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Ordus

My bag flails against the current, the fish inside it no doubt trying to make their escape.

I only caught four for Cindi, which is not enough variety to be worthy of someone as special as my mate.

The muscle in my jaw feathers.

I should have searched for crab as well.

Many humans enjoy eating it, and I could have fed her myself to avoid her getting hurt by its hard shell.

It will take too long for me to swim far enough from my territory to hunt.

Every second away from her feels like my soul is ripping apart—even if it hurts just as much to be around her.

I was a coward for departing without a word.

I can only imagine what she thinks of me for leaving her in our barren den.

I couldn’t… It was too painful to listen to her rejection.

I needed to clear my mind, to think about how to earn her forgiveness and accept me as her mate.

When she sees I have returned from my hunt with plenty of food, maybe she’ll realize I am a capable provider.

I do not mean her any harm.

I have already shown her my strength by killing five males for her.

I… How does one woo their mate?

How do I get her to look beyond my appearance?

I wish Yannig were here so I could ask him what to do.

He was my sole source of guidance when I was young.

He helped me navigate the other kraken to make myself less…

less . My sister may not have concerned herself with such trivial matters, busy studying and ruling our people, but she would know what to do as well.

Her mate wouldn’t fear her, even though she’s the deadliest kraken to ever exist.

The thoughts and questions keep piling up, stealing my focus.

The water shifts, and I sense another creature’s presence too late.

“Your Majesty.”

Anger surges through me.

Someone dares to keep me from my mate , dares to be so close to my island.

My lips peel back with a snarl.

A low growl builds in my chest, though not loud enough to be heard above the storm.

A dead weight sinks in my stomach when I spot the kraken emerging from the shadows of a stone structure.

“Counselor Lazell.” Lightning thunders in my veins.

He is a snake amongst kraken.

His eyes dart to my dark hair floating around me.

His lips twist in distaste.

My mother killed his brother when he campaigned for my execution a few months after I was born, then later attempted to carry it out himself.

Since then, Lazell has been a thorned pest, leading the Council in his vision, keeping hatred toward me alive.

It’s a pity my mother didn’t end his entire family line.

I would have long ago if it wouldn’t have resulted in my certain death.

Our interactions are few and far between.

The Council has been operating on its own for several years, running the kingdom without my interference.

I wanted nothing to do with it, and my subjects were all too happy to take the proverbial crown from me.

Their contempt toward me worsened after Yannig died and I refused to marry the first kraken female they sacrificed to me.

Now, for the most part, they leave me alone, acting like I don’t exist, only bothering me every so often to check if I’m any closer to shackling a female to me.

“I see you are still alive,” Lazell observes in relief and disgust. The lines on his face deepen when they land on the two fresh wounds left by my mate.

He tears his stare away at my growl.

I don’t like him looking at Cindi’s gifts to me.

The kraken has aged centuries since I last saw him eight moons ago.

His cheeks are sunken, and there’s the barest green tinge to his skin—a telltale sign the Waste has reached his body.

I have yet to see a kraken without the coloring in recent years.

Lazell’s long, thin tentacles slither over rock and sand before jettisoning close to the surface to mimic the movement of my limbs.

It’s the same habit Yannig had.

He uses the webbing between his arm and ribs to keep stationary against the strong currents.

The tapered edges of his four fingers ripple.

It’s the greatest offense that his coloring is similar to my brother’s—brown and white stripes like a lionfish.

Grief hits me every time I have the misfortune of seeing Lazell, only to be quickly staunched by seething hatred.

Every word out of his mouth is a concealed threat.

I may be the king, but he is the one who holds the power over our people.

If he chooses to follow in his brother’s footsteps by rallying krakens to kill me, it will happen.

If he knew I was hiding a human in my den, the Council would be demanding Cindi’s execution.

Our kind’s continued anonymity is one of the most sacred values we hold.

The only reason I’m not dead is because I am their only hope.

Lazell and every other kraken who loathes me are losing sleep over having no choice but to place their faith in an abomination.

“It has been many months since you’ve joined our meetings.”

“It has.” Why would I want to be in the presence of those who would sooner poison me than willingly speak to me?

