Page 50 of Saved By the Selkie

We have no real way of washing or wiping down, so we both simply hike up our pants, a silent pact to grin and bear it.

We lie there for a minute, both of us looking up at the aurora dancing across the sky above us, our breath pluming into the air.

And I know the conversation we have to have is going to be even harder than it was before.

twenty-seven

Lir

A

ramis seems to have forgotten how dire heat is. The quickie on the ice really only served to whet my appetite—I think I’m hornier than I was before. At any rate, I can hardly keep my hands to myself, even across the short distance to the igloo.

I don’t really want to go back to the fire, where Anna’s family and Porthos are. I don’t want to spend the night in there. I’d rather freeze out here on the ice if it means I can get fucked again.

I’d been sort of planning to spend the night on the ice anyway; I figured I’d shift. I could jerk off in peace, at least.

Aramis took my hand and is leading me back. And I didn’t protest, probably because I’m so excited at the prospect of jumping his bones again.

He pauses before we reach the entryway. “Lir, seriously,” he says, and I squirm.

“Sorry. Can’t help it.” Nature’s a bitch. Even if I didn’t want this to happen, it was going to anyway.

Aramis regards me for a moment, then sighs. “We really need to talk.”

The last thing I want to do is talk.

He gazes out at the ice. His expression is pinched. “I don’t want to do anything we’ll regret,” he murmurs.

I bite back a laugh. Regret? Isn’t that what he was worried about last time? We fucked anyway, and I got pupped. Now we have Blizz and, despite all the shit that’s happened since, I don’t regret it. Not at all.

“Aramis,” I grumble.

His brows tent. “I’m going south, Lir. To meet the ship, and then I’m going back to New York.”

I stare at him, and it’s his turn to squirm. “I’m sorry, Lir,” he says, “but that’s just how it has to be, and I understand entirely if that means we’re done here. If you don’t want to go to New York or anywhere else or even if you never want to see me again, I—”

“Aramis,” I practically growl, pressing him up against the wall of the igloo. He squeaks in surprise, and I have to resist the urge to grind against him.

Startled brown eyes find mine. “It’s just—I kinda forced you the first time, and I don’t want that, Lir. I realize I was being a dick, and you need to be free to do whatever you want, which means—”

“I’m going with you.”

He freezes. For an unwinding eternity, there’s only the howling of the wind across the ice.

“You what?” he asks finally.

I cup his cheek. “I’m going with you, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Disbelief mars his expression. “Uh, because I’m an asshole who stole your pelt and forced you to sail south with me, got you pregnant, almost got you and our kid killed, and—”

“And I told you before, I went with you willingly. I wanted to leave.” I hesitate, then lean forward. “And you’re my mate. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Aramis, across the seven seas.” I think there are seven of them. Maybe.

He stares at me, and the longer he stares, the more water collects at the edges of his eyes. “You mean that?” he whispers, his voice hushed, awed.

I nod, suddenly unable to find my own voice. I break eye contact, looking down at my feet. “You’re my mate,” I mumble, embarrassed.

Aramis trembles under my touch. “Is this a dream?” His voice is so soft. His fingertips trailing across my cheek are even softer. “Are you even real?”