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Tempted By the Kraken

Page 52

by Eva Brandt

Valerie draws a breath. “You’re saying—”

“No.” I cut her off. “You were finished the moment you suggested claiming her.”

Lotan finally turns toward me. “I was speaking to Valerie, and whether you approve has nothing to do with whether she accepts.”

Valerie catches my forearm before I can move closer. “Sigurd, wait. I need to understand exactly what he means.”

Lotan answers before I can. “I am a leviathan. My power can break a kraken’s incomplete bond. With my proposal, Saltweather is released permanently. The new basin becomes mine once Rakan finishes preparing it. I break the claim keeping you below the surface. After that, you return home.”

Valerie’s fingers tighten around my arm as she absorbs the terms. Lotan watches her reaction and makes the mistake of pressing the point.

“You would regain everything his claim took from you without sacrificing anything else.”

I cross the space between us and drive my fist into his jaw before he finishes.

Lotan crashes into the stone column behind him hard enough to rattle the carvings overhead. The merfolk guards lower their spears, but my mother’s household moves between us before they can advance. I seize the front of Lotan’s armor and shove him back against the column as he tries to recover.

“Sigurd, release him.” My mother’s voice cuts through the shouting behind me. “You are not turning this hall into a battlefield.”

Blood gathers along Lotan’s lower lip, but he still manages a smile. “Imagine what he will do if she actually says yes.”

I slam him into the stone again. His claws rake across my forearm as he twists one shoulder free. Before I can secure him again, his elbow drives into my ribs and his shoulder catches my chest, forcing me several steps backward.

Valerie shouts my name. Lotan straightens, breathing harder now. “She is telling you to stop. You might consider listening to her before deciding anything else on her behalf.”

I catch him around the torso before he can move farther away, and two tentacles tighten over his armor. “Don’t pretend you care what Valerie wants after using Saltweather to force her into your claim.”

“I care enough to let her answer for herself. Can you say the same?”

I throw him to the floor. His armor rakes across the stone as the merfolk guards surge forward. My mother’s people close ranks before them, and the hall fills with raised voices and the scrape of weapons shifting into position.

“If you kill him under my roof, this becomes a war.” My mother has left the dais now, her face colder than I have seen it in years. “Whatever he has done, you need to stop.”

Lotan rolls onto one side, coughing as he tries to push himself upright. I catch his armor before he gets his feet under him and haul him back up. “She still has not answered,” he says.

My grip tightens before I can stop it.

Lotan notices. “You heard the price and attacked before she could decide whether she wanted to pay it. Dragging me away will not change that.”

I force him toward the doors before he can say anything more. He digs his heels into the stone and twists against the tentacles around his torso, making every step harder than the last.

“Take me back and let her answer, Eiriksson. If you are so certain she would choose you, then stand there and hear her say it.”

Valerie calls my name again as we cross the threshold, but Lotan gives me no time to turn toward her. He plants one foot against the corridor wall and twists hard enough to wrench his upper body sideways.

One of my tentacles slips across his armor. His elbow catches me beneath the jaw, and the force sends me shoulder-first into the opposite wall.

Lotan tears himself free and comes back at me with his claws out.

We collide beside a narrow table, splintering it beneath our combined weight. I catch his wrist before his claws reach my throat, but his other hand rakes across my ribs and opens the skin beneath my shirt. I drive him into the wall, wrench his arm away, and throw him across the passage before he can lock one leg behind mine.

He lands hard and rolls with the impact. Blood has started at the corner of his mouth, and by the time I reach him he is already back on his feet.

“You wanted me out of the hall,” he says, breathing hard. “What happens now?”

I answer by driving him backward with another blow.

He staggers toward the airlock at the end of the passage and catches himself against the frame. I close the distance before he can recover, wrap two tentacles around his torso, and force him through the open inner doors.