Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

MARCH 10TH, 1667

T he blue waves beat against the side of the Siren Song in a lulling rhythm. Rowan let his mind wander as he gazed at them. He'd already been sitting there for an hour, his chin pillowed on his folded arms on the rail of the quarterdeck. He was fairly sure the back of his neck was red with sunburn, but everyone knew to leave him alone when he was like this. The few times Fox or Logan or one of the others had interrupted his "brooding," as Logan called it, he'd almost snapped their heads off.

It had been a month since they escaped from Wave Harbor. A month of not knowing whether Yves was alive or dead. A month of being haunted by the lack of recognition in Yves's eyes.

They'd laid low in the small fringe islands of Yarene for a while, avoiding any chance of Marran or Talvan ships spotting them. When supplies ran low, they ransomed the captured Talvan sailors back to their government.

Whenever they returned to port, Rowan asked after Yves and the Kraken , but all he succeeded in learning was that the Kraken hadn't been seen since that night.

Even as the weather warmed day by day, Rowan sank deeper into despair. After the hostage exchange, he ordered them to sail west. To himself and anyone who questioned it, he denied that they were on course for Illusion. But deep down, he knew that he had to find out what happened to Yves one way or another.

A flash of colorful light deep under the waves caught his eye. He squinted, trying to get a better look, but it was gone. He rubbed the scars next to his missing eye. Ever since losing it, he'd been seeing things. Shadows out of place, flicks of color in the corner of his vision. It was even worse when he wasn't wearing the eyepatch. He was unsettled by it, worried that maybe he was going mad despite Robin's gentle reassurances.

A shadow darkened the waves, but it was not some hallucination this time. Rowan turned to see Ga?l standing at the rail by his side. They'd become friends over the winter, and now Ga?l was almost as close to him as Fox or Henri was. He was an easy man to like, and Rowan could see why Fox was so smitten with him.

"Sorry to interrupt Captain, but the Monsoon is hailing us."

Rowan sat up straighter and looked behind him. Indeed, there was the Monsoon sitting upon the glittering water as if nothing terrible had ever happened to it. Its yellow sails were in the process of being furled, and the pierced heart flag snapped in the balmy spring breeze.

Splinter Zanta walked across the gangway with the self-assurance of a woman who had recently escaped death. Rowan felt a sense of camaraderie with her now. Maybe because he still felt a little bad about rejecting her; maybe because they'd faced certain death and both came out unscathed. Whatever the reason, it seemed she felt the same way.

"Lo! I'm glad you survived, Hawk!" she shouted jovially as her boots hit the deck. She strode up and clasped Rowan on the shoulder. "I was worried when we left you behind. But it seems like you made it unscathed."

Despite his melancholy mood, Rowan smiled, the bottom edge of his eyepatch digging into his cheek.

"Can't say I'd do it again. But I'm glad you made it out too. Have you had any news of the others? Is Wave Harbor officially a no-go now?"

Zanta's lips pursed. "You haven't had news?"

"We've been avoiding the main ports."

"Then you don't know." Zanta looked simultaneously sickened and giddy at whatever news she was about to impart. The members of Rowan's crew who weren't busy with various tasks had gathered around at his back, eager to end their self-imposed isolation from the outside world. Rowan felt Logan's presence close by and saw John watching from the upper deck out of the corner of his vision.

"Heard what?" Rowan asked.

"The Deep Water Demon is dead."

Those simple words, said so matter of factly that at first Rowan thought he had misheard her. That his fears and anxieties were playing tricks on him, just like his eye was. Henri gripped his arm, steadying him. It was as if he'd suddenly plunged straight through the deck beneath his feet into the depths of the ocean. He sank down and down, the sounds around him muffled, the darkness pressing in. Distantly, he heard Ga?l's voice.

"How?"

But he couldn't hear Zanta's response. Couldn't breathe. The water pressed in on his chest with all its massive weight, forcing the breath from his lungs. Yves was dead. Rowan would never see him again. Never touch or kiss him again. And suddenly, living was too much to bear. He wanted to succumb to the water that fought to claim him. He took a big gulp.

