Page 60 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

I swallow and nod.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay, then it is a safe assumption that your body is also willing and able to bear the fruit of such union.”

“Union?” I ask, feeling lost.

“That the pregnancy would be carried to term and not be… bad,” she says clearly changing the way she ends the sentence.

I don’t know what word or words she was going to say but I’m grateful to her for not saying them. I’m already feeling weak kneed and faint.

“Oh, good,” I say, not feeling much in the way of actual relief.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uhm, sure?”

“How… different are they? Do they have multiple? Are they shaped differently? Bigger? Smaller? I’m sorry, but I’ve been really curious about it. Purely from a scientific perspective, you see. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk to the girl who’s mated with one of them.”

“Uhm, it’s quite… normal, I guess. Bigger than most humans but not ridiculous or anything. I assume they’re not all the same, like a human. Khiara has… uh… one. No… ridges like the Zmaj.”

She looks as if she’s cataloging every word I say with great care. Which makes me feel even more awkward. Of course, I’ve talked with the girls about dicks and especially about the ones one of us was fucking, but that was fun and giggles. This is cold and clinical and awkward.

“I’m sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable. I don’t mean to, it’s curiosity. Like I said, the only stupid question and all.” I smile and nod but can’t deny that I’m glad this conversation is coming to an end. “Do you want to meet the new baby?”

“Huh?” I ask, my head spinning at the sudden change in direction.

“The baby? I’m sure Rosalind won’t mind. She’s a very proud momma, as she should be.”

“Uh, yes? If you’re sure it’s okay,” I say.

The image of Rosalind with her legs spread, face, and pussy both contorting to completely impossible and unnatural shapes as she pushed the new life out is front and foremost in my head. I try to not see it before I walk through the door, because what could possibly be more awkward than that?

“I’m sure,” Addison says, turning to the door and lifting the leather without further hesitation.

The smell of the room fills my senses first. I’ve never smelt anything like it. It’s not unpleasant, not in the slightest. The fearful memory washes away as I inhale deeply. The scent is fresh and new, and for some reason it makes me feel hopeful. As if a beautiful future is opening up ahead of me with a bright shining path that can only lead to something better.

I hesitate just inside the door; Rosalind is propped up on the bed with a bundle in her arms that must be the baby, but I can’t see anything of the newborn. Visidion is at her side, leaning in close and whispering to the child.

Tsi’tel, the healer, is across the room working on something, but he is peripheral to the main show of the loving couple. The glow on Rosalind’s face fills the space around her. The room is lit with torches like most of the compound. Their orange and yellow flickering casts her in a light that washes away all memories of what she was doing moments ago.

She is beautiful. The way her eyes sparkle looking down at her baby. There are no signs of her age. The lines on her face are invisible. The gray at her temples becomes more of a beauty mark than anything else.

My heartrate is high, but it also feels as if I’m frozen in place, standing here barely inside the door. I don’t want to break this moment. It’s too perfect.

“You want to meet him?” Rosalind asks.

She doesn’t look away and I wasn’t sure she knew I was here, but her words are addressed to me. I take a step forward and clear my throat.

“May I?” I ask, surprised by the trembling in my voice.

Rosalind looks up for the first time. She smiles and makes a bobbing motion with her head. I approach the bed with a growing sense of trepidation yet hope. It’s weird and doesn’t make sense, but this is the first time in my life I’ve been near a brand-new baby. A new life. One that didn’t exist, outside her belly at least, only a few minutes before.

Swaddled tightly in a blanket, all I can see is the side of the baby’s face. It’s nestled to Rosalind’s breast, hiding most of the uncovered skin, but what I see makes my breath catch and my heart skip.

One brilliantly green eye is wide open, which I didn’t think was the case with newborns, and looking around even as it suckles. The flickering light dances off the itty bitty, tiny scales that cover its cheeks. It has a shock of dark hair but on the temple, in the same place as its mother’s gray, is a bright, pure white patch.

It seems to lock its eye on me and I would swear there is a questioning look, as if it's wondering who I am. There is a popping sound as it breaks away from her breast and turns to look at me. The face of the baby is even more breathtaking.

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