by Kelex
“Well, if you hear of anything—please, let us know. We’re staying here at the inn until we head out the day after tomorrow.”
“Aye,” the constable said. “I’ll find ya if I hear anything.” He rose from his seat, taking his pint and belongings with him. “I appreciate tha ale, gents. But I need ta make tha rounds and see if there’s any misbehavin’.”
Oz tipped his hat. “If any of our men get into trouble, talk to Mr. Tyler, our quartermaster.”
The constable angled his head, offering a bright smile filled with multicolored teeth. “Ah, Mr. Tyler. He and I go way back.”
Dagr watched as the constable ambled over to their quartermaster and gave the man a big hug.
“Well… Llyr’s not missing. From here, at least,” Oz stated. “And he’s not on the run from the local authorities. So what do we do now?”
“Could he have been tossed overboard from another passing ship? Maybe we should start asking some of the others here in port if they’re missing a crewman.”
Oz glanced at Dagr. “Tomorrow. Tonight was supposed to be ours. We can talk to the other crews in the light of day.” He drained the rest of his pint and hailed Myra again. She soon sauntered over and refilled his pint. “Any more rooms available, love?”
“Nay. Charlie gave ya tha good room he saves for his very best customers… and it was also tha last.”
“Damn,” Oz growled.
No more room in the inn and a man in the bed they’d planned to share.
“Ye could always share mine,” Myra offered, waggling her eyebrows. She moved in close and lowered her voice. “And I don’ mind that ye’d be wantin’ one ‘nother as much as I.”
Oz smiled up at her. “I’ve sailed all nine seas and you’re my favorite barmaid in all the world—even more so now—but I promised Dagr a night all of his own. It’ll be our last voyage for some time. I owe him that.”
Myra’s smile faded. “Last voyage? But why?”
“Duty calls,” Oz answered. “Hopefully we won’t be grounded long.” He turned his attention to Dagr. “Well—I’ll be the one grounded. Dagr will be… free… to move on. Without me.” A shine came to Oz’s eyes.
Pain lanced Dagr’s chest.
Myra only frowned harder. “Nay. It can’t be.”
Oz tore his gaze from Dagr, his lips two thin lines. “I’m afraid it is.”
Tears shone brightly in Myra’s eyes. “I’ll miss me best customers. Such gents—posh and all. Yet ye never look down yer nose like tha others do.”
Dagr took her hand and brought it to his lips. After a brief kiss to the back, he grinned up at her. She lowered her pitcher to the table and squeezed in closer to hug them both and kiss their foreheads. When she backed away, she had the shine of tears in her eyes. “When do ye leave?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Oz answered.
Myra winced. “I’ll see what I can do ta find ya ‘nother room.”
“Thank you,” Oz said, squeezing Myra’s hand.
He cast a glance at Oz as Myra hurried off to refill more pints and quarts.
“Do we search for lodgings elsewhere? Just in case?” Dagr asked.
“Where?”
There were no other inns in the port town they deemed safe. They could, of course, go back to the ship and sleep there—but after many weeks spent onboard, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He doubted Oz did, either. Deep down he realized they both craved to share that bed upstairs with Llyr. Was fate forcing their hand?
Pitiful excuse. We can’t blame fate or the lack of free beds for our slip in moral fortitude.
“I know you wish otherwise, but we can return to my cabin for the night once we’ve eaten. The ship will be fairly quiet. Only a few men remained aboard to keep watch,” Oz murmured.
“What about Llyr?”
“Any other time and we’d likely welcome him into our bed. With all that lovely, pale skin and that long, lean body. He’s exactly the kind of man we’d take between us.”
“Please stop.” Dagr closed his eyes, lust slamming into him. “I meant—I thought we were giving him our decision tonight? Though, it’s not as if we’ve come to one.”
Oz eyed him, seeming has haggard as Dagr felt. “We have no idea what his intentions are.” He drained the last of his ale. “I hate this uncertainty. We can’t touch him, Dag… we truly can’t. And it’s killing me.”
