Pregnant With Their Babes
Page 5
Of course, his unwed elder brothers were ahead of him in the line of succession—so the chance at the crown was infinitesimal—yet if anything ever happened to Amyr or Eammon, Llyr would inherit the crown. His husband would have the chance to influence the kingdom and hold power through him.
Even if Llyr didn’t hold the Crown of Aegeaus, his husband would have opportunities to gain titles, limited power, and wealth. That prospect was apparently enticing enough to tempt the younger sons of great houses. Some had shown their lusts in any number of ways when they’d gotten him alone and away from his keeper.
But always, he knew what they truly sought.
Power.
That wasn’t the case with Oz and Dagr. These two males had simply wanted. Without knowing he was a prince under the sea. There was something especially empowering in his anonymity.
He crept closer to the cabin’s door and heard the murmur of their deep voices outside. Llyr took a few more steps, curious. A shiver raced down his spine as the sound deepened. Both Oz and Dagr had deep, powerful voices that had sent tendrils of lust through him from the moment he’d opened his eyes. Pressing his ear to the door, he wondered if they discussed him.
So we both agree to keep hands off Llyr?
Whipping his head back, Llyr wrinkled his nose. He didn’t like the idea. Not at all. He’d come to the surface to experience the human world. What was the most intimate of experiences he could have on two legs? He would bed them. Virgin or not, he could manage a seduction.
Couldn’t he?
Of course he could.
Though, I’d be ruined.
A slow, sultry smile came to his lips. I’d be ruined.
As an omega prince, he was expected to come to the marriage bed unclaimed. Bedding Dagr or Oz could destroy his father’s plans. If they learned the truth, Alphonse’s parents could never wish him married off to their brat, could they? Llyr’s smile grew as he realized these men were exactly what he needed. The Enchantress had been right. Seven days was all he truly required.
If he could get them to touch him.
Again, he pressed himself closer to the door and listened in on their conversation.
If he’s unbalanced or experienced a blow to the head—I guess we should find someone to check him over. Too bad our physician got off at the last port. I’m sure there’s one at the next port. We can see what the doctor thinks of Llyr’s crazy story.
Llyr’s head popped up. Unbalanced? How dare they!
Their doubts could prove problematic in his planned seduction—not that he had a plan, per se. He stormed across the cabin—nearly falling midway. Glancing down at his legs, he realized he’d yet to take more than a fleeting moment to investigate his new appendages. Llyr turned this way and that in the illumination coming from the lanterns and spied the pale skin below. Wriggling his toes, he chuckled at the sensation of them.
When he’d first noticed his cock and balls were no longer inside their hidden pouch within his tail, the sight had been a bit of a shock. They merely hung there, soft and in full sight of the gods and all—or jutting forward, hardened and seeking attention.
No wonder humans wear clothes!
Already he missed the iridescent blues and greens of his tail and fins, but they would soon return. Seven days… only seven days. And one of those was already coming to an end.
Laughter burst from him. He’d actually made it.
Reaching for the pendant still hanging about his neck, he clasped it and hoped it would truly keep the monsters at bay and give him time to do what needed to be done.
He’d use this new body of his to lure the humans into becoming his salvation…
One way or another, he was going to be ruined.
While the port town’s physician checked Llyr over, Oz paced along the rented room he and Dagr had taken at the inn. Below stairs, he could hear the revelry of his men filling the tavern with song and their bellies with drink and good food. Before all this, he’d planned to join them, with Dagr at his side. A celebration to end all celebrations. Instead, Oz had a potentially insane drowning victim who thought he was a merman to care for.
One that had his cock aching and his nerves raw. He eyed Dagr and saw the man appeared equally worn thin. Even after the quick relief they’d given each other earlier in the evening, they still seemed to ride the edge of insanity together.
Mine.
The word still whispered and gnawed inside his stomach. Mine.
This man was not his. If any was, it was Dagr.
After a few more lengths of Oz’s pacing, the doctor finally turned to them. “I don’t see any long-term ill effects from his seafaring adventure.”
