by K. Webster
Like I had to do with Avrell, it will be up to her to make that choice. All I can do is make sure she knows how sorry I am and hope she doesn’t want me gone.
I’m hopeful, until Draven notices my presence and his sub-bones crack. I’ve seen some pretty fantastic things since I’ve been with the morts, but I’ve never seen one of them transform so quickly and so violently. There’s no way I’m getting any closer, so I stop on the opposite side of the pen from them.
“I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to see if we could talk!” I shout. Another wave of pain flashes over my stomach, but I chalk it up to anxiety.
Molly flips her hair over her shoulder and holds a hand up to Draven, who has come to stand behind her. The rogcow makes a snorting, honking sound and she lays a hand on the beast’s head. And beast is a good name for it—creepy pink, hairless skin and one ugly eye. Yuck. Seems Molly’s ability to tame animals isn’t species-specific.
“I’m not sure that now is the best time, Grace,” Molly answers. I didn’t realize I would miss her after such a short time, but I do. Her bawdy laughter, her bubbly nature. I’d never had a true friend until Molly, and I can only hope I didn’t screw it up before I can tell her exactly that.
“It’ll only take a second and then I promise I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”
“My mate doesn’t want to talk to you,” Draven interjects.
I swallow thickly and meet his vengeful eyes. “I understand. I only want to reassure both of you that I will do everything in my power to help the mission to find your daughter. I’ll even go with Theron and Hadrian on their mission. I have intimate knowledge of the facility. I’ll go with them and break into Exilium Penitentiary and bring Willow back personally.”
“You’re pregnant,” Molly protests. “Besides, that’s not your responsibility.”
I take another step forward, then another when Draven doesn’t bare his sharp fangs in my direction. “My responsibility is to be a decent person to the woman who befriended me when I didn’t deserve one. I messed up. I hurt you. Let me make up for it,” I beg.
A vicious cramp has me closing my eyes and breathing deeply through my nose and then out through my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Molly asks.
Eileen makes a loud ROOOOONK and then I hear footsteps behind me before I can respond. The pain is so intense, I can’t speak until I feel it beginning to fade.
“What are you doing here?”
I manage to open my eyes and find a steaming Aria standing behind me. She passes off the snoozing bundle in her arms to Breccan, who tries to protest, but Aria shushes him.
With a hand on my belly, I try to focus through the pain. “I’m offering to help on the mission to go to the prison with Hadrian and Theron. To make up for holding back information that would have rescued your loved ones.”
This seems to take the wind from Aria’s sails, and she sputters. While she’s momentarily distracted, I turn back to Molly. “Please let me do this for you. You were there for me. Let me be there for you, too. As a friend. Please.”
“How am I supposed to trust you?” Molly asks.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you never did again.” I hold up a hand as my stomach heaves and contorts under my other palm. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you for the chance to make this right.” The words burst out between breaths. These cramps are really serious, but I have to finish what I came to say and then I’ll go lie down.
Maybe Say and Jareth will feed me some fruit and ice-cold water to make them go away.
“Are you okay?” Aria asks. Her concerned face wavers in front of my blurry vision.
“What are you doing with our mate?” Sayer shouts, and then he and Jareth appear in the doorway and make a run to my side. “Did you hurt her?”
Both of them begin to snarl and the air is filled with the sound of cracking bones.
I take Sayer’s hand and squeeze tight, a scream filling my lungs and bursting free. That’s not the only thing that bursts. My water breaks and floods my thighs. I look up at the astonished faces of my mates.
“They didn’t hurt me. I’m just in labor.”
14
Sayer
Labor?
As in the mortling is coming?
The world spins around me until Jareth grips my bicep, his clawed fingers digging into me, keeping me focused and alert.
“We need to get you to Avrell,” I choke out. “How are you feeling, Grace?”
She whines, so unlike her normal fierce nature. “It hurts. I’m scared.”