Air. Of course it was air. He wasn't sinking to the bottom of the sea but standing on the deck of the Siren Song . He blinked, resurfacing to reality. Henri's grip was hard on his arm, keeping him upright. And Zanta was staring at him with a look of confusion and concern.

"Ghost Hawk?" Her voice was tentative.

"How?" Rowan managed to bite out. "How did he die?" Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw John sit down hard on the top step of the quarterdeck, head in his hands.

"I talked to one of the crews that escaped the harbor after we left. They said they saw it with their own eyes. That big Talvan warship was sinking; the collapsed mast got caught on the Kraken and dragged it down with it. Even if the Demon did survive the fire and the battle, no one could have survived that cold water for long."

For the past month, Rowan had tried so hard to convince himself that Yves was alive. He'd told himself that Yves had avoided the flames and made it back to the Kraken , that the reason no one had seen the famous ship was that they were laying low on Illusion. But now there were witnesses. Now he knew the Kraken was gone, and if Yves had survived the battle, he'd gone down with his ship.

Rowan sucked in a shuddering breath. His heart clenched painfully, and he raised a shaking hand to clutch at his shirt. Fuck. Why did it hurt so bad? Why did it feel like everything was over? Why…

Why would Yves be taken away from him before he could tell him he loved him?

Rowan had spent so long denying it to himself. So long pretending the only thing between them was lust. But if that was true, why did Rowan feel like he was drowning? It was only now that Yves was gone that he could admit he loved him, but it was too late.

"Rowan… Rowan…"

Rowan realized he'd fallen to his knees on the deck, one hand pressed hard to the sun-warmed wood, and the other clawed at his chest as if he would rip his own heart out to stop this pain. Fox knelt beside him, one arm around his back.

"He could have survived," Fox whispered. "He could have. We should go back…" Fox looked up at Zanta who was staring down at them, horrified and confused. "They didn't see the Demon himself die?" Fox demanded. "They just saw the Kraken . He could have lived right?"

Zanta took a step backwards toward the gangplank. "I… They didn't see the Demon himself but…"

"See?" Fox turned back to Rowan, his hand massaging soothing circles between his shoulder blades. "We should go back."

The smallest hope sparked in his despair. Fox had always been good at shining a light in the darkness. Rowan squeezed his eyes shut. They were pirates, and their time on this earth was finite. What Yves had done didn't matter now; Rowan couldn't afford to hold his grudge any longer. Not against the one man he'd ever loved. If Yves was alive, Rowan needed to take whatever time they had left together and hold it close. He wouldn't waste any more of it.

His eyes snapped open, and he realized that Zanta had retreated back to the Monsoon . He got to his feet with Fox and Henri's help and turned to face his gathered crew.

"Set sail for Illusion."

April 1st, 1667

Darkness wrapped its comforting arms around the Siren Song as it finally reached Illusion. Rowan hadn't expected to see any lights from the island, secret as it was, yet the lack of visible habitation spiked his worry even more.

"We'll have to wait till it's light out. I've never navigated these rocks in the dark," John said from beside him. After the initial shock, he hadn't seemed to outwardly grieve Yves's supposed death. Maybe he stood to inherit the pirating empire; maybe he just didn't care.

Waiting was something that Rowan was very bad at. But it seemed he had no choice in the matter. They anchored the Siren on the eastern side of the island and waited.

Rowan knew he should try to sleep, but the dark hours passed endlessly and sleeplessly. Rowan paced the deck, stopping every few steps to glance at the island. With every moment, he believed more and more that the rumors were true. Yves was dead. Rowan had missed his chance for reconciliation and the finite time they had together was at an end.

Rowan still hadn't slept by the time the sun peeked over the horizon, casting his shadow out long before him in red and gold. That was a bad omen if there ever was one. A red sky on the morning of the fool's day. And what a fool he was, to have wasted what little time he and Yves could have spent together. The crew woke around him, giving him a wide berth as they went about their duties. John appeared at his side again, calm and implacable as always.

"No one's come out?"

"No," Rowan answered. He was sure he looked a fright, the gray bags of sleepless worry hanging beneath his eyes. He'd hoped to see a boat rowing out in the morning light. To know that Yves was here. Safe. That he was coming for Rowan just as he'd promised.

