Untamed Hunger

by Tiffany Roberts

  Drakkal’s stomach churned. He caught her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “You don’t need to suffer like this, Shay.”

  “No drugs,” she repeated firmly, breathing in and out through her teeth until her body eased again. “I don’t want anything that could hurt my baby. I don’t want to chance it. I won’t chance it. I’ve dealt with pain before…and this pain will be worth it because it’ll result in something good.”

  Samantha placed her hand on Shay’s shoulder and smiled. “It’s your choice, Shay. I can’t wait to meet your daughter. And just think, you could be helping me with my baby someday soon.”

  A short laugh escaped Shay between her deep, even breaths.

  Drakkal leaned forward until Shay was his entire world and stared into her piercing blue eyes. “Whatever you need to do, kiraia. Give me as much of that pain as you must.”

  She nodded, and despite the strain on her features, despite how exhausted she already looked, the strength he’d seen in her from the beginning remained evident in her eyes.

  If the eight-minute hovercar trip to bring Shay home had felt like an eternity, Drakkal had no adequate words to describe the time he spent in that room—he’d learn later that it had been just under twelve hours, but he felt like it stretched beyond the age of the universe itself.

  She squeezed his hand and dug her nails into his flesh; she gasped, moaned, and occasionally cursed—never at anyone in the room—but she did not scream. Drakkal admired her strength even as he felt weaker and more useless than ever. Watching his mate, the female he loved in a way he’d never dreamed possible, go through such agony tore him apart inside. He could do nothing for her but be there, and he couldn’t help feeling that was inadequate.

  But when Shay gave that final push, fueling it with defiance for her exhaustion and for the universe that had forced so much hardship upon her, and the first cry of her little cub hit the air, time stopped.

  Drakkal’s ears perked, and he watched with a strange, fluttering warmth in his chest as Urgand carefully lifted the cub, who looked so tiny and meek in the vorgal’s big, rough hands. Her cries were high and piercing and beautiful. Though she was so small and so young, though she seemed so helpless at a glance, Drakkal could already sense the fighting spirit within her.

  Urgand looked from the cub to Shay. “You terrans cut the birthing tether, don’t you?”

  Shay nodded, her tired, bright eyes meeting Drakkal’s. “The father cuts it.”

  The sensation within Drakkal’s chest intensified and expanded with a swelling of pride. His entire body thrummed with excitement and nervousness, so much so that he felt like he should’ve been trembling with it, but his hands were steady as he accepted the small surgical laser cutter from Urgand and sliced off the birthing tether where the vorgal had indicated. The cutter cauterized the wound, and the tether fell away.

  Samantha stepped forward with a small, soft blanket, which she gently wrapped around the cub. An instant later, the cub was placed on Shay’s chest and cradled in her arms. The cries ceased.

  Shay stared down into that tiny face, her own face full of wonder and love. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she smiled.

  Drakkal positioned himself beside his mate, slipped his left arm around her shoulders, and stared down at her cub. Their cub. As gently as he could, he reached out with his right hand and cradled the back of that delicate little head.

  The cub’s skin was ruddy and smeared with blood and fluids, and thick, dark hair was plastered to the top of her head. She looked nothing like an azheran cub—which only made sense, as terrans didn’t look much like azhera. But she was his. “Sorry, kiraia,” he said softly, “but you might only be second most beautiful now.”

  Shay laughed, glancing up at Drakkal briefly. She brushed the tip of her fingers over the cub’s cheek, nose, and forehead. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “What are you going to name her?” Samantha asked.

  “Leah.” Shay looked up at Drakkal again, her smile widening. “Leah Audrey vor’Kanthar.”

  Hearing that name—vor’Kanthar—from Shay’s lips produced a new sort of pride in Drakkal, one he’d not felt in a long while. Though he’d introduced himself to her as Drakkal vor’Kanthar, he’d left that name behind many years ago, during his time in the slave arenas. He’d thought his capture and enslavement had left him unworthy of the name of his tribe, and he’d never sought to truly reclaim it.