My attendance only serves as an opportunity for the Council to berate and pressure me into marrying a kraken.

He raises a brow. “I assume your search for a bride has not been successful, and the people will continue to starve.” My inner beast rears its head at his condescending tone.

I clamp my mouth shut to stop from bragging about finding my mate, from proving to them that I was right.

The Goddess deemed me worthy of having a fated mate.

He would insist on seeing her, and then he’d try to have her killed.

Once our bonding settles the blight over my territory, I will parade my beautiful female for all the vile krakens to see so they know I saved us with the help of my human bride.

My people will seethe, recoil from disgust, but it will bring me no greater joy than to know every time they hunt, it is because a human and their monster king permitted it.

Until then, Krokant is all that remains, an hourglass showing how much time remains before all is lost. It has been two years since I last visited.

I can only assume it has halved in size.

It’s anyone’s guess as to how much time we have left before the Curse wins.

And they come for me.

“My search for my mate remains,” I lie, balling my hands into fists to stop from tearing him apart.

He forgets my human attributes have turned me into a far better hunter and killer than any of them.

Their webbing is a weakness—one cut, and they could bleed out.

My claws are a weapon in themselves.

Thumbs are an advantage in every form.

I have yet to find a purpose for my hair.

I assume there is one, but thus far, I have not been able to find a reason.

“Perhaps it is time to look at marrying?—”

“No,” I snarl.

I would sooner sacrifice my soul to the Goddess than even think of bonding with anyone other than Cindi.

Whatever kraken bride the Council sends will either be one who is rejected and hated by society, or a strong female who will kill me the moment she has my cub in her stomach.

His eyes darken. He’s probably wishing his brother never failed at killing me.

“Time is running?—”

My tentacle shoots out and clamps around Lazell’s throat.

Bubbles explode around us, and a streak of lightning flashes above the surface to illuminate his panicked face.

“I do not appreciate repeating myself, Counselor.” My voice is low.

His own pathetically weak limbs fly out to push back against my tightening grip.

My limb spans wider than his neck, forcing him to stare up at me.

I chuckle as his eyes bulge as he uselessly grabs at my arm with his tapered fingers.

“If I say no, that means no. If I have to question your ability to listen again, I will remove your ears because, clearly, you have no use for them. Do you understand?”

His mouth gapes.

Air bubbles replace words.

“Nod if you understand.”

Lazell frantically bobs his head, a barely noticeable movement against my tentacle.

I release him, throwing him aside.

“The Council will be informed once I have taken a bride,” is all I say before going back toward my den.

Rage simmers under my skin.

I swim harder to dispel the energy and the need to tear another kraken apart—“limb from limb,” as Cindi said.

Letting my vapid Council look at—or even speak to —my mate wasn’t a thought I delved into with much detail.

It filled me with too much rage.

It has been at least a moon since I came across another kraken.

I once went half a year without interacting with anyone other than Vasz.

Most barely spare me anything more than a sideways glance.

I’m obviously a fool.

My wishful thinking had me believing my mate would want me back and I could have Cindi to myself, away from every other kraken.

The runes at the cave entrance glow silver beneath my touch.

The stone groans as it slides against rock, a low, grating sound that can only be heard if nearby.

A confusing mixture of excitement, dread, hope, and fear winds my hearts into a tight knot.

She cannot hate me forever, right?

At some point, she will soften to my efforts because…

because fate deemed it so.

Fate. Fate. Fate.

It’s never because of me.

The gills along my neck bristle, and I steel myself to weather the disgust Cindi doles my way.

I’m torn between racing through the tunnels or leaning into my trepidation by prolonging the inevitable pain.

I want to see my mate, make sure she’s okay, but I…

I don’t want her to see me.

I never thought I could feel such joy from simply touching another, yet such pain at the same time.

The glowing algae illuminates the path into the den before I can decide what I want to do.

My senses tip closer to the edge.

My nose twitches, suckers pulsing as I taste the saltwater.

Blood.

I speed up, splitting the surface, claws out, chest puffed, muscles coiled, ready to defend my mate to the very end.

