Page 47 of The Monster at the End of This Molt

"Galen was right. You are my better."

Lark shook his head. "We're the same, you and me. We want what's best for our species, but most of all, we want the best for our families."

"I didn't know what family was until we lost those eggs."

"And now?"

"Now I'm too scared to try again."

"Coz and Grindl were scared, too."

I nodded. "They're braver than I am, then."

Lark sighed. "You're still young, and Robin?—"

"Don't say it."

"Robin's an adult now." I felt Lark's gaze boring into me, even though I couldn't meet it. I stared at my desk instead. "He will love you forever, no matter what you decide, but I've seen the way you look at the little ones teaming around the hallways before and after school. You want your own."

I swallowed hard. "What if this is karma?"

"Karma was losing your first clutch, maybe, but the odds have improved since then. We might lose an egg or two these days, but not an entire clutch."

"Can you imagine if we reproduced like humans?" Just this morning, I'd awakened from a nightmare of losing Robin during childbirth.

"We haven't lost an omega to the egg-laying process … ever, that I know of."

"I know, but …" I swallowed hard and squinted my eyes shut to push away the horrible memory. "I can't lose him."

"You won't." Lark stood and walked the few steps between our desks to pat my shoulder. "When you're thinking of worst-case scenarios, consider what's possible, and also what's probable. We don't reproduce like humans, so get that out of your mind."

"Easier said than done." I placed my hand on top of his, still on my shoulder, and squeezed. "I'll try."

"Good." He walked back to his desk. "I'm pretty sure Clem and Ernie have started collecting bets again. My money's on Robin. Always has been."

I laughed. "Money this time? Not chips?"

"You weren't supposed to eat the chips."

Our students began filing back into the room after lunch. I dropped my eyes to my notes for our next lesson, but my head reeled with new possibilities.

I'd been catastrophizing. What if everything went smoothly, instead?

* * *

The weeks passed in a blur. I loved my new routine, but there wasn't much time for reflection.

The only slow part of my day was bedtime. When most folks turned on their sexy charms, Robin and I snuggled instead. We had plenty of time during the day for sex. First thing in the morning, again in the shower, another shower when we returned home, and fooling around on the couch after dinner.

Once we dressed for bed, it was time for me to wind down with another handful of letters from Robin's file. When he'd first presented me with them, I'd been overwhelmed. There were so many, and the very first one had made me tear up with gratitude and regret. It had been from Pinkie, an elderly kobold omega in The Grid, where I'd spent a few years cultivating crops above ground. Pinkie had passed away while I was on Earth, working on the bovinji vaccine. I'd missed my chance to say goodbye, but the letter was his goodbye to me.

"You're a fortunate young omega to be mated to Weld,"the letter had reassured Robin."He was patient and kind to an old omega when other young alphas would have been cold and condescending. My own great-grandchildren want nothing to do with me, but Weld treated me like a respected elder. He is a wonderful example for his generation."

It hadn't been hard to put myself in Pinkie's position, to recognize his loneliness, which was similar to my own. His mate had died young, along with their only beta son. The practice of sending alpha and omega hatchlings to Earth had left him painfully alone, unable to make a connection with his offspring once they returned. He'd tried to connect with his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but they weren't interested in his stories.

He had been full of them, flood tales and drought adventures, forest exploration and hiding under rocks whenever a dragon flew overhead. I'd encouraged him to write them down. Maybe his grandchildren didn't want to hear them now, but he was a living record of all we kobolds had survived.

The final line of the letter had inspired the tears."P.S. Please give Weld this copy of my memoir."

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