The Sea God's Pirate Mate: M/M Gay Fantasy Romance (M/M Gay Paranormal Romance)

by J B Black

  When the door shut behind him, Ned turned his attention back upon the younger man. “You weren’t drowning. You never came up at all, and I don’t think you needed to, so something else caused you to pass out. What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Bellamy confessed.

  “You don’t know?”

  The younger man wiggled his toes and fingers, relieved he could feel them once more. “I didn’t need to breathe, but the longer I stayed down, the more pain I was in.”

  “So maybe you do need to breathe, but not doing so wouldn’t have killed you thanks to the cuff,” the captain suggested.

  Although that might have made sense, something in the memory of the paralyzing pain and numbness suggested otherwise to Bellamy. “It was gradual. Starting in the toes and then I couldn’t move. The pain got too much, so I passed out.”

  Sitting down where Matthias had sat before, Ned ran a hand through his dark hair. “What do you know about magic?”

  “Not much.”

  “Magic as powerful as that cuff has to have a built in weakness. Nothing that strong comes out right without some sort of glaring hole in its guard. We’re heading to a cave where we often store large bounty like this. While we’re there, I want to test this. I believe that prolonged exposure to water will result in paralysis. If I’m right, you can be trapped beneath the water, kept alive by the cuff but in constant pain,” the dark-haired man informed him. Folding his arms over his chest, Ned leaned back in the chair. “If I’m right, you should get off at the next port.”

  “No!” Bellamy shot up, fighting the spots in his vision as he protested, “This is on me. I can’t swim! If I learn —”

  But Ned shook his head. “We’ll give you supplies. Get you set up with a friend or two. A ship is no place for someone who can’t be in the water.”

  “Or I could learn to swim! If I learn how to swim, I can get out of the water. I was down there a long time, it wasn't instantaneous!” Bellamy argued, but he could see the other man would not be swayed.

  “This isn’t a punishment. You’ll get your share of the gold, and I’ll make sure you’re set up,” the captain promised, but his eyes dropped to the cuff, suggesting another option.

  No matter how much time passed, Bellamy could never forget the weight of the cuff upon his wrist. When he first stole the golden bracelet and clasped it upon his forearm, he shrunk to size, humming as the spell activated. The weight hadn’t remained. Maybe he simply became used to it, but he never leaned to one side due to the heaviness of it. Instead, an itch beneath his skin haunted him. The cuff didn’t move. For all he knew, the flesh beneath rotted away or would eventually grow to envelop the metal.

  If he removed it, any man on board would be insane not to take it. No matter how kind they were to him, trust never fully came. He learned that well on land, and no matter how much the latest haul in the ship’s belly owed iself to him, the men aboard were pirates. A mouth fed one day could bite the next.

  “I need it.”

  A dark brow rose. With a sigh, Ned tilted his head. “Why?”

  “I’m human.”

  “And?”

  Bowing his head, Bellamy let out a slow breath. “I’m a human, but my mother wasn’t.” Both of the captain’s brows rose, but he didn’t say anything, so the younger man continued, “She was a selkie. I didn’t know, but my father trapped her. When I was four, my father fell ill. Half-crazed, he pulled me aside and whispered about a chest which I was to run and hide if he died. He said if I didn’t, my mother would leave me.” Running a hand through his dirty blond hair, he fought back the cold which always threatened to overtake him when he remembered the desperation in his dying father’s eyes. “My father wasn’t a kind man. He taught me my letters young, determined I be a man of substance, and he would whip me when I got my lessons even the slightest bit wrong, so when my mother asked me to give her the chest, I did.”

  His voice trembled, and he clenched his jaw, fighting back the tears and exhaustion which rose up at the memories. The weight of Ned’s hand upon his own startled Bellamy, but seeing the gentle patience in the captain’s eyes, the blond continued, “She opened it, showed me the pelt, and said that she would be back. I didn’t understand. My father died that night, and she never returned. Eight days later, the priests found me there — waiting for her.”

  “That sounds terrifying. Especially for someone so young, but you don’t need that protection now. You have us,” Ned assured him, but the calmness of the words failed to reassure the younger man.

