Page 90 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

Three days.

Three full fucking days trapped on that little island, surrounded by nothing but a ramshackle town and drunk, horny pirates while they watched the skelebabies hammer away at the ship, getting it back in sailing order. He’d made countless trips into town for supplies and sometimes just out of boredom.

He’d thought he’d feel better when they got underway again—the bob of the deck under his feet and the sea breeze threading through his hair—but the restlessness that felt like a thousand ants crawling under his skin didn’t abate when the ship pulled away from the dock on the fourth morning and headed back out to open waters.

How long had his sister been waiting for him? Was she okay? Was she being abused? Fed? Did they understand a succubus needed more than sex to stay alive?

Or what if Aria didn’t even need him? What if this was what she wanted, and he was about to charge in like an overbearing, overprotective older brother no one wanted and ruin this new life she’d created? It was just as possible that the letter she’d sent to him had simply gone astray. She could fully believe he knew she’d changed her plans.

No. She needed him. Count Pierres had her in his clutches, and there was nothing good about that wretch of a man.

But the growing anxiety and the lingering doubts gnawed on his brain, killing precious cells until he was sure he was going mad. The only thing that seemed to give him a moment of relief was having sex with Fenric.

Of course, that meant he was cornering the man at every turn. He might not have realized how bad he’d gotten until the day after they’d left Pirate Isles, when Fenric grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall in the cabin they shared.

“Lir!” he snapped. His unexpectedly harsh tone sliced through the haze enveloping Lirion’s brain. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all our time together, but babe, we gotta slow down. If we go again, I swear my cock is going to fall off.”

Lirion jutted out his bottom lip and attempted to pout, but Fenric’s hard expression only turned to worry rather than horniness like it usually did.

“What’s going on with you?” Fen pressed.

“Nothing. Everything is fine, my sexy thief. Is it so unbelievable I just can’t get enough of you?”

“Yeah, it is. No offense, but you have thoroughly gorged yourself on this trip. If incubi could gain weight from sexual energy, you’d be fifty pounds heavier.”

Lirion placed his hand on the center of Fen’s chest and slowly ran it down to stop at his belt buckle. “Would you still want me if I was heavy with your sexiness?”

“Lir, please.” Fen’s voice softened to gentle pleading, worming its way through the last of Lirion’s defenses. “I’m worried about you. I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

How the hell was Lirion supposed to stay strong against this? It was evil. He might have given Maxie lessons on guarding against seduction, but this was a kind he had no way of protecting himself from—genuine concern.

Lirion stared at the darkly handsome man in front of him, finally seeing the full weight of worry in those eyes as they watched him. Since they’d stepped onto this ship, Fenric had always been right there, giving in to Lirion’s every whim, regularly checking on him to make sure he wasn’t only comfortable and well fed, but also distracted from the worries trying to eat him alive.

“You’re serious, aren’t you? This isn’t about sex. You…care…”

“Fuck yes, I care about you!” Fen shouted in his face. The rogue flinched and his cheeks flushed slightly. Yeah, not the kind of thing you should bellow in someone’s face. “Please, Lir. Help me out. This feelings shit isn’t really my forte. I just know something is bugging you, and I want to help.”

Lirion drew in a shaking breath and closed his eyes. He couldn’t meet Fenric’s piercing gaze while trying to gather his scattered thoughts and rampaging emotions. Everything felt too sharp and jagged. He had to pick up each piece with caution before putting them into words.

“I guess I’m anxious about getting to my sister.” He started slowly, but with each word he spoke, they sped up until he was nearly breathless and panting. “We stopped for repairs longer than we expected, and two months have passed since I last heard from her. Gods only know what has happened to her. What if…what if I’m too late and⁠—”

Fen’s fingers tightened on his shoulders, digging into muscles, snapping him out of his rising panic attack while also reassuring him. “No.” He said it with such firmness, it was like he was a king setting down a law for all the land and people to follow. “If she’s anything like her older brother, Aria is a survivor. With our shitty luck, she’ll have probably escaped before we even reach her and will be living fine and dandy on her own.”

As he spoke, it was like Fen plucked at all the strings that had bound up Lirion’s lungs, allowing him to draw in a deep breath at long last.

“Okay. I would hate myself if that was true. Putting everyone to such trouble. Putting your lives in danger. But…”

Fen smirked and finished his thought. “You’d still be relieved.”

“Yeah.”

“We wouldn’t hold it against you. Shit happens that you can’t plan for and you learn to roll with it. We’d probably raid the place just to make a little scratch on this trip and to stomp on some sex traffickers because that shit is beyond the pale.”

“But if she’s not free?”

Fen released his shoulders and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the door. “I’ve got an idea of how I can help with your worry.”

Without another word, he led Lirion out of their cabin and down the narrow corridor to the galley, where they found Hapi and Malfas seated at the long table, while Belstrom placed a teakettle on the stove.