by Kelex
Llyr searched both their faces in silence. “I did use magic. To get here. To get my legs.” He lifted a hand and clasped it around the pendant he wore around his neck. “And this… it wards off the monsters.” He glanced down at it before tightening his hand again. “I can’t take it off… not until I return home. Else, they could find me and bring me back before my time here is over. I’m not ready to go home yet.”
“Tomorrow, we go to a white witch… to confirm what you’ve said,” Dagr said—seconds before a barmaid arrived with a tray full of food. By that point, Llyr’s appetite was quite diminished.
“Sorry ‘bout tha delay, gents. Tha cook sent sum extra bread ‘n wine ta warsh it all down wiff.” She placed the tray on the table before offering Llyr a glowering glare. “I hope ye kept yerselves entertained.”
“Something like that,” Oz said before tossing her a shining, golden coin.
The woman caught it with ease and tucked it into her ample bosom.
Llyr rubbed his hands together. “Is there somewhere I could clean my hands?”
The woman looked at him oddly. “What fer?”
“Before I eat,” Llyr said, confused. Did humans not clean before a meal?
“Shall I bring sum’tin fer warshin his majesty’s hands?”
Llyr froze. Did she realize he was royal? How could she?
“Yes, please,” Oz answered.
“Be right back,” the barmaid spat before disappearing.
“What did she mean by calling me ‘his majesty’?” Llyr asked, worried to hear the answer. Did they all know?
“She’s calling you a pain in the arse,” Oz replied.
“For desiring my hands to be clean before I eat? Do you realize all the things I’ve touched today?” Llyr asked, shocked at their indifference. “Do you not clean first?”
Oz and Dagr glanced at one another. “We do. Sometimes. In a place like this there usually are no options without putting people to a lot of trouble and causing distrust. Sometimes we must do as the natives do.”
Llyr sat back, worried he’d transgressed some unspoken rule. “I did not wish to cause trouble.”
Dagr and Oz stared at him strangely.
“I can tell you weren’t trying to cause trouble,” Oz said.
Soon enough the barmaid returned with a steaming wooden bowl. She handed it to Llyr along with a couple of cloths and a chunk of something she called soap. The woman departed with a huff. He sat the hot water down before him, then washed his hands and face off in the water. Taking a towel, he offered the water to Oz. He took the bowl and did the same before handing it to Dagr.
Llyr dried his hands. “I feel better now. You?”
As soon as they were cleaned up, the humans spread the deliciously scented food from the tray to the table. Dagr filled something they called a trencher for Llyr. When he first beheld the strips of pale-colored meat and chunks of orange mush, he worried another meal might be ruined for him.
“It’s roast chicken and sweet potatoes. Can’t go wrong with that,” Dagr said before tossing a piece of meat into his mouth.
Llyr lifted a tiny piece of the chicken before sniffing it. Then he licked it… and the hint of flavor was promising. He popped the small bite into his mouth and chewed… before a delighted sigh came to his lips. After that, he dug in with gusto, not realizing how hungry he was. The last he’d eaten was early the morning before. Not long after he started, Llyr swallowed the last of the roast chicken. He licked the juices from his fingers. “Oh my… that was the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. Do you think we could get another?”
The two men across the table eyed him with odd expressions on their faces.
“What?” Llyr asked, his whole body tensing. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Oz said. “No… I’ve simply never seen anyone eat… with such… vigor.”
Llyr had to admit he’d barely been eating the last few days—worry over Alphonse, his father, his potential escape—it had left him too anxious to eat more than a few bites. Add in his long swim to the surface and the energy he’d used up… well, he’d apparently been starving. He had seemed to inhale his supper.
“No, that’s not true,” Dagr murmured, his deep voice enough to send chills down Llyr’s spine. “Ambassador some-such from Aissia. He ate enough for twenty men.”
Oz shook his head. “Oh, I remember him. And he was reed thin. I don’t know where he put it all! His legs must have been hollow.”
Dagr smiled. “I was fearful he might end up eating his own fingers before he was done, confusing them for little sausages.”