  “I stayed in that house for eight days. We had no food because my father could not go out and buy it. It was early spring, so our stores for winter were empty. I was half-dead when they found me, and the landlord had me removed, not even letting me take anything but the clothes on my back,” Bellamy told him. “Until I have found her and gotten my answers, I will not take this cuff off. I need it.”

  “Why? It won’t lead you to your mother.”

  Bellamy met the other’s dark gaze. “But it will keep me safe when I confront those capable of finding her for me. Gods or sorcerers or even a warlock, with this on my wrist, I could walk into the Underworld without fear.”

  Withdrawing his hand, Ned leaned back in his chair once more. His dark eyes flicked to the door and then back to Bellamy’s face. Consideration made his gaze all the heavier.

  “You recognize your father’s cruelty.”

  “It doesn’t excuse her abandonment of me. I am her son,” Bellamy returned, knotting his fingers in the blankets tucked around him.

  Ned nodded. “True, she shouldn’t have left you to die for what your father did, but what do you know about selkies?”

  “They can’t transform without their pelts. If you have the pelt, you can enslave them. They live in pods, staying mostly in their seal form. Some legends say that once they return to the sea, they can’t return for a certain length of time,” Bellamy recited what he had learned from the whispers he had gathered on the street and the bits of books he managed to read during his work as a messenger. “They generally have dark hair. Dark eyes. Extremely beautiful.” With each phrase, Ned nodded, and Bellamy frowned, studying the man’s face. “You’re not a selkie, are you?”

  Laughing brightly, the captain smiled. “Glad to hear you think I’m beautiful.”

  “I wouldn’t say that…”

  “It doesn’t matter, kid. What are you going to do when you find her? What answers are you expecting?” Ned asked, and when Bellamy struggled to swallow, the older man held out water for him to drink. “We’ll test the cuff in shallow water. It’ll be good if you know how to swim either way, and if you have a weakness, you ought to know what it is.” Taking a swig of his own mug, which was filled with grog, the captain sighed. “Funny though. Your mother’s a selkie — always drawn to the sea, but with that cuff on, you’d die in it.”

  Bellamy shrugged, and after a few more sips, he said, “Considering I’m human, not much different than before.”

  “No, I suppose it isn’t.”

  Chapter Seven

  Returning to the cliffs that he loved, Nereus smiled as he saw the rainbows which crossed in the sky. Flowers bloomed out of season, and in the small hidden away cottage — just as he had sensed — his half-brother stood with a hand upon the curve of his gravid belly. Side by side with a blond-haired warlock, Athanasius looked happier than the sea god had ever seen him.

  Rushing in on a wave, Nereus smiled. “Brother,” he called. “I bring amusing news.”

  “Nereus?” Athanasius called in confusion, and the other nodded, jumping to land upon the grass as the wave receded. “I haven’t seen you in centuries.”

  “It’s rather difficult to get inland as a god of the sea,” Nereus explained. His bright eyes traveled to the blond — who Ione’s letter said was named Castor. “And you must be my brother’s husband.”

  “Warlock Castor, at your service,” the blond greeted, giving a slight bow.

  He se
emed a nice enough man, and the aura of love between them spoke well enough that Nereus would avoid being the protective brother he might have played with his other siblings. Pressing a hand to his chest, Nereus focused on Athanasius, “When you were cursed, I and all our siblings protested, Athanasius, which is how we convinced our dam to block our father from the underworld; however, a rather clever human emperor by the name of Lydos convinced him to request Father make it up to you by bestowing his title upon you.”

  It was a lie, of course, but Athanasius didn’t need to know that. There was no telling how long it would be before Athanasius would go to the Underworld, and Thanas would likely let the lie remain. Athanasius adored his mortal half-brother after all, and the once-warlord deserved to imagine everyone in the world who adored him would gather to his aid even if there had not been time and it had only been four of his half-siblings doing the shouting.

  “Lydos…” Athanasius’s voice trembled. “I don’t...I don’t understand.”

  Nereus chuckled. “Brother, you are now the god of spring. Well...gods, technically. The whole bride system is rather archaic, isn’t it? Better to say joint gods of spring.”

