Page 8 of The Kraken's Queen

Except he never did.

I was just about to turn around when something caught my attention. Off to my right was a small, decorative table with a folder on top. A manila folder with nothing but the wordsErin Goodwinin fancy script written across the front. It should have frightened me knowing The Guardian knew me and that I would come.But it didn’t. It felt like my ticket to freedom. I snatched it up quickly and read through the pages.

I read about a world not like my own. A world where supernatural beings live and rule freely. It was so impossible to comprehend a world like that existed. The Guardian could take me away from this life, but only if I agreed to marry a man I’d never met, who also happened to be a kraken—whatever that is.

It was a testament to how badly I wanted away from James that I signed that contract without second thought. An unknown monster is better than the monster I knew. I wouldn’t survive James much longer, but the contract gave me a chance of survival.

The door opens back up, pulling me away from the past and back to the unfamiliar bedroom. Allarick, the giant of a man who looks nothing like a sea monster, peers in. He offers me a smile, but when he sees my untouched food, it quickly turns into a frown. I have the bizarre urge to apologize to him, even though I didn’t do anything wrong. Years of always having to be the one to beg for forgiveness don’t go away after a few days.

“Can I come in?” he keeps his voice gentle and low.

Allarick waits for me to nod before he walks in. I take note of the way he bends his head to get through the door, his locs nearly scraping the top of the doorframe. He approaches the side of my bed and holds out a jar, expecting me to take it.

I do but tentatively, not sure what I’m holding.

He sees the confusion written across my face. “It's a salve. Rub it into your skin like lotion, and it should help with your injuries. At least until the healer is able to gethere.” He seems annoyed that the healer hasn’t arrived yet. I don’t mind though. Enough people have witnessed my shame; I’m not eager for another.

Allarick is still staring at me expectantly, so I unscrew the lid. I’m hit with the smell of chamomile and lavender. It reminds me of my late mother’s garden in the springtime. She firmly believed plants and flowers had healing properties and would often concoct her own remedies.

I dip my fingers into the cool salve and start massaging the cream into my skin. Already I feel a soothing effect, and I’m grateful. I go to say as much, but only a pained whisper comes out.

“You didn’t eat any of your food,” Allarick says after a moment of silence. We both glance at my untouched meal, and I just shrug.

“Not hungry?” Another shrug. Allarick frowns. “Your body needs to heal. Nutrients will help that process.”

I sigh, not sure why this man cares so much about my eating habits. He gestures to the bruising around my neck. I shake my head, hoping he understands me.

Realization dawns, and he almost looks angry. But for some reason, I don’t think his anger is geared toward me. I hope not, at least. Still, my body goes into survival mode, and I curl in on myself, ready to protect my head if needed.

“It hurts when you swallow?” he asks.

I nod, relieved he doesn’t push the matter or come any closer. Instead, he grabs my tray but leaves my cup of tea, placing it on the bedside table. “At least try to drink this. It’ll help. In the meantime, I’ll fix a broth.”

I nod again, pulling the blankets tighter around me. I don’t mean for this to be a signal for Allarick to leave, but he sees the movement and steps back.

“I’ll let you rest. I’m right down the hall if you need me,” he says then hesitates. For a moment, I think he’s going to say more, but the moment passes, and he gives me a tight-lipped smile.

Then Allarick is gone.

Again.

With nothing else to do, and the events of the past few days finally catching up to me, I lay my head down on the pillow and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 6

Erin

Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless.

These words play like a mantra in my mind, over and over again until every other quality about me fades away. I’m not Erin, the classically trained musician. I’m not Erin, the woman who graduated from college early. I’m not Erin, the bubbly, vibrant woman with loving friends.

Those core pieces of my identity are stripped away until nothing but rubble is left. I started to believe James’s lies and took them for the truth. Only a pathetic woman feels fear throughout the entire day. Only a stupid woman stays in a toxic relationship. Only a worthless woman would let others treat her with no respect.

Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless.

I’ve only ever had one real boyfriend. We met in high school and became high school sweethearts. Those two years we were together in high school were perfect.Hewas perfect. Or at least that was what I was led to believe.

My parents adopted me very late in life, so by the time I graduated high school, they were well into their seventies and eighties. When I lost them, it felt like a part of me died with them. Like a crater-size hole was left in my heart by their absence, and it would never be filled. The only thing that kept me going was the love and support from my boyfriend, James.

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