by Kelex
“What did she say to you?” Dagr demanded.
Oz was silent, continuing to breathe heavily a few more breaths. He finally rose to his full height and turned to stare at them. “Something my mother said.”
Dagr closed his eyes, shaking his head. Oz’s face twisted in pain, but he remained silent. Llyr felt as if he was being left out.
“Are you and your mother at odds?” Llyr asked.
“No,” Oz said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “She’s dead.”
“Oh,” Llyr whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” Oz whispered.
“And your brother?” Llyr asked. “Is that what the witch was about to say?”
“Brothers. I had two. They both died onboard a ship,” Oz continued. “On waters not far from here.”
Realization hit. The Draugar. Both could easily be under his father’s spell. “Oh no.”
Dagr had said it had been unkind for him to speak of his monsters. Now he understood why. “I didn’t know… I’m so sorry…”
“Llyr and this witch are toying with us,” Dagr spat. He deliberated a second before spinning to face Llyr. “Did you slip off the ship last night and come find her? Is that it?”
“No,” Llyr cried.
“If you did this,” Dagr paused, hissing as if he were in pain. “To put Oz through that kind of pain—I could never forgive you for it.”
“I would never! I had no knowledge of any of this. You must believe me!”
Dagr only glared at him. Llyr focused on Oz, but saw the man’s face was a mask of pain.
“She discerned things she shouldn’t have,” Oz said to Dagr. “Look what she knew of you.”
“The wreck that took my parents… there were stories in the papers about the ship going down and me being found alive. My grandmother keeps a scrapbook full of them—one she loves to share with guests.” Dagr winced. “She found it all so entertaining, the death of her only son.”
“Or maybe she was sharing the miraculous salvage of her beloved grandson,” Llyr whispered.
Dagr’s glare rose to his. The man’s hard edge softened a fraction—but not much. “I was never her beloved anything. I was her burden. Always in the way. She could barely glance my way.”
“Do you look like your father?” Llyr asked.
Dagr was silent.
“Darker, but yes,” Oz said. “Although I never met his father. From the portraits I’ve seen they are quite similar.”
“Perhaps you reminded her too much of the son she lost,” Llyr said, staring at Dagr. “Each time she gazed upon you, she might’ve seen him. And that could’ve hurt. More than you realize.”
Dagr and Oz stared at him, but said nothing.
“I’m sorry… I was unaware of your situation. At all. But there’s always two sides to a story. And…” Llyr took a deep breath, unsure his next words would be welcome or not. “You seem incapable of seeing the other side of any argument. It’s your way or nothing—and that’s unfair. At the very least, it’s a pity. I can’t imagine what you have lost by not being willing to see outside your narrow view. What you will continue to lose—if you’re unable to open your eyes and mind.”
“Narrow view?” Dagr asked, his scowl deepening.
“Yes,” Llyr continued, unafraid. “I can see you’re a good man.” He paused, taking a steadying breath. “When you look at Oz, I can see the love in your eyes. I realize you’re suspicious of me—and you have a right to be. I’m not of your world, and anything new can be a danger. If I were in your shoes, I’d likely be fearful of you, too.”
“I would say I’m unafraid, but that would be a lie. Do you know what I do fear?” Dagr asked.
Llyr captured Dagr’s golden brown focus. “What threat could I ever cause? You’re both bigger and stronger than I. I have no weapons.”
“Your weapon is you. That gorgeous face and that body I can’t stop thinking of, especially in the dead of night. Those eyes that flutter and lure me in, forcing me to think of the pale pink lips inches below them—the ones I’ve hungered to taste since you first looked at me. What I truly fear is that we’ll open ourselves to this damnable attraction we both feel and allow you to rip our hearts out. I fear you’ll be the end of us both.” He glanced at Oz a moment before returning his gaze to Llyr. “I would give my life for him. And if that means protecting him from you, so be it.”
“And there shows that you are not a good man,” Llyr murmured.
Dagr’s eyes widened in anger.
