Page 19 of Pregnant With Their Babes

Oz snickered, and that drew out a warm chuckle from Dagr. The man was much more somber than when they were young. Oz was fairly sure he hadn’t heard the sound since he’d been summoned home, at the very least. He missed Dagr’s laughter.

Dearly.

He turned his attention to the man who held his heart, catching the fading remnants of that smile. He saw a hint of the younger version of Dagr, full of hope, a whole future laid out before them. Suddenly, they were insulated, the only two there in that moment. The outside world ceased to exist.

“I’m going to miss this. Moments when we’re surrounded by chaos and still it’s only you and me. The whole world fades away, and all I can see is you.”

Dagr tilted his head and captured Oz’s gaze.

Twenty plus years and the man could still take his breath away. Soon, he’d lose that, and the fact only brought a mixture of rage, sorrow, and regret to bear. “I wish it could be you and me forever.”

A hint of a shine came to Dagr’s eyes. “Me, too.”

Oz sighed and stared away. The pain in Dagr’s eyes… or maybe it was more their squandered chances…

He simply couldn’t bear to look at it.

“I desire to take you upstairs… hold you in my arms… andneverlet go.”

Oz grinned. “If only.” He cast a glance Dagr’s way before glancing back to the crowd. “We have an interloper in our bed that we’re not allowed to touch. Remember?”

“I’m well aware.”

“I was angry at you for trying to send him away,” Oz admitted. “And in the same moment was glad you had the strength to do it. I doubt that I could’ve. Even now I want to race up those stairs and drag him close.”

“You’re infinitely stronger than I.”

Oz sneered. “So you think.”

“So I know,” Dagr murmured. “One day you’ll know it, too.”

Oz focused on Dagr—who turned slightly to meet that stare.

“Ya wished ta speak ta me, gents?”

* * *

Dagr was loath to tear his gaze from Oz, but he did. A broad man carrying a lantern and long, iron hammer stood before them. From sheer size and power, he’d guess it was the town’s blacksmith—but from the other accoutrements, he had another guess. “You’re the constable, I gather?”

“I am. And tha smithy. If ye or yer ship have needs o’one.”

Dagr smiled inwardly to have his guess confirmed.

“I wouldn’t want to be a criminal and cross your path. Will you have a pint with us?” Oz asked, waving Myra over.

“If yer buyin’, I will.” The constable lowered his lantern and hammer to the table with a clatter and a groan from the wood. “And trust me—me size only attracts those who see me as a challenge. Tha bigger they are, tha harder they fall, they say. Thankfully fer me, no one’s been able ta fell me since I were a lad.”

“I bet,” Dagr replied, eyeing the mountain of a man.

After a quick round of introductions, Myra soon brought the constable an ale, refilled Oz’s empty cup, and they got down to business.

“We just arrived at port earlier this evening—after finding a drowning man near the coast not far from here,” Dagr explained.

“A drowning man? What’s his name?”

“Llyr,” Dagr answered.

“Family name?” the constable asked.

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