Page 24 of Saved By the Selkie

I squeeze his shoulder again. “Nothing,” I say, marching by him. “Stay here. I’ll deal with it.”

I ball my hands into fists as I march out of the cabin onto the deck. “Oy!” I yell at Smitty.

He turns and waves languidly at me. “Someone threw a cabbage, cap’n,” he calls. “Nothing to worry about, methinks.”

“And the shot?” I ask.

“Oh,” he says, waving a hand, “not our boys—seems a coupla of boys from another ship have some bad blood with the locals.” He gives me a gap-toothed grin. “Should be fun t’ watch—I think they’re gonna have a duel.”

I heave a huge sigh. “All right,” I say, “but make sure no more produce makes its way on-deck, ah?”

“Aye-aye, cap’n,” he says, giving me a sloppy salute. I wonder if he’s been into the drink.

My chest is still tight with tension, but I turn back into the cabin anyway, intent on finishing my conversation with Lir.

But he’s gone.

fourteen

Lir

I

feel awful about stealing from Aramis, but if I think about it, stealing back something that belongs to me isn’t really stealing. After all, it’s my pelt.

When he went outside to check on the commotion, he left me standing in his cabin. And I saw my pelt there, peeking out of a trunk tucked away behind a curtain in the corner, near his desk.

First, I was angry that I hadn’t noticed it before. Then I was angry that he wouldn’t just give it to me. And finally, I took it and fled his quarters, clutching my pelt to me, inhaling the comforting scent of it.

Now I’m hiding in the armory, wondering what my next move is. I don’t really have anywhere to hide the pelt in my own quarters—under the bed and that’s about it. Of course, Aramis will find it if he comes looking for it. Or me. I need to stow it somewhere else.

I don’t intend to leave or get lost or get eaten by a shark or whatever he thinks will happen to me if I put the pelt on and slip into the water. The simple fact of the matter, though, is that I need to go out there and hunt.

Aramis can assure me that the supplies he’s ordered up are enough, but I’m not sure he knows how much of a dead giveaway his expressions are. He lied to me; I could see it in his eyes when he said there was enough. There was this pained, pinched sort of look in his eyes that said he knew what he’d managed to procure wasn’t really enough. If the trip takes longer than anticipated or the ship gets stuck somewhere, the crew is screwed.

I sigh heavily and nuzzle into my pelt, relishing the softness of it against my cheek. I close my eyes and think of home. I could be out hunting right now, maybe with my brothers, maybe with Vati.

Vati would tell me what to do about the pup growing in my belly. I squeeze my eyes shut and slide a hand over the swell, heaving a shuddery breath as I do so.

I’m not sure which comment it was during the brawl that made me realize, but it feels so obvious to me now. I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life because I’m feeding a growing pup. No wonder I’ve been eating more than “my fair share” and still feeling hunger pangs, and the crew’s not wrong that I’m plumper than I was when I first boarded the ship.

I’m glad, for a moment, that Vati taught us the basics of selkie reproduction. Once the pup is born, I’ll do nothing but nurse for about three weeks. No swimming, no hunting, no eating. It sounds ridiculous—especially with how hungry I am right now—but Vati assured me that I’ll feel no hunger at all once the pup arrives, just a powerful desire to be with the pup and nuzzle him and cuddle him and feed him. Keep them warm and fed, that’s how Vati put it.

But to do that, selkie omegas have to store energy so we have enough not just for ourselves through the fast but to share with the pup as well. If I don’t store enough energy now, the pup might starve. Heck, I could starve. Both of us might.

Which means I need to build up my reserves now, before the pup arrives and I can’t leave the ice to hunt.

I close my eyes again, sighing. It’s true that when I ran away from Vati, I didn’t want any pups, but now that I found Aramis and we mated and it’s his pup in my belly …

It feels different somehow. Maybe it’s just because this is reality, and the pup didn’t ask to be made, didn’t ask to be here, but I feel … soft toward him. I want to do my best to take care of my pup.

I was going to tell Aramis, but the words got stuck in my throat. Then there was the thump of the cabbage being thrown on the deck and the gunshot, and then I saw my pelt and I took it and fled.

I figure I can just put my pelt on and go hunting, and Aramis doesn’t need to be any the wiser. I’ll be fed, our pup will be fed, and the crew’s supplies will last longer. I won’t get lost. It won’t hurt anyone.

You know that won’t work, Lir.I can almost hear Vati berating me. There’s still the actual birth of the pup to think about. Normally, selkies give birth on the ice at the North Beach haul-out. I’m a long way away from those ice floes. I’m not sure if there will be ice further south. What if we’re at sea? Pups can’t swim at birth, so I’ll have to give birth on the ship or something.

And Aramis—and the entire crew—will know then.