Page 42 of Bred By Fafnir

I have come too far to kill another.

To lose my chance to meet my son.

To lose the few remaining weeks I have with my mate.

The red cools in my vision, but I’m left with a heavy chest as I stare at him. “You are war mad.”

“Not maddened, notyet,” He responds, glancing at the doctor who watches us with keen interest. “What is this?”

I open my mouth to tell him something unkind before my mate’s little fist connects roughly with my back, feeling no more painful than a tap. “My apologies, Sha'vria.” I offer, releasing her. She huffsterribly affronted, adjusting her dress. Again, I am taken aback by how stunning she is, swollen with our kit.

The doctor chimes in then. “Perhaps today's visit should be cut short if you are agreeable, Fafnir. It seems you know someone else in need. Your insight could be valuable to him. He could be helpful in my research as well. The more the merrier, truly.”

Yes, theresearch, why he offered to take us on without cost. I am a well-off male, but to employ a Kalzait doctor… there are not enough credits on this planet to have afforded that.

Ogarrex eyes the doctor with no small amount of suspicion before looking at my irritated mate, for what I’m unsure, but whatever look she gives him makes him straighten from his guard position and offer me a curt nod.

It is like looking in a less attractive mirror, the pride warring with desperation and shame. He comes around quicker than I do to the idea of hope. That our brains can be strengthened, that we can survive what has taken so many. I’m not sure if that makes him better or worse for it.

twenty-seven

Lenora

My back aches as I pace outside the house, Val watching me lazily from his spot on the ground in front. The large beast swapping between watching the little Zylari I’ve named Lily and glaring balefully at Ogarrex, where he runs through training exercises down the field. He’s not so much aguardanymore, more like a reluctant friend and test subject who is forced to be here. My giant, on the other hand, is dangerously close to being demoted toreluctant friendas well.

I’m dressed and ready to go, my sides straining and back spasming every five seconds. We started fighting ten minutes ago, so now I’ll have to go back in to pee again before we leave. The toilet is too high and it’s a pain in the fucking ass to get up on now. Like most everything.

I huff, stalking back over to him. My large, heavy stomach hanging lower than normal between us as I jab his chest with my finger. “Iam going, and if you try to stop me, I’ll scream so loud it’ll bring the Halthara here instead.”

“Lenora, you cannot ride Valoryx in your state, and we do not have—"

“Yes, we do! We have enough! With the doctor’s testimony, we have totry. We’re running out of time Fafnir, why can you not understand that?” Each pull of my lungs takes three times longer to complete, and if I’m being honest, which I am not, I agree… I highly doubt even mounting the super-sized lion lizard in my current state. Even with my stomach supported by taping, I am miserable and…huge.

Too huge.

Turns out Bhaurnul babies are every bit as big as you’d think they’d be. If I hadn’t seen evidence that this was done before, I wouldn’t believe it.

“They will not listen. You are too far along to argue and—"

“They will listen though, Fafnir, they will or I-I’ll make them! I’ll take your spear and jab them in the ankles until they see reason if I have to!”

I’m yelling now.

Admittedly, I’m not sure why my brain decided today of all days was the one to pick a fight and force my way to Helgoid and tell her everything we’ve done over the last eleven months. Today is the only day, though. I know that innately, or at least my pregnancy hormones finally decided making me come and feeding me wasn’t enough to keep me patient and lazy today.

My body feels like a fucking wasteland. Morning sickness is supposed to be a first trimester thing. I’m in my millionth andstillI vomit. My ankles are swollen, my skin is shit and I’ve never felt less glow-y in my life.

Fafnir still stares at me like I’m a goddess reborn.

That mostly makes me happy, but sometimes pisses me off too.

He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t want us.

Tears well in my eyes, and I know the concept is ridiculous. I’m literally hisfated mate. Agiftgiven to him by his gods. But right now, my wayward hormones don’t care.

Right now, I’m mad, scared, and I feel ugly.

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