Jareth soothes her with a kiss to the top of her head. “We have you. Don’t worry.”
Everyone watches us with wide eyes, but I don’t have it in me to care about what they think. She’s ours and they can get over it.
“Uvie,” I rumble, finding my voice again. “Have Avrell ready the lab for our mortling’s arrival.”
“Oh shoot,” Molly cries out. “There’s so much to do for the baby’s arrival. Aria, help me gather some stuff.”
I scoop Grace gently into my arms to carry her to Avrell’s. Jareth strides down the hallway and flashes me a wide grin.
“Our mortling is coming,” he says, his eyes lit up with delight.
His happiness and excitement help put a lid on the fear I have. My mind is cluttered by what-ifs. Normally I’m so calm and reserved, but currently, I’m worried something will happen to Grace or the mortling. I’d be unable to cope if either didn’t make it through this. There’s still so much we don’t know about the humans.
I need her to be okay. Jareth and I both do. Where we’d been together all these revolutions, we weren’t fully complete. Reproducing was always something us remaining morts were never allowed the luxury to even think about. But still…I did anyway. Jare and I both did. Then Grace came along, pregnant with my mortling. Rather than tearing Jareth and me apart, it threaded us together even tighter. With Grace and the mortling right in the middle. She was our missing link. Our mortling will only bring more joy to our trio.
As soon as she delivers the mortling and we’re settled, I’ll announce to everyone officially in a meeting that Grace and Jareth are mine. That we’ll need the same ceremony Breccan and Aria had because I want them bound to me in both mort and human ways. I need it decreed and signed into being.
They’re mine and I won’t ever let them go.
We burst into Avrell’s lab and his eyes widen. Grace is hissing and whimpering. Her body goes rigid every so often as though she’s tensed in pain. I lay her down on the table and grip her hand. Jareth takes her other one, kissing the back of it.
Emery and Calix rush in before closing the door behind them. Where Jareth and I are useless in the lab, they know things and often help Avrell with his work. Calix begins grabbing tools while Emery comes over to talk to Grace. It makes me wonder who is caring for their newborn son.
“You can do this,” Emery says in a soothing voice. “Trust me, it’s scary, but the moment you hold your baby in your arms, your heart feels like it’ll burst with happiness. It’ll be worth the pain. We’re all here to help you through it. If the pain becomes too much, let us know.”
“It hurts really fucking bad right now,” Grace growls, squeezing my hand with surprising strength.
Jareth jerks his head toward Avrell. “She’s in pain.”
Avrell purses his lips. “Grace, on a scale of one to—”
“Ten!”
“Remember, the meds for pain are for when we have to cut into the body, so if you can refrain from needing it—” Avrell starts but gets cut off by both my and Jareth’s sub-bones popping.
Calix walks over to Grace and looks down at her. “You could be depriving other mothers of much needed medication should we have to cut into them to take their mortling. Again, on a scale of one to ten, how bad?” His intense stare gives no room for argument.
Grace lets out a huff as tears cascade down her cheeks. “It hurts but…” Her eyes dart to E
mery. “Molly might need it more when she goes into labor. I can do this.”
Jareth and I share a look of pride. Our mate is the strongest of all the females. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her and she was going feral in this very lab. Jareth strokes her sweaty hair from her face and kisses above her brow. I kiss her cheek.
As Calix runs the wegloscan over her stomach, Emery gently pulls off Grace’s pants. Rage burns up inside me knowing they will see her cunt, but I’m realistic enough to know they need to in order to safely deliver the mortling. Avrell cleans his hands and then drags a table on wheels filled with tools.
The door opens revealing Molly and Aria wearing serious expressions, but they come bearing blankets and small items for our mortling. I give them a nod of thanks as they pass on the materials to Emery and then they leave.
