Page 6 of Pregnant With Their Babes

“I’ve beennotreminding you for nearly three fortnights now. You can’t keep pushing him off.”

“I know!” he spat a little louder and more forcefully than he’d planned. The singing and music stopped. The silence, deafening. He felt stares on him and refused to allow them to intrude on their moment. Oz gazed over one shoulder at his men. “Sorry… proceed.Please.” He waved his hand. “But stop with all that sentimental nonsense. Play something a little more…lighthearted.”

The men did as instructed and played a song only marginally more cheerful than the last. One would imagine they would be more excited to be nearing home, but it was as if they all sensed their journeys were now over. A truer end in sight. He shook his head with a sigh and turned back to Dagr. “I’m sorry. I’m not cross with you.”

Dagr gave a slight nod as his acceptance.

“I’m out of sorts, knowing this is soon to go away. And I’m angry.” His grip tightened on the railing, his knuckles going white. “Angry I can’t simply run away from it all.”

“Well, you could.” Dagr searched out before him a moment before tilting his head to face Oz. “But is that the man you desire to be?”

Oz clenched his jaw, craving to say the wordyes. “No.”

Silence hung between them, albeit for the waves lapping against the side of the ship and the last notes of the song being sung. There was also a lost destiny fading between them. No words were needed for him to know Dagr felt it as keenly as he did.

“I understand your frustration,” Dagr finally murmured. “How do you thinkIfeel?”

Oz frowned, holding Dagr’s gaze. What did he say to make things better? There was nothing. Absolutely nothing he could utter which would cause either of them to become happy. Both their lives would change and not in the ways either wished. “We’ve one more port between here and home—and should be there in less than an hour. One more night to celebrate our freedom.” He broke the stare holding them together and glanced at the surface of the water, seeing none of the beauty. Not in his current state. It was impossible. “And then we aim toward home. Happy?”

After glancing around, Dagr reached out and caressed Oz’s shoulder. Oz struggled to face Dagr in that moment, his heart rending in two.

“Happy? How could you think it would make me happy?” Dagr asked lowly. “In time, we will find a way through. One day, we might be happy again.”

“No,” Oz said, shaking his head. His voice broke slightly as he spoke again. “I doubt I willeverbe truly happy.”

All he craved was to fall into Dagr’s arms and forget about the world and its troubles. Forget about duty and responsibilities. Forget everyone else but this wonderful man who was a part of his own flesh. They were a bonded pair, soon to be ripped apart. How would he function without the better half of him at his side? Tears burned the backs of his eyes, the frustration oppressive. Unwilling to bear it, yet Oz had little choice.

He observed the setting of the sun, another day gone… another day closer to a destiny he was loath to journey.Please… if there are truly gods above… help us. Help us find a way to remain together. Help me hold on to this man I love.

Dagr’s palm spread on his back and lulled him into a false sense of comfort. He closed his eyes and let the contentment seep into every muscle… into the very fiber of his being. Oz aspired to remember that feeling for the rest of his life… of being loved… because he’d have to hold on to those memories on the cold nights ahead.

Forcing those thoughts from his mind, he offered his friend as much of a smile as he could muster. “We have a few more days. Let’s make the most of them, eh?”

“Indeed,” Dagr murmured. “We can have a pint or two in the inn… maybe get a room there for the night. Their beds were always soft and clean. And the owners turn a blind eye.”

“So you want to have your wicked way with me, eh?”

“The trying is the best part,” Dagr added with a wicked grin.

Oz returned the smile before he stared back out at the sea, still searching for the peace he’d never find. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Dagr, they’d face the coming storms until life finally ripped them in separate directions.

For nearly twenty years they’d been side by side…

Something caught his attention. Tilting his head, he attempted to get a better look. “What’s that in the water?”

Oz glanced at Dagr before following the path of the man’s gaze. A spot of white rode the surface. When a gust of wind lifted a few long copper tresses to curl on the air, he realized it was a body floating in the water.

“Man overboard!” came a cry from one of their sailors high up the rigging.

A wave of misery washed over Oz with the next breeze. His gut clenched.

“Dear gods,” Oz whispered before instinct took over. Even though he realized there was no way the person could still be alive, he rushed to drag his jacket down his arms and kick off his shoes. Beside him, Dagr did the same, finishing first. Dagr dove in seconds before Oz.

The cold northern waters were a shock to his system as he plunged beneath the waves behind his friend. Rising to the surface, he checked where he had emerged seconds before swimming toward where Dagr already headed. He reached the man as Dagr rolled him over. Together, they dragged the body back to the ship—where his men awaited them at the side the help them back up onto the deck.

A small circle of sailors surrounded them as Oz reached for the man’s pale neck, searching for a pulse he knew he would not find. He hated being correct. Still, he and Dagr pushed on the man’s chest, working to get the water from his lungs. After a few minutes, it was clear there would be no reviving him.

“How the hell did he get all the way out here?” Dagr asked as they hovered over, water dripping off them onto his pale, naked flesh.

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