Pregnant With Their Babes

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Pregnant With Their Babes Page 8

by Kelex


  “We have to go!” Llyr cried as he took the pendant from Dagr’s hand. He tied it quickly before he grabbed Dagr’s hand and tugged.

  Dagr let the man drag him away, sensing he was little match for whatever was in that fog. He soon took the lead, racing them back toward the ship—though he worried that might be unsafe, as well. As soon as they were once again on board, he searched behind them.

  The heavy fog had faded some. The ear-piercing screams had faded. In the distance, long shadows fell back, drifting away. Dagr stood there, working to catch his breath and trying to decide if he’d actually seen and heard the things he had.

  All was silent once more—except for their men coming out to check who had boarded. He waved the pair away.

  “What was that?” Dagr demanded, spinning to eye Llyr. And the pendant now back around his neck.

  Llyr clutched the jewelry close. “I told you this kept the monsters at bay. If they find me, they’ll drag me back down—and I’ll never be free again.”

  One thing was clear. Llyr truly believed the words he spoke. No one could fake the level of terror he saw in Llyr’s expression. Believed or not, Dagr refused to turn his back to that fear. He opened his arms. Llyr rushed into them, shaking violently.

  “It’s okay,” Dagr whispered, truly unsure if it was or not. He rubbed his palm down the man’s back, the familiar lust beginning to grow thicker than his fear. “It’s all quiet now. We’re okay. We made it back to the ship.”

  Llyr lifted his face to Dagr. Moonlight washed over him, flooding him with ethereal allure. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

  Dagr tensed. If he spent the night too close, he was liable to cross the line. He refused to do that—especially not without Oz beside him. “I doubt that that’s a good idea.”

  “Until I fall asleep?” Llyr shivered in his arms. “Please.” He shook his head slightly, his curls sliding over his shoulders. “Though, that might take a while tonight.”

  Dagr nodded soundlessly before leading Llyr back to Oz’s cabin. After lighting one of the lanterns, he spun to see Llyr letting his borrowed clothing slip to the floor.

  He gasped inwardly, trying to pull his gaze away from the man’s nudity.

  He failed.

  Thankfully, Llyr seemed in no mood for seduction. Dagr was unsure he’d be able to control himself if that hadn’t been the case. Llyr crawled under the blankets of Oz’s bed and laid his head down. Glancing up to Dagr, he smiled wanly. “Thank you.”

  Dagr kicked the lone chair in the room nearer to the bed and took a seat. Unable to stop himself, he leaned closer and tucked a few errant strands of copper curls behind Llyr’s shell of an ear. “You’re welcome.”

  Llyr reached out a hand and took hold of Dagr’s before letting his eyelids drift closed. He held on tight—so tight. Llyr’s rapid heartbeat pulsed through his palm. It sparked an energy that raced up his arm, radiating from the place where their hands clasped. He stared down, Llyr’s small, alabaster palm tucked into his larger, brown one. They looked and felt so right together.

  In time, the racing of Llyr’s heart slowed. A while later, his hand loosened and his breathing slowed. When Llyr let go and turned, curling into a ball under the covers, Dagr mourned the loss of physical connection. He sat there for long minutes, warring within himself. Seeing himself sloughing off his clothing and slinking under the covers to cuddle the man in sleep. Would Llyr curl into his embrace?

  Could he let Llyr go when it was over?

  A spell. It has to be a spell.

  Dagr bit the inside of his cheek to fight the growing need tenting his pants. When it was apparent that their merman was asleep, he dragged himself to his own cabin. As he lay in his own bed, he gazed up at the ceiling, sure he wouldn’t sleep a wink all night.

  Sadly, he was right.

  All he could see was the pain and longing in Oz’s eyes as he’d walked away. All he could think about was their time coming to an end. And all he could feel was the aching of his cock, wanting a man neither of them should want.

  Later, when the sky turned gray, he rose from the narrow cot… knowing he’d find no rest.

  Oz’s head ached with each pulse of his heart. He rolled over in the empty bed—the light from the lone window in the room much too bright. As he lifted his head and realized he was quite alone, memories of the night before tumbled back into his mind, reminding him how large an ass he’d been—driving away the very man he craved there with him. He rubbed his palm along the empty side of the bed, soaking in the coolness of the sheet.

