Page 6 of Phoenix Chosen 3

Tyler looks at me. “What is happening, Kalistratos?” he says.

I put my hand on his. “Tyler, you’re going to love this.”

3

TYLER

I, in fact, did not love this.

A fucking egg?!

In hindsight, it should’ve been obvious, but just the idea of being pregnant had already been more than enough for me to chew on. Though, weirdly, pushing out an egg is somehow easier to wrap my head around than popping out a live, wriggling baby.

But still.

A fucking egg?!

Zona and the walking, talking cat sibling helpers have cobbled together a nest of grass and straw in the center of the room, and I’m now perched precariously over it on a low bench in the shape of a half circle. Like the chair from earlier, it has handles that I’m gripping onto with all of my might. I’m too deep in the thick of it to be embarrassed about how exposed I am. Kona is kneeling right in front of me, calmly guiding me through the contractions. She has a full view of my junk and everything else, and Xanthe and Xanthos are still doing some bizarreritualistic shit with incense, flowers and a pillar of translucent marble that looks suspiciously like one of those gemstone dildos you’d find on Etsy, but I’m honestly just thankful to have all of them. It really would’ve been a nightmare had this happened deep in some forest or, God forbid, in the middle of some filthy Athenosian back alley.

Maybe it’s only been a few hours, maybe even less, but it feels like I’ve been struggling for days. The room is thick with incense smoke. Maybe it’s helping. Or maybe I’m just at that level where all the endorphins have kicked in and gotten me high off my ass. Everything is a blur of white-hot pain.

Zona tells me to push. I push as hard as I can. I’m struggling. I feel like I’m fighting a battle against a concrete wall—just battering myself against it, bloodying myself while making only the tiniest, most useless scratches into the stone.

When I look up, I see her talking quietly to Kalistratos and the twins. Kalistratos nods at whatever she’s saying, and the twins quietly exit the room.

Zona returns to me. “Tyler, we will try a different approach. One that I believe will help with your tension.”

I grin exhaustedly at her. “Tense? Who’s tense?”

She and Kalistratos help me down from the bench and sit me down in the nest. She brings a tray with a small bowl filled with fragrant oil and sets it down beside me.

“Kalistratos will attend to you,” she tells me with a smile, and leaves the room.

“All you need to do is breathe,” Kalistratos says, kneeling behind me. “I know it hurts. Can you breathe with me?”

I nod. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. I know you’re trying to help me.”

“Yes, and if you need to shout, then shout. Trust me, I can handle that. May I rub your shoulders?”

Earlier, the thought of being touched would probably set me off. There was just so much happening, I couldn’t fucking deal with it. Now that it’s just us, the dim, hazy room with its pagan ritual candles and incense actually feels somewhat calming. Maybe even a little sensual. I take a deep breath. I let it out.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think so. Just, gently, okay?”

He rests his palms against my bare shoulders, and I can feel they’re coated in a warming oil. He rubs the oil into my skin and massages down to my lower back, where he slowly draws his thumbs down the sides of my spine to the base of my hips. Inhale, exhale.

“Can you do that again?” I say.

He returns to the top and rolls his fingers back down along my back. I recline against him, easing into the pressure of his touch, and immediately there’s a sense of relief. The pain is still there, but I’m relaxing some, and as my breaths synchronize with his, I feel as though our minds are joining the same space. Suddenly, the need to have his lips on mine overwhelms me. I tell him so, and he gathers up the soft thatch grass into a pillow for me to lie against. He kneels by my side and brushes the matted hair out away from my forehead.

“Come on and kiss me already, dammit,” I say.

His lips are a respite from the chaos and stress, and the familiar, comforting scent of his musk fills my lungs on my next inhale. I can still smell the pollen on his skin from the field of wildflowers we’d romped around in on our return to Circeana. Jesus, that was just a few hours ago, wasn’t it?

Kalistratos rubs the oil across my chest and holds his palm in the center of my pecs, pacing my breath by lifting his hand as I breathe in and gently pushing down as I exhale. I watch his eyes and try to focus on him. I feel my nipples stiffen as the warming tingle of the oil soaks into my skin. A pained whimper barely leaves my lips before he kisses me again. So many sensations. Everything is heightened, and the feeling of his fingers playing against my nipples is just as strong as the contractions rippling through my body. It’s an intense mixture of pain and arousal, and I suddenly realize I’m getting hard. Holy shit.

“Continue?” Kalistratos asks me.

I can’t make words right now, so I just nod furiously.

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