Expecting The Unexpected (Nakaka Book 3)

by Cree Storm

  “Are you sure Spencer is pregnant? Could he just be sick, or have a tumor growing, or something?” Groth asked.

  Caden snorted, “He doesn’t have a tumor growing, he’s pregnant. I ran both a urine and blood test.”

  “Spencer’s pregnant? Are you serious?” Peth asked in wonder.

  Nodding, Hron replied, “Very, and although I’m thrilled for our kind, it seems that Spencer had no idea he was creating a chickpea when he and Throg got together.”

  “By the gods and all their glory,” Krerr whispered in amazement.

  “Our prayers have been answered. Congratulations, Throg and thank you... thank you and your mate for bringing the Nakaka hope for a new and brighter future.” Stok said with a smile.

  “Fathers, although I agree this news will bring our people hope and something to celebrate, Spencer isn’t feeling much like celebrating at the moment. Not only did he not agree to birth a child, he and Throg are not mates.” Hron stated grimly.

  “It is impossible for a Nakaka to impregnate someone without knowing what they are doing, and it is also impossible for a Nakaka to impregnate anyone without them being mates.” Peth stated to everyone.

  Throg sat up straight. “I didn’t knowingly bring on this pregnancy. It was hard enough to...” Throg shook his head sitting back further in his seat, muttering, “I didn’t knowingly impregnate him. I wouldn’t have done that.”

  “Then explain how we have a young shifter preparing for a chickpea to be born for the first time in this, or any clutch, in over two hundred years,” Hron snapped.

  “I can’t,” Throg admitted.

  “Because it isn’t possible,” Peth stated firmly.

  Hron’s father’s looked at each other looking distinctly uncomfortable. Krerr cleared his throat, “Uh, that isn’t exactly true.”

  Throg’s head turned so fast to face Hron’s fathers that he was surprised he didn’t snap it... or give himself whiplash at the very least. What the hell were these two men talking about?

  Stok sighed, “Krerr, maybe this isn’t...”

  “This is exactly the time, Stok. Hron knows we love him as we do all our sons, and we know our sons love us as much, and this won’t change Hron’s feelings either. We raised him better than that.” Krerr argued with his mate. “We can’t allow anyone to think poorly of Throg. He doesn’t deserve that, and you know it.”

  Stok continued to look directly at Krerr, never wavering. After a few moments, Krerr whispered, “We must, Stok. If Nakaka can become pregnant once again, we must let them know that this can happen.”

  “Papa, what are you two hiding?” Hron asked his birth father.

  Stok let out a deep breath and turned to his son. “Although we don’t know about non-mates getting pregnant, we do know that it is possible to accidentally impregnate a mate.”

  “You weren’t exactly planned, Hron.” Krerr muttered.

  Hron went still. Hell, Throg questioned whether the man was even breathing.

  “Explain,” Was all Hron said.

  Sighing heavily, Stok said, “You know that the Nakaka were created to care for all the humans. It is why the gods created us to begin with. We are the protectors the ones that—”

  “I don’t need a Nakaka history lesson, father. I need to know what you mean by it being possible for our kind to accidently cause another’s pregnancy,” Hron said, in exasperation.

  “I’m getting there, son. I’m not happy about telling you this to begin with, so I would appreciate you allowing me to do this at my own pace,” Stok grumbled, then continued, “In order to do our job, it required training—lots and lots of training—and your papa and I usually did that training together.”

  “Aaaannnd,” Hron practically growled.

  Petree’s smile was wide. “I get it. You two got into that training, half-naked, sweaty and rolling around, and one thing led to another.”

  Krerr’s cheeks pinkened. “Boy, did it! You have no idea what a domineering Stok does to my blood.”

  “Papa!” Hron snapped.

  “What? Your father is hot as hell, especially when all his muscles are glistening with sweat and... Gods, that was the hottest sex Stok and I—”

  “Hey! I don’t want to hear about how sexy you find my father, or how you and father ‘go at it’, papa.” Hron hurriedly interrupted, even using air quotes.

  Krerr’s brow rose, “Please, it isn’t like we had seven sons by immaculate conception.”

