Surrendered to the Sea

by Dessa Lux

  Lir winced, thinking of it. He’d bleed a lot more, this far inland.

  “Come on,” Devon said. “Get your clothes off, I’m going to go see what we’ve got in the kitchen to make this a little more like home for you.”

  Lir didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he wasted no time stripping out of his land-dweller clothes and sliding into the bath, for all that the water didn’t even reach his bent knees when he sat down. It was such a relief to have that cool touch on him, he scarcely noticed anything else until Devon returned.

  He was carrying one transparent cylinder full of white crystals, and one blue and white box. “Sea salt, Epsom salts,” Devon said, gesturing with each. “I don’t know if either one will feel any good to you, but...”

  Lir reached for the containers, sniffing one and then the other, and poured a generous portion of each into the water. It did feel a little better balanced that way, not so howlingly empty.

  It was still only water, though, vacant of life, of all the thousand elements that made the sea the sea. He looked at Devon then, as it struck him fully that he had been doing the same when he tried to keep Devon happy on their island, making him an empty little simulation of land in the midst of his own domain. If he had to stay here forever, if Devon were the one struggling to make him a safe little habitat in the midst of all this land...

  His heart ached all over again at the thought of what he’d subjected Devon to with his clumsy attempts to keep his land-dweller happy.

  “I’m sorry,” Lir said. Devon had been using a cloth and his foot to wipe up drips of Lir’s blood from the bathroom floor, and his whole body jerked at the words, before he turned to look at Lir.

  “I’m sorry,” Lir repeated, helpless to even begin to say it better than that. “I don’t even know all the things I need to be sorry for, but I know that I failed you, sunlight, in a thousand ways. I frightened you and I kept you from the people you needed, the places you needed, and—”

  Devon came over to perch on the edge of the tub, pressing his fingers over Lir’s mouth. He didn’t say anything right away, but Lir was content to be quiet, to wait until Devon either said his own piece or wished Lir to say more.

  “Thank you,” Devon said finally. “For... for knowing that, and for regretting it. And for coming here to tell me so, even though it was hard to do.”

  Lir touched his hand to his heart, and Devon squeezed his eyes shut, letting a few tears escape to roll down his cheeks. Lir remembered the tears Devon had shed the night everything went wrong, frightened by the storm, by Lir himself.

  “I want you to understand, I... I wasn’t in a good place when we met. I mean, I threw myself into the sea, but that wasn’t all of it. Even after, when you—when you were taking care of me, for a while, I—I wasn’t any good at knowing what I needed. What was good for me. So you guessed, and did your best, and you were—you were great, Lir. You were so kind and so good to me.”

  Lir raised his hand from his heart to Devon’s hand, still pressed over his mouth. Devon dashed his other hand across his eyes.

  “I just—I mostly felt better, after my heat, having the baby to look forward to, and you to—” Devon’s voice broke, and he shook his head.

  “But I still... I was still just letting you take care of me, make up your own mind about what was good for me. I’m not saying you didn’t fuck things up, but... I let you. I didn’t tell you what I really needed. And I’ve been thinking that if I did tell you, if I told you that I need my parents to be able to visit the island, and we need to really work on making things right for Harry somehow, and I’m going to need to visit land sometimes—me and the baby both, we’re going to have to leave the island for a while, maybe a few times a year—”

  Lir’s grip on Devon’s hand tightened, because those were—those were conditions for Devon coming back. Coming home. Living on the island with him again, raising their baby there, as long as Lir followed the rules.

  He nodded frantically. He would follow whatever rules Devon gave him, if Devon could only be happy, and be his. Mostly his, as much as Devon wanted to be.

  Devon’s palm pressed harder against his lips, and Devon said, “And I need to be your partner, not just someone you take care of. I need to help take care of you, to make sure you have what you need. Mar told us about what Father North said to you, and why. He told us about William. Do you remember...?”