Llyr’s eyes went wide. “Can someone do that? Eat their own fingers? Or have a hollow leg?” He reached down and pressed on both his legs. They seemed quite firm.
When he lifted his stare, both men eyed him again with the same peculiar expression as before. Suddenly, Oz let out a bark of laughter. Before he lifted his mug to his lips, he proclaimed, “You’re hilarious. You really are.”
Llyr forced a laugh. Was his ignorance of their world laughable? Then he reminded himself that they were skeptics. In their eyes, his life was all a delusion. How delusional would it seem when he sprouted a tail in a few days? Llyr almost wished time would speed up, just so he could see the looks on their faces. “I’m sorry if I ate more than my fair share. I haven’t had a decent meal in some time.”
Oz frowned. “Oh no! Eat all you wish… and if you wish for more, I’ll gladly have them bring another tray. No one walks away from my table hungry.”
“No. Thank you,” Llyr murmured.
Oz lean closer. “We honestly meant no harm in our comments. If you’re hungry, eat. Please.”
Llyr smiled, his stomach tightening. A pulse low in his belly radiated outward, liquid heat filling him. “No… honestly, the longer I sit here, the fuller I feel. I doubt there’s room for another bite.” He was hungry, but it wasn’t no longer food that would sate him.
“Are you sure?” Dagr asked, watching him close.
Llyr nodded. “Thank you, but I swear, I’m quite full now.”
Oz took another drink from his pint before eyeing Llyr. “I’ve been listening to your accent and trying to place it… yet I’m struggling. Where are you from?”
“I’ve told you where I’m from,” Llyr answered lazily. He didn’t want to say too much in mixed company. He observed the humans around him, fearful someone was listening, but they all seemed too involved in their own conversations. Fortunately.
Oz eyed him. “No… really. Where are you from?”
“Aegeaus. As I already said.”
“Where’s that?” Oz asked.
Llyr sat up straighter. Oz’s words and voice were changing. Each syllable grew a little longer. What was causing that change? “Under the sea.”
“We’ve traveled all over the world,” Oz murmured before leaning back on his bench. “I can usually place an accent with ease.” He cast a glance at Dagr. “You, my friend? Hazard a guess? Where is our merman from?”
“Shhhhh,” Llyr whispered. “Please.”
Dagr narrowed his eyes and gave a glare that made Llyr sure the man could see into his very soul. Llyr lifted his chin, daring the man to truly see him. All of him.
“Not from anywhere we’ve been,” Dagr replied, his voice low and deep. “But there’s no point in making a scene, Oz.”
“I’m not making a scene.” He leaned across the table and winked at Llyr. “He and I jumped aboard a ship heading to the Far West when I was barely fourteen.” Oz focused on Dagr and Llyr saw something warm shared between them. “He was not quite fifteen.” Oz turned his attentions back to Llyr. “Since then, we’ve been to nearly every port in the known world. Some in places where there are no official maps,” Oz added. He quieted and gave Llyr a thoughtful, seductive look. “I must know where you’re from. If it’s a place I’ve never been, I’ll have my next destination on the map.”
“Oz,” Dagr warned.
Oz gave him a
pointed stare. “One day. I refuse to be kept hostage forever.”
“Hostage?” Llyr asked, worried. Were the pair in some kind of trouble?
“It seems my sailing days are soon coming to an end. I’ve been called home, which Dagr has once again reminded me.” He offered a melancholy smile that Llyr understood down to his soul. “But I will find a way to return to the sea.” Oz waved a hand. “We should discuss something else.” He smiled alluringly at Llyr. “Like this attraction we experience whenever you’re around.”
“Oz,” Dagr warned.
Llyr fought the smile coming to his lips. The change of topic was welcome, even if it did leave him a little breathless. He was happy to discuss anything other than where he was from, especially if it was admission about their desire for him. A thread of need slid up Llyr’s spine. More of his slick eased from his cheeks—which felt odd out of the water. He then realized it would dampen his dry clothes if it continued. I wonder what omegas of this world do to hide their desires.
