Ellard glanced at Gweneth and away, a tight band of emotion forcing him to struggle for breath. “Of course,” he said. The sooner they did the tour, the sooner he could lose himself in work. It was time to check the fitness of his soldiers and guards. That would help keep his mind off Gweneth.
Chapter 16
Eight cycles later, Gweneth’s suite
Sheera shimmered into Gweneth’s suite, startling a squeak from Gweneth. She pressed her palm against her pounding heart and glared at the Incorporeal woman.
“New rule,” she said with a distinct edge to her tone. “You and Leeam are welcome to visit me at any time, but you must shimmer your arrival outside my door and knock for admittance. This is my private space. You must do the same for all of us. Knock for admittance, and if we come to visit you in your suite, we will do the same. Clear?”
Some of Sheera’s good humor faded and she started to vanish.
Gweneth grabbed her arm. “Stay. I am not feeling well, and I’m grumpy.”
Sheera solidified again. “I’m sorry. You’re right of course. Leeam and I will remember our manners in the future. What is wrong with you? Can I help?”
“Keep me company until Mogens arrives. I commed him, and he said he’d drop by after he checks on Camryn.”
Sheera gave a wide smile. “The babies are beautiful.”
“I know. They are healthy. I hope Camryn recovers soon. Ry is worried and snapping at everyone.” She made a moue with her lips. “It must be catchy.” Her stomach roiled without warning and she made a run for the sanitizer room.
The small amount of food she’d managed to eat after rising came back up. Her stomach muscles heaved, her throat burned as she lost her breakfast. Gweneth wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened with a sigh. Even that hurt.
“Mogens is here,” Sheera sang out.
“Let him inside,” Gweneth croaked. “I won’t be a min.”
Gweneth gripped the hard edge of the sanitizer unit and stared into the looking glass. The paleness of her features brought to mind a healthy Incorporeal. Pale with an underlying pinkness.
Her stomach did a shimmery dance again and she froze, wondering if she should dare move.
“Gweneth?” Mogens footsteps approached. “Sheera said you aren’t well.”
“Is Sheera still here?”
“No, she shimmered out to meet Leeam in the gardens once I arrived.” He shook his head, his pale gray features alive with good cheer. “They are so young and full of enthusiasm. I am glad you were able to save them.”
“Me too,” Gweneth croaked, the writhing of her stomach too much for her. She vomited again.
“Ah,” said Mogens. “I begin to suspect the nature of your illness.”
“Can you fix me? This is the third morn I’ve been sick. It’s weird because I only get sick in the morn. By eve, I’m hungry and able to eat.”
“’Tis as I expected, child. Wash your face and rinse out your mouth. I’ll be in your relaxation room when you’re ready, and we will talk.”
Gweneth sucked in a deep breath and followed Mogens’s instructions. “Is it something serious?”
“I suspect you are pregnant.”
The verbal punch had her clutching her chest, struggling to breath. He…he… Pregnant? She couldn’t be. “I used your birth control tonics. You know that.”
“Yes, but you and Ellard created sexual energy to keep Leeam and Sheera alive.”
Gweneth swallowed, Ellard’s recent behavior another hard slap to her equilibrium. “Um, yes? But that wasn’t long ago. Should I be having this sickness already?”
“Let me analyze a blood sample to confirm, but I’m fairly certain. The morning sickness is another feline shifter peculiarity, since it occurs almost straightaway. I believe the sickness doesn’t occur until at least week six in humans. That is what Camryn’s sister-in-law told me during our Earth visit.” Mogens opened his satchel and competently took the sample. He placed the vial containing her blood inside a protective vessel and closed his satchel. “I will have confirmation in two cycle portions.”
Gweneth nodded and sank onto her favorite gel-chair, no longer able to support her weight on her shaky legs.
“It will be all right, child.” Mogens patted her shoulder.
“Ellard has distanced himself. I-I don’t know how he’ll react to the news.”
