Krakenos tilts his head, clearly intrigued by this foreign concept. “You mean to say your people have a say in who leads them? They choose their own rulers?”
I nod, but then hesitate, not wanting to paint too rosy a picture. “Sort of. It’s complicated. The truth is, a lot of people feel like they don’t really have much of a say at all. Like their voices don’t matter, and the people in power don’t really represent them. There’s a lot of corruption. It’s not a perfect system, by any means.”
He frowns, confusion etched on his face. “What about the young ones? Perhaps things can change through them?”
It’s almost endearing to see the optimism I once had reflected in him. “Well,” I begin. “I was a teacher before I ended up here. And I tried my best to influence my young students. Every day, I’d teach them how to think critically about the world around them. But some days, it’d feel like an uphill battle. There’s so much working against these kids.”
I pause, looking down at my hands. It’s a struggle I’ve grappled with for a long time—wanting so badly to make a real impact, but feeling powerless to do anything.
Krakenos is silent as he considers my words. “In my world,” he says slowly, his deep voice thoughtful, “we value our teachers. They are held in the highest esteem, second only to royalty like myself.”
I look up at him, surprised by this revelation. “That’s…” A wistful smile tugging at my lips. “That sounds amazing.”
He nods. “It wasn’t always this way. Our society used to be more warlike. But my father started a tradition of change, of progress. We even stopped waging war against the other races of Mythos, instead focusing on our own growth and development.”
I’m almost envious that he comes from a society that values its people so deeply.
Krakenos suddenly lowers his gaze, his gills flaring as he sighs. “Although we were seeing great progress, the plague came and ravaged our people, and we fell into war again. My father… It was as if he needed someone to blame, and so we turned our focus back to petty skirmishes with the Saberkai and Drakari. I wanted to take over, to put an end to it, but I have no claim to the throne unless I can secure a female to ensure our bloodline.”
I look away, his words settling heavily. It’s a stark reminder of the gravity of our situation, of the challenges we both face. My heart aches for him, for the responsibility he carries as the heir to a crumbling kingdom.
“Do not let my plight burden you,” he says, though his gaze remains fixed on the rocky floor. “You have your own troubles back home, and I’ll make sure you return there safely.”
I bite back what I really want to say. I want to tell him that I’m not so sure I want to go back home anymore. The thought of returning to my old life feels less appealing with each passing moment in his presence.
But it’s ridiculous of me to even entertain the idea that I can make a difference in his world. Who am I to think I have that kind of power or influence? I’m just a lost soul from Earth, stumbling through life without a clear purpose.
I hug myself, trying to ward off the chill that’s crept in with the fading light. The storm outside howls, a haunting soundtrack to our heavy conversation. As the temperature drops, goosebumps rise on my arms. The weight of everything we’ve discussed settles over us like a thick, suffocating blanket.
“It’s getting late,” I whisper, hugging my arms around myself in a futile attempt to ward off the chilly air. “And cold. But I don’t think we’ll be able to start a fire in this dampness.” The ground is soggy beneath our feet, and any wood we might find would likely be too waterlogged to burn.
Krakenos nods and scans our surroundings with a calculating gaze. “You’re right. We should rest and conserve our energy for whatever challenges await us tomorrow.” His voice is steady and reassuring, but I can sense the underlying tension in his words. Neither of us knows what the future holds, but we both understand the importance of being prepared for anything.
I hesitate for a moment, biting my lip as I contemplate the idea that’s been forming in my mind. The thought of sleeping alone, vulnerable and exposed in this strange place… I muster up my courage, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.
“Maybe we could… sleep close together?” I suggest tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper. “You know, for warmth.” I feel my cheeks heating at the suggestion, but I force myself to meet his gaze steadily. It’s a practical solution, I tell myself. Nothing more.
Krakenos’s eyes widen slightly, but he nods. “Of course.” His voice is carefully neutral, but I swear I can see something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or maybe even relief.
We settle down on the makeshift bed he made for me earlier, our bodies nestling into each other comfortably as his heat seeps into me. I try to stay in the moment, ground myself as I feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back. There’s a comfort in it, a feeling of safety and security that I haven’t felt in a long time.
As I drift off to sleep, my mind wanders to the glimpses of vulnerability he showed me today, and the burden of his people’s survival resting on his shoulders.
In that moment, he feels less like an alien warrior and more like a kindred spirit—someone who understands the struggle of trying to make a difference in an unforgiving world.
And for the first time, I don’t feel alone.
I awaken to the crackle of a fire and the scent of something cooking. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up to see Krakenos tending to a small blaze, a few fish roasting on sticks. The aroma wafts over, making my stomach rumble. I realize just how hungry I am after yesterday.
“Good morning,” he says, glancing over at me with a smile. “The storm has passed, and I managed to catch us some breakfast while you were resting. I found some dry wood deeper in the cave too.”
I stretch, feeling the ache of sleeping on the hard ground as I look over the bounty. “Wow, looks like you’re a regular survivalist. I guess I lucked out by getting stranded with you.”
He chuckles. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you pick up a few skills along the way. It’s a necessity in a world as unforgiving as mine.” There’s a wistfulness in his voice, like he misses Mythos, even if times there were hard.
We eat in comfortable silence, and the fish is flaky and satisfying. It’s a simple meal, but out here, it tastes like a gourmet feast. As we finish, I study his face, the way the firelight illuminates his aquatic features. He’s so different, and yet there’s a familiarity to him that I can’t quite place.
“Thank you,” I say, meeting his gaze. “For everything. For protecting me. For opening up about your people. For listening to me prattle on about my life.” I laugh lightly. “I know I haven’t been the most cooperative or grateful, but… I do appreciate it. More than you know.” It’s hard for me to let my guard down, but something about Krakenos makes me want to try—makes me feel like I won’t regret it.
Krakenos shakes his head, a glimmer of amusement in his smile. “You’ve been a formidable challenge, Mia of Earth. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your spirit—it’s what drew me to you in the first place.”
I laugh again, nudging him with my shoulder. “Oh, so you like a challenge, do you?”
His eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my lips. I realize then how close we are, and my breath catches in my throat as the air between us feels charged.
And then, before I can second-guess myself, I close the distance between us and press my lips to his.
The kiss is electric, a spark igniting deep within me. His mouth is warm and smooth against mine, his touch sending shivers racing down my spine. I melt into him, all my doubts and fears momentarily forgotten as I lose myself in the sensation.
When we finally pull apart, my head’s spinning, and Krakenos’s dark eyes are wide, mirroring my own surprise. But there’s something else there too—a smoldering intensity that makes my skin tingle and my stomach flip.
His gaze rakes over me, hungry and possessive, and I feel my body respond, a liquid warmth pooling low in my stomach. I lick my lips, tasting him there, and watch as his eyes track the movement.
But then I notice a slight furrow in his sleek brow, a hint of worry that brings me crashing back to reality. We’re still trapped in this alien prison, still at the mercy of our captors. One kiss, no matter how earth-shattering, doesn’t change that.
Krakenos’s broad chest rises and falls. “Mia,” he says, his voice husky. “As much as I’d like to continue this, I need to confirm something that has been troubling me.”