“Attraction? Are you saying you’re both attracted to me?” He’d scarce been able to get the words out of his mouth. They’d sounded throaty and desperate to his own ears. Had the two men heard that desperation?
“Well, if you have to ask, you must not be very observant.” Oz leaned closer before he trailed his fingers over Llyr’s cheek.
“This isn’t the place,” Dagr warned under his breath.
“Damn them if they have a problem,” Oz snapped under his breath. The scent of ale washed over Llyr’s face as he talked. “I want who I want. They can be damned.”
“You’ve had too much to drink,” Dagr spat under his breath. “Otherwise, you’d be more careful in public.”
Oz yanked his hand away. He regarded Llyr. “I always forget myself when there’s a pretty man in front of me.”
Llyr glanced at Dagr. “Why must you be careful in public?”
Dagr sighed. “A man… enjoying the company of another man?”
Llyr was confused. “And?”
Dagr eyed him. “Let me guess… under the sea, that’s allowed?”
“Allowed? Of course.” Llyr gasped. “Is it not here?”
“I need to become a merman,” Oz whispered. “I think I’d like it better down there.”
“If only you were a merman,” Llyr said. He glanced at Dagr, smiling. “You’d both be so handsome with tails.”
Dagr observed him warily. “As I was saying before dinner arrived—tomorrow morning, we’re headed to see a white witch. You’re coming with us.”
Llyr turned his attention to Dagr. “Do you think she can help?”
“She can hopefully tell us if you’ve got us under a love spell,” Dagr replied.
“A love spell? I think not.”
“Why else would we have this compulsion toward you?”
Llyr smiled. Just barely. “And if you’re not under a spell?”
“It has to be a spell,” Dagr replied. “There’s no explanation why we would have this need to protect you.”
“To claim you,” Oz added.
Llyr wriggled in his seat, his body ripening at their words. The idea had crept into his mind more and more… but he’d dismissed it. Until he heard what it was they’d experienced. “You could be bound to me…”
Both men stared at him, their mouths and eyes wide open.
Dagr rose to his feet. “This has all become a bit more than I’m capable of listening to tonight. I think it’s time we said goodnight.”
“Are we going upstairs?” Llyr asked, hopeful.
“We? No. You’re going upstairs,” Dagr said. “Oz and I are going back to the ship.”
“I refuse to spend another night on the ship,” Oz spat. “I paid for a bed here, and we’ll damned well use it.”
“You’ve had too much to drink,” Dagr said.
“Maybe you’ve had too little,” Oz replied sarcastically.
The two men glared at one another a moment as the tavern quieted around them.
“I could go back to the ship,” Llyr offered, keeping his voice low. He hated seeing the two at odds. “I had no plans to cause problems here. And it’s apparent I’ve done just that.”
Both men eyed him before Oz waved one of his men over.
“Mr. Tyler—can you please escort Llyr back to the ship? He can use my quarters this evening,” Oz said.
“Don’t bother,” Dagr said. “I think I’ll escort him myself. I’ll sleep better in my own bed tonight.”
“Dag,” Oz crooned. “Tonight is supposed to be—”
“It’s already too late for that, Oz,” Dagr said before offering Llyr his arm.
Llyr was unsure what he should do. He’d torn two loving men apart. He hated himself for it. After a moment, he took Dagr’s arm and rose from the bench. He could feel Oz’s stare burning holes in their backs as they departed.
This wasn’t the way he’d envisioned the night going.
Not at all.
Guilt churned in his gut with every step toward the exit.
5
The night air was cool as they strode outside the tavern and headed for the docks. Dagr’s mind was at war—not only was he fighting the attraction he had for Llyr but struggling with the tension tormenting him and Oz. They never fought. Rarely had a cross word for one another. Dagr looked down at the man who was to blame for it all.
To blame?
Maybe that was a bit too simple and allowed both he and Oz off the hook too easily. They were gentlemen. They were supposed to be in control of themselves. Blaming another for their bad behavior was lazy and unchivalrous. That being said—none of this had started happening until Llyr had arrived, so he did play a role in the debacle.