“But let him tell you the tales of him being a merman,” Dagr offered. “He obviously hit his head. He’s delusional.”
“A merman?” Llyr scrunched up his nose, looking much too cute for a liar. “Whatever are you talking about? You sound positively unbalanced.”
“He did say it,” Oz spoke up, glaring at Llyr. “I was there, too.”
Llyr eyed the physician. “I have no idea what they’re up to—obviously they’re trying to make me seem deranged. Maybe you should check their heads for bumps.”
Oz’s mouth dropped open, but he shut it. If they forced the topic, it would only cause them to sound like the ridiculous ones. Casting a look at Dagr, he saw indignation in his friend’s eyes—but he shook his head to curb an argument.
The doctor tossed the last few of his tools back into his bag. “Gargle with salt water to help the throat. Maybe some honey tea, too. That should fix ye right up.” He closed his bag and lifted it from the bed. “Some rest won’t be too bad, neither.”
“Thank you,” Llyr said, smiling up at the doctor.
The physician spun to face Oz and Dagr before putting his hand out. “For my time?”
Oz sighed before brandishing a coin. Before he rested it in the man’s palm he posed a question. “Have you heard of anyone missing from the area?” He glanced at Llyr before focusing back on the doctor. “Any bandits running from the law?”
“Nay,” the doctor answered. “But ye best be askin’ the constable. He usually comes in below for a pint most ev’nings. ‘Round nine, as I hear it.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Oz said, placing the coin in the man’s palm.
“Aye, lads. Have a fine one,” the man said before sauntering out with the gait of a man too old to be making house calls for much longer.
Oz turned his attention to Llyr as the door closed. “We sounded unbalanced? You clearly said you were a merman.”
“Shhh,” Llyr commanded with an arrogant tilt to his chin. The expression on their merman’s face shouldn’t have induced Oz’s desire to kiss those provocative pink lips, but he did.
Llyr clicked his tongue, as if scolding a child. “I’ve heard the horror stories of what humans do to merfolk when they’re captured. You don’t need to tell everyone what I am. I trusted you with my secret… and I demand you keep it.”
“You demand…?” Oz’s eyes went wide as he glared at their supposed merman. He struggled to keep the scowl—not when the man looked too delicious for any anger. Before he could ask why Llyr had felt they were capable of the handling the truth when he feared being found out, Dagr interrupted him.
“You’re off your chump, you are,” Dagr declared. He shook his head and focused on Oz. “Nuttier than a foraging squirrel in autumn.”
“In six days I can prove what I am,” Llyr stated. “Then there’ll be no doubts that I am quite sane. My tail is a beautiful shade of blue green.”
“Like your eyes,” Dagr murmured.
Oz spun to meet Dagr’s gaze, lifting a brow. Dagr caught his meaning and closed his eyes a moment, seeming to gather himself.
“Too bad we won’t be around in six days to see it,” Dagr spat once he reopened them.
Oz sensed Dagr was being insincere, but still he gasped inwardly. Neither of them had said anything about parting ways. Yes, they’d m
ade a pact to stay away from Llyr. Distance would be smart, but the hell if he wanted that.
Llyr eyed Dagr, then Oz, fear growing in the swirling depths of his eyes. “Why wouldn’t you both see it? Do you plan to abandon me here? With nothing… knowing no one… without a means to protect myself?”
Oz clenched his teeth, yearning to surrender to his need and claim the man as his body demanded. But he had to remember Llyr’s motives were unclear. He could be a danger to them both. We promised each other to stay away. “I must return home. You can remain in this room while we’re in port, and I’ll secure passage on a ship to wherever you wish to go.”
Llyr’s eyes grew ever wider, his pale skin going white. “But what if where I want to go is with you?”
“You’re unable to go where we’re going,” Dagr replied.
Oz lifted his stare to see Llyr’s reaction to that. Dagr was right. They were late enough as it was. His father was already furious they weren’t home already. There was no time to dally with an uninvited guest.