  “Well, that’s how I like to think about it,” Hron muttered.

  “The point is, we lost control that day, and the next thing we know, Krerr is expecting you,” Stok snapped.

  Hron’s eyes snapped to his father’s. “Are you telling me I was a mistake? A whoopsie? A ‘how the hell did that happen’ moment?”

  “You, Hron, were our greatest joy and surprise. You are not a mistake and never were. You just weren’t planned,” Krerr said, then looked at Throg. “The only thing we could figure out was that our coming together was so explosive, neither of us were thinking clear and the wrong gland was released. Could that have been what happened with you and Spencer?”

  Throg could only nod, not wanting to discuss his and Spencer’s sex life... well, if it could be called that.

  “There’s still the issue of not being mates,” Peth stated firmly.

  “We’re mates,” Throg murmured.

  Elijah gasped, “What did you just say?”

  Throg lifted his gaze and looked around the room. “I said, we are mates. Spencer is my Viata.”

  “How could... I don’t understand, Throg. You and Spen... Why? Why are you refusing Spencer? He’s a wonderful and beautiful man,” Petree wondered, in complete confusion.

  Mason snorted, “He’s refusing Spencer for just the reason Spencer said. Throg doesn’t want him because of what happened with Chantal.”

  “That’s not true!” Throg shouted, as he stood up, so fast, his chair went flying behind him.

  Mason, Abe and Bryant stood up just as fast. Abe snarling, “What other reason could there be? I admit I don’t know the Nakaka as well as I should, but I thought you guys coveted Viatas as much as shifters do their own mates.”

  “We do,” Groth said, looking at Throg thoughtfully.

  Throg didn’t like the way the doctor stared at him. It was as if the man could see into the deepest, darkest part of his very soul. Like he could read Throg’s mind as well as body.

  “Then, explain it to us. Explain how you could refuse the man fate deemed as the one being in this entire world that can complete you?” Abe snapped.

  “Yeah! Explain!” Elijah said, crossing his arms and giving a sharp nod.

  “I don’t have to explain anything to any of you.” Throg snarled.

  When everyone started talking at once, Dr. Oleander held his hand up. “He’s right. This is a mating issue, and by shifter law, he isn’t required to answer to anyone in regards to it. However, I do have a question for you, Throg, if you don’t mind?”

  Throg looked at the shrink warily, but nodded. “You can ask, but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

  “Fair enough,” Dr. Oleander said, then asked, “You are the second born from the gods to the Nakaka, correct?”

  “Yes,” Throg answered warily.

  Dr. Oleander asked, “If I remember correctly, from my teachings, the ancients are the first born designed by the gods to protect the humans, and the second born were designed to protect the ancients and their families.”

  Even though it hadn’t been a question, Throg nodded, answering, “Yes.”

  “That means you were there when the attack took place on the Nakaka over two hundred years ago?” Dr. Oleander asked.

  Throg’s body stiffened, “I don’t talk about that time.”

  De. Oleander nodded as he clasped his hands in front of him, softly saying, “Maybe you should.”

  Throg couldn’t stop his snarl. “And maybe, you should keep your shrink shit to those that need it.” />
  “Throg, calm yourself. I will not have you disrespecting the doctor,” Hron warned.

  “It’s fine Hron. I have the answers I needed... well mostly.” Dr. Oleander said, just as quietly as before.

  Unable to take any more of these people’s questions and stares, Throg made his way to the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Throg? You haven’t been dismissed,” Hron stated in the Caliph tone he rarely used on others.

  Turning to look at the Caliph, Throg said, “I don’t know what happened, or how it happened that Spencer is expecting our child, but I do know that my mate is hurting. He’s hurting, scared, and feeling very alone. I need to go to him. I need to talk to him. I need him to understand why we can’t be mates. I need... I need...” Throg’s voice box seemed to lock up on him, stopping him from being able to say another word.

  “You need to make your mate understand that he is safe, going to be okay, and that he isn’t alone. You want to make him feel better,” Dr. Oleander gently said.

