Page 33 of The Kraken's Queen

“You do. Quite beautifully. If magic had a sound, it would be your playing, my lady,” Iris, an older mermaid and Delmare’s wife, says. She’s usually a stickler for the rules and never barges into a room occupied by me without requesting access. I trust her the most out of all my staff, which is why I assigned her to attend to Erin. This intrusion is out of character for the seasoned maid.

Not even Delmare is able to ignore the music. The kraken prides himself on abiding by protocol and is always professional. But he’s drifting toward Erin as if being pulled by an invisible string. This whole interaction is…interesting. Unexpected, but not unappreciated.

“Can we hear one more, my queen?” Delmare asks.

“Oh, well…” Erin shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She’s smiling, and I sense her desire to play more for her new audience, but her self-doubt creeps in. She seeks me out amongst the group, and we lock eyes. I see the question she’s not asking.

Erin doesn’t need my permission to play. She can do as she pleases, but she does want my reassurance. I’m happy to give her just that for as long as she needs it. I nod, and her entire face brightens.

“Okay, I’ll play one of my favorites,” she says as the small group around her all find somewhere to watch her play. Iris swims over to Delmare, who wraps his tentacle around her waist, pulling her close. The two have been mated and married for years now, and still their love burns brightly. I’ve always envied him for that.

Erin starts to play again, and the feeling of peace consumes me once more. The feeling is almost tangible, like silky seaweed wrapping around my body. This song is slower than the one before but just as beautiful. It ends as quickly as her first song, but, at the request from the young mermaid, Erin starts another.

She plays and plays and plays without tiring. More people have wandered in, and soon the large room is nearly filled with my castle staff, all in varying states of amazement. Guards station themselves outside thedoors, but they also peer in to listen to Erin. She doesn’t even realize how many people she’s attracted to her music until the end of her seventh song, when she picks her gaze up from the piano to look around the room.

Her posture changes, tensing and curling in on herself almost as if she wants to make herself appear smaller. Her eyes widen as she takes in every person in the room. Someone behind me starts to clap, and many more join in until the entire room is thunderous with applause, all praising her songs. Erin’s cheeks redden, but she timidly thanks those closest to her. I quickly foresee a problem when more and more people surround my future queen. She’s a guppy in a sea of sharks, eyes darting around for a swift exit.

I rise from my seat, swimming above the others. “My betrothed must rest. If she wishes, she’ll play for you another time. Leave us, please,” my voice booms around the room, and all chatter ceases.

Disappointed gazes meet my own, but no one tries to defy me. Each person bows in my direction, and, to my surprise, Erin’s direction as well, before they leave.

“Delmare,” I call for my guard before he makes it out the door.

Delmare whispers something to Iris that has her smiling before swimming away. “Yes, my king?”

“See to it we aren’t disturbed.”

“Yes, my king. I’ll stand guard.” Delmare turns and swims out, shutting the door behind him.

With him stationed outside, I don’t worry we will be interrupted again. Finally, I’m alone with Erin.

Erin still looks like a cornered guppy, and I fear thecrowd may have been too much for her. I swim closer, hoping to provide comfort. “Erin, I’m sorry. That was?—”

“Amazing,” she finishes. Now that we’re alone, she stands taller, her body vibrating with excitement. “Allarick, that was amazing. Those people came to listen. Tome! Can you believe that? I haven’t played in front of an audience in so long, I forgot the rush that it brings you. I can’t believe I just did that.”

Erin flings herself into me and wraps her arms around my neck. My body stiffens, but only for a fraction of a second before my arms come around her waist and pull her tightly against my chest. I haven’t held Erin like this before, her curves flush against my body. Holding her like this, I know I risk causing her distress, but I still can’t bring myself to let her go.

She smells of honey. Of salt and the sea. My head drops, nuzzling close to her neck. A soft whimper leaves her mouth as my lips brush her skin. I don’t dare kiss her, though everything in me wants to do exactly that.

How easy would it be to give in to my carnal needs? To elicit more of those pleasurable sounds and have them turn into sultry moans? I want to see Erin writhing for me, begging me to touch her. Perhaps these are thoughts from a kraken who hasn’t lain with a woman in some time, but I don’t believe that to be true.

I don’t want any other woman.

I want Erin.

The pull has been there since the moment I saw her broken and bruised in Ender’s arms. Even then, I knew she was special. The time I’ve spent with her only confirms what I already knew to be true. Erinbelieves herself to be weak, but she’s wrong. I see her strength. It’s quiet and sometimes fragile, but strength doesn’t have to be loud or unbreakable to be valid.

Sometimes the mightiest are the smallest.

“Erin…” My voice comes out raspier than I intend. My sweet girl stiffens in my arms, and I’m doused with reality. Erin’s mind and body appear in battle with each other. Perhaps she wants me just as much as I want her, but she’s shackled by her past. James stole her innocence and twisted her until he broke every piece of her body and soul.

You don’t simply walk away from something like that so easily, no matter how strong you are. It takes time and energy. I believe Erin has the capability to heal from her past, but I’m also not so naive to think the short time with me has changed her. I’m not that arrogant of a man.

With great reluctance, I release my hold from around her, drawing back. Erin doesn’t pull away at first. Instead, we stand chest to chest, her arms still around my neck as she looks up at me.

“Thank you,” she says.

I watch her pouty lips, wanting to reach out and rub my thumb across them. Through the grace of our goddess, I somehow find the strength to refrain. “For what, sweet girl?”

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