Page 44 of The Kraken's Queen

Before she can ask a follow-up question, I swim away toward a closed door. “I may have lied about one of my previous meetings.”

“Oh?” Curiosity colors her voice. “Then where were you, and why was it so secretive you couldn’t share it with your wife?”

Wife.

Never a sweeter word.

“Forgive me, my queen, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” I search the dark room until my eyes land on the instrument. It was not easy getting it here and hiding it from Erin, but Delmare and Iris did a good job at keeping her distracted.

I grab the pearl-white instrument and am once again surprised by how heavy it is. The siren who made this assured me it was the top of the line and the only one of its kind. I know very little about musical instruments apart from liking the way they sound, so I’m hoping the man is right. More importantly, I’m hoping Erin will find it satisfactory.

An audible gasp sounds from behind me, and when I place the instrument down in the center of the room, I turn to see Erin. My wife’s hands cover her mouth, eyes wide as she takes in the harp. The light hits the instrument to create an opal-rainbow effect around the room.

“I’ve seen you favoring the harp recently. Iris said you made a comment about the old one being out of tune.”

“So you bought me an entirely new one?” She giggles. “Tuning would have sufficed, but…” Erin swims over to her present, gently running her hand down the soundbox. She hums appreciatively, moving to glide her fingers against the strings.

The music is sweet, and although I have no ear for correct tuning, even I can tell it sounds beautiful. “Allarick…” Erin’s voice catches, her voice dripping with emotion.

Her gaze meets mine and holds. There’s something different in the way she’s looking at me, almost as if she’s seeing me for the very first time. Really seeing me. Not just the man she had to marry to escape James. But rather her husband she’s…falling in love with? Love is a strong word and perhaps not the case, no matter how much I want it to be.

Erin’s love needs to be earned. She’ll find I’ll do anything for it.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” she says after finding her voice. We gravitate toward one another, and I capture her in my arms. Erin, without hesitation, leans into my touch and places a soft kiss to my lips. “You are not what I expected,” she whispers against our kiss.

“And what did you expect, sweet girl?”

“A man,” she says. “But I’m learning I’m much more of a kraken sort of girl.” She smirks, and I lose all semblance of composure.

My lips come crashing down upon hers, and Erin moans. It goes straight to my cock, painfully pushingagainst my pouch, wanting to be free. She opens for me, and our tongues collide. I drink her in, loving her soft whimpers each time my tongue strokes hers.

My tentacles wrap around her arm and waist, feeling her lush curves. What would it be like to explore her body with nothing between us? To see her writhing in pleasure as my hands and tentacles roam her body, bringing orgasm after orgasm. As she said, I am no man, and I don’t fuck like one either. My queen will be treated as such, her body worshiped in bed.

Erin breaks away, chest heaving in her bodice. Her lips are swollen from my kiss, and the way she’s biting her bottom lip nearly brings me to my knees. The heat and desire in her gaze make me want to pull her back and tangle myself with her until we don’t know where one of us ends and the other begins.

“I don’t have a wedding gift for you,” Erin says again, placing her hands on my chest.

“It’s fine, Erin.” I didn’t expect anything from her. She doesn’t know all of our traditions, and I was being honest when I said she’s already given my people and me a gift we can’t ever repay.

“But I have a song I’ve been working on. For you. It’s not completely ready, but…can I play it for you?” she asks nervously.

I’ve had stories written about me and dances made in my honor. But never has anyone written a song for me. My heart swells. As badly as I wanted her a moment ago, that can wait. I need to hear what my wife made for me.

“Please. I would love to hear it.” I untangle my limbs from her lithe body and float back untilI’m draped over the couch. Erin retrieves the seat from the old harp and brings it to the new one.

“It’s rough,” she warns.

“Luckily for you, your husband knows nothing about music other than it sounds pretty. So I’m sure I’ll love it.” My words are meant to encourage her, and I think they do. She doesn’t shy away from me but sits up straight and brings her hands to pluck gently at the strings.

“I can’t put my feelings into words. I’ve never been very articulate, so I hope this helps me explain how I feel about you,” she says.

And she starts to play.

The song sounds melancholy when it starts, as if she’s weeping. The melody reminds me of lost love. Erin’s eyes close as she gets lost in her own music. The tune changes gradually to something sweet and soft, reminding me of the days we spent in Atina’s house together. Then the sound morphs into something else entirely.

The notes are faster. Stronger. Her hands flutter across the strings, plucking each with an intensity only a seasoned musician can achieve. The sound is that of a siren, beautiful and new. Full of sorrow and hope. I’ve never been one to be brought to tears during a song, but this isn’t just any song.

It’s about us.

---