by Kelex
Oz nodded. “I figured if I ran far enough, I’d stop seeing the looks in my brothers’ eyes… and the pain in my father’s face. The pity in the servant’s expressions. It was all too much for me to deal with.”
“I’m sorry, Ozzy. But I wish you’d trusted me enough to confide long ago.”
Oz’s expression went blank. “I thought—” Oz paused, tensing his jaw. “I feared—I feared you would think the worst of me. Knowing that I caused her death.”
Dagr moved closer and rubbed a palm down Oz’s back. “Never. You caused nothing.”
Oz leaned into him. The weight was welcome. Dagr held on tight, trying to give his friend strength.
“And now…” Oz glanced at their merman. “Llyr’s monsters might turn out to haunt me even more.” He scoffed. “She says I’ll see my brothers again someday.”
“They’re gone, Oz.”
Oz shook his head. “Maybe not. If what Llyr says is true…”
“I told you. It’s not true,” Dagr whispered. “None of it.”
Oz eyed him. “She said you saw Llyr’s monsters. What did you see?”
“It was a foggy night, and I let Llyr’s stories get to me. A wallowing cat and a trick of the lights was all it likely was. Nothing more.”
Oz searched his face, seeking a truth Dagr wasn’t sure he trusted. Not after what had transpired. “I believe, Dag. She knew what my mother said. Verbatim.” He cast a look to the merman. “I think Llyr speaks truth. Perhaps it’s only in his mind, but… there’s no treachery in him. You have to sense that.”
Dagr eyed Oz, seeing the man he loved in pain. It broke him inside. He reached out and caressed Oz’s cheek. “This has opened old wounds. Don’t let Llyr pull you into a nightmare you’ll be unable to escape from.”
“Sometimes the only way to heal is to rip them open. I’ve held on to this pain for too long,” Oz said.
Dagr swallowed back sadness. “And he could do that for you when I couldn’t. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No,” Oz murmured, grasping Dagr’s shoulders. “Yes, he’s led me down this path, but it’s you I’m opening up to, Dag. You.”
Dagr held Oz’s gaze.
“Llyr can bring us together. I sense he can. If you can open yourself to the possibility.”
“Or we lose ourselves to his madness.”
“You really are unable to yield—precisely as Llyr says.”
Dagr stiffened.
Oz narrowed his stare. “What happens if he’s telling us the truth? Will that inability to bend cause you to break?”
“Luckily I have you there to piece me back together.”
“For how much longer?” Oz whispered.
Dagr’s heart clenched painfully. He hated the reminder that the end was nigh.
Oz stood up straighter, pulling away. “I’m barely able to fight this attraction, my love. I’m a weak man.” He leaned in close. “I believe he believes… and that’s enough for me in this moment. I want to lose myself in him and forget the past. Forget the future. All I have is right now.”
Dagr searched Oz’s face, seeing how desperate Oz was.
Sadness crept into Oz’s eyes. “But I need you there to anchor me, Dag. You are the calm in my storm.”
Dagr was unaccustomed to dealing in fiction and fantasy—but if it was what Oz needed, how could he deny the man he loved? “If it’s what you wish.”
Oz leaned closer, enough that he could hide the hand sliding up Dagr’s side. They’d gotten so accustomed to hiding their feelings, it was second nature. “Don’t force yourself to do something on my account. You desire him, too. Let go, Dag. Just let go and let your walls down a little.”
Dagr wasn’t sure he could. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
Oz grinned. “I do. And I love you, too.”
Dagr was uncertain what he would do once their life together was over. After their homecoming, maybe he’d be able to return to the sea and forget his pain. Yet he’d gotten the letters, too. His grandparents had made similar demands on him, so he’d likely not be able to sail away immediately.
He was commanded home to learn how to run the family estates. Estates that would never be his. He could only see a potential future where he’d die from the tedium of a life he didn’t wish for. Dagr could always go back out to sea—but with a part of his heart left with Oz, he was unsure how far he could sail away before being drawn back.