“Let me get confirmation, and we can go from there.” Mogens squeezed her shoulder, a ribbon of black bleeding into the gray of his countenance. “You have family, friends. No matter what happens, Gweneth, you will have our support.”
She nodded dumbly, her mind full of shock, disbelief, and if she was honest, a trace of excitement because she didn’t doubt Mogens’s diagnosis. He seldom made mistakes.
A baby.
She watched Mogens depart, her vision focused on the solid door as he closed it with a soft click.
A baby.
Her hand went to her flat belly, and she rubbed lightly. “I wonder how your father will react.”
Two cycles later.
Ellard arrived in the communal dining room to find his brother and Ry.
“How is Camryn?” he asked.
Ry yawned and rubbed his blood-shot eyes. “Mogens says she’s improving but she sleeps most of the time. She lost so much blood.”
“The kittens?” Shiloh asked.
Ry smiled briefly. “My son and daughter are thriving.”
Lynx arrived with a pregnant Jannike. Nanu and Kaya strode in a few secs later.
“I’m starving.” Kaya sat at the table and helped herself to a wedge of Polis melon. Cubes of the delicate pink flesh disappeared into her mouth with rapid efficiency.
Mogens arrived, his black satchel clasped in his left hand.
Everyone grabbed their normal seats and started to break their fasts.
Gweneth didn’t come, and the lump of unease sitting in the pit of Ellard’s stomach grew. He hadn’t seen Gweneth for cycles. She didn’t join them for meals and he hadn’t seen her around the castle. Not that he’d been around much. He’d spent three cycles out at Jarlath and Keira’s farm and the rest of the time he’d kept busy putting his soldiers through rigorous training and tests.
Still, he would have expected to catch glimpses of her throughout his cycle.
His conscience urged him to talk to her again, to explain why it would be best for her to move on with her life without him. Tension bled through his limbs, bringing his feline to the surface. His hand tightened around his vessel of tay, claws protruding from beneath his fingernails.
This cycle, he decided.
Putting this meeting off was cruel to both of them.
“Does anyone know where Gweneth is?” he asked.
“She isn’t feeling well,” Mogens said. “She is in her suite.”
Ellard stood.
“Take her this,” Mogens said and handed him a plate bearing two slices of hardtack biscuit.
Ellard started to add quigly spread, a fruity green concoction and the traditional accompaniment but Mogens shook his head.
“No, just the hardtack. Tell her to nibble on it,” Mogens instructed and calmly went back to his meal.
Ellard frowned at Mogens, frowned at the squares of crisp hardtack and shrugged. Mogens was the medic. He supposedly knew his art.
At Gweneth’s suite door, he paused, hampered by the plate in his one hand. In the end, in kicked the door. Soft voices came from within and an instant later, Leeam opened the door, a vision in green and red.
He beamed, his pale face glinting with undertones of pink. “Ellard. Just in time. Sheera and I have a com-meeting with Uncle Niran.”
Ellard stepped into Gweneth’s suite, his gaze going straight to Gweneth. She sat curled up on her favorite gel-chair, her features wan yet beautiful.
His breath caught as he stared at her.
“Hello, Ellard. Did you enjoy your stay with Jarlath and Keira?”
“Yes.” He thrust the plate
at her. “Mogens told me to bring you these. He said you should nibble on them.”
“Thanks. Why are you here? I thought you’d said everything when you rejected me on the journey from Narenda.”
Ellard flinched at the harsh words even though he deserved them. He sighed and decided to lead with the truth. He owed her that at least. “I love you, Gweneth. From the moment I saw you I wanted you.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Please, let me finish.”
She sniffed and bit off the end of a hardtack.
Unable to stand in one place, Ellard started to pace. “You know my history. Because of me, the House of Cawdor got a foothold here on Viros. No woman had ever paid such close attention to me before, and I fell for it. I’m not pretty like Shiloh, and now I have one arm.”
“You can get another.”