  Despite hearing the situation so plainly stated, Athanasius glanced at his mate in astonishment. Castor grinned, wrapping an arm around his pregnant husband.

  “I think you make a wonderful god of spring, my love,” Castor proclaimed, pressing a kiss to his mate’s cheek.

  Goodness, they were adorable. Nereus’s heart leapt in relief. Athanasius had the worst of it, and he deserved a mate who would spoil him.

  However, Athanasius’s dark brow furrowed, realizing the catch. “But then — ”

  “If our shared parent couldn’t retire, it makes sense for Father to do so. They can spend their eternities in the underworld together.” Nereus sauntered forward, grinning at the two before him. “Now, let me greet my nephew or niece. I cannot tell you how excited I am to finally have a sibling settled on the coast!” Athanasius smiled brightly, hugging his brother. The round mound of his belly put them at a distance, but Nereus only chuckled. “And I’m to be an uncle! I’ve never been close enough to dote on any of our nieces and nephews, so I’ll be spoiling yours every chance I get.”

  Athanasius flushed. “I-I have nieces and nephews?”

  Nereus’s nose wrinkled, and he smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Of course! Here I was expecting some of our sisters had managed to get a letter or two through! Luckily, none of our siblings are as enthusiastic about procreation as my parents, but we have a few. Ione will likely inundate you with pictures and stories of the lot. She’s pretty much the favorite aunt. As the oldest, she can travel out of her realm more frequently than the rest of us.”

  Athanasius frowned, glancing back at the cottage. “Spring doesn’t have any borders.”

  “No, it doesn’t, does it?” Nereus grinned. “Rather clever then to give it to you, isn’t it? You can be anywhere and everywhere. Children are always being born — even outside of spring, and really, you two are more the gods of new life than of just Spring, so you could go anywhere.”

  Castor gave a slightly tilted smirk as he pressed a kiss to Athanasius’s cheek. “I’ll show you everything. I’ve been across both continents, and now, you get to see the most beautiful places. Eat the best food.”

  “And you can still break curses,” Athanasius returned with a soft smile.

  A longing — foreign and unfamiliar — awoke in Nereus’s heart at the way the two melted into one another. Their love showed unconditional. Adoration spoke in every movement. They touched each other as if nothing was more sacred, and wanting curled like a cruel beast in Nereus’s chest.

  “Curse-breaking?” the sea god murmured.

  Castor grinned, almost glowing with his new godly powers. “Best in the business. Had to be if I ever wanted to find this gorgeous guy.”

  Pink colored Athanasius’s face. His once stoic demure seemed to vanish entirely in the face of such blatant affection, and Nereus couldn’t help but like Castor all the more for how happy he made his half-brother.

  Running a hand through his dark hair, Nereus hummed softly. “Well, you might just be the man for the job then.”

  “Job?” the two mates asked in unison.

  “There’s a selkie who was brought to my attention recently when I expanded my territory. She was held captive for some years, and when she got her pelt back, it turns out it was cursed by a skilled sorcerer. She can’t take it off.”

  “Trapped in one form and then the other,” his half-brother shook his head. “That’s terrible.”

  Nereus nodded, shuffling his feet in the grass before he grinned at his new brother-in-law. “So, if I bring her here, could you break it?”

  “Sounds like a few curses I’ve run into,” Castor replied. “I should be able to break it.”

  The three chatted, enjoying breakfast together before Nereus had to return to the sea. Athanasius walked into the water with his half-brother until it rose about his ankles, and turning to face him, Nereus held open his arms, leaping forward when the older god returned the gesture.

  “I’m so happy you’ve found your happily ever after,” Nereus whispered, hugging the taller man tightly. Pulling back, he smiled. “If you ever need anything, I’m right here.”

  Athanasius offered a small smile, settling a hand upon the curve of his unborn child. “I’m looking forward to traveling, but whenever we’re here, you’re always welcome.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Diving into the water, Nereus frowned. Returning to his territory, the water buzzed around him. Danger scratched at his senses. Something had gone wrong. He raced back, and the garden upon the castle stood in shambles. Preecha stood before a group of crying mermaids, and the pod of selkies staying in the air rooms were rushing away.