  Throg nodded, then looked at Spencer’s friends. “I had no choice, but to deny him. I am a guardian, born by the gods to do a job. I must set everything aside, even a mate, to do that job. I won’t leave him alone to raise our child, but I cannot be his mate. It is... It is the way of things. I’m sorry.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Spencer walked back into the club and sat back down on the piano bench. It was crazy how tired he was, but he couldn’t allow himself to stay lying in his bed, either. He was too afraid that he would allow his depression to become so bad he wouldn’t get out ever again, and that just couldn’t happen. He needed to stay strong and be there for his child.

  He didn’t know whether the baby was going to be a boy or girl. Granted, Throg was Nakaka, but Spencer was a sloth shifter. The baby could take after Throg and that would mean most definitely they would have a son, since Nakaka were always born male. There were no females in their world. However, the baby could also take after Spencer and if that were the case, he could have a girl... right? Women sloth shifters had girls as well as boys, so couldn’t he?

  It didn’t really matter to Spencer. All he hoped for was a healthy and happy baby. He didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl... just healthy and happy. That meant Spencer had to take care of himself. He needed to eat right, exercise... well, shit, that wasn’t something he was going to look forward to. Spencer hadn’t exercised a day in his life. He was a sloth for goodness sake. Exercise was like saying a cuss word to him, but if it meant keeping his unborn child healthy, then he’d do it.

  He pressed down on another key, still thinking about all the things he needed to do. He had a bank account he hadn’t touched since coming to the clutch. Hell, Hron had given all of them a huge payout when he took over as Caliph. He said he had known it wasn’t going to help take away the pain and torment Chantal had put them all through, but it would help them keep going if they weren’t up to starting to work again, and wanted to leave the clutch house.

  Spencer hadn’t known what he was going to do for a while. He had considered leaving, but the thought of leaving Petree during his recovery, wasn’t something he was prepared to do. The Nakaka had sacrificed so much for him, Mason, Elijah, Bryant and Abe. There was no way he was going to go away and leave the guy behind. He couldn’t. He owed it to Petree and if Spencer was being honest, he was scared as fuck to go out into the world alone. As it was, Spencer saw shadows all around him. Danger, just waiting to take him out along with his friends.

  A rustling sound at the far right of the stage had Spencer turning, “Is someone there?”

  No answer.

  “Hello?” Spencer called out, but again there was no answer.

  Thinking he must have mistaken the sound, Spencer went back to playing some keys on the piano, only to stop once again when a small thud had him stopping once more.

  Getting up from the bench, Spencer took a tentative step towards the back of the stage. “Hello? Elijah, is that you?”

  No one answered, and Spencer felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Someone was watching him. He could feel it. His sloth could feel it, and the feeling wasn’t a good one. “Who is it? Who’s back there?”

  “Spencer, is everything alright?”

  Spencer screamed and whipped around, his hand over his heart “Fuck me, you fucktard, titmouse, bastard. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Throg stood there with his brow raised, and then a fierce look on his face. “What’s going on? I apologize for scaring you, but I did say your name twice before approaching.”

  Spencer asked, “How long have you been here?”

  “I just walked in. I’d gone to your room and you weren’t there, so I came here,” Throg answered, walking closer. “What’s going on, Spencer?”

  Shaking his head, Spencer walked forward on the stage. “I don’t know. I thought I heard someone back there, but when I called out no one answered. I guess I scared myself for no reason. Why were you looking for me? I know Hron wants us to find those drives, and I swear I’ll get right on it. I just needed a day to myself.”

  “It wasn’t about the flash drives, Spencer, and you know it. We have a lot to discuss,” Throg answered.

  “No we don’t. I told you, I know you don’t want me as your mate. I know you didn’t get me pregnant on purpose. I won’t keep this child from you. I’ll raise this baby the best I can, and if you ever want to see him or her, I will never deny you that right. He or she should know both their fathers.” Spencer said, walking closer to the piano once more.

  Just as Spencer moved, one of the stage lights fell from the ceiling to the floor, right where Spencer had been standing.

  Throg was on the stage, with Spencer in his arms before Spencer even knew what had happened. He turned to look. “What the fuck? What was that?”

