Surrendered to the Sea

by Dessa Lux

  He found a position that seemed all right for a few minutes in a row, and he felt himself sinking toward sleep, his thoughts dimming and drifting. And then he felt it again, that something inside that—

  He squirmed, then stilled, almost holding his breath as he waited for the feeling to come again. And then it did, the tiniest ticklish fluttering inside.

  Devon sat bolt upright, laughing out loud as he realized what it was. He had to tell—

  Just like that some of the joy went out of him. Who could he tell about feeling the baby move inside him? He could tell Lir, but Lir probably already knew; Lir had been able to sense the baby’s life inside his even before Devon had the slightest awareness of it.

  In the pack, when a pregnant werewolf told their family and pack that they had felt the baby move, that marked the time when the coming addition to the pack was an open topic of discussion for all. Before then a woman or omega might make plans and preparations with their mate, might tell trusted friends or their closest family—their mother, or a wise auntie or grandmother, for advice—and the pack might detect the changes of scent and heartbeat as well as noticing the other indications. But until the mother said the baby had moved, no one talked about the baby.

  Devon glanced across the room at the laptop. He had had it the whole time; he could log on to Facebook right now and tell the pack filter that he’d felt his baby moving inside him.

  All he’d have to do was explain where he’d been for the last several months, and why he hadn’t been in touch if he wasn’t lost in the sea, unconscious and on the very brink of death for all that time, and whose baby it was, and where he was, and how he was connecting to the internet...

  Still. For all the daunting complications that would follow, it was tempting. Maybe not Facebook, maybe just an email to his parents, or a few of the omegas in the pack...

  “Hey, sunlight,” Lir said softly, setting a hand gently on his hip. “What is it? You were happy for a second there, and now you’re not.”

  Devon shook his head. “I’m not—I am happy. I felt the baby move, Lir.”

  He twisted to look at Lir as he said it, and Lir smiled—proud, but not surprised, and not treating it like some special thing different from any other day Devon had been pregnant.

  “And I wanted to tell my pack,” Devon went on.

  Lir’s smile faded.

  “Except that’s not what I want, not really.” Devon curled down close to Lir, and Lir’s arms went around him, holding him tight. “I don’t want them all yelling for me to explain, or telling me to come home, or coming out here with a boat trying to find me and drag me away. I just... I just wish we had a pack right here on the island. That’s all. I miss having a pack.”

  ***

  Chapter 13

  A pack was nothing Lir could ask George or Mar to bring to the island for Devon’s comfort. Lir had been worried, to begin with, that what Devon wanted wasn’t possible at all, but a little research made it clear that a werewolf pack need not share ties of blood or mating. Any group of werewolves sharing territory and resources could come to identify themselves as a pack.

  He only needed more werewolves. Maybe just one more, to start. But it would have to be another werewolf who had no pack, so that they would be content to stay on the island with him and Devon.

  There were probably plenty of wolves like that, scattered around the world, but Lir needed to make a pack for Devon now. Before he became too unhappy to stay with Lir. Before Father North saw that Lir was failing to take care of Devon properly.

  Before Devon stopped smiling at him, and snuggling up to him, and trusting him to fix things, to give him whatever he needed.

  So he was going to have to find at least one lost, packless werewolf close to home. He had an idea of where he might find one, if everything he’d read on the computer was true and werewolves really were as hard to kill as the stories said. But if he was right, he wasn’t just going to have to ask a favor from any of his brothers.

  He was going to have to go begging in Father North’s own domain.

  *

  “I have to go and see my Father,” he told Devon, after they’d had an enthusiastic morning encounter in the bed. “I’ll have to be away from you for hours, maybe all day.”

  Devon bit his lip but nodded understanding. “You’ll come back by tonight, though?”

  Lir pulled him close and kissed him, already feeling a little chill at the thought of entering his Father’s domain and having to be without his warm, bright human. “Definitely. I’ll need my sunlight when it gets dark, won’t I?”

  Devon made a little noise like he wanted to be annoyed by that, but he had his arms around Lir, holding on tight. “Are you sure you—no, of course you have to. Sorry.”

  Devon abruptly let him go, and Lir drew back just enough to look into his eyes. Devon was looking down, but Lir tapped under his chin until he met Lir’s gaze.

  “If you need me, I’ll stay,” Lir said firmly. He could put it off, after all, if being without him would be worse for Devon than being without a pack. He could slip off in the night—maybe he should have done that to begin with, only he didn’t want Devon to wake without him and not know where he had gone, and there was no way to be sure how long this would take.

  Devon shook his head, smiling a little though his eyes were shiny with salt tears. “It’s okay, Lir. I know you have stuff that’s important, you can’t just keep me entertained all the time.”

  It was Lir’s turn to make an almost-annoyed noise. “You’re important. What would an ocean be without sunlight? Just dark and cold from bottom to top, no light, no warmth.”

  Devon smiled wider. “You say the sweetest things. But it’s okay, really, I’m just—” Devon made a face. “Emotional. It’s fine. I’ll fuss over my roses and do some experimental baking, and you’ll be back tonight.”