Their merman rose from the bed, his face a mask of terror. “I have no knowledge of this world. I told you what I was. I thought you would aid me in my travels here.”
“Help you with what exactly?” Oz asked.
Llyr gazed over one shoulder and eyed Dagr before focusing back on Oz. “I need protection for the six remaining days I have left.” He glanced at Dagr again. “One of you must be willing to lend me assistance. I sense you’re both honorable men. Please… I’m at your mercy.”
Oz clenched his jaw, fighting off the spiraling need filling him. His gaze went to Dagr’s. His lover’s face was void of emotion—as it often was when others were around. No one knew how to hide what he was thinking better than his Dagr.
Only in moments like this it left him without guidance. “Dagr and I will… discuss this. Alone. You remain here. I’ll have food and drink sent up for your dinner in a bit.”
“You’ll leave me a prisoner in this room?”
Oz shook his head. “I never said you were a prisoner here. You’re free to. If you’re not here when we come back from our discussion, we’ll assume you made our choice for us.”
Llyr looked utterly defeated. “Could I not come down and listen to the men sing? They sound as if they’re having so much fun.”
Oz sighed. “You heard the doctor. You need rest. Not that you’ll get much with them downstairs, but rest you need.” He eyed the door and then concentrated on Dagr. “Coming?”
Dagr glanced at Llyr one last time before trailing behind Oz and on down the hall. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Oz cracked his neck a time or two before grabbing a pint of ale from a passing barmaid. She spun to chastise him, but smiled instead when she saw his face.
“Well, I’ll be… my Ozzy is back again.”
Oz grinned down at her. “Hello, Myra… how’ve you been?”
“Better now that I’ve seen that handsome face of yers,” Myra said before giving him a half hug, turning her tray away. “And this gent of yers,” she murmured before smiling at Dagr. “Commander… how are ya, m’love?”
Dagr gave her a kiss to her ample cheek. “Happy to see such a welcoming face after too long at sea.”
Myra handed Dagr another of the pints from her tray. “Grab yerself a table. Will you be needing a meal?”
“Yes, but not now. Also, there’s someone in our room who needs a meal and drink,” Oz murmured. He pulled out a coin and handed it over. “I hear the constable should be coming in soon. Make sure he finds his way to our table?”
Myra tucked the coin into her plentiful bosom and nodded. “Aye that. Anything else, m’love?”
“Just keep the ale flowing,” Oz said.
“Yessir!” she saluted before taking her tray through the crowd.
He and Dagr wended their way through the nearly full tavern and found one of the last empty tables along the back wall. Sitting side by side, they both scanned the crowd in silence. Oz replayed the scene they’d scarcely had moments before, realizing they had botched the conversation.
“You were hard on him,” Oz finally said.
“It nearly killed me,” Dagr replied. “But we agreed we needed to keep hands off. I doubt either of us will be able to adhere to that if he remains. Distance is what we need.”
“I know you’re right.” He slanted his gaze to the side. “But do you really think we’d be able to sail away without him?”
Dagr was silent a moment. “No. I knew it as soon as the words were out of my mouth. But we must. You understand that as well as I do.”
Oz rested his head back against the wall, watching his men enjoying themselves across the tavern. “Perhaps it’ll be good to let him sweat a little. If he thinks we’re leaving him, he might become desperate and show his hand—that is, if he’s up to something.”
“We should’ve questioned him more,” Dagr stated before taking a drink from his pint.
“You wanted to hear more of his fantasies from under the sea?”
Dagr scoffed. “No… but I think we should find out more about this sorceress of his. There is magic surrounding him. Perhaps it’s some kind of love spell I’ve never seen before.”
“It’s a rather specific spell if that’s what it is. The doctor was unaffected,” Oz replied. “None of the men have suffered, either. Only you and I. We’re the only fools so far.”
“We were the first two to touch him,” Dagr countered.
“True, but I thought those spells affected everyone around the one with the spell? The crew was close enough to feel the effects of magic. As was the doctor—the man touched Llyr with no effect.”
“The doctor is ancient. Who knows if his parts would work enough to be affected.”
