Page 32 of The Kraken Bride

What could it be?

He tugged at the index finger of his glove. “You know Jokull held me prisoner. What you do not know is what happened during my imprisonment.”

He pulled at the middle finger next. “There’s a long list of…”

Ring finger.

“...tortures he inflicted upon me.”

The material over his outermost finger flapped slightly before he yanked at it, tugging the glove off all the way.

“He made me watch as he ate my pinky.”

The air grew heavy and warm. The windows inched closer and the roof lower, as if the car shrank around us. Even the hum of the engine felt intrusive.

Sebastian held up his now gloveless hand, revealing the missing finger.

I flattened my palm over my tightening chest. Oh, Sebastian. This wasn’t just a wound, but a reminder of the primordial. A reminder the kraken king carried every day after his escape.

He stuffed his hand into the glove, stiffer than he’d been moments before. “I hadn’t yet reached the age of immortality, so I didn’t regenerate the appendage.”

Poor Sebastian. When immortality locked, it locked you as you were.

“He ate the digit to taunt me. Dessert after enjoying my father. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject,” he said, his lips a grim line.

I swallowed. “Why tell me now?”

“So you won’t be lost when Jon insults me.”

The kraken king had suffered more than I could ever have fathomed. Ja, I’d signed on for this mission mostly for the reward, but now…

Now, my dragon stirred. Jokull must die screaming. How dare he do this? And how dare the shifter think to taunt Sebastian?

Every time he looked upon his hand, he must relive everything that happened, and something in me needed to replace that memory with something else.

Desperate to touch him, I slid into him, almost draping myself over his frame, and plucked the glove free. He didn’t try to stop me, just watched, brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t figure out what I was doing.

I linked our fingers, saying, “We need to get you used to my touch.”

A heartbeat of silence. The tension in his shoulders eased. He gave a gravelly, “Já. Very smart.”

He peered at me. I peered at him. The air thickened.

Tightening his grip, he turned his head to gaze out the window again.

The king allowed me to hold his hand the rest of the drive, not severing contact until the car stopped. And then he only let me go long enough to don the glove before immediately reclaiming my hand. He didn’t release me when the driver came around and opened his door. Not even as he emerged and helped me out. Not even as I wrinkled my nose at the smell. Rust, salt, and old blood.

Nein, he used our handhold to tug me closer and urge me to bury my face in the hollow of his neck. I breathed him in, everything else blocked as he walked us to a different warehouse than before. Once I centered, I forced myself to focus forward. This warehouse squatted at the edge of the district, an enormous structure made of dark steel and reinforced stone, its walls streaked with salt corrosion and scorch marks. Floodlights mounted along the roofline cast harsh white beams across the yard, illuminating armed guards stationed at regular intervals, spears at the ready. No banners. No royal markings. Only function and force.

Those men. Shifters, all. Glowing white ringed their irises, and any visible skin possessed a bioluminescent sheen. But most telling? They were double the size of kraken berserkers, as if their bodies could not contain their beasts, so they stretched to accommodate.

Count the steps. Ja, ja. Focus on the performance. Head up. I was used to being around tall, muscular men but ash and embers. There was big, and then there was BIG. I’d heard of the physical changes a shifter went through but never witnessed it firsthand. My role was to keep the masses calm and entertained during combat.

Speaking of… “No Gunnar?” The mountain of a man would’ve been a nice ace to have right about now.

“He isn’t needed. You have me.” Sebastian got us inside, heat giving way to chill. He paused to release my hand and snake his arm around my waist, pinning me to his side.

He dipped his head to press a slow, searing kiss into my throat, staking his claim. Shivers careened through my body, every nerve pulled tight. I felt his every action like a caress. The lifting of his head. When he paused near my ear. As he whispered, “Whatever you see, whatever you hear, do not fear for even the briefest moment. At no time will you be in danger. That, Brownie Bites, I promise you.”