If Molly, Aria, and Emery are all here, that means there are several ill-equipped morts looking after the little ones. No wonder Molly and Aria seemed in a rush to get back. I would too if those empty-nogged morts were left alone with my mortyoung. Especially Hadrian. He’s practically a mortling himself. Sure as rekk acts like one.
“The mortling is crowning,” Calix says, his voice calm.
I’m not calm, though. I’m rekking losing my mind with worry.
“Listen, Grace,” Avrell says in a soft voice. “You’ll feel the pains and when they’re the strongest, that’s when you need to push. When the pains ease up, then you can rest. It’ll take several hard pushes to get the mortling out.”
“Based on the size on the wegloscan,” Calix explains, “you may have to push really hard.” He flicks his gaze my way. “The mortling has its father’s nog.”
Grace looks up at me and glowers. “Figures.”
Jareth smiles at me in an encouraging way the moment my face falls in horror.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Grace. I hate that her delivery will be more difficult because of me.
Her eyes suddenly water and she shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. That was mean. I’m just hurting and took it out on you.”
I let out a rush of relieved breath. “You can do this, brave Grace. We’re right here with you.”
She nods before turning her attention to Avrell. “Owwwwww.”
“Now,” Calix urges. “Push now.”
Grace bears down, a guttural scream clawing its way up her throat. She lets it loose—feral and crazed as her face turns bright red. Emery places a cool cloth on her forehead and whispers that she’s doing a great job. When the pain passes, Grace relaxes and sobs.
“I can’t do this,” she moans. “It hurts too bad—oh fuck!”
She curls around her stomach again, her face turning purple this time, as she pushes.
“Black hair,” Avrell barks out. “I can see dark hair. You’re doing great, Grace.”
Another wave of pain hits her and she screams again. It’s possible she’s breaking the bones in my hand, but I don’t mind. I’d gladly break all my bones if it helped her deliver our mortling.
“Emery,” Avrell bellows. “Hand me the suctionette.”
Emery hands him a tool and then he does something that makes a sucking sound.
“Oh my God,” Emery cries out, her hand flying to her mouth.
“What?” Jareth, Grace, and me all belt out at once.
“I’ve never seen anything so miraculous and beautiful. When I delivered Hophalix, I didn’t get to experience this side. The head is out, Grace. Your baby is almost here.” Emery lets out a choked sob.
Grace, more determined than before, bears down and pushes again. It takes several more bouts of pain and pushing and then Avrell grunts as he collects the mortling in his arms.
Jareth and I both gape at it in awe.
“This is…” Avrell chokes on his emotion. “This is the first female born of our faction in a very long time.”
Female?
“A little girl?” Grace whispers.
“You did this,” I tell her with pride. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”
Her bottom lip wobbles as Emery wraps the mortling in a blanket and then hands her to her mother. Jareth and I lean in close to inspect the perfect little being.
“She has your pout,” Jareth says to me, amusement in his tone. “Rekk, she’s perfect.”
“Sareth Gracyn,” Grace says. “Do you like that name?”
Jareth and I both nod. “Beautiful like her mother.”
It’s been hours since Sareth was born and Grace has fallen into a deep sleep. Now that Sareth has fed from her mother’s breast, Jareth and I have settled in side-by-side chairs across the room to marvel over the newest mortling in the faction.
Our mortling.
It’s miraculous as Emery had said.
I’m still amazed that this living, breathing precious thing belongs to us. We’re responsible for raising her to be strong like her parents.
“I love her,” I tell Jareth. “I only thought I loved her before. Then, she looked up at me and she sucked the breath right out of me. It’s surreal.”
Jareth chuckles. “I love her too. It’s so rekking cool she has your lips.”
“For Grace’s sake, let’s hope she doesn’t have your teeth.”
He bares his double fangs at me. “What’s wrong with my teeth?”
“You’re vicious.”
“You like it when I’m vicious.”
“That’s beside the point.”
We both laugh and Sareth jumps, scrunching her face. When she frowns, she looks just like Grace, which is adorable. I stroke my fingers through her black hair that matches mine and she calms again.