Oz snickered, and that drew out a warm chuckle from Dagr. The man was much more somber than when they were young. Oz was fairly sure he hadn’t heard the sound since he’d been summoned home, at the very least. He missed Dagr’s laughter.
Dearly.
He turned his attention to the man who held his heart, catching the fading remnants of that smile. He saw a hint of the younger version of Dagr, full of hope, a whole future laid out before them. Suddenly, they were insulated, the only two there in that moment. The outside world ceased to exist.
“I’m going to miss this. Moments when we’re surrounded by chaos and still it’s only you and me. The whole world fades away, and all I can see is you.”
Dagr tilted his head and captured Oz’s gaze.
Twenty plus years and the man could still take his breath away. Soon, he’d lose that, and the fact only brought a mixture of rage, sorrow, and regret to bear. “I wish it could be you and me forever.”
A hint of a shine came to Dagr’s eyes. “Me, too.”
Oz sighed and stared away. The pain in Dagr’s eyes… or maybe it was more their squandered chances…
He simply couldn’t bear to look at it.
“I desire to take you upstairs… hold you in my arms… and never let go.”
Oz grinned. “If only.” He cast a glance Dagr’s way before glancing back to the crowd. “We have an interloper in our bed that we’re not allowed to touch. Remember?”
“I’m well aware.”
“I was angry at you for trying to send him away,” Oz admitted. “And in the same moment was glad you had the strength to do it. I doubt that I could’ve. Even now I want to race up those stairs and drag him close.”
“You’re infinitely stronger than I.”
Oz sneered. “So you think.”
“So I know,” Dagr murmured. “One day you’ll know it, too.”
Oz focused on Dagr—who turned slightly to meet that stare.
“Ya wished ta speak ta me, gents?”
Dagr was loath to tear his gaze from Oz, but he did. A broad man carrying a lantern and long, iron hammer stood before them. From sheer size and power, he’d guess it was the town’s blacksmith—but from the other accoutrements, he had another guess. “You’re the co
nstable, I gather?”
“I am. And tha smithy. If ye or yer ship have needs o’one.”
Dagr smiled inwardly to have his guess confirmed.
“I wouldn’t want to be a criminal and cross your path. Will you have a pint with us?” Oz asked, waving Myra over.
“If yer buyin’, I will.” The constable lowered his lantern and hammer to the table with a clatter and a groan from the wood. “And trust me—me size only attracts those who see me as a challenge. Tha bigger they are, tha harder they fall, they say. Thankfully fer me, no one’s been able ta fell me since I were a lad.”
“I bet,” Dagr replied, eyeing the mountain of a man.
After a quick round of introductions, Myra soon brought the constable an ale, refilled Oz’s empty cup, and they got down to business.
“We just arrived at port earlier this evening—after finding a drowning man near the coast not far from here,” Dagr explained.
“A drowning man? What’s his name?”
“Llyr,” Dagr answered.
“Family name?” the constable asked.
“Llyr is all he’s told us,” Oz offered. “Is there anyone missing from the area?”
“Or on the run from the law?” Dagr added.
“Can’t say I’ve heard tha name b’fore. Description?”
“Tall and lean. Long, curling red hair. Fair. Strange blue-green eyes. A shell birthmark on his shoulder. Strange tattoos on one arm,” Oz prattled off. “Seems to think he’s a merman come ashore.”
“A merman?” the constable asked before letting out a roar of laughter that made it hard not to smile slightly. “Does he have a tail, too?”
“No. Claims a sea witch gave him a spell to give him legs for seven days.”
“Only seven days?” the constable asked. “That’s not much time ta get inta proper trouble, eh?” He took another drink from his pint and then wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve. “Rings no bells, gentlemen. No one’s gone missin’ that I’m aware of. Can’t say that I know of any bandits traveling about our province, neither. Most of tha problems we have are drunken sailors and tha occasional theft—usually perpetrated by one o’tha habitual offenders. Yer merman fits none o’their descriptions. We have no raving loons in tha area, neither.”