  But his oldest memories came rushing back now, memories from his time as a cub, hazy but powerful, nonetheless. He’d been a part of a tribe, a family, and he’d forgotten how good that felt. He’d forgotten what it meant. Shay had just given that back to him.

  These terrans before him, they were his people. They were his family. They were his. Perhaps he’d not felt any right to the vor’Kanthar name for a long while, but it had always been his. And now it belonged to Shay. Belonged to Leah Audrey.

  A few moments ago, it had seemed his chest couldn’t get any tighter, but it did now, flooded with a fresh surge of pride, of protectiveness, of belonging. Everything he’d given up or been forced to lose in his youth—things he hadn’t known would be so hard to reclaim—he’d found again. A place. A home. A family. But he had so much more now.

  He had his tribe.

  Nineteen

  Shay lay in bed, staring at the sweet, sleeping face of her daughter, who rested on her chest. It was surreal that Leah was here now. After nearly nine months of more struggling, fear, and anxiety than Shay could’ve ever imagined possible, after all the pain of the last day—the worst physical pain she’d ever experienced—she had this baby. This little person. All of it had been worth it. Even now, the memory of that pain was fading, unimportant compared to the love she felt for her daughter.

  She’d spent a few more hours in the infirmary after Leah’s birth. There’d been a little more work for Shay to do; she hadn’t realized that the baby wasn’t the only thing that had to be pushed out, but she’d happily never think about the aftermath again. Sam and Urgand had cleaned Leah, fitted her with the cutest, tiniest diaper, and swaddled her in a soft blanket. Shay had been cleaned up, too, before she and Leah were scanned. To her immense relief, everything came up perfectly normal and healthy. Finally, she’d fed her baby and got some sleep.

  Now she was back in the room she shared with Drakkal, enjoying the comfort and privacy—the former helped by the spectacular pain suppressants running through her system, which Urgand had guaranteed would not affect Leah through Shay’s breastmilk. Leah had fallen asleep again after another feeding and a diaper change, but Shay wasn’t ready for more sleep yet. She was tired, that was for sure—it felt like she’d strained every damned part of her body, right down to her eyeballs—but that was physical exhaustion. Mentally, she just wanted to stare at this beautiful wonder in her arms.

  As she brushed her thumb over Leah’s soft, dark hair, tears stung Shay’s eyes. Had her mother felt this deep, immediate bond, this unconditional, undeniable love for Shay when she was born?

  Shay knew the answer to that. Audrey Collins had felt it, even when Shay was at her most difficult, even though Shay had hurt her time and time again. Her mother had still loved her. Shay blinked, and warm tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Grandma would have loved you, Leah,” she whispered, but even those quiet words were a struggle to get past the tightness in her throat. She sniffled as more tears fell. “I wish I could tell her how sorry I am. How wrong I was to blame her. So, so very wrong.”

  “We all have our regrets, kiraia,” Drakkal murmured from beside her.

  Shay turned her head toward him. He was sprawled on his belly with his arms wrapped around a smushed pillow and his face turned toward her. Though his eyes were half-lidded, they were as bright and alert as ever. His tail swept over her leg slowly.

  Lifting her hand, Shay wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t. I’ve been awake for a while. I liked
hearing you hum while you fed Leah.”

  Shay wrinkled her nose, but her cheeks warmed, and her heart fluttered at his words. “So, you were spying on me?”

  Drakkal made a sound that was half chuckle and half snort, scooted closer to her, and propped himself up. He rubbed his cheek against Shay’s neck and shoulder. “Making up for your mistakes isn’t about what you say, Shay. It’s about what you do. Even if you can’t tell her, you can show her spirit that you’ve changed. That you’ve learned from your mistakes.”

  She smiled, closed her eyes, and tilted her head to allow him more access, reaching up to absently stroke his mane. “I’ve tried to do the right thing. After she died…I tried to leave that life of crime behind. I didn’t want to do it anymore, couldn’t do it anymore, not after…” She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, willing away the stinging in her eyes. “But I couldn’t cut myself off from everyone I used to associate with right away. That makes them real suspicious, you know? And Anthony…he just happened to be there at the right time, at the exact moment that I needed someone, and—”

  Drakkal’s low growl reverberated through her.