"Best get to it then." John strode toward the quarterdeck where Logan stood at the ship's wheel. A look passed between them as Logan handed the wheel over to John's command then began issuing orders to the crew in the rigging. "If we don't catch this tide right we'll have to wait till evening to get in."

Rowan watched with apprehension as John deftly steered the Siren between the rocks toward the harbor's hidden entrance. He held his breath as they passed through, the cliffs drawing back to reveal the Kraken's Fury sitting at anchor in the calm water. Rowan sighed, but his relief was short lived. The Kraken was in bad shape. It rode low in the water, two of its masts were charred down to half their height, and the whole ship looked as if it had been chewed up and spit back out by a real kraken. But it was here. That meant Yves had to be okay too. Didn't it?

They anchored beside the Kraken in silence, and Rowan brought nothing with him as he boarded the landing boat. His nerves sang with dread with every stroke of the oars that brought them closer to the shore and the truth. There was no movement on the shore, not even fishermen preparing their nets. When the boat bumped against the docks, Rowan leapt out before the crew even had a chance to tie up. And he was gone, sprinting up to the manor house at the top of the lane like the devil himself was on his heels, barely noticing the black ribbons that adorned the porches and doors of the cottages, lank in the still morning air. It wasn't until he reached the main house, his hand closing around a ribbon's silky length where it was wound around the door handle that Rowan's mind even registered them.

Mourning ribbons, meant to guide the spirits of the dead and lost home.

And here one was on the door of Yves's house.

Rowan raked in a shuddering breath, then yanked open the door and sprinted up the grand curving staircase to Yves's bedroom on the second level. At this hour he might still be asleep, but Rowan didn't care. He didn't bother knocking, just wrenched the door open and…

The room was empty, the crisp white linens on the bed perfectly arranged as if no one had slept there in months.

Tears prickled at the back of Rowan's eye, and he pushed down the urge to scream. Yves could be elsewhere on the island. Just because he wasn't in his room didn't mean he was gone for good. He could be visiting Ana. He…

Rowan dashed the back of his hand across his eye, but no tears had fallen yet. He retreated from Yves's room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the hallway for a moment, catching his breath, trying not to let dread overwhelm him. Yves couldn't be dead. Rowan would have known .

Rowan barely registered the click of the door next to Yves's room opening. But his gaze turned to it anyway, some instinct drawing him toward the sound .

Yves stopped short when he saw Rowan. He stared as if what he was seeing before him was an apparition. Something dearly wished for but not real. Rowan stared back. Yves was here. Alive. He had spent months anticipating, dreading, questioning this moment. Now that it was here, he was paralyzed with fear. Did Yves recognize him? Did Yves even still want him?

Yves was the first to move. He ran forward and yanked Rowan into a crushing embrace. Rowan wrapped his arms around Yves's thin waist, their bodies pressed so tight together he could barely breathe. Just a month ago, the bloody tip of Yves's saber had been pressed to Rowan's heart, no recognition in his eyes. But that didn't matter now. The feel of Yves's body against his, the sound of his heartbeat was so familiar yet so foreign to Rowan's senses, like finally coming home after a long time away.

He heard a strangled sound and realized the Deep Water Demon, terror of the seas, was crying. Crying for him. Tears pricked in his eye, not of sadness, but of relief. Joy. It felt so right to have Yves in his arms again. He pulled back a bit, intending to kiss the living daylights out of the taller man. Yves gasped.

"Your eye…" He cupped Rowan's face between his elegant hands, running one thumb over his cheek beneath the eyepatch. For a moment Rowan was gripped with the irrational fear that his scars made him ugly in Yves's eyes. That Yves would turn him away.

"Who did this to you? I'll…" But Rowan was kissing him, and Yves surrendered his rage to it. They stumbled into the room Yves had just exited. It was plain, with a large desk, empty shelves and a large four-poster bed in the center. The tall windows looked out onto the harbor below where the Siren and the Kraken sat side-by-side at anchor.

