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26

Cindi

Would Dad be absolutely chuffed about having an island named after him?

Shit yes.

He’d make it his opening line to every new person he met.

He’d print out a map, circle the island, then make it his phone screen background and have it framed.

Would Dad be absolutely pissed about me being a willing captive on said island?

Eh.

My gut says no.

My logic also says no.

Am I still thinking of plans on how to get the fuck out of here?

Also, no. In the early days, the best thing I could come up with was holding a gun to Ordus’ head to force him to take me back—which I was doubtful would work.

Yes, I want to go back to the mainland.

I miss it. I want a change of scenery for a bit.

But no, I don’t want to spend every waking moment scared the Gallaghers will find me.

And marry Ordus to save all krakens and probably slow down global warming in the process?

I—I don’t know.

Where does that leave me?

Well, I at least know that leaves me cradled in the arms of a monster who’s killed for me, goes the extra mile for me every day, and has abs hard as rock that contract whenever I wriggle.

So I keep wriggling, keep squeezing my legs around his waist to feel his breath hitch, his hand tightening around my thigh.

And because I’m an awful human being, I play with his hair to watch his eyelids flutter and grow heavy.

I ignore the weight of the future to focus on the sound of his shuddering breaths in the small dome around our heads.

I gnaw on my lip, barely paying attention to how the island looks underwater.

We returned my surfboard to the shack and ate dinner before Ordus asked whether I wanted the full outdoor tour.

I jumped at the opportunity.

I’m telling myself it’s out of pure curiosity, not because I want to spend more time with him, but I know the truth.

It’s addicting to see someone be so responsive to me in a way that doesn’t bring pain.

Tommy had a hair-trigger reaction, but it’s nothing like Ordus.

This man is like a puppet on my string, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

I’m enraptured by all of it.

If I really think about it, sure, there’s likely an element influenced by the alleged soulmate thing.

But it’s still more than that, right?

He doesn’t need to bring me chickens, build me a hammock and swing set, or learn how to cook human food.

I just can’t make sense of his distance, though.

He went from singing his undying love for me every two seconds to grunting and the occasional sentence here and there.

If he really, truly wanted me to marry him and end the Curse, why hasn’t he mentioned it?

Not even once?

Why he isn’t trying harder for me to marry him so his people don’t starve to death?

My gut tells me he genuinely is giving me the choice, simply happy to have someone else on the island…

which doesn’t sit right with me.

His people are suffering because of something I could supposedly prevent.

I don’t know what to make of it.

We dip suddenly, swerving to the left.

I yelp and accidentally grab a fistful of his hair.

His eyes widen in surprise, and a low chuckle sends a questionable thrill down my spine.

He does it again, and I gasp, clutching him harder.

We can’t be steady for more than eight seconds before he takes us for another dip, then twirls us through the water like a torpedo.

My stomach flips. It isn’t wholly unpleasant.

For a moment, it’s like I’m fourteen again, with my friends, screaming with our arms up in the air, going this way and that on the roller coaster.

That same giddy feeling has me shrieking when Ordus dives straight down toward the sea floor before straightening out at the very last second.

A smile splits across my face as he keeps doing it until unexpected laughter peels right out of me.

I only just catch his own smile for a second before he’s swirling us again.

My fist is still in his hair, and I should feel bad and worry about my supplies—scold him for changing the subject.

It’s the same freeing sensation of being carried through a wave, never knowing if you’re going to crash or make it to the other side in one piece.

It’s exhilarating and invigorating and saddening because I remember a time when laughing like this was a daily occurrence.

My stomach lurches unhappily, and I tap his back in silent command to cut it out before I throw up the crab I had for dinner.

He straightens immediately without question, swimming along like nothing happened.

The temperature of the water drops as we descend closer to the ocean floor.

The familiar cave entrance looms ahead.

I survey the water. It feels so wrong for there to be no other life around—not even any moss on the stone, only the plants higher up the cliffside that are untouched by water.

Will the island be destroyed if the Curse isn’t ended?

I blurt out my question before I chicken out and keep fretting over it.