  Shay chuckled. “Sorry. Life with him was shit, anyway. I don’t know why I didn’t just walk away, why I didn’t just move on. It’s not like me to put up with that. I guess I was just desperate to not be alone, you know? Somehow, I didn’t even realize at the time that he was dragging me back down into that life I wanted to leave behind.” She sank her fingers deeper into his mane and turned her face toward him until she was able to look into one of his eyes. “Then I found out I was pregnant. And when he told me to just get rid of it, enough was enough. I realized that I was being so, so stupid. I left him, left everything I’d known, and started new. I lived in a shithole of an apartment, worked two jobs that paid under the table and didn’t require background checks because I wanted a better life. I needed a better life…for her. For Leah.

  “Do you think my mom was proud of me then? Because I thought about her. Every day, hoping that she was seeing me, listening, knowing that I was trying to make up for all the fucked-up shit I did.”

  “I think that even when she wasn’t proud, she loved you,” Drakkal replied gently, lifting a hand to cradle her face. “Your efforts to do better wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by her.”

  Shay leaned into his touch. That simple, uncomplicated contact between them was so powerful, so overwhelming, and yet so grounding; she’d never realized how much could be communicated through touch. Having someone in her life again who cared so much was…wonderful. She wasn’t usually the sort to get all mushy and sappy—though she could still use the pregnancy hormones as an excuse for now—but she cherished these quiet, tender moments with Drakkal. She was learning more and more that it was okay to let her guard down with him. It was okay to be vulnerable.

  “What are your regrets?” Shay pulled back to meet his gaze again and moved her hand to the side of his face. “Who was that female azhera, Drak?”

  That spark of fury reignited in her belly as she remembered what the female had called herself—Drakkal’s lover.

  He released a huff through his nostrils and smirked. “Not sure if I should be turned on or afraid when you make that face, kiraia.”

  Shay’s brows furrowed. “What face?”

  “You look like you want to rip something to shreds. Don’t know if it’s a threat…or a promise.”

  She arched a brow and gave his cheek fur a gentle tug. “Guess it’ll depend on what you tell me.”

  “Should I go stand on the other side of the room first?”

  Shay scowled. “You’re not making this any better. Aren’t you supposed to like, I don’t know, calm your mate down when she gets all jealous and stuff? Not rile her. Especially after she just had a baby.”

  The humor on Drakkal’s face faded, giving way to something more solemn—but his eyes maintained their loving light. “Told you she wasn’t important, and she’s not. Not anymore. But…I won’t lie about who she was to me a long, long time ago. You willing to hear me out before you kill me?”

  Sighing, Shay let her head rest on the pillow, keeping face turned toward Drakkal, and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re too big for me to dispose of the body by myself.” She smirked, but it faded quickly. She drew her hand from him to settle it gently upon her sleeping baby. “Won’t be able to help my mad jealousies, though, considering she was your lover and all.”

  His expression darkened. “Lover isn’t the right word. Vanya never loved anything apart from herself. I think… You’ve shared a lot of your past with me, Shay, and I haven’t really told you anything. I need to tell the story from the beginning, so you understand. So I can understand…because I don’t think I’ve had the chance to truly put it all behind me until you came along.”

  “So, start from the beginning. I want to know, Drakkal. The good, the bad, everything. It’s not going to change how I feel about you now.”

  He nodded and lay down, rolling onto his back. His eyes swung up toward the ceiling, but they had a far-off gleam, as though he were looking well beyond the physical. “I was born on Jakora, the azheran homeworld. Big cities everywhere, billions of people…kind like how Sam describes your Earth. And it never sat well with me. My parents were historians, basically, so I spent my youth learning about the culture and traditions of my people, our history, and I felt like we’d strayed so far from what we were. I wanted something different.

