But I’d be doing the same thing to myself. I lost all my friends and the one man who truly cared about me. Maybe I don’t truly believe soulmates exist, that Ordus is mine, but fate has given me another chance. I have someone who will always have my back, protect me, never leave my side, bend over backward to please me.

I’d be losing a man who lights up whenever he looks down at a hair tie on his wrist, who purrs for me every night until I fall asleep. A monster who learned how to cook and brought an entire kitchen and a farm to a secluded island so I don’t have to eat the same thing day in and day out. He’s building me a shelter so I can watch the sunset, handwove a hammock for me to snooze on.

He looks at me like I’m the only reason he’s still breathing when I’ve done nothing but fight him or talk his ears off.

I’d be losing my mate too.

The words I’ll do it are caught in my throat. I can’t make myself say it. “I don’t know,” is all I manage.

I need to process everything and think. I just clawed my way out of one marriage; I can’t jump straight into another.

“I promised I’d take you to the mainland.”

My brows knit together. I can’t believe I forgot about that. At the time, I thought it was said in the heat of the moment, not a promise.

Ordus dips his head. “Forgive me, I had planned on taking you after lunch, but it is too dangerous. My kind will likely be waiting for me in the waters.”

Something is happening again.

The familiar coil of paranoia wraps around my lungs. The need to look over my shoulder hits me with full force.

But it’s not as potent as usual. Before, there was the doubt, the never-ending question of whether someone hid around the corner.

Now, I know nothing’s there. I want to check for peace of mind, because three sets of eyes are better than one, but no one would be able to sneak past both Ordus and Vasz, supernatural beings with heightened senses. Still…I feel safe with him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Maybe tomorrow.” He looks guilty, and I can only guess why.

“I trust you.”

Ordus snaps back like I’ve struck him. “You shouldn’t. I—they—” He’s back to his normal height, gliding up and down the short path of the cavern, fists clenched and stiff at his sides.

My fear spikes for only a moment before it ebbs. It doesn’t stop my body from responding on its own, hunkering down to brace for something—anything—even if my head knows better.

The sounds coming from his chest are pure vicious. Vasz matches them with his own warning growl as he searches the cavern for a threat that’s not there.

Ordus pauses in front of the pool we’ve slowly been adding fish to, like a makeshift aquarium with coral and vegetation we’re trying to harvest, but it isn’t going well. Everything always dies within two days. Three, if we’re really lucky.

A tentacle lashes out into the water to catch a fish, killing it with a crack of its head. I wince at the sudden movement, and Vasz jumps up to his feet to check if the kraken needs backup. I press my lips together, attempting to keep my breathing even. I watch him snatch a knife off a nearby shelf and skulk toward a bench against the back wall.

Ordus’ hair falls onto his face when he hunches over the bench, beginning the process of skinning and filleting the snapper. He’s vibrating, strung so tight, I’m worried if I blink, he’ll snap and the threads will turn into barbs.

His life is going up in flames too. He’s got everything to lose. That realization is a slap in the face, because I’ve spent every waking moment thinking the world revolves around me.

The swipe of the blade is jerky, and he slams the innocent creature against the table, flipping it over. Streams of black hair spill in the way, and he releases a full-blown snarl, straightening to hit it away before curling over the short table again.

He repeats the process another three times, growls growing louder. I hesitate for a moment before jumping from the stone and padding over to Ordus. Hesitantly, I place a hand on his forearm. He freezes midway through smacking his hair out of the way. His jaw feathers, and he carefully turns to face me.

Like this, I barely come up to his chest. I roll onto the balls of my feet to curl my fingers around the inside of his elbow and give it a gentle tug. “Let me help.”

His forehead wrinkles in confusion. I flick my eyes at his hair draped over his shoulder in answer.

The rage dissolves. One by one, his muscles untense, and the stormy clouds of his irises clear into bright blue. A tentacle latches onto my ankle, and I give him a small, sad smile that says, yeah, life is shit right now, but we’re in the shits together.

He moves his sprawling limbs out of the way and lets me pull him beside the pool. “Sit.”

Ordus studies me head to toe, like any second I’m going to rescind my offer and agree I shouldn’t trust him. But I’ve already made up my mind. I’m doing this.

Like a frightened animal, he lowers himself to the kraken equivalent of sitting, and I stand behind him. A few of his tentacles spill into the pool, some climbing up the surrounding walls while one stays firmly around me, coiling up my leg until there’s hardly any exposed skin.

We’re closer in height this way. I can sort of see over his head, but not much. He shivers the moment I brush his hair over his shoulders. Otherwise, just like every other time, he stays stock-still.

I thread my fingers through his silken strands to carefully work out a few tangles. I could get the comb on top of my shelf, but I don’t want to. There’s something heady about seeing a powerful male all but kneeling in front of me, shivering and shuddering whenever our skin touches.

I guess I thought everything would change after what we did last night. Maybe he’d become cocksure or arrogant or expect my total compliance, but he’s just as uncertain as he was yesterday.

The quiet of the cave—less Vasz’s gnawing on a coconut—is peaceful. It’s comforting, even if it is the calm before the storm.

Ordus must feel when I’m getting to the bottom of the braid, because he offers me a scrunchie that has most definitely seen better days. I nudge his hand back and show him the little black hair tie on my wrist I was using this morning.

I can only see his profile, but there’s no mistaking the way his lips part on a heavy breath. Warmth douses my insides. I could almost forget about this afternoon’s fiasco with how much he lights up from such a simple thing.

I tie the plait off and navigate his limbs, plus a tentacle holding me hostage, to stand in front of him under the guise of assessing my handiwork.

The blue-algae light kisses the high points of his cheeks and the curve of his pillowy lips. Shadows dip around his broad shoulders and muscled chest, highlighting the definition in his abs. “You look good,” I whisper without really thinking about it.

Our gazes snare like a deer in headlights. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and uncertainty colors his.

Does he think I’m lying?

A stone drops in my gut. That doesn’t sit right with me. I’m tired of treating him like he’s the villain when he’s just another victim who didn’t get an out.

“I like the way you look,” I clarify. “The other krakens were fucking hideous.”

His eyes glimmer like the sun reflecting off the water, and the corners of my lips tick up. His do the same, though a little more hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “It looked like someone stepped on them as a baby. The one who kept on talking creeped me the hell out. He was a real Eldritch Horror.”

Ordus’ gives me a small smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. It makes my heart ache for him. “Lazell,” he tells me. “When I was younger, kraken females would swoon over him, even when Yannig was alive.”

I reach around to pull his braid over his shoulder in a covert move to touch him. “I thought your kind had good eyesight.”