Filed To Story: The Saltwater Curse Book PDF Free
My claws dig into my palms. There are too many around. I’ve seen more in a day than I have in months. It has been years since non-Council members have dared speak to me. Still, my nerves refuse to settle.
I am larger than other krakens, stronger. I hold value. They would not dare attack me, but words can still hold venom.
A growl erupts in my chest when Lazell comes into view. He’s like an urchin, vermin that needs to be killed—exactly as he thinks of me. I swim harder, hoping he doesn’t try to engage in conversation that never ends well for one of us.
“Ordus,” he calls.
I’d rather be attacked by a swarm of jellyfish than endure a minute with him, but alas, I must.
“King Ordus,” I correct, slowing to a stop. It sounds like a joke, even to my ears.
Lazell adapts to the movement of my tentacles the closer he gets until it is like looking at my own reflection. Strong and sure. It doesn’t suit him. Or me.
His eyes are sunken, cheeks more prominent. His skin has taken a pale, sickly hue. He looks nothing like the kraken who smiled as I was hooked and dragged away.
A warning sound vibrates in my chest when he looks me straight in the eye and sizes me up like he wants to finish what his brother couldn’t do. As if he senses my thoughts, his lip twitches when he looks at the scar on my ribs before averting his gaze in faux respect.
“Out with it,” I snap. The sooner I visit the healer, the sooner I can return to Cindi. I want to make her dinner again.
I want her to acknowledge my existence again.
Lazell’s lips peel back for a split second before he rights himself, but not soon enough. I puff my chest out in a show of intimidation. He bows his head, palms out as a sign of submission.
“Speak.”
The column of his throat bobs. His mantle enlarges in irritation before he boldly looks me in the eyes again. “One of our sentries on the border reported seeing you haul a boat to your island twice in the past month.”
I dislike the insinuation he has eyes on me. My inner beast slams against the walls, begging to rip the male to shreds for posing as a threat to my mate. It’s an ugly, bloody feeling that raises my internal temperature to the point of boiling.
I know which two occasions he speaks of. I sensed the kraken female nearby but chose to forge ahead on my path. I saw no point in diverting my route to avoid her detection when bringing loot from the mainland is an activity I’ve been doing since my mother lived.
Lazell tilts his chin up to look down his nose at me. His brazen disregard for authority has always enraged me, but he’s becoming far too emboldened for my liking. He mustn’t think he has anything to lose—he likely doesn’t anymore. “I believe you understand the risks posed by such?—“
My claws dig into my palm. Blue blood twines in the murky water. “I did not ask for your recount of a report.”
His nostrils flare before his attention drops down to my fist. I scowl when he flexes his four fingers. “Your Majesty, I only raise it as a concern for our people. Adding rubbish to decorate your island is not worth jeopardizing kraken-kind. If a human were to?—“
My inner beast tears at the walls. I lurch forward. “The only one who saw is a kraken who should not be spying on their king. Should it happen again, I may find it is a punishable offense.”
The wrinkles around his eyes deepen as he brazenly glares at me. “We are losing more viable land every passing day. As our king, it is your duty to ensure the survival of your people. Your continued gallivanting amongst humans is killing your people. Females. Cubs. They either leave or perish. The sooner you take a bride?—“
I’ve heard enough.
“I will not be lectured about duty by a pest who shares blood with that demon who tried to kill a child. If I ever wish to seek your counsel, I will.” My lips peel back, my sharpened teeth on display. “Now leave before I decide to act upon your insolence.”
He holds my stare for far longer than he should. I have to remind myself killing him would harm Cindi. The masses would flock to my island and demand my head for ending their precious leader. If they don’t take me out, my mate’s death would be the only thing that would appease them.
Just as the thread on my control is about to snap, Lazell dips his head and swims away, muttering something I can’t catch.
I’ll have to do more parameter checks around the island from now on. Lazell’s waning patience for me to take a bride is making him desperate, and desperation leads to recklessness.
Growling in frustration, I swim closer to the water’s surface, swinging left toward the mountain range. Concentrating on the cool water or thinking about something other than the threat to my mate doesn’t unwind the maddening tension in my chest. Nothing will calm me until my eyes are on her.
It isn’t long until I descend toward the trenches where the healer made her home and spend the better part of an hour searching for the doorway I know all too well. It all looks so different without color.
Elder Adina was one of the few who cared little about my differences. I’ve spent more time with her than I have any other kraken I have no blood relation to. She’s had to treat one too many of my ailments—especially when I was younger. I was born with modified human lungs, an organ no other kraken possessed in their natural form.
Mother gave her a residence at the palace to see to me daily. For a time, there were concerns whether I could continue living in the sea, or if I had to live on land if they wanted me to survive. It’s another reason why I was moved to the island, why I spent so much time there growing up. I can only hold my breath for two or so days, but being on land will always be more comfortable.
My stomach sinks when I finally spot the healer’s residence. Rubble covers the entrance, an offering basket woven around one of the stones—a sign the den has been vacated and its occupier is seeking the Goddess’ blessing for luck and safe travels to find their new home.
I clench my jaw. Adina was our last living healer. Who will treat Cindi’s injury now? Or her vertigo, as Cindi calls it. The information stones I’ve taken from the palace library have offered me no assistance.
She is clutching her arm less and less, but that is unacceptable. She should not be experiencing any kind of pain. I’ve asked her about it before. She claimed she is semicertain about what’s wrong, and that time and rest is the cure.
Not good enough.
Huffing in frustration, I swim toward the edges of my territory in the direction of the island. I catch the breed of crab Cindi likes and spend the passing hours thinking of ways to make the island better suited for my human mate.
I want her to feel the same way I feel whenever I look at the scrunchie thing she gifted me. I feel…cherished. Deserving.
Accepted.
Every time I look at my wrist, I can almost believe I am enough for her.
The sun is high in the sky by the time I make it back to the island. After depositing the crabs in the cage we made, I seek her out.
I already know where I’ll find Cindi. She never stays in the den, even when her “vestibular system is being a bitch,” preferring to keep busy with making the island her own or burning her skin on the beach.
Her scent dances in the water leading up to the shore, growing stronger with every wave the closer I get. Vasz is swimming somewhere nearby. He no doubt sensed me long before I sensed him.
Cindi’s legs dangle in the water on either side of her surfboard. Most nights, she returns to the den bright red along her forehead, nose, and cheeks. She’ll hiss and groan as I apply the healing paste. The next morning, she’ll hmm and ohh when she looks in the mirror I installed in the hut, then repeat the whole burning process again.
Oxygen trickles into my lungs once I break the water’s surface, slowly swimming toward my mate. Her eyes are closed, head tipped back with an easy expression. Watching her out here is the highlight of my day. It settles my inner beast, eases the gnawing ache of inadequacy.
I force myself to keep my sights on her face, not her soft breasts pressed against the tiny blue triangles of fabric with white trims and strings. My breeding arm hardens painfully whenever she forgoes the long-sleeve top that covers her arms and stomach and “protects her from the sun,” as Cindi says.
I’m not sure why she needs protection from the sun. It’s an odd human superstition.
From this angle, I can’t see the fabric covering her sweet sex. Still, the sight of it is seared into my memory. My appendage twitches, instincts telling me to prowl forward, sink into her, and fill her with my seed.
A shudder works down my spine when I wrap my fist around my bulb. Moisture drips into the water, alleviating the pressure enough for me to approach Cindi without frightening her.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.