Page 15 of Saved By the Selkie

He doesn’t reply. I feel a bit guilty, but I can’t help touching him sometimes. He’s gorgeous—a strange, unnatural sort of beauty—and his skin is soft and warm. I tell myself I have to keep an eye on him and take care of him; it wouldn’t do for him to get sick before I can show him off to my patron, but the simple truth is I just like being close to him. I’m not sure why, but it’s comforting to me to have him near.

Maybe because he’s the only one on this damn ship I can trust. He is the only one who didn’t set me adrift in a lifeboat, leaving me for dead. And even though he could have killed me, he chose to save my life instead.

I feel guilty about that too. Here’s a guy who did me a good turn, and how do I repay him? By kidnapping him. I’ve got his pelt locked in a trunk in my quarters. He keeps asking for it; I told him I can’t give it to him because I don’t trust the crew. And I don’t, but I also don’t trust that Lir isn’t just going to swim away and I’ll never see him again.

The very thought makes me feel like I’ll go mad. I wonder, not for the first time, if he’s put some kind of spell on me.

It sure seems like it as we stand there in the moonlight. He lifts his head, twisting to look me in the eyes, and I let my gaze fall, raking in the moonlight on the curve of his cheek,how it highlights his parted lips.

“Lir, I—”

The ship lurches under us, and we stumble into each other, then back against the railing. I brace my hands against the wood; Lir bends almost backwards over the rail, his hands landing at my waist. I catch his gaze again, the way the stars overhead reflect in his eyes, and there’s some sort of silent permission in them, a grant I didn’t know I was waiting for.

I dip my head and press our mouths together, closing my eyes as our lips brush.

I pull back almost immediately, looking into his eyes again. My heart is in my throat. I must’ve had more to drink than I thought, because the way he’s looking at me, I …

“Do that again.” I think it’s meant as a question, but the low roll of his voice, the way his lids have fallen to half-mast, makes it more of a demand.

“Lir, I can’t, we shouldn’t, I—”

“Please?” His hands are firm on my arms, holding me fast. “I liked it. What do you call it?”

“Kissing,” I reply. I shake my head and try to pull away again. “But Lir, we can’t—”

“I liked kissing,” Lir says, like he’s testing the words out. He glances down, then lifts his gaze again. “Can we do more than kissing?”

I feel like someone’s fired a cannon right into my chest; I can’t breathe at all, not with the way Lir is looking at me, the moonlight making him more ethereal than he has any right to be.

Lir tilts his head, the sultriness replaced by worry. “Aramis? Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” I shake my head. “No, it’s just … Lir, we’re both drunk, and”—he’s never had alcohol before, doesn’t even know what being drunk is—“and we … shouldn’t do that right now.”

“Why not?” he asks, ducking around me when I try to turn and leave.

“Because we might regret it.” I’ve done plenty of one-night stands, and I don’t think I can hang out on this boat with Lir for months on end if we bang and it goes poorly.

Lir shakes his head. “I don’t understand,” he says. “How could we regret it?”

“Because we’re drunk. Neither of us is thinking straight, so we really shouldn’t be making these sorts of decisions—”

Lir’s brow knits together. “What’s to decide?”

I stare at him. He stares back. I wave my hand. “Everything, Lir, just—”

“But we’re mates,” Lir says, and I try to blame the ship lurching for the way I reel back from him. He grips my forearm, his short claws digging in. “And I’m in heat.”

ten

Lir

I

can’t understand why Aramis is refusing me right now. I mean, I do feel a bit strange, but I can’t tell if that’s the alcohol or because I’m in heat. Aramis said I was drunk, but I’ve never been drunk and I’ve never been in heat, so I’m not exactly the expert on either situation here.

I do remember the feel of my “warmups,” as Vati called them, the last couple of seasons. The pressure between my legs, the nervous feeling under my skin, the desire to rub myself on something—mostly Aramis right this second.

I also feel warm all over, even with the stiff breeze blowing in off the icy ocean waters, so I’m pretty sure this is heat.