“No, I can’t. Not only was it expensive, but the way they install it means it is a one-time proposition. They warned me of this when they installed it and I accepted the risks. Most beings who have a Stores go through their lives without mishap. I had bad luck.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let self-pity take over. Jarlath had lectured him, told him he was unique and he felt proud to call him friend. He’d also threatened to kick his butt if he fell into despondency again. Ellard accepted he was a work-in-progress in the self-pity stakes. While he struggled, Gweneth didn’t need the weight of his problems on her shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She leapt out of her gel-chair so fast, the impression of her butt remained for secs after she’d disappeared into her sanitizer room.
With his acute feline hearing, Ellard caught the loud noises she made as she vomited.
His footsteps took him to the doorway.
“Go away.”
“No, you’re not well. Let me call Mogens.”
“He can’t help me.” Gweneth straightened. “Wait for me out there. I have something to tell you.”
Indecisive, Ellard hovered.
“Wait for me.” Gweneth slammed the door in his face.
Unable to sit because of his worry, Ellard paced back and forward in front of a window. Not even the view of the square and the forest beyond, one of his favorite places, snagged his attention. Instead, he worried about Gweneth. Mogens knew of her symptoms, yet he hadn’t seemed overly concerned.
The click of the door drew his attention, and he spun around to face her.
“Have a seat.”
Ellard studied her impassive features. “I prefer to stand.”
“So it’s easier for you to get a running start?”
He gaped at her. “What?”
“The reason I keep throwing up each morn is because I’m pregnant.”
Her words pierced the silence like blaster fire. Ellard’s knees wilted and he dropped, a gel-couch breaking his fall.
“Did you hear me?” Spots of color highlighted her cheeks.
“Pregnant?” He swallowed, certain his hearing deceived him.
She sighed. “Yes.”
“You…pregnant?”
“Yes,” she snapped, her chin lifting in challenge. “And before you ask, Mogens is sure.”
Panic, the like of which he’d never felt before, blasted through him. Thoughts roared through his head and his feline took over. Flight. He traveled halfway down the corridor before his humanoid self thought better of the action.
Unwilling footsteps took him back, and he found Gweneth curled up on her gel-seat, silent tears running down her cheeks.
Something twisted inside him. She was his mate. He knew this even as he knew that tying herself to him wasn’t her best option.
“We’re having a kitten?” Even in his state of shock, he didn’t doubt her words as truth. If she expected a child, then he was the father.
“Yes.”
“All right. What do you want me to do?”
Her mouth tightened. “You don’t have to do anything. I just thought you should know.”
“Gweneth, I’m no catch. I’d be loyal. I’d love you and our kitten, but I could never hold them. Not safely.”
“I don’t want you to take responsibility for me and our kitten because you feel guilty. I need love like Camryn and Jannike have. I won’t settle for less.”
“I understand. Let me help you as a friend.”
“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. Ellard, you don’t understand. I love you. I have loved you since I first saw you. When I look at you, I don’t see a handicap. I see a strong, loyal man who would do anything for his friends. I don’t want you to commit to me because you think it is the right thing to do. I deserve a male who loves me without reservation. If I say yes to you now, what is to stop you from changing your mind later? We wouldn’t be proper mates. Nothing would hold us together.”
“Our kitten would—”
“No. I won’t allow my child to be put in that position.”
“Our child,” Ellard countered. “Nothing has changed since we were on Narenda.”
“Not true.” Gweneth faced him without flinching. “You rejected me. I’m telling you about my pregnancy because it’s the right thing to do. You should know you’re going to be a father.”
Ellard stared at her, attempting to read her mind. Despite engaging his feline senses, he discovered nothing of use, no clue as to how he could fix this breach between them.
“You should go now,” Gweneth said.
Ellard stared at her for a fraction longer and realized he needed to regroup. Nothing he said now would help the situation, one of his own making he had to admit. She needed time. He needed time.
“Com me if you need anything.”
“I don’t need you.”