“What happens if you don’t…” Mate?

Bond? Shackle me to you?

“Marry?”

Ordus’ face tightens.

“My territory will be completely uninhabitable, and krakens will be forced to leave or die.”

That’s what he said last time, but it still doesn’t add up.

“Why don’t they just—I know I sound like a dick—but why don’t they just leave, then? If there’s no food here, then why stay?” Why aren’t you pressuring me to marry you?

My stomach swoops when we loop around a protruding rock.

Ordus mutters the word to open the entrance to the cave, and the sigils glow blue, groaning as the rock rolls aside.

His voice rumbles in the small space as we become engulfed by darkness.

The lack of echo and reverberation plays tricks on my mind.

“Because this land belongs to our kind. To leave it is to risk death from trespassing into another creature’s region, or from natural causes from incompatible climate. Many have already left.”

A shiver slides down my back from the plummeting temperature.

“Shit, it’s cold.” I curl around Ordus to steal his body heat, hoping and praying he doesn’t feel my nipples poking through my bikini.

One arm curves beneath my shoulder and engulfs my waist and half my back to cradle my head against his chest, covering as much of my exposed skin as he can.

The other hand travels up my thigh, catching on my bottoms. My breath labors.

Liquid heat curls through my core.

He settles at the base of my spine, right above my ass, fingers dangerously close to dipping beneath the fabric.

Ordus presses the lower half of my body to his hard stomach.

Sparks detonate behind my eyes from the sudden pressure against my sensitive flesh.

The complete lack of orgasms I’ve had since coming to this island is catching up with me and rewiring my brain chemistry.

I don’t think he’s aware of what he’s doing.

There’s nothing that suggests any ulterior motive other than to warm me up.

He’s doing what he set out to achieve, because my internal temperature has soared to an uncomfortable boil filling my veins with fire.

I clear my throat. “Did they survive?” I rasp.

“I do not know. The odds are not in their favor.” His voice is far too hoarse for this topic of conversation.

I wish I could see his expression in the dark.

“So unless you marry, krakens will be extinct?” I confirm.

Ordus’ hand slips lower, practically cupping my backside.

Only this time, I choke.

His fingers brush the hem that leads down to my heat that’s rubbing against Ordus every time he moves, scrambling my brain.

He needs to move his hand.

Right now. I need to move it for him.

It’s not appropriate.

Wrong.

It’s too hot in this tunnel.

Cuddling is fine.

This?

This is not fine. But I can’t bring myself to move.

What are we talking about?

Right. The Curse. Marriage.

Our collective existential crisis.

He grunts. It’s strained.

I hear him take a deep breath.

“They will be endangered, forever skating the line of extinction, yes.”

Is he wound up because of the topic, or because of—his finger dips beneath my bikini as he drags me up his chest, adding friction to the neediest part of me.

I clamp my mouth shut to stop any sounds from coming out.

His hand returns to the base of my spine.

It was an innocent gesture to readjust his hold on me.

Gentlemanly. I’m the pervert here for getting all hot and bothered by it.

Get it together. Focus.

Ignore it. Ignore him.

This is a serious, important conversation.

And —I take a deep breath.

Okay. Concentrate.

“Will you leave, then?”

“Where you go, I follow.” His deep tenor wraps around my aching body.

I shudder against him.

He means it. To the deepest recesses of my soul, I know he means it.

He says it with intent, like he’s trying to tell me something I’m not getting.

“The area surrounding the mainland belongs to the humans and is the safest place for us to hunt to avoid encountering scavengers or creatures far deadlier,” he explains.

Ordus shakes his head just as the first batch of glowing algae illuminates his face before plunging us back into darkness.

“But hunting near the mainland comes at the risk of discovery, which is a sure death as well. We are quickly running out of krakens strong enough to make the journey, and they are needing to swim further and further out.”

That sobers me enough to push my libido to the background.

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” I sigh, frowning from the painful tingles going down my arm.

Fuck, not again.

I hang my arm limp at my side, letting Ordus take the brunt of the effort to keep me against him.

I maneuver my sore arm beneath his to rest my hand under the scar along his ribs.