  “A light from up there,” Throg said, pointing to the ceiling.

  “How the hell did that light come down?” Spencer asked, starting to shake, realizing how he could have been killed if he had continued to stand where he had been.

  Throg pulled back from Spencer and gave him a quick scan. Spencer knew he was looking for injuries. “I’m fine, Throg. It just scared the shit out of me.”

  “Stay here. I’m going to check this shit out,” Throg said, turning to go to the back area, where Spencer had told him he’d heard sounds coming from. Spencer heard him talking to someone, but didn’t know who. “I need some men to come to the club. We might have a problem.”

  Throg’s voice faded the further he went back on the stage, and Spencer couldn’t help but look around fearfully. A low, gravelly voice came from above the stage, “Next time, shifter.”

  “Throg! Throg!” Spencer shouted. He could still hear the soft laughter, until Throg came racing back to him.

  “What is it? What happened?” Throg asked, looking around anxiously.

  Spencer was shaking badly. “Someone was here. Someone... they said... Oh gods.”

  Throg looked around once more, “Where? Where did you see them?”

  Shaking his head, Spencer wrapped his arms around him, suddenly feeling cold. “I... I didn’t. The voice... it... he...”

  Strong arms wrapped around Spencer, and between the warmth and scent of his mate, Spencer felt himself calming a bit, but not much. However, it was damn sure better than it had been. “Just take a few deep breaths and get some control.”

  Spencer did as Throg directed and felt himself calming bit by bit. Once he was breathing normally again and the shakes had all but stopped, Throg asked, “Now tell me what happened.”

  “You went to the back, and as soon as you were out of sight, I heard a voice coming from up there” Spencer said, pointing to the ceiling. “It was so deep... and scared the shit out of me.”

  “What did they say?” Throg asked, his features darkening with anger the more he listened.

  Spencer swallowed hard, even though spit wasn’t even forming in his mouth at that point, the fear st
ill filling him. “Next time, shifter.”

  The sounds of men running into the room made Spencer squeak, turning to see what was happening now.

  “It’s okay. It’s just Groth and his men. I called them in to help check things out,” Throg said, stepping away from Spencer as Groth approached them.

  “What’s going on?” Groth asked, in that no-nonsense way of his.

  Throg pointed to the shattered light in the middle of the stage floor. “That fell, just barely missing Spencer. I checked out the back, but I didn’t see anything.”

  “You called an emergency, because a light fell?” Groth asked in confusion, and sounding a bit peeved.

  Spencer felt his hackles rise, “Look you overgrown behemoth. He called you because it damn near killed me. I don’t think it was an accident, and neither does Throg.”

  Groth raised a brow. “Behemoth?”

  “If the clodhopper fits, shove it up your ass,” Spencer snarled. “Yes, behemoth. Do you honestly think that Throg would call you for bullshit? Seriously? A guardian of the ancients is going to call your dumb ass, because I almost got killed by a ‘just so happened to fall’ light? He isn’t stupid, Groth. I heard noises coming from the back just before Throg got here. I was telling him that and had just moved from that very spot...” Spencer pointed once more where the broken lighting was, “...when it came crashing down.”

  “It could have just been a coincidence. The lighting could have been loose or something,” Groth stated.

  Spencer’s hands slapped onto his hips, as he sarcastically said, “Oh you’re right. A light that’s checked three times a day, every day, might have come loose. One that is not only bolted onto the railings, but is also tied to them... yep, it could have come loose. What you can’t explain is how it’s possible that Throg goes to check shit out, and in the exact spot that light was connected to, a deep, dark voice said, and I quote, ‘Next time, shifter.’ Does that sound like a coincidence to you all, great and knowing?”

  Groth pursed his lips as his white-and-brown-tipped eagle wings began to flutter in annoyance. However, the man said nothing to Spencer. Instead, he turned to one of his men, “Donte, I want you and three others to get up on the scaffolding and see if you can find anything or anyone. Jerad, you and the rest of the men fan out. If there’s anyone within sight, I want them brought to me immediately.”