Chapter 12: Octavius
ISAT THERE LONG after she finished speaking. Throughout her story, I didn’t move or interrupt; I just stayed there in the sand with her, listening, trying to process it all as every word replayed in my mind.
Aaron.The ex.That was where this all started. A man I had never met and already despised.
I wasn’t sure what fueled my hatred more—hearing how much she had once loved him, or knowing how thoroughly that bastard had ruined her life. She had cared about him enough to sacrifice herself, to walk willingly into something she didn’t fully understand just to help him pay off his gambling debts. Because she thought it would help him. Because she had the kind of heart that gave without question. And that was exactly what had led her straight into Zavier’s gambling den and right into his clutches.
Just thinking about it made something dark and violent twist inside me. It made me want to rip them both apart, limb from limb. Four limbs each, eight tentacles...fuck, it would be so easy.Because imagining her in a place like that—a place that thrived on desperation, on kind hearts being too naïve to see the truth behind the people they trusted—it filled me with a kind of fury I could barely contain.
Six months.
That was what she had believed. Six months of work in exchange for clearing a debt Aaron had accumulated. And somewhere along the way, it seemed Zavier had taken a liking to Kara. I couldn’t blame him for that. She wasn’t just beautiful on the outside, but even more so within. Because beneath it all, her heart glowed brighter than any emotion I had ever drained into the sea.
Of course he had wanted her. What man or woman wouldn’t? And Kara... Kara had agreed, all while Aaron hadn’t even blinked as she signed that contract.
As she spoke, more layers unraveled, each one worse than the last, and my heart broke for her. While she had been sacrificing herself for Aaron’s mistakes, while she had been trapped in that place, enduring whatever Zavier demanded, he had been cheating on her the entire time. Taking advantage of her loyalty and her belief that what she was doing mattered, when in reality, it hadn’t. Not to him, anyway.
And then came the realization that the contract hadn’t even been what she thought it was. Six years was what she had actually agreed to, not six months like Aaron had told her. And all the while, that piece of shit never tried to come back for her, never even tried to pull her out of that hellhole. There was no way he didn’t know what went on in places like that, not with a debt that large, not without spending enough time there himself to understand exactly what he had handed her over to. And still... he left her there to suffer.
I exhaled slowly through my nose, my hands curling into fists at my sides.She was trapped.That was the word that kept repeating in my mind, over and over again. Because that was exactly what it had been from the moment she signed that contract.
And then... it got worse.
The longer she stayed, the more she began to understand what that place really was, what Zavier really was, and the kind of “work” he expected from her. Not just from him, no, that would have been too simple, but from anyone who asked, anyone with a large enough wallet.
My teeth ground together at that, because I could hear it in her voice when she said it. The way she tried to keep it controlled, like it didn’t affect her as much as it clearly did. But I could feel it anyway, the shame and disgust threaded through every word. And now I understood that was part of what I had sensed from her in that first session, and again tonight. Pain. Anger, fear, and a suffocating dose of shame, not just for the choices she had made, but for the ones she hadn’t been able to make.
I knew men like Zavier, and I understood exactly what game he was trying to play with her. He had kept her alone and fearful deliberately, so she wouldn’t fight back. He had worn down her sense of self until she didn’t believe she could leave, until she didn’t even think she deserved to.
I dragged a hand down my face, clenching my eyes shut, trying to contain the anger building inside me. Because right now, she didn’t need a man ready to burn the world for her, she needed someone to hold her through the flames instead.
She had explained how there was a time she tried to leave, when she tried to outsmart Zavier at his own game. After years of being there, she had learned how to play poker, and now it made sense why she knew it so well, why it almost felt like a comfort to her. Because it had been the one thing that almost set her free.
Almost.
A few years ago, she had challenged him to a game. If she won, the contract was void and she would be free. But ifhewon, she agreed to stay forever. She had been confident in her skills, and from our own games, I knew she was good. She hadn’t just learned poker, she had studied it.Studied him.She had watched Zavier for years while serving in that den, memorizing his tells, the way he moved, the way he bet, the patterns he relied on. She had gone into that game believing she knew enough to beat him.
But it hadn’t mattered. Just like she had told me that first night she taught me, poker was still a game of luck, and luck hadn’t been on her side that night. Or maybe it had and Zavier had simply taken it from her instead. She suspected he cheated, but she couldn’t prove it, and that had been enough to trap her into the contract permanently, sealed in blood and fortified by borrowed magic from some of his clients.
After that, there had been no hope left for her in that place, only survival and endurance. And even though she hadn’t gone into graphic detail about what had been expected and demanded of her, I didn’t need her to. I could already imagine, and that was enough.
Everything had been final for her, or at least that’s what she had believed... until she found a way out. She told me about the pearl, about the money, about stealing both from the card sharks and running the moment she had the chance.
I opened my eyes again, my gaze shifting back to her where she sat in front of me, small against the vast stretch of the cove, the same woman who had walked into my parlor weeks ago pretending to be something she wasn’t. And now it all made sense.
Every reaction. Every hesitation, like she was constantly waiting to be discovered and thrown out of the only place that had ever felt remotely safe. I understood now why she insisted on doing things on her own, afraid that accepting anything would come with a cost she would eventually have to pay. And the way she had responded to my touch that first night, like relief had been something so unfamiliar to her because she had been carrying all of those painful emotions for years.
And even now—here, in a place meant to be hidden, protected—she wasn’t free. Because she was still waiting. Still bracing herself, like at any moment someone might come for her and drag her back to that den and back to that life.
No.That wasn’t fucking happening.Not while I was breathing.
I could feel the anger rising again, clawing its way up my chest, and I had to force it down, reminding myself that wasn’t what she needed right now, even if it was damn near impossible to ignore.
Closing the space between us, I pulled her into my arms. My tentacles moved with me, gathering her close as carefully as I could, like she might break if I held her too tightly but slip away if I didn’t hold her tightly enough. She folded into me without resistance, like she had been waiting for it, her body still trembling faintly from everything she had just shared.
And as I held her, I felt it all. My tentacles moved on instinct, wrapping around her, not to restrain but to comfort and keep her steady as I drew what I could from her, easing the worst of everything still clinging to her.
“You didn’t deserve that,” I murmured, leaning closer. “Any of it. I’m so sorry someone did that to you, for what you’ve lived through and what you were forced into.” My hold on her tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make sure she felt it, felt that I meant every word.
