Page 42 of Nora's Kraken

Getting up from my perch on the log, I stand in front of him, right between his legs where he’s still seated. Bracing both hands on his shoulders, I narrow my eyes slightly as I study him. Elias sits stock-still under my inspection.

“How old are you, exactly?”

He winces. “I was born in the early 1700s. The year is up for debate, but let’s just say 1710.”

I mentally spin out for a moment, trying to fathom that number.

“And…” I say slowly. “When you look at me, do you see… I don’t know, like, a child? I mean, not an actual child, obviously, but I’m so much—”

“Absolutely not a child,” he growls, leaning forward to brace his hands on my hips. “And despite my age, I don’t believe you and I are all that different.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.”

Elias thinks for a moment. “I’m not exactly sure why, or how, but I haven’t grown…oddwith age, the way some creatures do. Maybe it’s stunted development, or just a pause at the age of maturity, but I could swear I still feel thirty-five, maybe forty, despite the years I’ve lived.”

“I’m twenty-seven,” I volunteer, and then frown. “I mean, if you didn’t already know that.”

“I didn’t,” he assures me.

There are other questions swirling in my mind, other considerations for the stark practicalities of any relationship between us. There are things I’ve read about mating bonds, things that are more magick than science, certain conditions that might make all of those considerations nothing…

That’s a question for another time, though.

Instead, I tilt my head and narrow my eyes even further. “Forty, huh? So, that still makes you kind of a creep.”

His hands tighten on my hips. “Am I too old for you, little siren?”

I can’t help it. I respond immediately to that touch. “No. Not too old.”

My whole body sways into him and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into an embrace. Elias’s body is warm, the wall of his chest firm beneath my cheek and the beat of his heart pounding against me.

“In all the years I’ve lived,” he murmurs into my hair, “I’ve dreamed of you, Nora. I didn’t know your face or your name, but I knewyou. And I can’t tell you how glad I am I’ve found you.”

Elias’s words are… big. Deep and important and permanent, they contain questions I can’t answer and promises I’m not capable of making. Still, I can’t let the moment go without acknowledging them. I can’t lethimgo without letting him know I hear and see him, that I’m here, even if I’m not ready to offer my own words in return.

“I don’t know how you waited so long,” I whisper.

His hand strokes a soothing path up and down my back. “I would have waited a thousand years for you, little siren. Gladly.”

Searching for a new topic, anything to dispel the huge, overwhelming feelings rising from the bottom of my belly, I reach up and touch the line of his scar where it bisects his cheek. “What happened here?”

He lets out a long breath, and I almost think the question was pushing too far when a small, wry smile turns up the corners of his lips.

“It’s not a story I’m proud of.”

“Oh. You don’t have to tell me if you’re not—”

He silences my protest with a light kiss. “I want you to know every part of me, Nora. Including the shadows.”

Elias takes my hand and leads me from the beached tree trunk. We wander slowly down the shore and he takes a minute or two to gather his thoughts before he finally starts speaking, telling me the truth about who he was centuries ago.

A pirate. He was an honest-to-god pirate.

I freakingknewit.

Stopping in the middle of the beach, I just stare at him for a few seconds, open-mouthed.

“Was it…” I say finally, still trying to process. “Was it like Pirates of the Caribbean?”

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