  Lir flinched, not so much at the memory of William as the knowledge that Mar had told that story to Devon—and Harry—instead of letting him tell it himself.

  Lir moved his hand to Devon’s wrist, tugging gently, and Devon glanced down and said, “There’s no room, Lir.”

  Lir widened his eyes and tugged, and Devon sighed but also stood up enough to slip his pants off, kicking them away before he turned to lower himself warily into the tub. Lir helped, and he wound up barely in the water, knees hooked over the side of the tub as he half-sat, half-floated over Lir’s lap.

  Still, Lir could wrap his arms around Devon, round belly and all, and hold on to him as he said, “I don’t know exactly what Mar told you—he probably knows more about what happened at the end, and after, than I do.”

  Devon’s fingers ran through Lir’s hair, from the crown of his head down to the nape of his neck. He let go only long enough to reach down and dip up some water in his hand, and he poured it over Lir’s head like he was anointing him. Like a blessing.

  “Mar said that you vanished, afterward. That you just... didn’t exist at all, almost, because you couldn’t bear it. And I think... you came close to doing that the other night, too, didn’t you? The storm—you weren’t trying to scare me. It was just how you felt. Too much to bear. And then you just went away into it, didn’t you?”

  Lir nodded against his side, holding on tight.

  “I think we’re a little bit the same,” Devon said softly. “Because that was what made me go into the sea, too. I couldn’t bear my life on land. I was sad, and I felt alone, and like things would never get better. I didn’t know how to get the life I wanted, or how to ask anyone for help to make things better. And I regretted it, after a few minutes, when I realized that when I was dead nothing would ever get better. And you... you came back. You came back and you fixed the roses.”

  “You taught me,” Lir said quietly. “You asked me for that. To stay, to come back to you, and now it never feels natural anymore to stay out in my domain for too long. There’s always something tugging at me, saying, you’ve been away from the island for too long. So I came back, and Mar told me you were safe, at least. And that meant... even if you didn’t want to see me again, it wasn’t like William. You weren’t just gone. So I couldn’t be either, not really.”

  Devon’s hand came around to his chin, tugging up to make him look, and he met Devon’s eyes, because he had to.

  “Someday I’ll be gone for real,” Devon said quietly. “You can keep me out of trouble, but you can’t stop that. Not forever. Werewolves live a long time, but not like the sea. Not like you.”

  Lir felt wetness on his face, and thought distantly that he shouldn’t be wasting salt water like that.

  “But there will be something that lives on,” Devon added, drawing one of Lir’s hands to rest on his belly. “Our children, or grandchildren, or the grandchildren of our pack—there will always be more life, Lir. Even if it’s not mine. You won’t be alone. I’ll do everything I can to build us a family and a pack that lasts, so you won’t be left alone. So you can stay. So you can live, and remember me.”

  Lir wasn’t sure that he could open his mouth and promise in words, though he knew that Devon was serious. Before he could summon the strength to try, he felt a little bump against his palm from inside Devon’s belly. His breath caught and then escaped him all at once in a laugh, wild with delight.

  “Was that—Devon? Was that the baby?”

  Devon nodded, curling down to hold Lir, contorting a little to kiss him. “You’re outnumbered now, Lir. So you’ll just
have to do as we say.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lir agreed, and that felt like promise enough to be getting on with.

  ***

  Chapter 22

  Of course, trying to do things differently this time meant that Devon couldn’t just run back to the island with Lir the moment he’d decided to go.

  Harry came back after he and Lir had gotten out of the bath. Neither of them had actually gotten dressed again yet, but they were safely in Devon’s bedroom with the door shut, kissing lazily, hands running over each other’s skin, when Devon heard Harry approach the house.

  Devon drew back a little and saw Lir looking more uncertain than he’d ever seen. Devon kissed him quickly, not knowing how else to answer the unspoken question. He didn’t know whether Harry would forgive Lir, or what he would choose to do when Devon went back to the island with him.