Ordus makes a sound of agreement.

“All soldiers have been assigned to bring game back from the mainland to feed the people, but even then, the water alone has become unsafe. Only the strongest kraken will survive.”

“Is there no other way to end the Curse?” I ask hopefully.

I feel his head shake.

“The Witch is dead. The elders suspect there may be an anchor of some kind that enables the Curse to continue without its caster, likely two because of the severity of the Curse.”

I rake my teeth against my bottom lip as another wave of light hits us.

My only knowledge about magic comes from TV and fiction books.

I have no authority or experience to be throwing out ideas, but I might as well try.

“You have sigils on your doors. That’s a witchy thing, isn’t it? Don’t you use magic to shift as well? Shouldn’t your people have more of an idea?”

To his credit, he pauses to think about it.

“My mother was once friends with a witch. Her strength was incomparable to the one who cursed us. Beyond basic healing pastes and protection spells, we knew very little. The krakens of the royal line’s ability to shift is inherent because we are the only ones with any power. Our magic is different. It is not an outward manifestation.”

If an entire population of krakens can’t come up with a loophole around the Curse, where do I get off thinking I, a human woman who didn’t know mythical creatures existed until about a month ago, will think of something?

Which means there really is only one solution.

“And…” I swallow, pulse hammering.

The algae is becoming more frequent, so I can’t hide in the dark.

“You mentioned marrying to end the Curse. You’ve also spoken about bonding. Is there…a difference?”

“The term is used interchangeably.” His eyes drop down to me, rendering me frozen in his arms as another flash of light catches the longing etched into every crease in his face.

“I will not force you to marry me, Cindi. We move at your pace, even if there is no pace at all.”

I frown up at him.

“Aren’t you tired of me?” I say, breath catching when his hand glides back down to my ass to keep me stable as we take a sharp bend.

Like everything else, it’s an innocent gesture that skyrockets my heart rate.

His fingers are mere inches from my core, and I’m frightened to think how wet he’d find me if we weren’t in the water.

One bump, one turn, a single swoop, and he’d be sliding over my slit like his thick appendages have done before.

Images flash in my mind of all the times his tentacles have come dangerously close to sliding over my heat.

I shiver. Ordus squeezes my flesh to push me up his vibrating chest, rubbing my sensitive nipples and sex over his hard abs.

It’s pure sin. My nails dig into his shoulders.

I want to arch my back so fucking bad to add more pressure somewhere.

Anywhere. I just…

I want him to make me feel good.

Which is wrong, bad, and shouldn’t happen for so many reasons, but fuck, can’t I have something nice for once in my life?

Whether it’s an accident or his gentlemanly facade drops, he gropes my ass, grabbing at the flesh so it pulls at my folds.

My lips fall into an O.

My eyes round when his hand threaded into my hair uses the strands as leverage to force me to hold his suffocating gaze.

“You fascinate me.” His breath skates across my tingling skin.

“Everything about you fascinates me.” He carefully kneads my backside, getting closer and closer to the forbidden area each time.

“The mark behind your ear. Your voice. How you tap your right thumb against your thigh when you’re thinking. Scrunching your nose before eating crab. The stretch you do when you first wake up. Sometimes, when you’re working, you make these small humming sounds. It’s rare, but it always brings a smile to my face.”

I flush red against the chilled water.

He noticed all that?

“This is the most you’ve spoken to me in weeks.” Outside of the treasure room.

He stops massaging me and looks away, pretending to focus on navigating the tunnel, even though the pool is right above us.

“It’s for the best.”

I take a deep breath just before the bubble bursts and saltwater floods around us.

It’s not a full second before we’re breaking the surface into the cave that’s quickly becoming my own safe space—like the swinging chair hanging from the ceiling, handmade by Ordus using the trees around the island.

He set it up next to the shelf filled with books he smuggled for me from the mainland so I can stay inside and read if the weather is bad, I’m too tired, or to wind down before bed.

Then there’s the thick mats made from layers of woven bamboo to protect my feet from the unforgiving stone, and the little bed of dirt, moss, and coconut husks I made for Vasz.