“But a great one.” Llyr paused, staring up at Dagr. “Putting another you love before your own welfare… sounds much like what your own mother did for you. I bet you’re very much like her.”
“You don’t know my mother nor what she did.” Dagr sighed. “Hell, I don’t know my own mother. Don’t attempt to use a perceived weakness against me.”
“That was not my intent! My papa died when I was born, so I understand that pain. Of not knowing… the hole it leaves within you.”
Dagr’s anger seemed to leech from him.
Llyr took a step closer, desperate to find a way into his walls. “My father blamed me for my papa’s death. I was also born an omega, which was my second sin. My elder brothers were alphas… and they were given more of our father’s time and attention. Me? I got nothing. I was raised by nannies—and Prawnsby, though I loathe to consider him any sort of a guide in my upbringing.”
“Prawnsby?” Oz asked.
“My guardian,” Llyr answered.
“More mermen,” Dagr spat.
“Oh no. A seahorse.”
Dagr met his stare, one brow rising. “A seahorse.” After a moment, he dragged his gaze away and eyed Oz. “A seahorse.” He dragged a hand through his hair before turning to Oz. “How am I supposed to take anything you say as the truth? One moment you open your heart to me and speak of a loss kin to mine. And then you ruin it a moment later with your delusions! I don’t know what to believe.” He shook his head. “Enough of this foolishness.”
It was obvious Dagr wanted nothing more to do with their conversation. Llyr had gotten nowhere. He lowered his head, saddened that he’d again failed to get past Dagr’s thick walls. There was little time left before he’d have to return…
And he refused to come between the two men. Either they both claimed him or nothing. His heart couldn’t allow for anything else.
Nor would theirs.
“We need to gather the crew and prepare to leave,” Oz said.
“Why? The witch was lying,” Dagr replied.
Oz took a deep breath. “I’d rather go home and her be wrong than the alternative.”
Dagr cocked his head toward Llyr. “And him?”
Llyr lifted his chin. “I detest being talked about as if I’m not standing right here.”
Oz regarded Dagr, ignoring Llyr. “Him we bring. Just in case.”
Llyr crossed his arms over his chest. “What if I decline to come?”
They both turned to eye him silently.
He saw the lingering lust still there, hidden among the anguish and doubt. Their wounds were deep. Lost parents. Lost siblings. A hard life filled with pain. He wished to be the one to soothe those wounds. He sought to give them his heart and hold theirs close. He desired to protect them and prevent more pain in their lives.
Llyr barely knew them, true, but it seemed as if his soul did. They were his.
Their pain was his.
He rejected the idea of them leaving without him at their sides.
After a moment of trying to look strong, Llyr sighed and dropped his arms. He was weak. There was no way he could walk away from the pair. He refused to let go, even if it meant he’d end up returning home without what he needed. “Fine. Not as if I had anywhere else to go.”
6
“Can ya tell me why tha rush ta leave?” their quartermaster, Mr. Tyler, asked once they’d given orders to set sail a day early.
Dagr shook his head. “Our captain has decided it’
s finally time for his homecoming. He wants to see his father. He’s eager to leave.”
“Tha men are quite ready ta be home, too. It’s been forever since I’ve seen me family.” Mr. Tyler took off his hat and scratched at his balding pate. “And what happ’ns after? Any news there?”
“I have more news on that account after our captain has attended to his family matters.” And my own.
Mr. Tyler replaced his hat. “I hope ye be comin’ back ta cap’n us back out ta sea, sir.” He winced. “Not that I don’t love our cap’n. I do, mind ya. But if he can’ return, it should be ye, sir.”
Dagr smiled at the man. They’d sailed with Mr. Tyler for a good eight years, if not a bit longer. The man kept the others in line and did a good job of procuring goods and selling their freight, as needed. If he and Oz were unable to resume their travels, the ship would likely be sold and the crew might not be asked to remain. “And if we’re incapable to continuing our journeys, do you think you might be ready to step in and become her captain?”