The stench of her fear, anxiety, and the metallic scent of her blood permeates the air.

My stare swings around the den to locate the intruder, but there are no new scents.

A gasp pulls my attention toward the large stone near the side of the cavern.

Cindi’s frightened eyes burn into mine, and my muscles tense to strike…

Vasz.

“What…” I frown, lowering my limbs to the floor.

The creature, blissfully ignorant to my and Cindi’s panic, continues gnawing on a coconut as my mate presses herself flush against the rock, tucking her limbs close to her body beneath her dress to create more distance from Vasz as he wags his tail, happily playing with a husk.

“Tell me if he bit you,” I demand.

She shakes her head at the same time Vasz huffs, “I wish.”

Try as I might, I can’t figure out why she’s sitting beside his coconut pile or how a piece of driftwood made it from Vasz’s quarters to my mate’s lap.

My nostrils flare. I cannot see where the blood is coming from.

She doesn’t look like she’s badly wounded, but even the slightest scratch is unacceptable.

“Come here, mate,” I say.

A tentacle sneaks along the ground toward her.

“Fuck off,” she hisses, batting me away with the driftwood.

Vasz rises to his haunches to snap at my limb in warning.

“ Vasz, ” I growl.

“Fuck off.”

My brows hike up to my hairline when he places himself between me and Cindi—or his pile of coconuts.

Disregarding him, I meet Cindi’s wide stare.

There are deep bags beneath her eyes, and her hair stands up at odd ends, tangled and nest-like.

“You’re hurt.” And you need rest.

“You’re right. I am,” Vasz responds instead.

He holds his paw out, dipping his head in earnest. “Yes, you may treat my wound.”

“Fuck off, Vasz.” I test the words.

They have a nice ring to them.

He whips a wounded glare my way, snapping at me when I push him aside to get to Cindi.

She smacks my arm with the wood.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t touch her,” Vasz echoes.

“I will throw out all of your coconuts,” I threaten.

He gasps. “You wouldn’t dare betray our friendship like this.”

I lower myself to look him in the eye.

“Try me.”

“You can talk to it?” Cindi’s bewildered attention flicks between me and the walking, talking irritant.

“Can it…understand me?”

Vasz snorts in answer, and her jaw drops.

“That’s incredible.”

I swear on Yannig’s grave that Vasz preens, batting his eyes and rumbling what I could only describe as a giggle before he straightens.

“I am,” he agrees, a cocky tilt to his voice.

“Isn’t that right, Ordus?”

Goddess, give me strength.

“Leave. Now.” He snarls when I pick him up by his stomach and deposit him next to the pool.

I almost lose part of a limb to his teeth.

“ Go. ”

His harrumph is loud enough for even Cindi’s human ears to hear.

His own points to the ground as he skulks toward the water.

“If you asked, you’d know the human tried to climb out of the tunnel as I was returning with my gift, so I bit her. Just a little nip?—”

“You—” He jumps into the water and swims away before I can catch him.

“Did Vaszeline hurt you?” I ask, getting as close to Cindi as I can before she hits me with her little stick.

My stomach sinks as my mate gawks at me like I sprouted suckers on my face.

A stone lodges in my throat as I await her rejection.

“Did you just call that thing Vaseline?”

Jealousy spears through me.

Why is my Cindi asking about the creature and not me?

“Vaszeline, yes.” I force the words out even though I don’t want to be discussing any males with my mate—even if that male is part dog.

“But it’s too difficult to say when angry, so I call him Vasz,” I continue in the hopes civility will encourage her to speak more.

I like the way she sounds when her words aren’t barbed and made to cut.

“Like…” She blinks at me, then the water Vasz escaped through.

“The petroleum jelly?”

It’s my turn to gape at her.

“No,” I say carefully, so as not to offend her by sounding like I am questioning her intelligence.

“Like Vaszeline.”

It isn’t the name I would have chosen for him; rather, it’s one he chose for himself.

When I found him starved, battered, and injured, attempting to hide beneath a coconut, he was curled up around a plastic jar with the name Vaszeline on it, a name the Witch must have given him.

