Page 6 of Kept By the Kraken

“Pen?

“What the hell?”

The stranger ignores my staring and ends the call before handing me back my phone. His fingers brush mine for a fleeting moment, but it’s as if I’ve been struck by lightning, every cell inside my being illuminating in a burning white blaze. My breathing stutters.

His temple tics and he grinds his jaw. Confusion washes over his face as he looks down at his hand, pulling it away as if he too felt the burn. Or maybe he’s wondering how the fuck he ended up taking a stranger’s phone to yell at her dick of an ex.

He gives the slightest shake of his head.

I’m suspended in time, my shaking breath the only sound between us.

Without another word, he turns and walks away from me. I’m left mouth agape. My entire body feels as if I’ve been stunned, except this live wire of static jolts from my heart andtrails behind him. It’s as if he took some part of me with him, this stranger, and until he returns it, I’ll never be whole.

What the hell is in the water of this town? I’m having encounters on land now? Just summoning all my fantasies to life. Maybe I’ve gone nuts. I should get myself laid and forget this whole thing. Go back to cataloging lobster.

But I can’t let it go. My curiosity propels me forward, and I climb out the car to follow the mountain man.

Chapter 4

Bjorn

I’ve gone absolutely fucking insane. Walking away from the human, I flee to the side of the house. I need to get out of sight before the woman sees a man spouting tentacles.

That wasn’t just any woman. It was her. The reason for my new rune. My kraken rages at me, determined to go back to her. The rune on my wrist burns, the magic like acid in my veins.

The veil that separates my Beast and me feels too thin, his tentacles squeezing through the cracks in my mind. He yanks on my skin, trying to wrestle for control. Feelers spout along my arms and back like goose bumps beading in the breeze. They’re after a taste of her.

This is all her fault.

My mate. A small human with hair as dark as ink, lush round curves, and eyes so light they’re the misty violet of the crocus that grows in the woodlands near my oldest home. I curse her beauty, her very existence. The moment I saw her, I knew she was meant to be mine and I loathe her for it.

The distance stretches between us, but she remains a presence in my chest, pulling me back like an anchor chain. The strain of the taut line aches, but it’s nothing compared to the agony of my betrayal. I want to rip the link between us out withmy hands, dig and claw until the parasite in my chest is dead and I can toss it back to the sea.

Don’t think of them.

Sweat beads along my brow as I wrestle to keep control. My eyes shift, the haze of my kraken changing the world into a kaleidoscope of riotous color. I blink, forcing back the Beast, and my sight returns to normal. My lungs burn with the strain of holding my skin.

She is nothing to me. She never will be. I will not give in to the pull between us.

I repeat the lie to myself as I grab my ax and head to the chopping block, needing to busy my body as a distraction. My Beast laughs at me in the corner of my mind. He’s biding his time, waiting for me to slip so we can claim her. He knows we cannot resist the call of our mate, that it is unnatural to try.

Fuck the gods.

The swing of my ax is too hard, and splinters of firewood spit in every direction. I line up another piece and do it again. And again.

A faint trace of flowers carries on the salty breeze and my muscles tense. She is still here. I curse. My Beast is on high alert, too close to the boundary once again. If I thought he would help, I would take to the sea, but there’s no doubt that if I give him control, he will claim her. Refusing to give in to the tug in my chest, I return to chopping wood.

“Hello.” Her voice is sweet like honey. Still it scratches and chafes at old wounds.

I swallow as a pair of colorful galoshes appear in the grass, leading up to black pants molded to curvy thighs and shapely hips. My eyes refuse to stay put, following up her rounded waist to the ample cleavage that spills from the top of her white shirt.

Her scent is thicker now that she’s near. She smells floral and earthy, like the start of spring when the world wakes up after along winter sleep. I don’t want to like it, don’t want to thaw for her.

“You’re the lightkeeper?”

Her question is laughable, the light having been gone from my life before she was a thought in the universe. If I was a lightkeeper, I was a shitty one.

She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and looks away from the intensity of my gaze. I’m making her nervous, and my Beast rumbles his displeasure. Red splotches appear on her neck and chest as she flushes with embarrassment. My cock twitches against my leg, plumping in anticipation.

---