Rowan had Yves half undressed by the time they made it to the bed. He didn't know what had suddenly come over him. Maybe it was the months and months of missing Yves or the long winter in his own cold bed. But now he needed to be as close to Yves as humanly possible. To feel his touch again. The final realization of his feelings for Yves was still raw in his heart. He hadn't confessed yet, and he didn't know if Yves felt the same, but it didn't matter. They were here now. Together.

For once Yves let Rowan take the lead, surrendering to Rowan's whims and desires. Rowan stripped off the last of his clothes and pushed him onto the bed, leaving him clothed only in his ruby earring and rings. There was not a mark on him, besides the one Rowan had left all those years ago. How had he survived the battle uninjured when everyone was so sure he had perished?

He was even more beautiful than Rowan remembered. Ethereal. Rowan almost couldn't recall why he'd left in the first place.

He stripped off his own clothes and knelt by the side of the bed, taking Yves's cock in hand and stroking it. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the velvety skin.

"Is this okay?" he murmured, remembering Yves's need for control.

"Yes," Yves gasped, "please…" He was already breathless, and Rowan had never seen him so vulnerable. It was almost frightening.

Rowan licked the tender underside of Yves's cock, relishing the moan that escaped the other man's perfect lips. Then he took the tip between his lips, watching Yves's long fingers twist into the sheets. He let the thick member slide slowly into his mouth. He couldn't take it all but went as far as he could, compensating with his hand around the base.

"Rowan…" Yves moaned. He seemed already lost to bliss, and Rowan wondered what had happened over the winter to make such a difference in him. He'd gone from a powerful and controlling sex demon to a whining puddle of need.

Rowan couldn't say he didn't like it.

Yves's hips began rolling in time with the bobbing of Rowan's head, pushing deeper and deeper into Rowan's throat until he was gagging. Yves's fingers tangled in Rowan's hair, holding him in place to take the thrusts until his eyes watered. He gagged again, and his teeth scraped down the shaft. Yves pulled Rowan's head back, releasing his cock from Rowan's mouth.

"That's enough." Yves's mood had shifted. He was done playing at submission. His voice was low and rough, almost like a real demon. Rowan looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes to see Yves already gazing at him with a passionate, burning fire. He pulled Rowan down onto the bed and rolled him so the back of his head was pressed into the pile of plush pillows.

"Now you're back where you belong," Yves purred, pressing his lips to the fluttering pulse at Rowan's throat. "Here. Beneath me."

Yves's words should have made Rowan feel trapped, but they exhilarated him. Rowan tilted his head to give Yves better access to the tender flesh of his neck. His body shuddered as Yves's teeth nipped at his skin. This was where he belonged, skin to skin with Yves.

"Gods, I missed you," Rowan said before he could stop himself. He felt Yves smirk against his skin.

"There are no gods here. But please tell me exactly what you missed about me all those winter nights alone. In detail."

Yves's mouth traveled down to Rowan's pert nipple, his tongue flicking over it teasingly. He moved his hand to Rowan's already weeping cock but didn't touch just yet. When Rowan didn't answer right away, their eyes met.

"Well? I'm waiting."

Rowan wiggled his hips, but Yves withdrew his hand just beyond touch. So that was how he was going to play it? Tease Rowan until he got his answers? Well Rowan would take that challenge. And win. All he had to do was drive Yves crazy first.

He took Yves's hand in his, but he didn't try to wrap those beautiful fingers around his cock as Yves expected.

"I missed you right here," Rowan said in a low voice. He guided the tips of Yves's fingers to his puckered hole. His dick twitched at the contact, and Yves's eyes darkened. "I missed you inside me…" he continued, guiding Yves's fingers to rub circles around the rim. He kept their gazes locked, watching every little flicker in Yves's expression. "I missed you fucking me till I passed out and making me come over and over again. I missed—" He inhaled sharply as Yves slicked his own finger with spit and dipped it into him, retrieving a suspiciously convenient bottle of lube from beneath the pillows with the other hand. After months of neglect, the sensation was electrifying.

"Did you save yourself just for me?" Yves teased. But Rowan could tell he was pleased at the thought that only he received the privilege of having Rowan in this way. Of being inside him and connected to him.