  Tormenting himself. Dagr should’ve been lying beside there, warming him.

  Not only had he sent Dagr away, but Llyr, too. Visions of them strolling out the night before screamed in his head. That image had only caused him to drink more before stumbling up to his room alone.

  What had occurred on the ship? Had Dagr taken Llyr to his bed?

  Pain lanced inside his chest at the thought—but a revelation hit him. Maybe Llyr could be the best thing for Dagr. Their love affair was coming to an end. They would both be miserable. Dagr deserved someone to take that pain away.

  Maybe it could be Llyr.

  If the witch doesn’t give us bad news.

  He lay there another moment, envisioning Llyr and Dagr together. They would be so attractive, Llyr’s pale, cool beauty in sharp contrast to Dagr’s warm, tawny good looks. Llyr would fit perfectly against his Dagr.

  Oz could barely breathe from the imagining of it.

  Forcing himself up, he sat and placed his bare feet on the cold wooden floor. It was a nice shock to his system, waking him a bit more. After washing and dressing, he left the inn and headed toward the docks. Once on board, he found Dagr giving Mr. Tyler a list of orders to get the men working throughout the day. He came to a stop beside Dagr, and sensed his lover was stressed.

  “Anything you wish to add, Captain?” Dagr asked stoically.

  Oz let his stare roll over Dagr’s handsome features—cross or not, his friend was the most attractive of men. He’d never met Dagr’s equal. And never would. “I’m sure you’ve done an exemplary job, as usual, Commander.”

  Dagr offered Oz a salute before spinning to stalk off.

  “Dag—wait,” he called, following behind.

  Dagr persisted until they were almost at his cabin’s door. Oz’s mind wandered, wondering what went on inside the night before and he was sick from the thought. He didn’t wish to know. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Dagr’s glare softened some. “For?”

  “Being an asshole?”

  Dagr’s jaw tensed.

  “I don’t know what to do about Llyr… and I reacted poorly. I’m already on edge with what I’m facing.” He paused a moment, the words rushing out too fast. Oz meant every one of them… and he refused to let them pour out without meaning. “I love you. With all my heart. I never wished to push you away. I handled a bad situation poorly.”

  “Yes. You did.”

  “Can you forgive me?” Oz whispered.

  Dagr eyed him, silent. After a few seconds, he let out a low breath of air on a sigh. “Neither of us has been ourselves since he came on board.”

  Oz glanced at his door again, a bevy of images screaming through his hungover brain. “No. We most definitely haven’t.”

  Dagr scoffed. “I’ve been too tough on him. But you’ve been too easy… making me appear to be the bad guy.”

  Oz chuckled. “That’s usually our dynamic, is it not? You play the heavy.”

  Dagr glared at him. “With the crew—or anyone else, for that matter—I care less if that’s how I seem. I’ll play the tyrant. But not with him. Please, Oz. We need to be of the same mind when it comes to Llyr.”

  “You’re right. I’ll do better.”

  “You might not have to for much longer.” Dagr eyed Oz’s cabin door. “He offered to leave once the sun rose.”

  Oz stood straighter, worry creeping in. “Is he gone?”

  “No,” Dagr mur
mured. “I convinced him to stay until we saw the witch, at the very least.” Dagr frowned. “I assume he’s still here. I’ve yet to check in on him this morning yet.”

  “You didn’t check in on him?” Oz frowned. “Wait… you didn’t bed him last night?”

  Dagr scoffed. “Of course not. Last night was supposed to be yours. I wouldn’t give that to another.”

  Oz took a half step closer and took Dagr’s cheek in his palm. “I never deserved a man like you.”

  Dagr’s stare softened a bit more. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Oz’s.

  Shock filled him as they parted. “What of our vow?” Not in front of the crew had been their hard and fast rule.

  “We’ll soon be done with this journey,” Dagr said. “And it’s not as if they’re not already aware.”

  With that, Oz leaned in and took Dagr’s mouth with his own. He smiled against his lover’s lips, enjoying the freedom of kissing him in the light of day, not caring who saw. When they parted, Oz saw something at the corner of his vision. He spun to see Llyr in his cabin’s doorway, staring. Red tinted his face as he looked to be hiding an embarrassed grin.