“He thinks you dislike him,” Oz said, cocking his head toward Llyr. “Turn on the charm I know you have inside you.”
Dagr took a deep breath before he headed for the stairs. Once on the lower deck, he sidled up beside Llyr—who still watched the ship being loaded. “Enjoying our ship?”
The wonder in Llyr’s eyes did strange things to his heart. It skipped a beat and struggled with a stutter as it restarted.
“It’s all so… strange and wonderful. They move like they’re dancing, all in tune with each other. It’s beautiful to watch.”
Dagr focused his gaze toward the crew, seeing them for the first time through Llyr’s eyes. They worked the riggings, loaded their cargo, and readied for their voyage as they had hundreds of times before, and only now did he see the dance-like gambol of his men. They worked in tandem, all in concert with another, along with the gentle sway of the water rocking the boat this way and that. “I never thought about it like that… they’re all well-trained and understand what they must do.”
“Whoever trained them did a magnificent job it would seem,” Llyr stated.
Llyr’s words forced him smile, no matter how much he attempted to hide it. Pride flowed through him. His chin rose, his chest expanding. He had been the one to lead the crew in their duties. He’d trained the men in the ways of Oz’s ship. Pride was a sin, he knew—but he was proud of his men and how well they worked as a unit.
For Llyr to notice it… mattered in some small way.
“Not that I have much experience on sailing ships,” Llyr added. “I’ve seen a couple in passing, with their sails full of blustering winds, but I’ve never been aboard one.”
“You must live close to the sea where you’re from then?”
Llyr smiled, but also looked a bit sad. “Soon you will grasp the truth.”
Dagr eyed the man. “I believe that you believe your stories.”
Llyr searched his face a moment before turning his gaze. “I suppose it’s a place to start.” He regarded Dagr, a question in his eyes. “You said ‘our’ ship.”
Dagr shook his head. “It’s Oz’s. But I’ve spent the last eight years aboard her decks. She’s as much a home as any other. That makes her mine in some small way, I suppose.”
“Her? You speak as if the ship has a soul.”
“I guess she does, in some way. We put our trust in her strength. We do not doubt she will help us reach the end of our journey.”
“Does she have a name?”
“She’s the Reliance.”
“Reliance. Named so because you and your crew put your faith into her dependable nature?” Llyr asked. “Is that it?”
“Yes,” Dagr murmured. “I suppose so.”
“Does she not have the same weaknesses of any other ship that sails these oceans?”
Dagr nodded. “Of course. But she was well built. We spend a lot of time maintaining her—keeping her in good working order.”
“I’ve seen ships at the bottom of the ocean, pulled down by ill weather or violence. I wonder if those crews put the time and care into those vessels? It would be sad if they did only to find such a tragic end.”
Dagr stared at Llyr, unsure the point the man was trying to make. “We take some risk each time we stride on deck. There’s always a chance we won’t arrive at the next port.”
“If you can have faith in the Reliance and her crew, perhaps there’s hope you can find some in me, too. I’ve proven you have the capacity.”
Dagr was struck silent a moment. “Unlike you, our ship does not claim to do the im
possible.”
“What you think is impossible can change with the wind.”
Fortunately, cries from down below on the docks caught his attention and ended their conversation before it could devolve more. “I’m afraid I need to go investigate what’s going on.”
“Of course,” Llyr said with a soft smile. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No. As you said, we’re a well-oiled machine and have everything in hand,” Dagr said before bowing and then heading toward the gangway. Once he arrived on the dock, he saw a group of his sailors staring down into the water. “Did we lose some cargo?”
Their quartermaster lifted his stare, a ghostly look to his pale face. “Barney— swears he saw a dead thing in tha water. I told him thars no such thing. But when I walked over ta tha edge meself, I saw a wisp o’somethin’. Don’t bode well fer tha voyage ahead.”
“Nay,” another of the sailors muttered. “Bad omen, that is.”
Dagr lifted a brow. “And how much drink did the lot of you have last night?”
“It ain’t that!” the man in question, Barney, answered. “I barely drank four pints an’ I keen what I saw. ‘Twas a dead man. Pale an’ ghastly. Only his eyes were open an’… he saw me. Live an’ dead, all the same.”