I’ve made this entire island my own faster than I made the cabin my home back in Bali.

It took six months before I even dared buy new clothes or used a dining chair that wasn’t a couple bucks and made from plastic.

Yet here I am, changing this place into my vision, away from pirates and the Gallaghers, from the claws of crippling paranoia and the brink of hysteria.

My greatest threats on this island are the sharp rocks, bats that leave me alone as long as I return the favor, Vasz’s teeth, and the organ between my ribs that wants too much of Ordus’ attention.

Companionship. To beat without feeling the twinge of the shards encasing it.

My attention fixes on the monster before me, carrying me like I’m his greatest treasure.

Lips thin and wary. Jaw tight and clenched.

Voice brittle. “I can’t say the wrong things if I never speak.”

The water quietly laps against us as I draw my hand over his hair and shoulders, down to the center of his chest where the purrs have stopped.

It’s a sound I’ve come to long for, soft rumblings I hear as sleep lulls me into its clutches every night.

“You should talk more anyway,” I whisper.

“You have a nice voice.”

A small smile tugs at my lips when the soft vibrations stir beneath my fingertips, unraveling every knot in my muscles.

Ordus’ eyes slowly travel down to my hand.

He stills beneath me, so stiff, he could shatter.

My eyes round, and every cell in my body screams in panic.

Something’s wrong.

I frantically follow his line of sight to my breast, and the internal screaming turns deafening.

My bikini shifted during the swim; now Ordus has a first-row seat to my exposed nipple.

Mortification stains my body in bright splotches of red.

Before I can scramble to cover myself and collect the last vestiges of my dignity, a tentacle loops around my thigh, and the pointed tip brushes over my center.

I suck in a sharp breath, looking up at Ordus.

Whatever pain painted him earlier has morphed into pure, unbridled desire.

He pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, the tip of his claw curving over my lip.

“The Goddess made you perfect, little mate.”

My eyelids flutter at the heat in his voice.

It’s deeper than I’ve ever heard it before, a fraying thread about to snap.

Oxygen whooshes from my lungs at the press of a pointed edge along the inner seams of my bikini bottoms before moving across my ass to hold me up.

A growl thunders beneath his purr.

There’s an unfamiliar comfort in knowing I could say a single word, and this will all end.

He’ll let me go, maybe even fix my top for me, turn his head to give me privacy.

The tension would evaporate.

He hasn’t pushed me to marry him because it’s my decision.

He hasn’t touched me in inappropriate ways or said anything that makes my skin crawl because he won’t do anything unless I ask for it.

I shift my hips against his tentacle, grinding along the hard limb.

Ordus’ nostrils flare, and his lips peel back to reveal his sharp teeth, his expression twisted with rage and desperation.

I’m not scared. On the contrary—I want to wrap my arms around him, trace his harsh jaw, and hang on every word he’s willing to give me.

“Cindi,” he warns.

A bulb drags along my inner thigh.

It pauses over my sex.

Oh. He’s just as affected as I am.

“You should talk more often,” I whisper, lips moving against his clawed thumb that could rip me to shreds.

I poke my tongue out, swiping across the harsh pad to taste the saltwater clinging to his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasps.

His fingers twitch against my ass, eyes never once straying back to my exposed chest.

Control.

He’s giving me every ounce of it in this moment.

This is for me, not him.

Everything he does is for me.

Goosebumps erupt over my flesh as he draws us out of the water, settling me against his thick limbs on the side of the pool.

He towers over me, his hand still inches away from finding out it’s not the water making me wet.

His tentacle tightens around my leg, and warm liquid spills onto the delicate skin of my inner thigh.

The muscles in my lower stomach spasm, and he takes a deep breath.

The blacks of his eyes devour the blue, more beast than man.

And the monster is still giving me the reins.

I want to take them.

“It…aches.” I almost don’t recognize myself.

Ordus’ purr jumps in volume.

“Tell me where it hurts.” He trails his finger along my cheek, bending down to brush his lips up my jaw to the shell of my ear.

“Let me fix it, mate .”