  He sat up and said firmly, “Clothes.”

  Lir helped him scoot out of bed, and then made a cut-off sound when Devon scooped up the pile of their clothes that Lir had brought in from the bathroom when they came to the bedroom. Devon looked at him, and then looked down at the clothes, and saw something purple protruding from one pocket of Lir’s pants.

  Lir said, “I meant to—they’re for the baby, I meant to give them to you properly, I just...”

  Devon tugged the purple thing free, and a gray one came with it: a tiny plush octopus and an equally tiny plush wolf, both of them velvety soft.

  He understood instantly: the baby was the offspring of a wolf and a sea god, and might shift into any number of forms, including something like these. And Lir had made sure to get a toy to represent each, and had carried them with him, all this way, not knowing what Devon would say.

  For an instant he could imagine some other future, where he had said no, stayed angry or afraid or just kept running away. Where all his baby had of Lir were these two toys, and a longing for salt water.

  Tears sprang to his eyes and he pressed the little toys to his chest with one hand, reaching for Lir with the other as he reminded himself that that wasn’t happening, hadn’t happened, couldn’t possibly happen. Lir had come for him, and Devon had wanted him to, and they would be together with their baby, a family of mismatched shifters on their island in the sea.

  Lir caught his hand and pulled him close, holding him and nuzzling at his hair while Devon struggled to get his breathing under control. The tears leaked no matter what, and Devon didn’t bother trying to stop them, just let them fall against Lir’s skin.

  “Does that—” his breath was still shaky, and he knew it was a stupid question, but he wanted to think of anything that wasn’t how wrong things could have gone. “Does that—feel like sea water to you?”

  “No,” Lir murmured. “It feels like I’ve made my mate cry somehow and I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry, sunlight, I—”

  Devon shook his head, clutching the little toys tighter and pressing his forehead against Lir’s shoulder. “No, you—this was right. This was perfect. I just—”

  He shook his head again, beyond explaining how his moods tended to overwhelm him lately.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he finally managed to whisper, the words coming out high and strained.

  “I’m glad too,” Lir murmured, and it was a while after that before they could both get dressed and go say hello to Harry.

  *

  Harry was in the kitchen, in human form, when Devon and Lir emerged from Devon’s room. He gave them one sweeping look up and down and said, “Patched things up, then?”

  Devon squeezed Lir’s hand and nodded.

  “With Devon,” Lir said. “But I know I have much to mend with you, as well.”

  Harry drew back a little at that, folding his arms across his chest. Lir squeezed Devon’s hand and then let go, moving to sit across from Harry at the table. Devon stayed where he was, uncertain of where to place himself to help this go smoothly.

  “I’m sorry,” Lir said, without waiting for Devon to make up his mind, all his attention on Harry. “I treated you as if your life were mine to arrange, and of no more value than as a companion for Devon. And I thank you for wishing to protect Devon from me, and for helping to send me out of his presence until I could speak to him without frightening him.”

  Harry looked over at Devon, eyes a bit wide, and Devon went to sit by him, then knowing that if Lir could make an apology like that, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way if Devon focused on reassuring Harry. He took Harry’s hand in his and offered a little smile across the table at Lir, who smiled briefly back before focusing on Harry again.

  “I also have to ask you a question, Harry. How many members of your pack were with you before you froze?”

  Devon felt the jolt that ran through Harry’s body at the question and what it implied. His grip on Devon’s hand tightened, and he said, “We—we had gotten separated. I had, at least, the others were probably still—”

  Lir nodded. “How many?”

  “Five,” Harry said, his words speeding. “All werewolves, bitten, not born, they—if you—”

  “I know where they are,” Lir said, nodding. “A couple of miles from where I found you—not far in the scheme of things, but far enough to have lost each other in a storm, for certain. They were in ice, like you. And I think, the way things are going, I will be able to persuade Father North to release them. They could be brought to the island, or I can ask my brother Mar—”

  “The island would be—” Harry looked over at Devon. “I mean, if—”

  “Of course,” Devon said, leaning into Harry’s side, his eyes filling with tears at the hesitant hope radiating from the omega at his side. “Of course, they’re welcome. You’re all welcome.”

