Page 12 of Kept By the Kraken

I’ve debated trying to sneak into the house to see if I can find anything to help me escape, but I’m too afraid he’ll see me. There isn’t any cover near the house except the wood pile, and that’s not close to the door.Besides, darkness has set, and the storm is almost on top of us. The temperature has dropped, the wind whipping the waves into a frenzy.

The stranger has been focused. Silent. Watching his methodical movements is unnerving. It’s as if he’s stuck in place, doing the motions on a time loop.

Turning away from him, I calculate my odds. Not far in the other direction, it looks like some kind of trail leads down the cliff. Maybe to a beach or a cave? In the darkness, it’s hard to tell.

I look back at the mountain of a man. Even though I’m afraid, he is also the saddest creature I’ve ever seen. I can’t reconcile the man who kissed me on the bed or even the riled-up one who threw me over his shoulder with the husk of a man on the lawn. Something about him tugs at my heart and calls me to him.

No. He’s not for you!

Rain splatters in fat drops that turn to slick sheets. Forcing myself to move, I dart toward the trail. My hands grip the damp sea wall, and I almost trip on the slick rock at the opening of the trail.Thunder rumbles as the heart of the storm moves closer.

His voice carries on the wind, a broken cry. “You want to know what I know, my violet eyed human?”

I freeze and turn back to him, caught out in the open with nowhere to hide.

Human? He said human right?

Amid the white rain, he stands, arms out and head thrown back. The sound of his roar into the darkness bounces around until it feels as though it’s everywhere and nowhere. It’s filled with so much pain, it nearly takes my breath.

But the most haunting thing is the bright symbols that mark his skin as though he’s lit from within. All of his tattoos glow. They’re so bright that I can see them clearly through his clothes. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

No. That’s not right. It’s like the creature that was with me in the water. A mark exactly like the one in the photograph glows on this man’s back.

What does this mean? Was he with me in the water? But how?

He doesn’t turn to face me, though he knows I’m here. His skin is a brilliant beacon in the night, and I step closer.

“I’m a man who lost everything and everyone I’ve ever loved.”

My insides ache at the despair in his voice. It’s a sound devoid of all hope.

“I’m a monster. Leave before I’m your death too.”

He stomps across the yard, his footsteps sloshing in the rain. The door slams, the glass in the front rattling with the force.

I look at my car and the dark path cut into the forest then back at the house. This is my chance. I need to run. Run and never look back.

But I can’t let it go. The need to understand is a hunger in my gut, gnawing at my insides. Was he with me in the water? Did he save me, bring me to the surface? Is henothuman? What are those marks on his skin? I would say it was magic if I didn’t know any better.

It isn’t only my curiosity about the water. It’s this man, this haunted stranger. His words cause an ache that lodges in my throat, choking me. Who did he lose? Why does he think he’s a monster? He’s lonely and hurting, carrying a secret so big that he’s falling apart under the weight of it.

I recognize his loneliness. Sometimes I’m so fucking lonely I think I might disappear. All my life, I’ve tried to fit in, do what everyone expects, and stay in the lines. But it’s never enough.

I’m always too much. Too loud and opinionated for my family. Too socially awkward to make many friends. Too weird and messy for Daniel. I was an obligation to my parents and my husband.

But this mysterious stranger with glowing skin and haunted eyes saw me. In the darkness and this raging storm, he called out to me, and I felt the ache of his longing in my soul.

Even though logically I have no reason not to run, walking away from him feels impossible. My feet carry me across the yard, but instead of the darkness of the forest, I turn toward the lighthouse. He’s told me to leave, but I can’t go until I know who he is. Or why it feels as though I’m meant to know him.

Chapter 8

Bjorn

The violet-eyed human walks through the front door as if she owns the place. When she should have fled, she stayed. She’s wildly, foolishly, brave.

She escaped the room I locked her in by climbing out a window, though how the human did it without splattering herself on the rocks below, I don’t know. I missed the sounds of her escape but couldn’t avoid her presence in the yard.She watched me, waiting, with the thick stench of her fear heavy between us. It made my lungs tight and my gut sour with the wrongness of it.

I came outside to figure out some kind of solution to her presence. But I couldn’t get past the idea that I’d hurt her. As her scent settled and her fear lessened, my resolve heightened. This woman has only known me for an evening, and already she suffers. This time at my hand. She will not be like Thora. I can’t be responsible for her death too.

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