Rowan didn't answer. His back arched as Yves moistened his fingers with lube and pushed another finger in too soon, the sting of it causing Rowan to gasp. His thighs fell open a little further, and Yves settled between them on his knees as he worked Rowan open. He seemed as impatient as Rowan was. They'd waited long enough and almost died, after all .

"Please just fuck me," Rowan whined. Yves smirked at him and sped up the ministrations of his fingers, never breaking eye contact. He bent to run his long tongue over Rowan's shaft.

"Is this all you missed about me?" Yves cooed, but there was an edge to it. "That I can fuck you and fill you up just how you like?" His tongue skimmed the pink rim of the head of Rowan's cock. The fire blazing in Yves's dark eyes reminded Rowan of that night when he'd come to Rowan's rescue. The orange flames against the black water and sky were still vivid in his memory. The violent power present in every line of Yves's body that night had shaken him and made him question whether he knew the man at all. It had been as if Yves transformed and was no longer just a man, but had become some otherworldly creature that held no regard for human life.

And Rowan could still see it now, the potential for unspeakable cruelty contained in that lithe and perfect body. But it was not cruelty anymore and not toward him. That flawless skin held only one mark, one sign of weakness. And Rowan had put it there with that long ago bullet. Only Rowan could pierce the armor of savagery Yves had clothed himself in to get at the softness within. Only Rowan could devour this body made for violence and strip him down to his vulnerable soul.

With every passing moment that Rowan didn't answer, Yves stretched him wider, stroked his tongue over Rowan's quivering cock. Yet his facade was cracking. Of course Rowan hadn't only missed the physical pleasure Yves could give him. He'd missed that wry smile Yves had when something amused him. He'd missed Yves's clear fealty to the sister who had raised and protected him, the slight wheeze at the end of his rare laugh. He'd missed…everything.

Rowan was the one man on earth who could wound him. But he never would.

"Stop," Rowan gasped.

Yves's body went still, poised mid-lick. He withdrew his fingers reluctantly, confusion marring his brow.

Before he could say anything, Rowan hooked one leg around the back of Yves's knee and flipped him over. Yves let out a small huff of surprise as he was pressed into the downy mattress beneath Rowan's smaller frame. Rowan gripped Yves by the nape of the neck, forcing his head up to crash their lips together. His tongue slipped into Yves's hot mouth, and his hips rucked against him, drawing a moan from them both.

"You talk as if your place isn't inside me," Rowan said. Yves gripped his hip as the friction between their bodies increased. "As if you haven't imagined this a thousand times since I left. I see you, Yves. And that's why I missed you. Not just because you can wreck me like no one else but…" He still couldn't say it. Why couldn't he say it even now with Yves moaning beneath him and looking at him with those shining dark eyes? It should have been simple. Only three words to change everything.

I love you.

But it wasn't simple. So he kissed Yves once more and straddled his hips. He wasn't quite prepared enough, but he didn't care. If he couldn't say those stupid simple words, he would show it.

Yves's grip tightened as Rowan positioned himself over Yves's cock.

"You're not ready," Yves protested even as his cock twitched in anticipation as Rowan reached back to guide it.

"I don't care. I've been waiting for this all winter." He sank down slowly, wincing as Yves's monstrous thickness stretched out his slick walls. The coconut scent of the lube permeated his nostrils, and he threw his head back as he sank further and further, feeling every throbbing vein. Tears pricked the corners of his eye again, not from pain but the sudden release of pent up emotion.

"Fuck, Yves. I missed everything about you. They told me you were dead and…" A noise escaped him, half moan, half sob. The tears spilled over as he finally looked back down at Yves. Would this be enough for Yves to understand how he felt?

Yves's thumbs rubbed circles into Rowan's hips. His pelvis jerked up, fully seating himself inside Rowan's body. Rowan gasped. Then Yves sat up, supporting Rowan with one hand splayed across the small of his back.

"But I'm not dead." His mouth skimmed Rowan's collarbone. "As you can see, I'm here with you." His dick twitched deep in Rowan's core as if to illustrate the point. He pulled back slightly to see Rowan's face. "Don't cry now, even though you look so pretty when you do."

Rowan let out a shaky laugh, still sniffling a bit and rolled his hips so that Yves's shaft rubbed his supple pink insides. Rowan's own cock grazed Yves's stomach.