  Lir kissed the top of his head. “Nothing with the vegetable drawer?”

  Devon giggled. “I can’t make any promises. But trust me, you’ll get your share when you get home.”

  Lir grinned and squeezed him again. “All right. I’ll be as quick as I can, and I swear I’ll be home by dark.”

  “Go then.” Devon gave him a little push. “Sooner you go, sooner you can come back to me, right?”

  “Yes,” Lir agreed, but it was another moment before he could make himself let go of Devon. He bent down and pressed a kiss to the little curve of Devon’s belly, letting himself feel the extra presence there, all minnow-small movements in that secret dark ocean inside. “You be good while I’m gone too.”

  Devon’s hand carded through Lir’s black hair, and Lir sat up to give him one last kiss and then made himself go, barely keeping his land-dweller form for a second once he was out of Devon’s sight. He hurried through the waters of his own domain, arrowing north. Even though he was immersed in the sea, his focus was nearly as tight as when he was in his land-dweller form; he didn’t dare spread out his attention through his domain and risk losing track of time or becoming distracted from this errand.

  He barely greeted Imer, exchanging only the barest courtesies as he crossed through his brother’s domain. Imer understood about having to go North urgently sometimes.

  The border to Father North’s domain was a tangible thing—not only the sharp cold of the Arctic, but the weight of Father’s presence. Lir hesitated, drawing himself into his land-dweller shape to see if Father would meet him in a similar form, to hear his plea.

  Instead, he felt only a lessening of that weight, a sense of Father’s hand lifting. Do what you will.

  For a moment Lir was frozen with gratitude at not having to explain, not having to beg and plead for what he needed.

  It also meant his Father wasn’t going to help him find what he needed, or deliver it to him, but that was all right. It didn’t have to be easy; Lir could find what Devon needed, he was sure of it. He spread out his awareness, slipping out of his land-dweller form and letting himself spread out through th
e icy water.

  There was no danger of him forgetting whose domain he was visiting, but he could feel and read this dark, cold ocean nearly as well as he could his own brighter sea. He extended his attention near to the surface, up through layers of ice, searching for what the ice might be holding suspended between the water and the light...

  There. A body... several bodies, actually, but one was a mile or two off from the rest, and that one... Lir’s attention collected all in one place now, and he found himself slipping into his land-dweller form again without thinking.

  Yes. This one was perfect. Lir could sense that tiny, supernatural spark of life still lingering, but he could taste the age of the ice around it too—this one hadn’t drawn breath or seen the sun in nearly a hundred years. He had the same nature as Devon, not only a werewolf but the same kind—an omega. Just right to keep Devon company and understand what he was feeling about having a baby, all of that. And after all this time, no one would be looking for him.

  In fact, after so long under the ice, he might not even remember where he came from, or what had happened to him. Then he wouldn’t have anything to miss at all, would he?

  “Thank you, Father!” Lir said, a rush of bubbles that made him aware again of the crushing dark and cold. He shifted to a more powerful form to crack this particular block of ice free and begin the process of guiding it south.

  Once he was safely in his own domain—having sped past Imer without pausing to invite any questions about what gift he was bringing home from Father North—he slowed his pace. The lost werewolf was still thoroughly encased in ice; it would begin to melt now that he was in the warmer waters of Lir’s domain. That would go slowly, since even Lir’s domain was not warm at all compared to the proper temperature of a live werewolf.

  But werewolves were strong, and mere dark and cold and time wouldn’t be the end of this one. Lir set up a current that would bring him, slowly, down to the island, giving the ice time to melt. By the time he arrived he would be nearly ready to wake up, and there would be almost no sign left of where he came from.

  He would be a perfect surprise for Devon. Tomorrow. In the meantime, the afternoon sun was already sinking, and Lir needed to hurry home to keep his promise.

  ***

  Chapter 14

  Devon started out carefully distracting himself after Lir left. He wasn’t going to fall apart and cry just because Lir had something to do for the day—honestly, when he thought about it, Lir had been beside him almost nonstop for weeks and weeks now. Months! Devon was sure he could manage a day on his own.

  He started out cleaning up around the house, sorting out the few things they’d already accumulated for the baby. The other day one of the crates that bobbed up to the island had contained a rocking cradle of dark wood that felt old when Devon touched it, and told him that their baby would be part of a family more ancient than any pack.

  Devon was maybe going to have to reconsider his position on having Caroline over for dinner sometime.

  There was also a little mattress, much newer, that fit inside the cradle, and sheets, plus a package of cloth diapers and a few tiny items of baby clothing, all of it snowy white, new and pristine and perfect.

  That just about covered the basics, now that they had a house to keep the baby in and a bed for it to be born in. Still, Devon made a list of a few other things that seemed like a good idea, grinning down at his belly any time that tiny flutter inside seemed to be agreeing with something he put down on his list.

  He baked a cake, because thinking of having Caroline over had made him remember the iced lemon cake that his parents had often served to visitors, and he had a craving for it. He’d usually been allowed a little slice, after his nanny brought him out to say hello to whoever it was. He had always eaten the cake slowly, trying to linger in his parents’ presence as long as possible before they noticed that he was done and sent him away to play.