“One day,” I mutter aloud, “Sokko and Hophalix will be her friends. Who knows…one day they could be her mates.”
Jareth growls. “She’ll never have a mate.”
“And why’s that?” I ask in astonishment.
“What if her mate is mean to her? What if he doesn’t treat her like the princess she is?”
Irritation burns through me. “I see your point. No mate. Ever.”
“Especially not two,” Jareth says grumpily.
“I wonder if we could fix up a reform cell and keep her in there. Then Sokko and Hophalix would keep their grubby little hands to themselves.”
“I like the way you think, mate,” Jareth says, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me to him for a kiss.
Sareth makes a happy sigh and I smile against Jareth’s mouth. When we pull apart, I notice Grace staring at us. Her eyes are hard and her lips are pressed together, making a firm line. Shuffling Sareth into Jareth’s arms, I rise and walk over to Grace.
“How are you feeling? Need something to eat?”
She shakes her nog. “I’m fine.”
“You seem unhappy,” I argue. “Do you want to hold your mortling?”
Her nostrils flare. “You mean your mortling.”
Jareth walks up behind me. “Our mortling.”
Grace looks away as tears flood her eyes. She sniffles and swats at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I’m so happy I could give you a family,” she says, her voice cracking. “It makes it easier knowing the baby will be with parents who love her.”
Jareth and I exchange a confused look.
“You’re her family too,” I say slowly.
She swallows and hardens her expression. “When I’m gone, please love her with every ounce of your being.”
“Gone?” Jareth growls. “What do you mean gone?”
“I’m…I’m…” She sucks in a sharp breath. “I won’t be here any longer.”
“You’re going to The Eternals?” I ask, horrified by her words. I don’t know much about the machines that are attached to her, monitoring her health, but I thought she was healing like she was supposed to.
“The Eternals?” Her face scrunches. “What? Dying? Er, no. I’m leaving the Facility.”
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” I hiss out, panic swelling inside me. She can’t leave. She com
pletes us. We’re a rekking family!
“I can help find Molly’s daughter. It’s my duty. I need to do this…and if I don’t come back, I hope you’ll let Sareth know I tried to be a good person.”
“No,” Jareth snaps. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’ve made up my mind,” Grace argues back. “It’s the only way.”
“You’ll leave our daughter? Your mates?” I ask, emotion shredding my insides. I don’t like the feeling of loss that’s clawing at me.
Fat tears roll down her red cheeks. “Theron and Hadrian will need a guide at Exilium. I have knowledge that can help. I need to make things right with Molly and Aria. It’s the only way.”
“Leaving us is the wrong way,” I snap. “It’s rekking wrong, Grace, and you know it.”
Her lip wobbles. “I don’t belong here.”
“You belong with us,” Jareth bites out.
She glances at Sareth and then darts her gaze between Jareth and me. “You two had it handled just fine over there. You’ve always had each other and I was an outsider. I’m flawed and messy. I don’t deserve you two freaks. But you deserve this baby and it’s my gift to you.”
I’m shaking my nog when Grace holds up a hand. “Please leave.”
I glower at her. “No.”
“Leave and take her with you,” she whispers, not meeting our glares. “I can’t look at you anymore. It’s too hard.”
“You can’t do this to us,” Jareth pleads. “Grace. Don’t do this.”
“Go before I scream and make them take you away,” she threatens as she sobs. She curls into herself and rolls away from our penetrating stares.
“Grace,” I choke out.
“GO!” she screams so loud Sareth starts to cry.
Jareth holds the mortling to his chest and pats her back. His jaw clenches and then he storms out of the lab.
I lean forward and kiss Grace’s nog.
“You belong with us,” I whisper before walking away.
Her sobs break every sliver of happiness inside of me, but I sense she needs her space and some time. I’ll give it to her because I love her. But eventually that time will run out and we’ll be back for her.