My breaths come out in short bursts.

My free leg falls to the side, knee resting on his waiting tentacle.

I arch my back, pushing my ass into his hand before grinding myself against the V of his abs.

He snarls, a sound so animalistic, my heart rate leaps.

Without warning, my bikini bottom is reduced to shreds, a pile of ribbons on the ground, swollen flesh exposed to him.

I’m distantly aware of the sirens blaring in my head, warning bells urging me to step on the brakes, to stop us from crossing a line I can’t uncross.

I know what this would mean for me.

What would it translate to for the monster who thinks I’m his soulmate?

Whatever the answer is, the question evaporates from my mind as soon as a tentacle sinks into me.

A moan tears from my throat at the same time as he releases a growl that vibrates through my bones.

It’s a gentle move, cautious, like he’s holding himself back and doesn’t want to hurt me.

I clamp around him. Somewhere in me, there’s a long rope with dents and tangles.

In a single second, it’s obliterated.

His sucker pulses around my clit, and there’s nothing in this universe that exists except his tentacle in my pussy.

Ordus draws back before pushing back inside me, over and over, deeper each time.

I look down as warm liquid drips from his bulbed appendage onto my core and trickles around his thrusting tentacle.

He’s fucking his cum into me.

“You stretch so pretty for me, little mate.” He’s all monster.

There’s no hint of the man behind that voice.

“Is this where you’re hurting?”

I grunt.

Choke. Whimper. I couldn’t speak even if there was a gun to my head.

He might have given me power over him, but in this moment, I’m completely and utterly powerless to my own whims.

“Perfect.” Ordus sucks my clit harder, and I thrash against him, clawing at his arms, bucking against his limbs.

It’s pure ecstasy.

I’m not sure what happens, but my breasts fall victim to the cool cavern air and my top is on the ground right before a long, pointed tongue laves at the hard bud.

“My sweet mate,” he purrs.

I scream when his sharp teeth prick my nipple, and he does it again and again, alternating between licking and threatening me with his teeth.

Nothing about what he’s doing is rough.

There isn’t an ounce of hurt or an inkling of incoming pain.

Still, he isn’t treating me like I’m breakable.

He’s looking at me like I’m the Goddess he spends his life praying to, and he’s on his knees appeasing me, worshipping my flesh and tasting me like I’m his first and last meal.

I lose all sense of composure when a sucker wraps around me and—dear fucking God .

Ordus’ pleased chuckle splashes my desire with fury that fizzles away when his tentacle eases into me, stretching me out until it stings.

“Is this what you wanted to hear? My voice?” He pulls out, keeping his tentacle an inch away from my entrance.

My muscles spasm angrily at the loss.

“It’s only fair I hear yours too.”

“Ordus.” It’s my turn to sound animalistic.

“That’s it, little human. Louder.”

He smiles a full, sadistic smile, plunging back into me in a single swoop.

I scream, fisting his hair, then snarling in frustration when he deprives me of his appendage.

“Again,” he demands.

He thrusts back into me, tentacles curling around my limbs to keep me in place, like he might die if I left.

I cry out, arching my back to take more of him.

I’m not quite sure what goes through my head at that moment, but I slam my lips against his, and everything stops.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t dare breathe.

Shame washes over me.

I misread this.

Kissing is too much.

I shouldn’t have. This probably means something else to him, and I?—

Ordus grabs the base of my neck and kisses me back as if his life depends on it.

It’s unpracticed and unsure, but he follows my lead, moving with me.

He tests out each nibble the way I do, sliding against my lips, tasting each other as he resumes thrusting into me and sucking my clit.

“Do you want to leave?” he breathes, expression tight.

“Do you want to go back to the mainland, Cindi?”

His question hits me with a wave of clarity.

It disperses the lusty haze and brings me back to reality.

Do I want to leave this safe haven and never return?

Is he really asking me that?

Is it a real offer?

My answer should be a confident, immediate yes, but I hesitate.

The few-second delay it takes me to nod my head speaks volumes.

That I never use my voice is even louder.

I need to go back. Have to.

There’s no other option.