  “What happened?” the sea god demanded.

  Preecha turned, and bruises marred the delicate flesh of his face. “I’m sorry, my lord. I-I tried to stop him, but we weren’t strong enough.”

  Without needing confirmation, Nereus hissed, “Mar.”

  “He must have been waiting on the edge of your territory for you to visit your brother. The second you were gone, they came. They destroyed everything,” the cecaelia said, gesturing at the castle.

  Despite his words and the wreckage of the sculptures, the main structure stood. Nereus could repair it. “Is anyone dead? I can feel a number missing, but I don’t — I don’t sense they’ve moved on.”

  Preecha shook his head. “He took hostages. I have their names, my lord, but I-I should have done more. I should have been able to stop him.”

  Pulling the cecaelia into his warm embrace, Nereus hushed him gently. “None of this is your fault. You did the best you could.”

  “What will we do, Lord Nereus?” the remaining artists and scholars asked, gathering around them.

  “We go to war,” Nereus simply stated.

  Mar had to have known what he would start in his attack. The isolationism seemed to have been a guise. His army marched into an undefended territory while the god was away. A cowardly move. One that would end in the devastation of every single soldier who had dared to march into his realm. When Nereus dragged their corpses back, his waters would remember them, and he would burn them in the trenches, watching as the fires erased their existences.

  Chapter Eight

  “You can’t fight them all on your own,” Preecha argued as Nereus fixed the castle, cleaning up the mess left by Mar’s attack. “He’s luring you in! This has to be a trap.”

  “He has my people, Preecha. I can’t abandon them,” Nereus retorted. His nails dug into his palms, and fury rose in his chest at every crack. Every empty room stoked the flames of his rage. When his eyes returned to the cecaelia, they softened. “You should see to your injuries.”

  But the other man shook his head. “The healers have more pressing patients, and my place is at your side. If you march in Mar’s territo
ry, you will be at his mercy. He wants you to fight in his realm — the place where he’s the most powerful. You could beat him still, perhaps, if he fought you one-on-one, but he won’t. He’ll have his whole army with him.”

  “That bastard. He couldn't care for his artists, so they came to my realm, but he lost power, so he wants them back. You can’t gain power from stealing people. If they don’t enter your territory willingly, you have no sway on them,” Nereus grumbled. His fists tightened, and blood tainted the water.

  A black tentacle reached out. “Please, Nereus, don’t injure yourself.”

  With a sigh, Nereus slumped, letting his fingers uncurl from fists. “I should have killed him. I wanted to be merciful. To show I was better than him, so I let him live. For what? A better chance at a treaty with the other neighboring gods? Kaito gave him the same treaty he gives everyone, and Rhona doesn’t care about anything outside her island.”

  “If you killed him and took his territory, you’d have to concern yourself with the gods which border his territory, including several island gods who are constantly trying to explain,” Preecha reminded him. “You would have hated it.”

  Running a hand through his dark hair, Nereus sunk to the floor of the room he had been repairing, staring up at the cracks in the walls. “Then what do I do? You’re my advisor. Advise me.”

  The cecaelia tapped his stylus against the edge of his crystalline tablet. His black eyes traced over the edges of the damage as he paced back and forth, pursing his lips this way and that. After a moment, an unpleasant wince flashed across his face, and a frown quickly followed.

  “Well, that doesn’t look like a fun idea,” Nereus joked, and Preecha glanced at him. “Tell me anyway.”

  Preecha took a deep breath through his gills along his torso. “Pirates.”

  Dread pooled in Nereus’s stomach. Humans were fickle. They entered and left territories on whims. Even when they crossed over mountains or forests belonging to gods, they rarely paid respect, and even those who did rarely contributed any sort of power to the gods whose protection they required for whatever length of time they elected. Worse still, those who did try their hands at petitioning gods often did so by killing each other. Power came through the will and loyalty of those who entered realms, lending their own power to the god’s substantial magic. The dead might’ve bought blessing once, but besides Vasant, no one had taken the offered boost for longer than Nereus could recall.