"So tight," Yves groaned. "Just like the first time I fucked you."

Rowan began to ride him, angling every stroke to hit the spots he needed. He was quickly becoming breathless with pleasure, his hips already aching from the unfamiliar movements. Yves watched him hungrily, his hand moving from Rowan's hip to finger the place where they were connected. He slipped the tip of his pinkie inside, stretching the rim of Rowan's hole even more. Rowan cried out, his hips stuttering to a stop.

"Can't take more?" Yves pouted. "I think you can. Maybe someday I'll show you just how much I can do." Rowan didn't know what he could possibly mean, but his body shivered with anticipation all the same. Yves swirled his pinkie around his own shaft, stretching Rowan's rim and eliciting another gasp. Yves smirked. "So sensitive."

Then Rowan was on his back, with not a clue how he'd gotten there. Yves slicked more lube over his own cock and hitched both of Rowan's shaky legs over his shoulders before thrusting powerfully in again. Rowan covered his own mouth with his hand as Yves's cock hit his prostate and sent an agonizing rush of pleasure through his body. Yves thrust again and again, his hips smacking against Rowan's ass with every stroke. Rowan pressed his hand tighter to his lips, muffling his cries of ecstasy.

Without stopping, Yves grabbed Rowan's wrist and wrenched it away from his mouth, forcing it down to the bed and holding it there.

"None of that, darling. I want to hear you scream for me."

And Rowan did scream. That delicious cruelty Yves exuded poured out of him with every brutal thrust. He cried Yves's name over and over like he was once again asking to be saved. Begging for every last thought, every ounce of self-consciousness and stupidity that kept him from confessing to be beaten out of him from the inside out.

Yves delivered. He was merciless. Powerful. And his black gaze never left Rowan's face even for a moment. He drank in the sight of his ruination like the finest wine. He licked his lips as the filthy squelch of his cock created a rhythm beneath the siren song of Rowan screaming his name.

He bent and kissed Rowan's parted lips, folding Rowan in half in the process and reaching newly agonizing depths .

"Rowan," Yves groaned, his voice full of all the grief of their long separation.

His free hand wrapped around Rowan's cock to stroke him, the other taking his weight and pressing Rowan's wrist painfully into the mattress. But Rowan didn't care about the pain. Pain was part of living, and right now pleasure outstripped it tenfold. He was losing his fucking mind with sensation now coming from the front and back. It felt like being battered by waves in a hundred-year storm. His torment and salvation was Yves. It would always be him.

Rowan choked out Yves's name one last time, and the storm pulled him under. His seed spilled hot and abundant across Yves's hand. For a moment, what remained of his vision was all darkness and stars. Yves rode him through it, and after a few more overstimulating thrusts, his cock throbbed out his own orgasm deep in Rowan's guts.

Rowan's consciousness swam back to the surface as the pressure on his wrist released, and Yves cupped his cheek. When Rowan's blue eye refocused it was to see Yves smiling down at him, a sheen of sweat across his brow and black hair disheveled. He gave one last feeble roll of the hips, causing Rowan to whimper. Then pulled out and collapsed beside him.

They lay tangled and exhausted, both content beyond reason.

"I suppose we should get up before John finds us here," Rowan laughed breathlessly. The sun had risen further, and the room was lit with golden morning light. He assumed it was John's room, based on the size and bareness, and felt momentarily embarrassed. Who else's could it be but the second in command? He didn't want the stern first mate to know how they'd defiled his nice clean bed.

He felt Yves's body go very still but couldn't see his face.

"He's alive?" Yves's voice was very quiet, almost as if he dared not let himself hope. Rowan tried to sit up, to look at his lover, but Yves's arms tightened around him.

"Tell me."

"He's alive," Rowan assured him. "He's been sailing with us all this time."

The tension went out of Yves's body, but he did not let Rowan go. Then he laughed.

"There's no need to beat a hasty retreat," he said. Rowan could feel the smile in his voice. "This room isn't his; I made it for you. "

Rowan pulled back to look his lover in the face, astonishment plain in his expression.