I believe he has the bottle in his cave somewhere, probably beneath a mountain of husks and random objects he’s chosen to bring back.

My tentacle moves against the floor, tasting my mate’s blood on the stone.

If I discover he’s harmed Cindi, I will revoke his access to the underground system of the island.

I reach my hand out for her.

“What are you—get away from me.” She stumbles back, that familiar shuttered expression crossing her eyes, souring her scent the same way it does each time she looks like this.

Her dress falls away from her legs to reveal the small cut on her shin and the blood coating her feet.

Guilt burns up my throat.

I should have brought her shoes so she can move without worry.

My siblings would never have made such a foolish mistake.

“You’re bleeding because I wasn’t here to keep you safe.” I let you down.

Her brows stitch together in a flicker of confusion she quickly wipes away.

“You give yourself too much credit. Rocks aren’t the danger here.” Cindi gives me a pointed look, as if I might be the one to hurt her.

I’ll prove her wrong.

“I’m fine.” It’s a sentiment she poorly confirms by wincing, stumbling when she attempts to stand.

I point two clawed fingers at my face.

“Do you know what these are?”

She blinks in shock, glancing around the cave like she’s uncertain I spoke.

“Uh…are you talking about your eyes?” Cindi’s words are partially slurred.

“Yes. Eyes . And they are seeing you are not fine.” I motion toward her injuries.

Sighing, I raise back up to my full height, watching the way she stiffens as I do.

It infuriates me that she thinks I would hurt her.

“It’s a little cut. I’ll live—where are you going? You can’t leave me here,” she calls when I turn, moving toward the water.

First, she wants me to get away from her.

Now, she doesn’t want to leave.

Humans are very confusing.

I try not to let the false hope get to me that she might actually want me to stay.

I have done nothing to garner her change in feelings toward me since coming back, and I doubt she has seen sense in the past couple of minutes since my return.

The muscles in my tentacles stretch, pushing me higher off the ground to reach the nook in the rock wall where I keep my meager supplies.

Cindi’s wild stare never leaves mine, but there’s something else there too.

It lightens her scent and brings some familiarity back to her face, like when I was watching her from afar.

I bite back my irritation at the spike in her fear.

I am just putting the chest on the ground?

Why does she perceive that as a threat?

I force myself to release it, fighting my inner beast’s need to hold her in my arms and reassure her she will never know a moment of pain.

But even if I think it, I know it will not be true.

Cindi will suffer as long as I live because the Goddess has cursed her to be my mate.

She will spend the rest of her days resenting my mere existence, lips curled into a perpetual sneer from being in my company.

Like she is now.

Violent, hateful, afraid.

The scent from her emotions is scattered through the air, thick enough to choke on.

My jaw aches from clenching hard.

Emotions do not matter.

I must tend to my mate’s injuries.

That is the priority.

Humans do not have the magical healing powers krakens do, and I intend to keep my mate alive at all costs.

The hinges of the chest creak as it opens to reveal the few pieces of kelp, clean cloth, and a half-empty tub of healing paste I made.

Regret churns in my stomach over putting off its restock for months.

I only ever use it when Vasz picks a fight with something a quarter of his size then cries at the smallest bit of pain.

The only thing that would make him stop talking about it is if I treat his nonexistent injury.

Now I have a mate with real wounds, and she’s acting like it’s barely more than a scratch.

They will both age me.

I’ll be a fifty-year-old kraken looking a hundred in no time.

I move to grab Cindi with my tentacle, and the ensuing whimper chills me to my very soul, a sound that echoes and vibrates like the strings of a guitar.

Every instinct tells me to attack whatever it is causing her distress, even though I know it’s all my fault.

I’m the problem.

Always the problem.

“Stop being stubborn.” My words come out sharper than I intended them.

How is one meant to react at the realization that the hope I’ve been clinging to since I was a cub is a lie?

“You’re the one who insists on touching me—” I disregard her protests and hold her in my limbs.

My other tentacles wet the cloth in the pool.

“No!”

As blissful as it is to have my Goddess-sent mate, it’s hard to find true joy in it when Cindi is acting like I’m going to suffocate her.