“Com me,” he insisted.
After a brief pause, she gave a grudging nod.
“Thank you.” Ellard turned away, confident she would com him, but the knowledge didn’t halt the turmoil rising in his gut. His feline snarled, the cry of displeasure echoing through his head.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
The word, the thought repeated over and over until he wanted to growl and roar at the accompanying pain. This wasn’t how he’d imagined this meeting. Ellard headed along the corridor, flinching at the close of the door behind him. It sounded like a full stop on the problem. Pregnant. He was going to be a father. Dizziness assailed him, his stomach pitching as shock did a dance through his mind yet again. A father.
Without knowing how he got there, he found himself in the rear garden, striding amongst the formal floral beds toward the stand of trees at the rear. The clash of swords came from the practice area and Ellard headed in that direction. Lynx and Ry practicing together. Shiloh stood watching and offering words of encouragement to both feline shifters.
Shiloh glanced at him, frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Gweneth is pregnant.”
“What? How?”
Ellard barked out a laugh. “The usual way.”
“Birth control?”
“She took birth control,” Ellard said. “At least, that is what she told me.”
“What’s the problem? You love her. Even I can see you love her. I saw the two of you together.” Shiloh’s brows drew together. “Wait. What did you do?”
“I told her I held no interest in pursuing a relationship with her.”
“What?” Shiloh shut his mouth with a click. “Why would you do that? She’s been chasing after you since she first arrived on Viros. I’ve seen you looking back.”
Ellard swallowed to rid himself of the lump that had taken up residence in his throat. “Look at me. I’m nothing to look at and I’ve lost my arm. I can’t hold a kitten—not easily. It takes me longer to get things done. I’m handicapped, and I don’t want to put that extra pressure on a relationship. When I had my Stores it wasn’t so bad, but now…”
“Rotten luck losing your Stores.” Shiloh clapped him over the back. “But you’re still alive. Don’t let father’s prophecy become true.”
> Ellard pulled his face. The instant he’d lost his arm, his father had wanted Jarlath to replace him with an able-bodied soldier. Jarlath had refused and forced Ellard back to the land of the living. Ellard snorted inwardly. He’d become stubborn and believed his life over, but Jarlath hadn’t put up with his sorry-for-me attitude. “I did save the girl. That has to count for something.”
Shiloh grinned, and for an instant, Ellard felt transported back to their childhood. He’d been the sensible one while Shiloh, aided by Lynx, had created trouble and chaos. “You helped the girl become pregnant. What are you going to do?”
“I want—she’s my mate. I know this, but how can I saddle her with my problems?”
“Look at it this way, Ellard. If another male came along and wanted her, what would you do?”
A savage growl escaped him, shocking him with its intensity.
“Your answer,” Shiloh said lightly. “You want the child?”
“Yes.” He never hesitated, which gave him pause.
“You need to woo her. Apologize and become her mate in fact.”
Ellard snorted. “You make it sound easy.”
“Wooing a mate is never easy, but the heartache and uncertainty is worth every stressful sec.”
Ellard turned and stalked back toward the castle.
“Where are you going?”
“To start my wooing.”
“Women like flowers,” Shiloh called after him. “You could pick some before you go back inside.”
Ellard halted. “I might need help.”
Shiloh sketched a bow. “At your service, brother.”
Flowers picked, Ellard caught his breath as he knocked on Gweneth’s suite door. The scent of the brocken flowers filled the air, sweet and fragrant, their white petals and red throats a contrast against the pale pink fern leaves. He hoped Gweneth would enjoy them. He juggled the flowers and awkwardly knocked with his foot again.
Sheera opened the door. “Come in. What pretty flowers.”
“They’re for Gweneth.”
“A good start.” Sheera’s voice held approval.
“Ellard, what are you doing here?” Gweneth asked, and her tone sounded distinctly cool.
“I was wrong. Thickheaded and stubborn. I want to make it up to you.” Ellard handed her the flowers.
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