Page 69 of Pregnant With Their Babes

“Fine,” Oz muttered, knowing in his heart of hearts he could never give himself to anyone but the two men he loved. He glanced at Dagr, seeing his own pain reflected back at him.

Suddenly, the captain of the guard rushed onto the balcony with a few of his men, pointing swords at Oz and Dagr.

“Stand down,” the king roared, eyeing Oz. “The Crown Prince and the Commander have finally returned home—and saved us from our enemy.”

The soldiers lowered their swords before punching them high in the air—cheering.

After surveying the damage King Augustine and his Draugar had left in their wake, Oz turned an eye toward a silent Dagr.

“We’ll find… something,” Dagr whispered.

“I hope you’re right,” Oz murmured back before staring out at the sea.

And feeling its siren song all the way down to his soul.

At least now he understood why.

“I’m half merman,” Oz murmured to Dagr before giving the man a smile. “Guess there’s no denying it now.”

“Oh no,” Dagr said staring down at his hands. He reached out, as if he was attempting another spell, but nothing happened. “Did you see what I did? It was insane.”

Oz took Dagr by the shoulders. His hands slid up to the man’s cheeks. “We’re both stronger than we realize. We will get him back.”

Dagr nodded, certainty in his stare.“We will.”

12

Afew days later, as Oz set the witches and historians to search for an answer to their dilemma, Dagr took some time to visit his grandparents property,Clyffsyde. He took his time, decades of being asea making him a stranger in his own land. The horse he rode took time to grow accustomed to. He’d once been a skilled rider, but skills were lost with ease when not utilized. So he took the journey slow, observing every tree, every rock, every building… looking to see what was different and what had remained the same. Most was as he remembered it, but there were some new additions.

New tenants farming the lands to the west of the manor. The silver mine had been expanded and seemed to employ more men and women than he recalled. Much more livestock filled the pens. Rams and ewes grazed the field to the north, munching on the verdant grasses.

But the sea still thrashed against the cliffs and beaches below. The air still smelled crisp and clean. The narrow roads were still muddy and uneven. And the large, foreboding manor at the end of the long lane still caused his stomach to clench.

Before he could dismount, the doors were flung open and an older woman came hobbling out. Disdain crossed her aging face as he waited for his feet to touch the cobbled stones of the drive. “I heard you and the Prince had arrived days ago. It took you long enough to make your way here.”

It took Dagr a moment to recognize his own grandmother. She’d grown white-haired and seemed much frailer than he remembered her. “Well, I’m here now.”

“That you are. The prodigal son returns.”

Dagr clenched his jaw. There was so much he wished to say, but there was no point in starting an argument. “Trust me, I won’t be long. I wanted to check in on you and grandfather, to pay my respects.”

“Respects? Ha!” she spat before stalking back to the door. “Respects, he says.”

Dagr frowned. He was used to her icy composure. Perhaps old age had changed her.

A groom appeared and took the reins to his horse. Dagr was almost leery of handing the mount over. It was his escape.

“Well, are you coming or not?” his grandmother snapped from the door.

He paused a moment longer, struggling to decide. Finally, he removed his hat and gloves, walking toward the entrance of the home that had never truly been his home.

No, that had been Oz.

His Polaris Star.

Dagr handed his hat and gloves to the maid once inside the foyer before following his grandmother into the parlor. A small fire smoldered in the hearth, taking away the day’s chill.

“Evelyn… bring tea,” his grandmother instructed before taking a seat in what he could only call a throne. She looked up at him expectantly. “Have a seat.”

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