I am just trying to help.

I take care not to sneak my arm beneath her dress.

I need to be completely focused to tend to Cindi.

It’s what she deserves.

I can’t mess it up. Yet, my cock is hardening from having her in my arms, recalling the smell of her lust, the red blossoming on her skin.

I force myself to think of anything else: stargazer fish, rotting shark, the rubbish near the mainland.

“I am trying to clean your wounds, human.” It doesn’t come out as delicately as I would like, more of a rasp than anything else.

“I don’t need your help,” she huffs, poking me with the driftwood.

Her hair stands up at odd ends as she wriggles in my grip, foolishly thinking she stands a chance.

Not wanting her to hurt her arm further from the tiny punches she’s throwing at me, I gently wrap my tentacles around her arms, trapping them to her side.

“Ugh,” she complains.

“Take me home. I can deal with it myself.”

Must she keep repeating the same thing?

“The Goddess decided you are my mate. You are home—” Time stills as I watch her sink her teeth into my tentacle.

Not only has my mate marked me twice, but she’s…

claiming me?

The breath rushes from me, mind reeling at what might be her true intention, making me lightheaded.

I don’t think humans are aware of the significance behind such an act.

The marks a female leaves on her male is used to complete a marriage under kraken customs. For a female to bite her male is a marriage in the eyes of the Goddess, a promise that not even his death will separate her from him.

It’s one of the rituals to fulfill a bond.

My cock thickens, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it from moving toward her.

Oh, that will anger her.

I clear my throat. I’m struggling to think clearly.

I’m certain it wasn’t her intention, but my body does not understand that.

“My beloved, you can try biting me later. You’re hardening my breeding arm when you do that, and I am trying to be a good mate to you.”

“Your what—” Her eyes round at my sex sliding up her leg.

It’s much the same as my tentacle, except it has a bulbous end that swells with my seed when I’m aroused—which has never happened before this day.

“Holy fuck. What is that?” she breathes out.

“My breeding arm,” I grunt, moisture leaking under her attention.

It spills onto her leg when the smell of her lust hits the air.

I want to roar from the possessive instincts surging to life.

I’m marking her with my scent.

Every creature will know she belongs to me.

And she isn’t screaming.

Her breath comes out in a rush.

Cindi’s eyes have an awed bewilderment to them that matches the sweet notes of desire and curiosity from her.

The heat of her gaze has a low groan rumbling through my chest.

The sound snaps her out of her trance, making her go back to fighting me.

“Get that thing away from me,” she says, voice heavy with something other than disgust.

I grit my teeth.

Her words are at odds with the way she clearly desires me too.

My mate looks at me like I’m a monstrosity, and yet, this is the second time her body has reacted in such a way.

It’s likely fate forcing Cindi’s hand, her physical form responding to our connection.

She doesn’t actually want me.

My anger rises at the realization—a muted thought somewhere beneath the cloud of lust.

She suddenly stiffens and lowers her gaze in an act of submission.

I force myself to relax, wanting to shower her with my devotion to prove that though my fury runs deep, she will always be safe with me.

My breeding arm bobs against her, seed dripping onto her smooth skin.

I open my mouth without thinking.

“Yes, that’s what I was trying to say. Do you have problems with your hearing—” I clear my throat.

This is my mate , not another kraken.

My tentacles have locked up around her, refusing to release Cindi or put space between us so I can deal with the agonizing distraction.

No matter how hard I try, my repeated attempts at softening my sex or lowering it back down isn’t working.

I’m going to keep saying the wrong thing.

“Show me your feet,” I try softly.

Focusing my attention back on her injury might make my limbs compliant again.

Her jaw drops, and her earlier show of placation vanishes.

“While your cock is staring at me? I think the fuck not. You’ve got the wrong girl for that, buddy. Why are you?—”

Cock.

A shudder works down my spine from hearing that word on Cindi’s lips .

It’s a new word I’ve been hearing humans use more and more.

I never found it very appealing until my mate said it.

My bulb hardens until it’s excruciating.

I clamp my mouth shut to suppress my pained groans, stars flashing behind my eyes.

