Page 46 of Bred By Fafnir

I don’t, taking a step toward her and fuck the desperation shows in my voice. “Humans call it PTSD, but it goes by many names for many species. All can experience it, it's treatable. With the right doctor and therapy, it can vastly improve the quality of life for the person suffering. We think it destabilizes the berserker in your males, which is why it affects them so heavily.”

“Youthink. There is no cure for war madness!” She booms, making me flinch, and the males behind me step forward, snarling.

She watches them closely, and I know what she sees there. Control. Golden untouched eyes.

“Dr. Univos is sure of it, but he needs more Bhaurnul males to test—"

She shakes her head, flustered. “No.”

“You need to listen; we can save people. We can stop the hunts. No more males lost to wandering.”

“I said no. It is impossible. I will not have my people be given false hope because some off world doctor thinks he can solve an issue that has decimated our numbers for generations!”

My entire body seems to bottom out, panic gnawing at my chest as I spin to my mate. “Help me Fafnir, she’s not listening!”

The look he gives me makes my heart drop to the floor. Sympathy, longing, and on Ogarrex… bitter resignation.

No.

No!

I storm to her, my hand gripping her wrist to keep her from leaving. “He is your son, and I am telling you I desire a better fate for mine!” My eyes widen a sharp, twisting pain blooms in my gut. I stagger, Helgoid’s cold, aged hands catching me as I gasp.

Oh god.

Not now.

Not fucking now.

Fafnir is at my back, trying to pull me away, but I shake him off. I don’t need his fretting right now. I’m panting as I regain my composure. “If there is even a chance, is it not their right to know? To choose for themselves?”

“Do you think others have not tried, Lenora? That I did not try to save my love from wandering, that I have not led my authority and reasons to be questioned in order to give more time to my son?”

“This can work. Ask either of them, they’re proof it can work! It may not be a cure, but it is a chance!”

“You must stop this, human you are—"

A ragged gasp tears from my throat as a wetness floods between my legs, running down them onto the floor.

My water.

My fucking water just broke.

My mate is there in a second, bellowing to Ogarrex to call for the healer and ensure the space shuttle is ready should we have to go off world quickly. I swat him, trying to get loose from his hold. “Let me go, I can’t do this yet! She’s not listening Fafnir!”

“Hush my mate, it will be—"

“If you tell me it will be fine, I will shear your antlers in your sleep!”

He gives me a panicked but endearing smile. How can he manage it right now? He’s so strong, so much stronger than me. I turn and struggle in his arms until I’m facing his mother again, tears budding in my eyes, but not the sad kind. I’m angry, so angry. “I will not have this baby until you agree to hold counsel with the other elders!”

She offers me an amused smile, her long animal hide dress dragging on the ground as she places both her hands on my face. It’s such a maternal gesture that my lip wobbles. “You do not have a choice.”

Fafnir laughs, but it’s a breathless sound. He keeps looking around, panicked, like there’s something more he should be doing. “I wouldn’t bet against her.” Helgoid notices, looking at him, listening to his laughter as if it’s a divine being that just stepped into the room with us. Like it’s the workings of a miracle, perhaps it is, but not the type given by gods. It’s the kind of miracle born from suffering, hope, and fucking work. “I am well within my mind. We have stores of data and proof of our claims. We have help.” I watch as he passes her a copied chip containing everything we’ve compiled so far. Files and files of video data, research, his, Ogarrex’s, and the doctor's testimony. I watch as she takes it, tucking it into the pocket of her dress.

“I might not have a choice, but you do.” I gasp through the next contraction.

The healer rushes in at that with Elat and a panicked wealth of Bhaurnuls on their heels.

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