“Me, too,” Dagr countered. “Perhaps that’s something we can do on the morrow. Find a white witch who might be able to tell us if we’ve been spellbound. Then we’d have our answer to that concern.”
“Good thinking,” Oz said. “Maybe we take the merman to her, too. Let her get a good look at him and see what she says. Maybe she can fix his head while she’s at it.”
“I’m sure there’s one close to town. There usually is.”
Oz lifted a hand to catch Myra’s attention once more. Once she turned toward him, he lifted his empty cup and she nodded.
“You might need to slow down and keep your wits about you,” Dagr murmured.
“My wits left a long time ago,” Oz muttered.
“You’ll struggle to find oblivion in the bottom of a tankard. And even if you did, it only causes problems of its own,” Dagr replied.
Oz focused on him. “The only oblivion I want is in your arms.” Oz grinned at him. “The more I drink, the easier I’ll be. No fights as to who dominates.”
Dagr chuckled. They both leaned toward dominance, and there was often a tug of war to see who would be the one to eventually surrender. “Hell… the fight’s half the fun.” A movement at the edge of the tavern caught his eye. He shifted his gaze and saw a new arrival in their midst. “Well, we might not have one problem much longer. Perhaps he decided to leave on his own.”
Oz’s head spun to stare in the direction Dagr was staring. “Bloody hell.”
4
Llyr slowly crept down the stairs into the tavern. Heads turned with each of his steps, the singing quieting. All eyes were on him… it was quite uncomfortable. Men whispered to others beside them … and the whispering grew to a humming murmur through the crowd. He was used to being an object of curiosity. When the castle was opened to guests and he was commanded to stand at his father’s side—they would all come look their fill.
But there, he had his nobility to hide behind. Guards that would keep everyone at a distance. Now, he lacked that protective veneer.
He was all the more vulnerable.
“Please… continue singing. It sounded so joyful. It drew me downstairs,” Llyr said to those in the tavern.
Silence reigned a few more heartbeats. He quickly took a seat at the end of one of the long trestle tables, trying to make himself smaller. Trying to fit into the crowd and cause them to forget he was there. Thankfully, the singing started up soon after. Minute by minute, the volume rose until they were once again raucous and merry. Llyr smiled. He lost himself among their celebration, and that allowed him to watch them closely. Intimately. There was such comradery between the men of the ship, much like those who worked together at the palace.
He’d spied on the washer-merwomen and servants when they thought they were alone—and they would joke and laugh together. Their giggling had seemed so free yet Llyr had only experienced a powerful loneliness in those moments. He had one friend—but Ryland had grown distant after joining the castle guard. His brothers, both alphas being prepared to potentially lead their people, had little time left for him. Add in the fact they both blamed him for the death of their papa, and what time they did have was tense. The only person consistently in his life was his father’s spy, entrusted to prevent him from having any kind of adventures or friendships.
The whole castle is likely up in arms right now!
He smiled, pleased with that idea. Llyr turned his attentions back to the fun before him. The rowdy songs were sung by nearly every man in the room, and he wished he knew the words. There was such pleasure in their celebrating, and it did his heart good
. Llyr clapped along with the beat of the music, trying to be a part of the fun.
Here, he was no cosseted prince. No one guarded him. He could have the familiarity of friendships.
And the intimacy of lovers.
Searching the room, he found the men he yearned to be the latter. Near the back of the tavern, sharing a table in the shadows. His stare met Dagr’s first… and a shiver raced down his spine from the longing in the man’s eyes. Slanting his gaze to the left, he caught Oz’s fiery regard. Was it anger or longing, he wondered. Llyr had broken their rules… he refused to stay alone in the room upstairs… but he’d waited long enough for their return, he thought.
Plus the promised dinner and drink had never appeared—which had been another reason he’d come down. Besides the fact he was starving, Dagr and Oz had apparently forgotten about him… and he refused to let them forget about him.
Not for an instant.