"I'm not trying to keep you," Yves assured him quickly. "I just thought…" He huffed out an exasperated breath at his own stumbling words, then seemed to collect himself. He ran his fingers through Rowan's messy hair, looking intently into his one remaining eye.

"I made this room for you, because I want you to make a home here. If you wish. I want us to be partners." He smiled, an edge of sadness on his lips as if he expected Rowan to reject him outright. When Rowan only stared, he continued, "Darling Rowan, I love you."

Rowan's heart clenched painfully. Then, when the full weight of Yves's words sank in, a curious warmth spread throughout his body. He blinked at Yves for a moment. His injured eye ached, causing dark flickers to dance in Yves's shadow, but it didn't compare to the ache of longing in his heart. Yves looked as if he was about to cry again. His thumb rubbed over Rowan's temple.

"R-Rowan." He fumbled with one of the rings on his finger, a practical, sturdy silver band studded with small sapphires and emeralds. Not the elaborate style of the Deep Water Demon at all. "Will you marry me?"

Rowan sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Again that nagging feeling that in the past this would have made him feel shackled, owned, but all he felt was a sense of peace spreading through his chest. He had a home. A true home. And it was here in Yves's arms.

"Yes," he breathed, and was gratified by the brightest smile lighting Yves's lovely face. An almost hysterical laugh bubbled up from Yves's lips, cut off before it could fully form. But Rowan wasn't done. He took Yves's face between his hands, looking into his eyes. They were a clear night on the open sea, vast and dark and full of stars. Rowan could have navigated the Siren by those eyes. And they would always lead him to safe harbor. "I love you too."

The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over onto Yves's cheeks. He buried his face into Rowan's neck.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear those words from you. I…I never meant to keep you. Not really. I only wanted more time to gather my courage to confess this weakness to you. "

"Loving me is a weakness?" In truth, Rowan hadn't been able to bring himself to say those words first. If anyone was weak, it was him.

"Loving you is the greatest weakness in the world. I thought it was impossible for me till I met you."

Rowan let his own tears spill over. He petted Yves's hair.

"I'm sorry it took so long," he murmured, then drew Yves into a tender kiss. "Aren't you going to put the ring on me?"

Yves smiled and slipped the ring onto Rowan's hand. It was a perfect fit.

"Where did you get it?" Rowan asked, admiring the glittering gemstones.

Yves looked a bit sheepish. "I scoured the seas for it, where else?"

"Is this why you sailed through the winter?" Rowan exclaimed. All of that danger and death, just to get him the perfect ring.

"Yes."

"How did you know I would come back?"

"I didn't. I just hoped. And, well, I needed to keep myself busy or I would go mad with wanting you. I thought if I had the perfect ring, it might bring you back to me."

"Your death brought me back to you."

Yves chuckled. "It's fitting then, that I almost died obtaining the ring."

They drifted for a while, the early afternoon light spilling across their naked bodies from the open window. Rowan realized he could hear birds singing to the beautiful spring day. The fool's day. But the two biggest fools on the island were tucked safely into this bed.

Yves ran his fingers through Rowan's hair, then down over the barely healed scars on his face. His thumb traced the edge of Rowan's eyepatch.

"Tell me what happened," he murmured. "Tell me who did this, and I will cut out his eyes and feed them to him."

"That's sweet. But I'm fairly sure you already killed him."

"I've done quite a lot of killing since you saw me last. You'll have to be more specific."

"It was Admiral Batteux. The one you saved us from."

Yves shifted uncomfortably at the name, then seemed to collect himself.

"Does it please you to know that I killed both he and Cyrus very slowly? "

Oddly, it did. Their secret was safe once again. They could let this be their home.

"Do I even want to know what you did to them?" Rowan asked wryly.

"Best leave it up to your imagination, darling."

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence. Yves couldn't take his eyes off Rowan's face, as if he couldn't bring himself to believe he was real.

Yves sat up suddenly. "This isn't what I planned," he all but wailed. "I had a whole candlelit dinner planned and…" He was cut off by Rowan's chuckle. Poor Yves looked so anguished about his botched proposal.

"We can still have dinner." Rowan laughed. "It's just now I'll be attending as your fiancé."