I’m meant to agree. I don’t belong here, and I don’t want to stay here for the rest of my life.

I’m feeling the oncoming of stir-craziness after a month.

What will I be like in a couple more weeks?

The lines of Ordus’ face soften at my hesitance.

He exhales like a boulder has just been lifted from his shoulder, and in its place, an emotion cripples me: hope.

For the first time in weeks, he looks truly hopeful .

Guilt and dread suffocate me, but I can’t do a damn thing about it when he eases out of me, notching another tentacle at my entrance.

My pulse roars. “What?—”

“Every tentacle I fit in your sex is another hour I will allow you to spend on the mainland.”

Wait.

Does he really?—

“One.” He slides a single tentacle in.

Frustration claws at me, question forgotten.

I need more. Deeper.

God— fuck . It’s not enough.

He needs to move.

My mouth falls open on a moan when another appendage slides into me.

The stretch is almost too much.

He slips in slowly to allow me to adjust to the mind-altering fullness.

My pussy stretches around him, taking sucker after sucker.

I swear, I can feel him in the back of my throat.

“Two,” he rasps, eyes heavy and glazed over.

Ordus is breathing harder than I am.

His breeding arm is off to the side somewhere, but I can still feel his cum dripping down the inside of my thighs.

Two. Two hours on the mainland.

I could accomplish so much with two hours.

I can’t think of what right now, but I’m certain I can do something.

A string of curses flies past my lips when he pumps into me, slowly, so agonizingly slowly.

His suckers catch on my clit with each pass, pulsing and warming, making me relaxed and wilder at the same time.

My vision darkens as bright spurts of white flash behind my eyes.

I don’t know what’s up or down, left or right.

I can barely breathe with how—I can’t even describe it.

Out of this world. Extraordinary.

I’m at the gates of both heaven and hell, and I have no idea whether I’m going to ascend or perish.

My climax hits me, and I don’t know how I react.

I think I scream Ordus’ name.

I think I slap him. His arms might be bleeding from my nails.

But he doesn’t let up.

He keeps going, and I think he might kill me from it.

Nothing coming out of my mouth is coherent, not a single thought comprehensible.

The only thing I manage to register beyond the pure pleasure in my core is his guttural, “ Three .”

I’m screaming, sobbing, moaning until I can’t make a sound because I’ve become blackout delirious.

When did he put a third one in?

Tears spring from my eyes.

I’m trembling. Bucking.

Crying for him to stop and keep going.

Another orgasm is coming, I can feel it.

It’s going to take me out.

Ordus leans down, his long, blue tongue sliding over my cheek to capture my tears.

His purrs grow impossibly loud.

“Is that all you can take, mate? Three?” His eyes shine with curiosity.

“How badly do you want to go to the mainland?” He tips his head to the side, studying me as another tentacle wraps around my leg, up to my core.

“A fourth?”

I shake my head.

“I can’t—I—It won’t fit.”

The pointed tip prods at my back entrance.

“Hmm,” he muses, pushing in slowly.

“Here?”

No.

No, no.

Fuck.

I don’t think I can hold it back.

My climax is chasing me, coming stronger than ever before.

I’m falling, and I know eight limbs will catch me.

I’m so far from being in control right now, but at the same time, I have it in my grasp.

I want this. I want to orgasm around this monster’s tentacle, and I want to scream because I fucking deserve it.

I walked through hell.

I have the burns to prove it.

I want to feel free from everything for one fucking minute.

I want to let go.

Just this once.

Because one more second won’t hurt.

There’s a silver lining in all of this, and I want to cover myself in it.

When my climax hits me, I let it knock me off my feet and descend into the dark depths.

Fireworks explode around me, erupting blues and browns and golds.

And when I finally settle onto the ground, it’s in Ordus’ arms, wrapped up in his safe embrace, my head against his chest, engulfed by his sea salt scent and rhythmic purr that grows louder at my whimper.

The emptiness that follows is so profound, I almost ask him to put his tentacle back inside me.

“It aches,” I mewl.

He presses his lips to the top of my head before carrying me to our bed.

“I will take care of you.”