Page 24 of Drowned By the Dreadnought

“It’s just for a few minutes. We’ll be right back,” I promise.

She leans her head against me with a sigh.

I make my way through both sealed doors, balancing her slight weight with ease, but descend the ladderwell slower than usual, refusing to put such precious cargo in danger. I skirt around the couch and open the outer door to our den without stopping to put on shoes. After a short walk down the hall, I step into the conference room and stop at the head of the table.

The four females on the far side of the room stand so fast their chairs swivel back and forth with little squeaks. Authentic to the ship, the metal table and chairs remain intact, since looting the bolted-down furniture was too difficult before I took command.

Morwenna stares at the other women with wide eyes for long, silent moments before swinging her gaze up to mine. I nod toward the female on the left.

She gives a slight bow, revealing the mating mark high on her throat, before introducing herself.

“Hi, I’m Stash, Cooper’s mate.”

At Morwenna’s confusion, I say, “Cooper is my second in command.”

The taller, stockier beta woman in the middle nods her head in greeting.

“I’m Carrie. If Traiden or Caymen give you trouble, tell me and I’ll smack ‘em back to their godforsaken mother.”

“Traiden and Caymen oversee decks three through six,” I say.

Morwenna blinks.

The third woman, an older beta with stooped shoulders and greying hair, crosses her arms in lieu of a bow.

“I’m Olma. I ain’t got no man and I ain’t never will. They’re too much trouble, so I just clean up their messes. Seems like you’re putting me right to work, ain’t you? Gonna be real messy in a few months, eh?”

Morwenna doesn’t react. I pull her closer.

“You can make other friends, but these are the females I trust the most, so I’d like you to get to know them first,” I say.

She blinks. Studies the three women. Blinks again.

Tears fill her eyes. She pulls the blanket over her head and curls against me as she breaks down into sobs. I growl and turn toward the door.

Olma chuckles. Her words follow me down the hall, but I doubt my little mouse hears her through her crying.

“New mothers ain’t got no chill. She’s too sweet for the likes of him, but I like the way she has him wrapped around her little finger, though, yeah?”

Carrie and Stash murmur their agreement. I shut the outer door to our den and clear the distance between my omega and our nest. When I pull the filthy blankets over us, her crying lessens. She clings to my chest and crawls on top of me as I settle onto my back.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop crying. Thank you, Russt. I… just… thank you,” she says as she wipes her face on my shirt.

With a shuddering sigh, she curls her fingers under my collar.

“I’m hungry.”

She wriggles her hips. My cock hardens. Her stomach rumbles and she blushes. I smile and rub her back. Anger twists her face and she whacks my arm, but freezes in alarm.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I thought my heat broke, but I’m still so…”

Frustrated tears fill her eyes.

I purr and tilt her face up to mine with my knuckle.

“It’s okay, little mouse. You’re carrying our first offspring, so you’re allowed to be volatile.”

For a moment, she stares at me with hazed eyes, but when my meaning sinks in, her pupils shrink and her jaw drops.

---