“Me?” Mr. Tyler’s eyes widened for a moment before his chest rose and a smile came to his lips. “Ye’d trust me wiff tha cap’ncy?”
“The captain and I have discussed it previously. We both think you’ve proven yourself most loyal and trustworthy. The men we have are, too. I would hate to see them lose an income.”
“Aye, that,” Mr. Tyler said. “I’m up fer tha job, if ye be seein’ fit ta give her ta me. We can work this ship an’ keep her profitable fer ye.”
Dagr clasped the man on the shoulder. “Let me discuss it with the captain again and I’ll get back with you. For now, we need to get loaded and set sail.”
Mr. Tyler nodded. “Yes, sir!”
Dagr left the quartermaster to his work. He could soon hear Mr. Tyler’s cries to the crew behind him as he climbed to the upper deck where Oz stood surveying the labor going on around them. Once he was near Oz, he could see the man was blind to the preparations. He concentrated on Llyr—who stood on the lower deck. Dagr paused a moment, watching as Llyr observed the men with utter fascination. It was almost like watching a child seeing something for the first time. Can it truly be an act?
He was unsure. “We’re nearly ready to leave port.”
“Good,” Oz murmured.
“Are you truly ready to face home?”
Oz shrugged. “No readier than I’d be tomorrow.”
Dagr’s stare fell on Llyr once more. “Are you sure you wish to bring him?”
“The witch told us to.”
“That alone would be enough for me to rethink bringing him at all.” Dagr leaned on the railing, his gaze once again falling on Llyr’s head.
“It would’ve been hard for Llyr to leave the ship last night without being seen. I checked with the men—they saw nothing.”
“That is no proof. The men often drink too much to pay as close attention as they should.”
Oz clicked his tongue. “There you are. Always with a denial.”
“I only wish to be logical about the very illogical situation we now find ourselves in.”
“Where does our instinct come into play?” Oz asked.
“I have been listening to my instincts. They tell me to be wary.”
Oz chuckled. “And the instinct? In regards to getting him under you? What about that one?”
Dagr sighed versus answering Oz’s too difficult question.
Oz didn’t demand an answer. He stood there silently a few seconds before asking, “Do you wish to send him on his way? Honestly?”
Dagr hesitated to answer that. “Regardless of what we feel, he’s still dangerous in my mind. We have no idea what his motives are. What we feel, no matter how natural it seems—it’s not. It can’t be.”
“You were adamant the witch would free us of our concerns—yet you now refuse to believe her. She said there was no spell bewitching us. She confirmed Llyr was telling the truth. Yet you deny what she told us.”
“Because it’s impossible, Oz. We’re supposed to put all our faith into the words of a witch and a potential lunatic?”
Oz cocked his head to the side. “You assumed we would go to the witch and she would confirm what you already believed. Because that was the only option for you. When she said the opposite of what you desired, you called her a liar. For a man who holds himself in such strict control, that’s not very gentlemanly of you.”
Dagr sighed and lowered his head. He gripped the railing, his knuckles going pale. “How can we believe such fantasy? Mermen. Monstrous armies. Seahorse nannies named Prawnsby. A whole other realm under the waves. It’s all utter nonsense.”
“Or maybe it’s not,” Oz said.
“Please tell me he hasn’t convinced you of this madness!”
“Convinced? No. But he believes it.” Oz leaned onto the railing beside Dagr and captured his stare. “My gut tells me he’s not lying. Could his story be madness? Absolutely—but in his heart, he does not lie. There’s only a few days before we reach home and our world shatters. Maybe we need a little of his fantasy before we’re plunged into hell.”
“And end up going insane along with him?”
“When I was young, I remember my grandfather telling tales of his youth. When witches were thought to be a myth. Then suddenly one saves the whole realm and they’re shown to be real. It changes everything we thought we understood.”
“Seeing is believing,” Dagr murmured.