  “I’m glad the two of you have kissed and made up.”

  Oz took a step away from Dagr and twisted to face Llyr. “Seems he forgives my bad behavior last night. I hope you will, as well.”

  Llyr’s smile faded. “You have nothing to forgive. I, on the other hand, need your pardon. I caused this row.”

  “Not really,” Oz said. “I think we’re all guilty to some extent here.”

  “If we’re done prattling on, we should go find the witch and let her have her say,” Dagr interrupted. “Then we’ll know just how forgiving we need to be to one another.”

  Trailing behind the two humans, Llyr observed everything he passed. The forests spreading out behind the port town were lovely. Things the men called evergreen trees had a rich smell he enjoyed very much. He saw woodland creatures running and darting about, much like the small schools of fish he’d encounter on the few trips he’d had outside the castle walls.

  “We’re here,” Oz called over his shoulder.

  He cast a gaze forward. His stare had been so focused on the things they’d passed that he’d been blind to the structure ahead. Llyr paused on the edge of the small cottage’s gate, noting how much it appeared like the Enchantress’ underwater cavern. The white witch’s home was round, not square like the other human buildings he’d seen in the small port town. Heavy vines grew up the walls, making it seem more like a living thing. Outside, there was a vast garden, growing what appeared to be food —not too far different than the seaweed beds his people tended. As they sauntered inside the gate, he saw the door wide open. A huge cauldron took up the center of the room—and the walls were bedecked with bottle after bottle of spells and ingredients.

  “Hello? Is anyone home?” Oz called out, rapping his knuckles on the edge of the door.

  An older woman swept from somewhere inside the depths. As soon as she noticed him, the witch immediately rushed toward Llyr, all wild white hair and wide eyes. The woman grabbed his shoulders with hands that gripped him stronger than they should’ve been able to.

  “Let me get a good look at ya, m’boy.”

  Llyr’s skin seemed like it vibrated under her intense gaze. Her regard was deep and prevailing… he feared she could see his very thoughts. He took a shuddering breath, her power overwhelming. Llyr glanced at Dagr and Oz, seeing curiosity on their faces. When he returned his stare to the woman, her eyes widened more.

  “I ne’er thought I’d see one o’you in tha light o’day.” Her breath smelled of something sweet and cloying. The witch’s smile grew broad, showing even teeth yellowed by age. She reached out and pulled a lock of his hair from the braid trailing down the back of his neck. With a yank, she stole a few hairs and tossed some into her cauldron. The others she tucked into a pocket of the apron worn over her dress.

  Llyr winced with pain and lifted a hand to his head. A poof of blue-green smoke rose from her pot, and she reminded him of the Enchantress once more.

  “A merman. In my home. This is a good day.” She cackled some. “My sisters will ne’er believe me.”

  “What did you just call him?” Oz asked, an eyebrow arched high.

  She let Llyr go and focused on Oz.

  “Is that not why you’re here?” She hooked a thumb Llyr’s way. “You’ve got questions about this one.”

  “Well… yes,” Oz said, his face a mask of confusion.

  “Ya didn’t know ya’d caught a merman, did ya?” She chuckled, shaking her head at Dagr and Oz. “Well, he’s yours now. Forever.”

  “What?” Llyr asked, eyes widening. He cast a look toward Dagr and Oz—and both men wore the same shocked expression he expected swathed his own face. He focused back on the witch, needing more understanding. “Why would you say… I’m theirs?”

  “Well, that’s tha story I’ve heard. If a man catches a mermaid, she’s his. Wouldn’t tha same be said fer a merman?” she asked.

  Llyr was frozen for a moment. A mixture of panic… and exhilaration… filled him. He was theirs.

  The excitement quickly faded. He was quite sure they’d refuse. Where did that leave him?

  Hopefully not back with Alphonse.

  The witch reached out and clasped the pendant around his neck. “Whoever crafted this is a powerful sorceress.”

  Llyr took a half step back, reaching for the pendant. It was too important to fall into another’s hands.

  The witch eyed it close before letting it go with a gasp. “Don’t take it off. Ne’er. Not ‘til yer free.”

  Llyr reached up and gripped the pendant. “I’ll never be free.”

  “Oh yes. You will,” she commented. “He will absolutely free ye.”