Dagr shook his head. “You saw nothing but an old piece of canvas or a sea creature tossed about on the waves. If it was a dead body, it would be floating for all to see.”
Mr. Tyler ambled over to Dagr. “Have ye ever known me ta speak tall tales or other foolishness?” he asked lowly.
Dagr sized the man up. “No.”
“I ain’t doin’ it now, either. I saw somethin’. I don’ know what, but I did.”
Dagr eyed the men a moment longer as the group around them grew. A shiver raced up his spine, his skin tingling with awareness. Magic. He could sense it all around them.
He watched as Barney told the others his tale. “The whole ship will be whispering ghost tales for weeks now.”
“Perhaps we set out on the morrow, ta help calm tha men about tha journey ahead.”
“We have no time to dawdle,” Dagr said, knowing Oz believed the witch’s tales. He refused to be swayed—and if there was a small ounce of truth in it, if Oz’s father was in need—they had to go. Sooner than later. And if there was magic around them, they needed distance from it. “We must leave today.”
Mr. Tyler sighed and crossed a finger over his heart. “May tha gods have mercy on us.” He concentrated on the crewmen. “Leave all tha’ nonsense. We have a ship ta ready.”
Dagr heard the complaints of the men, but knew the crew would fall in line behind their quartermaster. As the crew scurried away from the water’s edge and went back to their business, Dagr took a few steps closer. He stared down into the inky water and chuckled, wondering what he thought he might see.
Before he was about to march away, he thought he saw something surveying him from the depths. A tendril of something rose from the water and wrapped around him. Power coursed through him at the touch. Frozen, he continued to watch… but whatever it had been quickly faded from sight. After searching another few moments, he decided he had too little sleep the night before.
Nightmares and fictions were swirling all around him. He marched back up onto the deck. Llyr stood at the end of the gangway, smiling… and another shiver raced up Dagr’s spine.
But this one was different. There was no fear in it, only lust.
And there was no tingling to his skin—not in the way magic set him off.
“Are we underway soon?”
Llyr’s smile chased away some of the chill. “Yes… soon.”
7
Later that night, Llyr rolled to his side on the small cot in the cabin they’d given him to use. A ray of moonlight cast itself through the darkness, the sole illumination. He stared at the circle of light from the porthole and thought about what occurred in the cabin next to him. Oz and Dagr were sharing the captain’s stateroom in order to give him a bed.
All Llyr wanted to do was to join them. His attempt at seduction had failed before it even began. He’d come between the two men, and refused to do it again. So how in the hell did he manage to get the help he needed before his time ran out?
He feared it wouldn’t happen—especially with Dagr’s denials. He cuddled into the blankets covering him, unable to sleep. They smelled of Dagr. Llyr frowned, wishing the man was able to yield. Just a little bit, but that seemed impossible.
Llyr lifted a hand to his face; heat filled his palm. He frowned, kicking off the blankets. His body felt strange. His stomach clenched. When it was apparent he’d find no comfort, he slid from the bed to seek out fresh air.
Before he could reach for the knob, a knock came to his door. He stiffened.
After Llyr had crossed the room and opened the door, he found Oz stood behind it. Moonlight washed over the captain, making him more handsome looking. A broad smile stretched over his face.
“I would like to invite you to my quarters for a nightcap.”
A smile came to Llyr’s lips. “What is a night cap?”
“In theory, it’s a drink taken before bed meant to help you sleep. In actuality, it’s typically a contrivance to get someone alone so you can persuade them into your bed.”
More heat slammed into Llyr. He was already sweltering. “You desire me in your bed?”
Oz took a half step, filling up the doorway with his big, strong body. He leaned on the frame and tilted his head in a way that was quite endearing… and nearly caused Llyr to moan. “I think the better question is—do you wish to be in my bed?”
“You… or you and Dagr?”
“He and I,” Oz murmured.
Llyr’s smile faded. While he wanted them both—desperately—they didn’t want him with equal measure. “I’m not sure Dagr desires my company.”