The scent of food passing on a tray seized his notice. His belly growled painfully. Llyr had no idea if he could stomach their food, but he was hungry enough to try. Lifting a hand, he attempted to get the attention of one of the servants, but no one seemed to notice him. Llyr chuckled to himself. At home, he barely had to lift a finger before a servant raced to his side. While he rather liked being a nobody, it also had its disadvantages.
But the good already seemed to outweigh the bad. He sensed Dagr and Oz were that good.
There was most definitely a connection to the pair. He could sense it. He could also sense them watching him. Their desire raged against his skin. A delightful tingling raced all over, his skin radiating warmth. His body responded to the men without a single touch—and would respond all the more with a caress or two. Slick coated him in preparation. He only had to convince the two he could warm their bed.
Glancing their way, he was breathless… both of them scrutinizing him with ravenousness in their stares.
He locked gazes with Oz…
Then Dagr…
He gasped at the thought of being between their big, powerful bodies. Their strong hands and lips touching him everywhere… their cocks driving into him. Slick dripped between his cheeks. He shuddered, his womb clenching.
Yet Llyr knew nothing of seduction. For all his bluster, he worried he would be unable to draw them into his bed. He froze where he sat, fearful to move an inch. They’d already been able to walk away from him twice now, even as he saw the hunger in their eyes. What if mating and flirtation were different in the human world? It was a thought he neglected to consider. Were there rules to their mating rituals,—rules to which he was unaware? Doubt flooded his heart and mind, making him wonder if he was brave enough to ask them for what he desired.
Needed.
He drew in a shuddering breath, realizing it was no game. While the end result would benefit him, it was more than a means to an end. He wished for their touch with a desperation he’d never experienced. In their hands, he find freedom—in more ways than one.
He wanted the pair to unchain him—from his duty and his body’s need. It had to be them. Had to be…
Another song began, the chorus of voices loud… yet muted, too. The lust driving in his veins and the pounding of his heart overrode the sounds of the tavern. When he saw Oz stand and stride nearer, he stiffened. His heartbeat grew considerably louder, and he whispered a silent plea over and over again…
Make them crave me…
“Da oth’r mornin'… I was walkin' by tha seashore… Whilst I spied a young maid ramblin'… Wiff her sails all a-quiver…” Oz hoisted his refilled pint high into the air as he belted out the old shanty, his voice one of many. Droplets of ale trickled out from the side and down his hand before he brought it to lips to drain some. He sought not to gaze at Llyr as he sang, but knew full well the merman was staring intently as he grew nearer. Oz felt the heat of the man’s stare. The impetus to inch closer was a heavy burden on his body, traitorous as it was.
He’d a moment ago agreed with Dagr that they had to deny their desire. That they must stay away. Yet there he was, being drawn in like a horny stallion to a breeding mare, sniffing and prancing like the base animal he was. Casting a glance toward Dagr, he could sense the scorn coming in waves. After catching his partner’s scathing glare, he shrugged and offered a wry smile. He reverted to his singing and drinking, ignoring both the men he coveted fiercely.
By the time he’d emptied his mug, the song was over and they’d begun another one—one he’d sadly forgotten many of the words for. He smiled at his men, knowing they were happy to be at port and to have a day off before they’d replenish and return to sea. Searching for a barmaid, he spied Llyr from the corner of his eye.
He’d long ago mastered the looking, but not looking skill. He searched the man over—wearing his clothing. His gut clenched so see his finest shirt and breeches covering the man’s soft, beautiful skin. His long hair was mostly held in a thick braid that fell over one shoulder. Oz sucked in a breath as he spied the man’s handsome elven-like face. Llyr’s skin glowed with health… and his lips were shell pink, and full.
Lips Oz desperately wanted to kiss.
Llyr seemed completely recuperated from his recent drowning. As if it had never happened.
A wave of need washed over Oz like a siren’s call. His heartbeat juddered in his chest. Licking his lips, he wondered what it would feel like to have the man between him and Dagr.
Concentrating on Llyr, he closed the gap.
Llyr stared up at him, appearing remorseful.
“I thought you were going to remain upstairs?”
“I was unable to sleep. Not with all the merrymaking down here.” He smiled guiltily. “And I was hungry. I never got anything to eat.”