  “He?” Llyr asked, curious who his supposed savior would be.

  “The King of Aegeaus,” she whispered close.

  Oz cleared his throat. “We came… because we need to see if… a love spell’s been cast over us. We experience a powerful attraction to this man—and we barely know him.”

  “Sometimes tha heart understands ‘fore tha head can catch up,” she answered before cocking her head. “Ya don’t seem too upset that yer heart is bound ta another man, do ya?” She smiled. “Nay. Ya don’t. Ya prefer it so.” Her smile grew broader. “Because a man already holds yer heart, now does he not?”

  She tossed her gaze toward Dagr. “Fer many years, eh?”

  Oz seemed to ignore her comments. “Is there more to that pendant Llyr wears than merely protection from these supposed monsters after him?”

  She walked back toward Llyr and observed the pendant. The witch ambled over to her wall of bottles and took one off a shelf before shaking a powder into her palm. She again faced Llyr and blew the smoke over his face and chest. “Tis no love spell. It helps him pass as more human,” she answered. “Which keeps tha demons at bay, as well.”

  Llyr frowned, remembering then that the Enchantress had said that. In his rush to the surface, he’d forgotten. “Pass as human? The witch already took his tail.”

  “Merfolk aren’t human. They’re close kin, but not the same. We humans have no alphas and omegas, as ya do. Men are incapable of givin’ birth here.” She eyed the pendant. “This helps ya hide yer omega side, it does.”

  “Wait—did you just say men don’t give birth here?” Oz asked. He looked at Llyr. “As in they do there?”

  “This is outrageous,” Dagr spat, interrupting. “Llyr’s obviously got to her first—convinced her to participate in his madness,” Dagr paused, shaking his head. “Men don’t have babies. Merfolk are fairytales. They’re both toying with us.”

  The witch spun to face Dagr. “Ya dare challenge my veracity?” She stalked closer and pressed a finger in the middle of his chest, eyes ablaze. “He, who has magic swirling in his very veins?” She moved her crooked finger and pointed it at Llyr. “Ya know he’s telling tha truth—don’t ya? Ya saw tha mo
nsters yerself, but ya still disbelieve.”

  “Magic? I have no magic,” Dagr argued.

  “Ya do! I can see it glowing ‘round ya. Potent stuff.” She cocked her head to the side. “Yer mother. She was a sorceress. A powerful one, at that. Even more than tha one who did that charm.”

  Darkness came over Dagr’s face. Anger. Sadness. A maelstrom of emotions. “If she was so powerful, how come she and the man she loved died, leaving me all alone?” he demanded.

  “Because she used e’ything she had in her ta save you! Tha child created of that love.”

  Dagr took a step back, his expression pained. He appeared stricken, the words having a physical impact. Llyr wanted to rush over. To console him. But he was unsure Dagr if would accept his comfort in that moment.

  The witch strolled closer to Dagr, eyeing him closely. “Tha boat. E’ryone else onboard died. All but ye. Floating along in a basket, saved by a ship that had mysteriously veered off course fer no conceivable reason. They found ya—ten days later. No food. No water. Nothing. A babe but months old. Ya should’ve been dead, but ya lived. Has that never seemed odd?”

  Dagr’s nostrils flared. “How do you know all that?”

  She focused her intense gaze on Oz. “Tha same way I know ya wish ta ask ‘bout yer mother and yer brot—”

  “No!” Oz screamed, lifting his palm. His expression covered in pain.

  Silence raced through the room like a cold tide.

  The witch sighed. “Go home, Oswald. Yer father needs ya.”

  Oz frowned. “We leave tomorrow, headed for home.”

  “Leave tonight,” the witch replied. “Sooner if ya can.”

  Llyr watched the look shared between Dagr and Oz.

  “Take tha merman. You’ll need him if ya wish ta save yer father’s life,” the witch prophesied. She placed her palm out. “A coin fer my time?”

  Oz sighed before digging one out of his pocket and laying it on her palm. “If we’re being deceived…”

  The woman whispered something to Oz that Llyr was unable to hear. All he could see was Oz’s face going white. Past white. And on to green. He fled the cottage. Llyr raced after Oz, Dagr on his tail. They found him a few paces away, his hands on his knees and breathing hard.

 

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