“Dagr does a very good job of fighting his passions,” Oz said before entering the cabin and dropping on top of the small bunk. His large frame only made it appear smaller. How Dagr slept there, Llyr didn’t know. “I happen to understand just how close to the edge he is. One push and my friend will fall.”
“He made it very clear he refused to fall victim to my charms. No matter how much he was driven to.”
Oz sighed. “He’s obstinate. Sometimes logical to a fault. But he needs you, Llyr. He needs you in his life.”
Then why isn’t he here? Llyr wasn’t quite convinced Dagr felt as Oz did. Yes, he saw the latent need in the man’s face, but also staggering distrust. There seemed to be nothing he could do to convince Dagr he was what he claimed to be. By the time he had the proof, it would be too late for them. He’d have to return to the ocean and leave them both behind.
“He’s much more to you than a friend,” Llyr said as Oz drew him between two thick thighs. “You should call him something else.”
A wry smile came to Oz’s lips as he gazed up at Llyr. Moonlight washed over his handsome face. “I wish there was a name that could encapsulate what he is to me. You’re right. Friend is nowhere close to being enough.” Oz’s smile paled. “Which is why I need to find someone to protect his heart once I’m gone.”
He’d protect both their hearts if he could. “Who will protect yours?”
Oz’s smile faded more. An earnest light came to his eyes. “I’m not concerned with that.”
Llyr moved closer. “I am.” He trailed a hand over Oz’s scruffy cheek. “I would be honored to be entrusted with a heart like yours. And Dagr’s. If only I had a future on two legs.”
Oz’s hand grasped his hip and tugged him closer. “Are you sure there can’t be more than seven days for you above the surface?”
“I wish I could stay longer… but the magic will eventually end.”
Oz took his hands. “There are witches in my homeland. Perhaps someone there is powerful enough to extend your stay. Would you if you could?”
Llyr’s heart clenched at the thought. “If it meant more time with you both? Of cours
e.”
Oz frowned. “Dagr. Not me.”
“Why not?”
Oz caressed Llyr’s cheek. “It can’t be.”
“I see the way you look at Dagr. It’s clear you love him. Wholeheartedly.” Llyr smiled wanly. “I wish I could have a love like that. You have it… and are willing to walk away without a fight?”
Oz eyed him. “It’s more complicated than that…”
“How is it complicated?”
Oz shook his head. “I didn’t come here to discuss my situation. I came here to protect my Dagr’s heart when the inevitable happens. You have the power to do that, I think.”
“He’s not ready to accept me. I felt the wall thinning a little, but he’s so stubborn.”
Oz’s smirk sent a swirl to his chest. “He won’t deny you. Not with me at your side.”
Llyr lifted his hands to Oz’s stubbled cheeks. “Maybe you could find your own happiness in my arms, too.”
Oz smiled, lifting a hand to entangle into Llyr’s hair. The human dragged him close for a gentle kiss… that soon exploded between them. He melted in Oz’s arms, molten to the touch. They fit so well together, their bodies like two pieces of a puzzle.
But that puzzle had another piece. And it suddenly seemed wrong to share the moment with only Oz. Dagr needed to be there before they went any further. When they parted, Llyr took a deep breath. His stomach turned, and needed to brace himself. Oz moved closer, worry in his eyes.
“You seem positively pale,” Oz chided before taking Llyr’s arm. “And you’re shaking. Are you unwell?”
“I don’t… I don’t feel myself.”
He drew Llyr onto the narrow mattress. “Lie down a moment. Some people struggle with sea travel. All the swaying to and fro—it has caused many an upset to those new to sea travel.”
“It’s not that, trust me,” Llyr said. “I’m quite accustomed to the water.”
“Of course.” Oz lifted the back of his hand to Llyr’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“I am?” He brought a hand to his forehead. Heat soaked into his fingertips. The fine curls at his hairline grew damp with sweat. Merfolk were cold blooded creatures… but he’d been warmer since coming to the surface, assuming it part of the spell. “What does this mean?”