  “I met Vanya a year before reaching my majority. She seemed to feel the same as me—she wanted a simpler life, a life more in touch with the roots of our people. We wanted to know what it was like to live off the bounties of nature, to hunt and fish and survive, to make things with our own hands. She was…beautiful, confident, strong. A huntress even then. Everything I thought I wanted.

  “I fell for her. For a long time”—his brows fell low, and his lips turned down in a deep frown—“I even thought I loved her.”

  Shay pressed her lips together and lifted a hand away from Leah, curling it into a tight fist at her side. She turned away from Drakkal to look at the peaceful face of her baby. It calmed some of the violent impulses inside Shay.

  Everyone has a past, Shay. Get over it. Drakkal didn’t go bat shit crazy when you mentioned your ex, who you created a baby with.

  Not that she was angry with Drakkal—she just wanted to knock a few teeth out of that bitch Vanya’s smug face. Shay was sure Drakkal had to suppress similar thoughts when her ex came up.

  “Once we were of age,” Drakkal continued, “we left Jakora. Went to one of the fringe worlds, a frontier planet with abundant wildlife and few people. We stocked up on supplies at one of the few permanent settlements and headed out to find our piece of the wild. Built a house, built a life. And it was good, for what it was. Or at least I told myself it was good. It wasn’t ever easy—we had to work for everything, and there were stretches where we were pretty hungry—but it felt good. Satisfying. At least for me.

  “And I was still taken by Vanya. We had sex. Often. But any time I pushed for more, she pulled away. Guess I was blind to the signs. She didn’t want anything official, didn’t want any real commitment beyond what we already had. And I figured what we had should’ve been enough for me, right? She was living with me, sharing a home and a bed. Wasn’t it greedy to want anything more?

  “She started taking longer trips away from home. I thought she was pushing to find new animals, new hunting spots, or maybe scouting for valuable resources so she could sell the information in town. That was a good way to bolster our supplies sometimes. I was either too dumb or too naïve to realize the truth of what was going on. Figured she just needed space, and I wanted to give her everything she wanted.

  “During the last of her trips, I was outside chopping wood. I looked up and see this big, ugly ship come over the mountains. It looked like some kind of modified military transport. There were some rough ships—and rougher people—who wen
t to planets like that one to lie low and hide from the authorities, but I’d never seen one like that.”

  Drakkal settled his hands over his abdomen, intertwining his fingers. “Thing flies right up to the house, opens a drop ramp, and a dozen slavers hop out with guns and shock staffs. I didn’t give myself time to think. I ran inside, grabbed my rifle, and prepared to defend myself. When they came toward the house, I shot at them.

  “My people…we have this old warrior tradition that everyone on my homeworld liked to point to with pride, but few people are willing to follow anymore. The right thing to do, the honorable thing to do, was to fight to the death in defense of my home. Because what if I failed, and they were still there when Vanya came home? I was ready for it. Can’t say that I was some skilled warrior or that I had much experience fighting, but I was ready.”

  Tension formed a crease between his brows and made the muscles of his jaw briefly bulge. “Turned into a gunfight right there. They were covering each other, forcing me to duck away so they could advance toward the house, but I know I hit at least a couple of them. I was a decent shot, at least. The whole time, they were yelling at me to come out, to surrender. And then I hear the back door open, and I spin around, ready to shoot…only it was Vanya.

  “Stupid me sees her and doesn’t wonder how she managed to show up right at that moment, doesn’t wonder why the slavers hadn’t already surrounded the place…and I guess there was no reason to. I just thought to myself now we have a chance. And she looked me right in the eye and nodded like she was there for me, with me, like she was in it until the end, too.

  “She strode toward me, and I turned around to shoot back at the slavers, actually excited about the fight since she was there. I didn’t hear her activate the stun gun. Didn’t even have a chance to face her again. My whole body seized up, and I fell. Stayed conscious—guess I’m a lot tougher than I am smart—and tried to resist as she pulled out this big set of manacles. She had to hit me with the stun gun twice more before she could get me restrained.