  There was a quiet moment while Harry gulped air without being able to speak. Devon extended his free hand across the table to Lir, and Lir grabbed it and held on tight, raising his eyebrows a little as he did, as if to ask, Did I get that right?

  Devon nodded emphatically and squeezed his hand. Yes, you did.

  *

  Of course, Harry wasn’t even the most difficult person Devon was going to have to explain this to. After considering all of his limited options, Devon leaned into Lir’s chest and said, “I have to tell my parents where I’m going this time.”

  Lir’s arms closed around him. “Do you think they’ll disapprove?”

  Devon laughed a little against Lir’s chest. “I honestly have no idea. But I’m not asking them to approve, really. I’m just... not disappearing without a trace this time.”

  Lir made a noncommittal little sound and kissed the top of his head. “I should probably meet them before I take you away again, though, shouldn’t I? If I were a wolf, that would be the proper way.”

  Harry, in the next room, burst out in a wild peal of laughter; Devon managed to keep his silent, but he knew Lir could feel it shaking his body.

  “What?” Lir squeezed him a little tighter. “Come on, I know we didn’t do it right the first time.”

  “We are so far from proper,” Devon managed to gasp out. “I can’t even—” He gave up and laughed helplessly, and Lir huffed and kissed his hair again.

  “Well, it won’t take much to move us a little closer, then,” Lir decided firmly. “Should we call them?”

  The idea of that made the breath stop in Devon’s lungs. “I’ll... send them a picture,” Devon decided. “That should bring them running, and then we can either sort things out or just run away.”

  “Whichever’s quickest?” Lir ran a hand over Devon’s belly. “I want to get you home soon, sunlight.”

  “This... definitely will get things in motion.” Devon got his phone out and squirmed around in Lir’s arms as he held it up. It occurred to him that he’d never actually taken a selfie of the two of them before; this was a hell of a way to start. He snapped off a dozen and then scrolled through them.

  He stopped on the fifth, which showed Lir biting his lip, his face partly obscu
red by Devon’s hair as he tucked himself close. His possessive grip on Devon was obvious, but he looked shy, too, uncertain of his reception, in contrast to Devon’s defiantly bright grin. He felt his mouth stretching with a wider smile as he looked at it. Perfect.

  He sent it off to his parents with a few taps of his thumb, adding a follow-up message almost as quickly.

  Lir came to find me and apologize.

  He wants me to come back home with him, and I want to go. We’ll be better about keeping in touch this time.

  “Now what?” Lir murmured, having obviously watched over his shoulder as he sent the pic and messages.

  “Now we—” Devon cut off as the incoming text alert appeared.

  DON’T YOU GO ANYWHERE WITH HIM UNTIL WE GET THERE.

  “Yep,” Devon said. “Won’t take long at all. Come on, let’s see if there’s time to make a cake before they descend upon us.”

  *

  Devon was just pulling the cake out of the oven when he heard his parents’ rental car hurrying up the lane. He inhaled the lemony-sweet scent and only rolled his eyes a little at the flurry of reaction from Lir and Harry behind him.

  They had somehow managed to bond, in the last forty-three minutes, over their anxious determination to physically fight Devon’s parents if that was what it took to get Devon back to the island. No amount of explanation from Devon that that really wasn’t how things worked nowadays in civilized packs had made a dent in their level of tension, so Devon had left them to prowl the edges of the cottage while he baked.

  They followed him when he headed out the front door to meet his parents, flanking him on either side.

  The car had barely stopped before his mom was springing out of the passenger door, his dad following only a few seconds later. They both rushed toward him, and he saw the moment when they both took in Lir’s uncanny scent and stopped short.