  Did I go far enough away this time?

  Devon pushed that thought away and focused on the cake, pushing away the memory of his parents’ housekeeper teaching him to make it before he went away to college. Once it was out of the oven the sweet-tart scent of it was too much, and the memories flooded back no matter how hard he tried to ignore them.

  He left the house to escape it and wandered around the island, looking at what had changed lately. The island was still growing all the time, its edges creeping outward day by day just as Devon’s belly rounded out. All the green things on it grew so fast Devon could just about watch them sprouting upward, throwing out leaves and flowers and new branches. Every day the island changed, blossoming all around him. Everything he saw was a sign of Lir’s eagerness to make a place where he could live and be happy, him and their baby and maybe more babies later on.

  Devon plucked a little flower and twirled it between his fingers, running a fingertip over the petals. He loves me, he—

  Oh.

  Devon stopped and looked around the island again, the little gray house like bubbles strung together, with space for it to grow again. The mangrove trees and the grassy hills and the three little rose bushes carefully planted in imported soil, half-sheltered under the house’s narrow eaves.

  He loves me.

  Maybe it should have been obvious all along, but all the same the realization felt new and tender and beautiful. Lir might not think to say it—he hadn’t even known how to give Devon a pet name, and he certainly had no idea how werewolves went about claiming their mates—but it was true. And Devon felt the answering feeling rise up in himself as he thought of Lir—his smile, his body in all its shapes, his quiet, constant presence. Even when he was gone, Devon was surrounded by him: his work, his care. His domain.

  I love him too.

  Devon just stood there smiling until he remembered that Lir wasn’t here to come out and scold him for standing too long in the sun. He went back into the dim coolness of the house and iced his lemon cake, laughing to himself sometimes as he thought it again and again. We’re in love. We’re happy.

  He spent the afternoon sitting at the table with paper and pencils, sketching out a map of the island and making idle plans. They could put a guesthouse to the southwest of their house, where the western hills smoothed out into grassy space. Between the house and the guesthouse they could plant some freshwater trees, or maybe hedges, or a bramble of berry bushes. Something to block off the space a little. And on the near side of the trees, that was where Devon’s garden would go. He would start with containers on top of the sandy ground...

  He used to do this, he remembered. He used to make all kinds of plans. Not big plans, but little ones, homelike ones. He had planned what he would name all his children and what kinds of clothes they would wear, what kind of house they would live in and how it would be furnished. He had planned endless gardens, when he was young and hopeful. When he believed that his future could be full of the things he wanted.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d given up on making plans.

  For just a second he remembered being alone on a yacht in the night, remembered sliding into the sea with a plan that covered only the next few minutes. He had thought it was the last plan he would ever need. And instead...

  Instead he had this. He had everything. A future, a baby, Lir.

  He looked at the laptop sitting on the other side of the table, and thought again of those days when his nanny brought him down to the sitting room or out to the patio to be introduced to his parents’ visitors and eat a slice of lemon cake. He thought, now, of the happy-proud scents of his parents when he reached them, the way their heartbeats kicked up at the sight of him, though of course they knew he was coming, though he was an omega and no one’s favorite.

  He thought of the brush of his father’s thumb, swiping crumbs from around his mouth even when there were no crumbs there. He thought of the touch of his mother’s hand, smoothing his hair even when his nanny had just combed it. He thought that they would like to know that, after all this time, he was safe
and happy, eating lemon cake again.

  He thought of what he’d said to Lir the other night about wishing he had a pack, not yelling at him and wanting him to come home, but just... here, magically, like the flowers and the grass and the island expanding under his feet.

  But that wasn’t what a pack was, not really. To have a pack meant to have people who knew you, who made demands, who had opinions about all your choices, who wanted the best for you according to what they thought was best. And to be part of a pack meant to be the same—to know them, to depend on them, to have opinions about their choices and want what was best for them.

  Even if they were the smallest of packs, just him and Lir and this child, sooner or later it would come to that, wouldn’t it? He would want his child to know land, to know their family, and his child would ask for things, want things, need things, and he would have to face what he’d run away from for their sake.

  He hadn’t done that before now. He hadn’t done his part in the pack, had he? He’d never made anyone listen to what he wanted, never enlisted help from his omega cousins and old aunties to make his parents understand. He’d just fallen down into his own sadness and run away when he couldn’t bear it anymore—and now here he was, far from his pack, who might well think he was dead, or lost forever somehow.

  If he wanted a pack, he knew where to find one. He knew what he had to do. Devon bit his lip and pushed all his pages of plans aside, reaching for the laptop. He had just pushed the screen up when he heard Lir call out from the north beach, “Sunlight! I’m home!”

  Devon laughed and covered his face with one hand, and resolved never to tell Lir that he had that phrase almost right. His whole body was awake and thrumming with hope and certainty, and at the sound of Lir coming toward him, Lir’s heart beating fast and eager, he let himself push the computer aside.