My hand wraps around the knot, imagining it’s Cindi’s instead, and I stroke, trying to lessen the tension enough for my limbs to settle so I can think clearly.

The pressure sends stars shooting behind my eyes as more of my seed drips onto my tentacle before pooling on her smooth skin.

“You’re getting your cum on me!” I grunt when her nails sink into my arms. It thickens my cock, undoing any progress I’ve made.

“Stop it. Stop it right now, kraken.”

“Ordus,” I rumble, breathing in her desire fogging the air.

“My name is Ordus.”

This was not how I wanted to spill my seed for the first time, with ashen notes of my mate’s fear tainting her lust. It feels like a waste not to coat my mate’s sex in it.

I doubt any such suggestion would be forthcoming.

“Fine,” she pants, darkened eyes still firmly on my breeding arm as the pretty red blush colors her chest. “Stop jerking off like a fucking barbarian, Ordus.”

I chuckle, cock leaking all on its own at hearing her say my name.

“Mate, you are not helping the situation.”

She gives the angry, swollen tentacle a pointed look since her arms are still trapped.

“I’m telling you to let go of your dick! How is that not helping?”

“Your voice, little mate.” I blow out a breath, shivering when I move my fist up and down, picturing it’s her wet sex wrapped around me.

“If you want me to stop, I suggest you stay quiet, or else the sound of your voice will make me harden more. I cannot make it—I did not—I’m trying—” I clear my throat and drop my head in shame.

“I apologize.”

I feel Cindi’s eyes searching me.

I’m not sure what she’s looking for or what she finds.

All she offers is a resounding, whispered, “Okay,” before falling silent.

Eyes locked on me as I massage the bulb, squeezing and shifting, grunting and swallowing groans, spraying my seed onto my tentacles and her skin, wishing to the Goddess that my mate will offer to relieve the tightness so I can do right by her.

My own body hates me, an uncontrollable monster deserving of all the scorn I’ve received my entire life.

I wish I could tell what she’s thinking.

Her scent isn’t as sour as it was the other times I’ve touched her, but she’s as rigid as a board.

When I’ve softened enough for the organ to deflate, I revert my attention back to what matters: caring for my mate’s injuries.

The unease hangs heavy between us.

I keep my head down, letting my wet hair fall to hide my embarrassment.

Ribbons of cloying tension tangle around my throat, suffocating me with her silence.

Cindi hardly moves as I carefully dab at the wounds on her feet and shin.

She allows me to dress them and wrap them with the seaweed without interference.

No words are shared.

No glances. Nothing is needed for me to know I’ve multiplied her hatred toward me.

The feeling is mutual.

“You can’t keep me here.” Her whispered words slice through the silence.

I know I shouldn’t subject her to endure my Curse, but I am a selfish, awful mate.

I do not want to keep living in solitude.

“I need food, water,” she continues.

Pointing at the pool, I say, “Water.” I pull the bag from around my body to show her the fish flopping around.

“Food.” I puff my chest out, just a little, but I know it will mean nothing.

“I hunted the fish myself.” It’s foolish to think such an admission will change anything.

She shakes her head.

“I can’t consume either of those things. I need human food.”

Her response flays me open.

My mate would lie to me?

Humans have been hunting in our seas for centuries, depriving us of our sole source of food.

They catch more than they can eat when they have game on land.

“I understand,” is all I say.

Because I do.

It is not the first time someone has refused to eat what I have caught.

One of Yannig’s friends spit it back out, claiming I poisoned it when everyone knew its only flaw was that I had touched it.

I throw the fish into the water so it can remain fresh for a while longer in case she changes her mind.

“Come,” I say, lifting her up and cradling her to my chest, even though I’m carrying the knowledge she will forever refuse to be here.

“You must be tired.”

“Ordus, please.” The rawness in those two words tears me in half.

She struggles weakly in my hold.

“Take me back.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, relying on my limbs to safely get us to the alcove where I sleep.

“No,” I grit out. “We will rest now.”

Perhaps the Goddess will pity me and open my mate’s eyes.

Our union could be good.

She might see me as a friend.

But I know it won’t happen.

It probably never will.