Heavy silence hung between them. Only the sounds offshore and the cadenced clicks of their steps along the cobblestoned street sounded. A misty fog rolled in from the water, giving the night a macabre mood that was too akin to his temperament.
“I’m sorry,” Llyr said suddenly, dragging him from his contemplations. “I hate that I’ve caused you and Oz to argue.”
“I’m not sure I’d call what happened an argument. I simply didn’t wish to be in his company tonight. Not like that.” There were so few nights left. He almost felt guilty for walking away. But that wasn’t the way he wished to spend a night in Oz’s arms.
“Because of me,” Llyr added.
Dagr clenched his jaw, aspiring to agree. Saying so would get them nowhere.
“He wants me here, and you do not.”
Dagr gazed down at the top of Llyr’s head. Shrouded moonlight and the slight illumination from the street light they passed gave him a ghostly appearance. “I never said I didn’t want you here.”
“You didn’t have to,” Llyr scoffed. “Your dislike rolls off you in waves.”
Dagr paused in his step and focused on Llyr. “I never said I disliked you, either.” No, the problem was that he cared far more for Llyr than he wished to.
Llyr stopped a couple of steps away and turned to face him. The candlelight from the street washed over the man, the flickering of the flame casting shadows and light in a dance over his lovely face. It only seemed to add to his beauty.
And caused Dagr’s body respond in ways that shocked him.
“There was no need to tell me. It’s obvious you dislike my presence.”
Dagr yearned to tell Llyr how much he did enjoy the man’s presence—but he was still unsure of their supposed merman’s motives. Instead, he remained silent, fearful he’d open his mouth and the wrong words would come out.
“I’ll leave on the morrow,” Llyr finally said, once the silence grew too heavy. “Once the sun is up. And you won’t have me to worry about… or get in the way. Just know, I never meant to cause strife. Quite the opposite. I can tell you two care deeply for one another, and I would never do anything to tear that asunder.”
Dagr took a step forward, closing the gap. He grabbed ahold of Llyr’s arm and dragged the man closer. “You’ll go nowhere
.”
Llyr’s stare lifted to his, a soft hiss coming from his soft, pink lips. Was it fear in his eyes? Or was it lust? Maybe it was both… Dagr was unsure.
All he grasped was that he needed…
“Am I your prisoner?” Llyr asked softly, his body trembling ever so slightly.
His cock was hard as stone against Llyr’s belly—and he nearly moaned for the sensation of that barest of touches. “No… you’re no prisoner. We… we need to see the witch in the morning. Then we’ll have our answers.”
“Does it really matter anymore?” Llyr asked. “It’s obvious I’m in the way.”
“Afraid we’ll find you’re using a spell after all?” Dagr asked, one brow rising.
Llyr frowned, shaking his head. “I’m not using one.” His hand absently wrapped around the pendant he wore about his neck.
Dagr moved Llyr’s hand out of the way and took the pendant into his own hand.
“Please don’t,” Llyr said, jerking back.
The leather ties holding the pendant in place fell away, leaving the necklace in Dagr’s hand.
“Oh no,” Llyr cried, reaching for it.
Dagr took his hand away. “There are no such things as monsters—and for you to say such a thing to Oz—it’s torture. Or are you trying to torment him?”
Llyr fought to get the pendant back. “There are monsters! Please!”
Dagr shook his head… but as he was handing the pendant back, a bloodcurdling growl sounded off the water. It washed in with the salty breeze, chilling the blood in his veins. He neared the water’s edge, looking out onto the surface. “What was that?”
Another ear-piercing cry rent the air. Goose bumps skittered along Dagr’s arms. He reached for his pistol as another cry sounded. Llyr was suddenly at his side as another roar rolled in, the mist and fog thicker. Dagr searched the haze, unnerved. There, in the depths, Dagr sensed something staring at him. He was the prey to some kind of hunter—one the likes he’d never known.
The moans and cries grew in volume and number, until it seemed as if they grew closer. Magic came like a smothering cloud, threatening to choke him. He tried to draw air into his lungs and struggled.