woodsmoke mingled in the air, creating an intoxicating perfume that seemed to embody autumn itself.

Sam stood rigidly beside her, his almost-human-passing form still impressive and unmistakably powerful.

In this shape, his tentacles were hidden, but his height, broad shoulders, and the faint blue luminescent markings visible beneath his skin marked him as unmistakably Other.

His dark hair fell in long waves around his face, and his bright blue eyes darted nervously around the crowded square.

“We don’t have to stay long,” she assured him, noticing the tension in his jaw. “Just enough to make Flora happy.”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Flora is never satisfied.”

“True.” She laughed, then added more seriously, “But really, if it gets too much?—”

“I’ll be fine,” he interrupted gently. “I want to be here. With you.”

“Then let’s dive in,” she said, tugging him forward. “I want candy apples and those little fried dough things Ben was complaining about making all week.”

He followed her lead, his steps becoming smoother as they moved deeper into the festival. She felt eyes turning towards them—not just towards Sam, as she’d feared, but towards them as a couple. The attention wasn’t hostile, merely curious, and often accompanied by friendly nods or waves.

A small group of children raced past, dressed in elaborate costumes that ranged from traditional witches and werewolves to more fantastical creations.

One girl, no more than seven or eight, stopped abruptly when she saw Sam.

She was dressed as a fairy—no, she was an actual fairy, she realized as the girl’s face lit up with delight and her wings fluttered.

“You’re the river man!” she exclaimed, pointing excitedly. “My daddy says you saved the lady from the bad humans!”

He froze, clearly unsure how to respond to such direct acknowledgment.

“That’s right,” she answered for him, smiling at the child. “He’s very brave.”

The girl beamed, revealing a missing front tooth. “Are you a sea monster? Like the ones in my book?”

“Katie!” A harried-looking fairy hurried over, placing apologetic hands on the girl’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. She’s been obsessed with sea creatures since her father told her about what happened.”

“It’s alright,” he said, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. He knelt to the girl’s level, his movements careful and deliberate. “I’m a kraken. But I live in the river, not the sea.”

Katie’s eyes widened with wonder. “Do you have tentacles? Can I see them?”

“Katie, that’s enough,” her mother admonished, looking mortified.

He chuckled, a low rumble that Nina felt more than heard. “Not right now. They’re… resting.”

“Oh.” The girl looked momentarily disappointed before brightening again. “Can you show me tomorrow? Please?”

“Katie!” Her mother looked ready to sink into the ground.

“Maybe someday,” he said diplomatically. “If your mother agrees.”

Katie nodded solemnly before racing off to rejoin her friends, leaving her flustered mother to offer another apology before hurrying after her.

She watched him as he straightened, an odd mixture of surprise and pleasure on his face. “Not the reaction you expected?” she asked, unable to keep the hint of smugness from her voice.

“Not… exactly,” he admitted, looking thoughtfully after the child.

“I told you people here would accept you. You’re not a stranger.”

“There’s a difference between not running away screaming and genuine acceptance,” he said, but his expression had softened, some of the tension leaving his powerful frame.

“Well, then, let’s see just how accepting Fairhaven Falls can be,” she challenged, pulling him towards a booth where Ben was grudgingly handing out fried dough drizzled with honey and cinnamon.

The rabbit’s long ears twitched as they approached. “Didn’t think you’d actually show,” he grunted at Sam.

He shrugged. “Flora insisted.”

Ben snorted. “Can’t argue with that.” He pushed two paper boats of fried dough across the counter. “On the house. Consider it payment for dealing with those Haven’s Grace bastards.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Sam spoke first.

“Thank you,” he said simply, accepting both the food and the gesture.

Ben gave a curt nod before turning to the next customer, but she caught the flicker of approval in his eyes. She filed it away as another small victory.

As they moved through the festival, similar encounters repeated.

George clapped Sam on the shoulder as they passed, inviting him to “stop hiding in the river and come have a proper drink sometime.” The Sheriff, keeping watch over the crowd, greeted them with a grin and told them that the Haven’s Grace van had broken the speed limit racing out of town.

Even Dr. Jackson, normally reserved to the point of aloofness, drew Sam aside for a brief conversation.

With each interaction, he seemed to stand a little taller, his movements becoming more natural, less guarded.

His eyes, while still watchful, lost their hunted look.

He even began to initiate conversations, asking Grondar about some cookies and complimenting Elara on the intricate face-painting she was doing for a line of eager children.

It was a slow, almost imperceptible thawing, but with each passing encounter, she sensed him relaxing further. By the time they made it to the bandstand, he was no longer moving like he was anticipating an attack from every direction.

“You’re practically a social butterfly,” she teased as they paused by a display of carved pumpkins, some depicting scenes so detailed they resembled fine artwork.

He gave her a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Hardly.” His expression softened as he gazed down at her. “But it’s… not as difficult as I expected.”

“I told you—you’re not a stranger here. Everyone already knew about you,” she pointed out. “You’ve been watching over this town for years. They just didn’t know your face.”

“Or my name. Or that I wasn’t just a river myth.”

She shrugged, taking a bite of her candy apple. “Details.”

The festival flowed around them, a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and experiences.

They tried their hand at bobbing for apples—which Sam, with his aquatic abilities, found ridiculously easy—and a ring toss game that even his precise control couldn’t master.

They sampled mulled cider that warmed her from the inside out and watched a troupe of young dancers perform a routine that involved impressive acrobatics and subtle magic.

As dusk deepened into true night, the festival took on an even more magical quality. The fairy lights seemed brighter, the music more enchanting. A space had been cleared in the center of the square for dancing, and couples spun to a haunting melody played on instruments she couldn’t identify.

“Would you dance with me?” The question surprised her as much as it seemed to surprise him.

“I don’t know how,” he admitted, watching the dancers with a mixture of longing and apprehension.

“Neither do I,” she confessed. “Not like this. But we could figure it out together.”

He hesitated, then nodded, a determined look on his face. They moved to the edge of the dancing area, watching for a moment to get a feel for the simple steps. The music had a swaying, almost hypnotic quality, perfect for beginners.

She took her hand in his much larger one, placing his other hand gently at her waist, then stepped closer, resting her free hand on his broad shoulder. They began to move, awkwardly at first.

“Sorry,” he murmured after stepping on her foot for the third time.

“Don’t be,” she said, smiling up at him. “This is perfect.”

And somehow, despite their fumbling steps and occasional missteps, it was. The music flowed around them, the lights glowed overhead, and his strong arms held her as if she were something infinitely precious. She felt a bubble of pure happiness expand in her chest, so intense it was almost painful.

“I never thought I could have this,” he said quietly, his blue eyes reflecting the fairy lights above them.

“Have what?”

“This.” His gaze swept over the festival, the dancers, the town, before returning to her face. “A place. People. You.”

Her throat tightened. “I know exactly what you mean.”

They weren’t dancing now; they were swaying together, barely moving, lost in each other’s eyes. The world around them seemed to recede, the music and laughter becoming a distant backdrop to the connection between them.

“Having fun?”

They turned to find Flora watching them, her sharp teeth gleaming in a delighted smile. She wore an elaborate costume that seemed to be part tree, with living vines wrapped around her body and twining through her white curls.

“It’s a wonderful festival,” she said sincerely.

“One of our best,” Flora agreed. “And made all the better by our newest couple.” She reached up to pat Sam’s arm. “You clean up quite nicely, dear. Though I do miss the tentacles—they add a certain dramatic flair.”

He made a choked sound that might have been amusement. “They’re not practical for dancing.”