“I asked for a meal to be sent up.” Oz sighed. “You might as well join us for ours.”
A bright smile spread across Llyr’s face as he popped up from his seat. “Gladly.”
Llyr beat him back to the table and stole his seat next to Dagr. With a grunt, Oz took the seat opposite.
“What do we owe for the pleasure of Llyr’s company?” Dagr asked Oz through clenched teeth.
“He never got his meal. He’s hungry. And so am I. Might as well have a meal for three versus two. Less work for Myra.”
Dagr only eyed him, one brow raised.
Later, he’d blame the ale for that decision. Mayhap that was why he had drained several pints thus far that eve—deniability. Ignoring Dagr’s glare, he waved Myra over and cancelled the dinner upstairs. “Just bring us enough for three, please. And our guest needs ale.”
Myra judiciously eyed the third man at the table before nodding and heading toward the kitchen. They sat in an uncomfortable silence until she returned a moment later with a pint for Llyr. “Here ye are, sir.”
Once she was gone, Llyr lifted the pint to his nose and inhaled. “What is this?”
“Ale?” Oz asked.
Llyr eyed him a moment before taking a sip from his pint. A frown furrowed his brow before a smile blossomed on his face. “Oh… that’s very good. Very good, indeed.”
Oz grinned down at the man. “The food and spirits here are some of the best I’ve ever had… and I’ve quite literally been around the world.”
“It’s splendid,” Llyr remarked before draining the rest of his pint. “What’s it called again?”
Oz frowned. “Ale.”
“Ale,” Llyr repeated. “I like this ale very much.” He took another, longer sip. “Almost as good as wine.”
“You’ve had wine but not ale?” Dagr asked.
“Yes… my father has many casks he had pulled off some of your shipwrecks. A whole room filled with them, in fact. He says humans got a whole lot wrong, but wine they did not.”
Oz chuckled to himself. “Your father doesn’t care for humans, hmm?”
“No. He says you’re a dangerous lot and have an innate desire to destroy one another. If you ever learned of us, you’d add us to your list.”
“Then why
were you so eager to tell us what you were?” Dagr asked.
Oz regarded Llyr, seeing the man’s mild surprise at Dagr’s question—one he would’ve thought himself had he not been muddied by drink.
“I… I don’t kn—I had a feeling. In my gut. That you two were trustworthy.” He took another sip from his mug. “That you would… protect me.” His face went red, and he looked down. “This must sound ridiculous to you both. It sounds ridiculous to me when I say it. You’re both strangers to me…” He lifted his stare slightly. “Yet… I feel… ”
“As if you already know me,” Oz said to fill in the blanks. It was exactly what he felt. His soul had met its match. But that was at war with the love he had for Dagr, too. He turned and eyed his lover and saw sorrow in the man’s eyes. “As if you already know us.”
“I suppose that’s what you could call it,” Llyr murmured. “I’ve always trusted my gut. It tells me you’re safe.” He spun, placing a hand on top of Dagr’s hand. “Both of you.”
Dagr gazed at Llyr’s hand on his, hunger in his eyes. “I wish we could trust in you as much as you trust in us.”
Llyr’s smile faded. “I’ve done nothing to cause you to think you can’t. Or have I?”
Dagr tugged his hand away and lifted his stare to Llyr. “I’ve been in love with the man across this table for as long as I can remember. And I’ve never experienced as powerful a pull toward anyone as I do you. That, in and of itself, seems like an affront to that love I have for him. You, I’ve just met. Him, I’ve known more than twenty years. How should I feel about this?”
Llyr was unsure how to reply to Dagr’s question. His plan had been to have one or the each of them in his bed. Now, that could prove dangerous. Not to him. To them. He refused to come between two lovers… yet he, too, felt the magnetic pull driving them on a collision course.
Dagr continued. “The attraction seems natural… yet unnatural in its potency. Why would I feel these things for a stranger? It makes no sense… unless it’s a spell of some kind. And if that’s the case—you’re more dangerous than any man I’ve ever known.”