“Then reserve your judgment for however many days Llyr claims he has left. If he doesn’t sprout a tail and fins when he says he will, then you can decide what you believe and what you don’t. Until then… can you not find a little part of yourself that can believe?”
Llyr lifted his gaze and smiled at Dagr in that moment. He offered a wave, his coppery tresses blowing around him in the breeze. The man was stunning… his smile so warm and free from guile. Dagr’s heart clenched, and waves of lust crashed into him unchecked. The voices in his head told him this man was theirs. That Llyr belonged to them. How that was possible, he could not fathom—but he was growing exhausted fighting the temptation.
A thought popped into his mind, and he cocked his head and captured Oz’s attention. He had to know before they went any further with Oz’s outrageous idea. “Exactly what did the witch whisper to you. What got you so upset?”
Oz sighed and rose to his full height. He searched the horizon, his expression distant. “She spoke of something my mother told me long ago.”
“Something that someone in the castle could have overheard.”
“It was seconds before she died,” Oz said, his stare growing distant. “We were utterly alone.” He drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve never felt so alone before… or since.”
Dagr gasped inwardly. He searched his mind, trying to remember the story of Oz’s mother’s death. Dagr had been young, too young to pay much care to the gossip—and after, he’d never pushed, wanting to spare Oz more pain. As far as he recalled, bandits had shot the guards and his mother before taking all their valuables—leaving Oz the only one alive. Barely.
They’d shot him before leaving, but he’d survived.
“When I came to… after the highwaymen were gone with the valuables and she was nearly gone…I crawled over to her and tried to rouse her. I was hit, so I couldn’t walk—I couldn’t help her. I begged her forgiveness. She awoke for a moment—long enough to say, “It’s not your fault, my sweet pup. I love you with all my heart. Please… tell your father to return my body to the sea… where I belong.” Oz paused, a faraway look to his face. “I still dream of that moment and her words. They haunt me, and I can remember that moment with such clarity—it’s as if it’s happening all over again.” Oz lifted his gaze to Dagr. “I told my father of her wish to return to the sea, but none of the rest. The witch knew of my guilt and her words. All of them. I’ve never told another living soul what my mother said to me that day. Not even you.”
“My gods, Ozzy,” Dagr gasped. “What did she mean? Return her to the
sea?”
Oz shrugged. “She loved the ocean. She would take my brothers and I swimming as often as she could. It called to her just as it calls to me.”
“You still blame yourself for her death. Don’t you?” They’d crossed the subject a time or two over the years. The conversations had lasted mere moments before Oz had walked away, unable to face the emotions. Dagr had sensed Oz’s guilt and had tempted fate a few times, asking the same question. Each time, Oz had refused to answer. “Talk to me, Oz. It’s been so long… and for you to continue to hold on to that guilt… it has to be eating you alive.”
Oz grew quiet.
For once, he didn’t walk away. “The highwaymen who raided us that day—I fought them versus simply handing over our valuables. I was thirteen… and I thought I could fend off three grown armed villains.” Oz looked into the distance. “One aimed his weapon at me—and fired—but the bullet missed its target. It hit her in the chest.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “Had I not fought, she might still be alive.”
“They’d killed off your father’s men first—if I recall correctly.”
“Yes,” Oz said.
“Oz—they were evil men. From the sounds of it, they had no plans to leave anyone alive that day. It was a miracle you survived. You cannot blame yourself for what happened.”
Oz smiled, but the light of it failed to go to his eyes. “It’s easy to say, but not as easy to let go of.” He shrugged. “Both Brandt and Godfrey blamed me. My father never said it… but I could see it in his eyes. I couldn’t stand to see it anymore. Especially when I blamed me.”
“So you ran away to the sea…” Dagr added. “Even though it were innocent.”
“Innocent? I sincerely doubt that.” He smiled wanly. “Somehow, I thankfully convinced you to come with me.”
“You were my best friend. I refused to let you go alone.” He sighed. “There wasn’t much convincing needed. Home wasn’t happy for me.”