Page 70 of The Noble's Merman

His mind swirled and wrapped around that word. Noon had said it before in her knowledge of the shift to become human, but Mo had simply glanced over it. It meshed with everything else she’d said and became just as similar of a word as the others: completely, wholly. He was sure of that with Kent and their feelings. How deep their connection went, stirring up something inside his chest that he could feel pulse, like another source of magic. Completely, wholly, in love.

But truthfully?

He raised his hand to pet Noon’s side, and she noticed, slowing her swimming pace.

“I haven’t been truthful to Kent.”

Noon let out what he could only describe as a worrisome groan. “You have not?”

“No. I’ve realized… I lied to him. He does not know I’m a siren. Instead, I told him I’m just a normal merman.”

“That is troublesome.” She puffed out a breath from her wide mouth, blowing bubbles in front of her. “Do you plan to correct this and tell him the truth? Because, otherwise, you may never get your wish fulfilled. You will never gain legs.”

Not only that, as Noon didn’t say it but Mo could tell she might be thinking it—Kent would continue to love a false version of Mo.

Kent didn’t know—he had no clue of Mo’s instinctual, primal desires.

If Kent truly was the one meant for him, as he felt with their connection clutching deep tentacles around his heart, he knew he had to come forth and let the truth free eventually.

“I will let him know,” he finally said. “I don’t know how or when, but… I do need to let him know.”

But would he forgive me for lying?

Noon hummed in agreement, and they kept swimming along, never losing sight of the pirate ship.

Kent was dragged in front of the pirate crew on their main deck, wrist held in a firm, unshakable grip by the fierce Captain Young. Their captain went over the details with the men who may not have heard, signaling their change in direction toward England, and reiterated the fact that Kent was to remain unharmed—and unmolested. Kent’s stomach twisted as some of the men scowled at that, licking their lips as if Kent were simply a whore they wished to ravage. Oh Lord, please spare me. But the money promised by Kent was enough to hold them back, and Young dragged him down belowdecks, followed by Allen slung by a couple other pirates.

“You two are to be watched over by Seth,” Young said as they made their way through the wooden forecastle. “Seth only prefers women so he should not worry your sweet arse, and—oh! He’s also a mer-fucker, just like you. Imagine that. You should be in great company.”

Once they reached the small room at the far front of the ship, the pirate Young had mentioned rushed in behind them, shoving past his captain and into the room.

Seth was a young man, appearing the same age as Kent himself. He was quite thin, long limbs and standing tall. Pale skin flushed red by exertion, and he had long, wavy black hair covering the shoulders of his teal frock coat. He panted, breath after breath, resting his hands on his knees. “Apologies, Captain! I merely wished to finish my meal. I had no time to eat with all the commotion going on, as you know.”

Young rolled his eyes, then shoved Kent further into the room—bumping into Seth and having to catch his balance on the pirate’s shoulders. “You could have waited,” Young said without any real malice. “You’ve already been informed of your new station. Watch over these two. Don’t let them above deck for whatever reason.”

Kent righted himself, patting down the front of his frock coat. “Whatever reason?”

“You’re a hostage. A prisoner. You don’t get special privileges. You’ll be set free if your father pays the ransom. If not, remember, you promised we could have our way with you.” He gave an eerie, lecherous grin.

“Well, yes, but?—”

“Enough!” Young coughed. “Mend your companion here.” He motioned to the other pirates who were on standby and they walked Allen into the room, setting him down upright onto the wooden floor against the wall. “The quicker his recovery, the quicker he can join us. What materials do you need?”

Kent knelt next to Allen, taking in the scope of the injury. What he needed to do was pull the wood from his arm straight away; he was afraid it was already left open like this for too long. But Allen stayed alert and in good spirits, despite his groans and wobbled movements, and Kent gently asked for the things he needed to repair his comrade’s wound. Young left with the other two pirates, shutting the door behind them, leaving Kent and Allen alone with Seth, who lit a candle on the sole dresser. There was one small porthole window in the room, yet it was clouded with grime, not letting in much sunlight. There were also only two hammocks; was one of them to sleep on the floor?

Soon enough, another pirate named Grant who claimed he was the surgeon of their own ship entered, and knelt down next to Kent, giving him the items he requested. Kent assisted Allen with removing his blood-stained shirt, careful around his bicep to not anger the wound further. With his own hand wrapped in a clean cloth, Kent tugged at the bloody piece of wood, pulling and prodding ever so gently, before it loosened and dislodged from Allen’s arm. The redhead moaned in pain and Kent winced at the excruciating sound, setting the offending wood down. After he unwrapped his hand, Grant handed Kent a bottle of rum, and Kent offered it to Allen.

“Drink.”

Allen obliged, taking in the substance eagerly as Kent held up the mouth of the bottle to his lips.

“Oi, could I get some of that as well?” Seth piped in from behind.

Kent’s face twisted in confusion, setting the bottle down onto the floor. “I suppose you could…?” What kind of question is that? “Please give it back when you’re done, though, I’m not done with it.”

Seth swiped the bottle as Kent moved onward to treating Allen, taking tweezers and pulling out, meticulously, each small sliver of wood that was still embedded in the wound. He used the clean cloth to soak up any remaining blood, hushing Allen’s groans and telling him reassurances softly that he was doing great. Hopefully, this would be the only injury he needed to tend to on the remainder of their journey, and also hopefully, he was quick enough to ensure him a full recovery.

“I’m going to need a lot of this stuff if I’m to stay down here watching you two,” said Seth, setting the bottle back down. “Young better let me above deck every now and then. I assume he will, right? I need the fresh air!”

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