Page 16 of The Kraken's Queen

Her entire demeanor changed the moment I got her in the ocean. Her body needed to feel the water, and she needed to hear the sound of the ocean creatures to bringher back to reality. It made me unbelievably proud that my queen connected with the ocean so quickly.

Back at the cabin, I carry Erin to bed. She’s still in her clothes from earlier—dry, thankfully—but I wish I could make her more comfortable in the sleeping clothes I’ve provided her. I won’t wake her to change, and I’m definitely not going to change her myself while she’s asleep. So, these clothes will have to do for now.

Pulling the blankets up around her, I take my spot on the chair. Sleep will not come for me tonight as I plan to watch over her, but I’m resigned to my fate. I grab a spare blanket folded at the end of the bed and pull it up around my shoulders.

I’m in and out of consciousness, the smallest sounds wake me, and my instinct is to check on Erin each time. She clutches a pillow close to her chest, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep. It’s not the peaceful sleep I hoped she would have tonight, but she doesn’t appear to be suffering from a nightmare.

Or so I thought.

Not even ten minutes later, Erin screams. A high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream that has me jumping off my chair and springing into action. I expect to see an intruder, perhaps one of King Alpha Rip’s wolves who let their curiosity get the best of them and wandered too far from the pack.

But there’s nothing in the darkness. I strain my ear, hoping to pick up on the sounds of footfalls or breathing, but all that comes to me are Erin’s screams of pure, unadulterated terror.

“Allarick!” she screams. For a moment, I’m frozen tothe spot, unable to do more than gape. Erin thrashes in bed and soon pushes herself up. Her eyes are wide, full of terror as she desperately searches the room. It’s nearly pitch-black in here, and she can’t see me. “Allarick!” she calls again, choking back a sob.

Hearing her broken cry breaks the hold she has over me, and I don’t think. I just act. I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her. Erin screams and tries to push me off, because of course she does. She can’t fucking see me, and I haven’t made my presence known.

“Sweet girl, it's me. It’s Allarick. I’m here.” I repeat those words over and over again. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll protect you.”

After a few minutes of strangled breathing and a racing heart, Erin goes limp in my arms, her head falling to my chest. “Allarick?” she asks softly, as if scared of the answer. Or scared that I’m not actually next to her.

“I’m here,” I say again, keeping my hold around her. I don’t have my tentacles this time, but she either doesn’t mind or doesn’t realize what’s happening. She shudders against me and reaches up to feel my face.

Her hand moves down to my neck before moving on to my locs and fingering one gently. “Allarick.” This time when she says my name, it’s not a question but rather a confirmation of what she needed to know. She needed to feel me to know I’m real.

“I’m sorry,” she says after a long pause. Her voice wavers, and a single tear rolls down her already tear-stained cheeks.

“No, Erin. I’m sorry.” My own voice is deep and full ofemotions I can’t keep to myself anymore. “I’m sorry you can’t feel safe in your own dreams. I’m sorry someone hurt a beautiful, smart, and confident girl until she felt unworthy of love. I’m sorry I can’t do more, but understand this…”

Erin hasn’t moved since I began speaking. She remains tense in my arms, and I try to soothe her by rubbing her back gently.

“Know that you are wanted here. That you will never have to be fearful of me. I will do all I can to help you heal, even if that means comforting you every night because you had a bad dream. Here, you are a queen and will be treated with nothing but the respect and kindness you deserve.”

I can’t fix Erin. I can’t reach into her soul and mend the broken pieces instantly, no matter how badly I want to take away her pain. This human I have only known for a short time has become one of the most important people in my life. I can be there as she heals and regains the part of her that someone broke. Even if that takes one hundred years.

“Thank you,” she says, but before I can answer, she goes on, “for everything. Both for comforting me during the panic attack and the nightmare.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” She doesn’t. I don’t comfort her to get her gratitude. I comfort her because she deserves it.

“Still. No one has ever done that for me. Not since I was a little girl, at least.” Her voice cracks from use. I don’t think I’ve heard her talk this much to me. One day I’ll learn more of Erin’s story, but it is a discussion forlater. We still have a few hours until morning, and she needs sleep after purging her emotions.

Erin yawns and gently removes herself from my embrace. I feel her absence instantly but let her go. She lies back down on the bed, but before she does, she snatches up the blanket I was using earlier. I can’t hide the grin on my face, even if she can’t see it.

She wants a piece of me. Or maybe she’s just really cold, but I prefer to think Erin wants the blanket because it smells of me. And hopefully my scent brings her a semblance of comfort.

After all, it wasmeshe called for in the midst of panic. I don’t take that lightly.

She curls up on her side, bringing the blanket to her chest. I know she’s tired because her eyelids keep drooping, and her breathing evens out. Just when I think she’s asleep, Erin’s small voice breaks through the silence: “I’m safe.”

It sounds like more of a reminder, both to herself and me. A fragile trust blossoms between us, barely there but taking root.

“You’re safe,” I agree, but Erin’s already fallen back to sleep with my blanket for comfort.

I smile for a long time after that until my cheeks hurt. This feels a lot like progress.

I didn’t sleepmuch that night, consumed with making sure Erin was still sleeping well. She jolted in her sleepnumerous times throughout the night, as if she were running from someone. I wanted to take those nightmares and lock them away in a place she’d never have to deal with again. I was helpless to do much other than watch her and be there if she woke up.

Eventually, I gave up on sleeping and got up to make breakfast. She hasn’t complained once about my food, even though I know it’s terrible. She’s polite and doesn’t comment, but she also doesn’t eat much.

---