Page 40 of Bred By Zyros
“Goddess damn me, you are tight here.”
His hands grip my nipples, testing them until their throbbing and swollen like the rest of me. The lower one's grip my hips, positioning me over the thick base of him so I can grind on his length while he eases further in. My body is tense and loose all at once. His tail eases in and out of my ass while I grind over his knot.
When he snarls, his hand gripping my neck firmly, I explode.
twenty-two
Melody
It seems that while I have kept up my end of the bargain, my mate is stalling on his end. It doesn’t help that I am more often than not impaled on some part of him and screaming like a madwoman as he bites, licks, and tongues me. My nights and days are spent in his coils, and I’veneverfelt a stronger sense of home than I have over the past kentic since our stalemate ended.
Yeah, thirty-one solars of being distracted by alien dick, but tonight I will be strong.
Maybe.
Possibly.
We’ve gone out once to a hunting location, but it was only just right outside the clearing. All the leaves there were fine. While I’ve managed my own food well, there are no more freak outs by the Thryss, except the ones caused by Zyros or whatever they do amongst themselves. Something about it isn’t sitting right with me. Flora mutations don’t just happen out of the blue oneday. There’s always a catalyst, and if the leaves were harmful to the nearly indestructible Thryss, the implications of that are…alarming.
I lean back against my mate, finishing my meal and humming softly to the uncomfortable egg growing in my belly. My bump isn’t overly large but very odd in its shape, more oblong than round, which makes for even more uncomfortable cramps and frequent peeing. The egg is soft, I’ve learned as well. Malleable. I was worried it would crack coming out, but even now I can press and feel its soft shell, which I do covertly because it freaks Zyros out. My poor mate is in a terrible state lately. I have officially been pregnant longer than any female since his birth. The cave walls are now bare, and I can tell his mind is running away with him without somewhere to channel his anxiety. Every step I take is guarded, every sound or groan makes him wince.
I’d rolled over onto my stomach yesterday, and the ridiculous, sweet male had plucked me from the ground like it was made of lava, telling me I would smash our child. “What do you think about Arnichlop for the baby's name?” I ask.
He sighs. “It is whatever you like, my sssaryth.”
Irritation pricks in my chest for mere ontics before it's wiped away. He is protecting himself, bracing for the blow. Like if he dares to plan ahead, to be excited, or name our baby, the hope will destroy him. I keep coming up with increasingly worse names to see if he’ll give any feedback. He doesn’t; for the most part, I let him be. It’s only at night while he thinks I’m sleeping that he lays worrying hands over my stomach, whispering prayers to his goddesses. I don’t tell him how tired I’ve been lately, that my knees ache, or my acid reflux is going to be the end of me. This is far from my first pregnancy but my first with no modern amenities to make it more bearable. My first delivery without access to medical equipment or even an understanding of how it’ll go.
When I suggested giving birth away from Nyssara, he’d flown into a panic. Rambling about the moon and the baby living without the goddesses’ blessings. That if the child passed, it wouldn’t be able to rest in something he called the Ether, their version of the afterlife. It is important to him, so we stay. Although judging by the way he’s been collecting the crystals from his art, I don’t think he means for us to stay long. The future is a taboo subject for us now, so we both avoid it. Content to play it day by day.
I worry my lip, anxiety riding me. There’s something I’m missing, something…off. My mind screams it at me in quiet moments. I’ve been pregnant for just over three kentics now, and already I am seeing signs that the end is nearer than I thought. I stifle a wince as I try to get to my feet. My body is doing well enough but definitely not designed to have an egg inside me. Zyros is on me in an instant, easing me up with all the care in the world. I decide to give him a final chance.
“Zyros, can wepleasego out tomorrow? I need more data to figure out why some—”
“The storms are worsening, my mate. It is not safe, perhaps the next solar.”
I nod, offering him a small smile before heading over to wash my teeth with a tablet, signaling I’m ready for bed. He clocks on immediately, readying himself too. I eye the Thryss napping in the spring's depth below me, hoping Zyros isn’t too angry after I return.
Sneaking out of a giant sleeping snake alien’s coils while he sleeps is among the most nerve-wracking things that I have ever done. I barely dare a single breath as I pad on my tiptoes over mounds of tangled teal and emerald scales. I bite back a groan as I kneel by the pool, shaking my fingers gently in the water to rouse the Thryss. They, of course, pop out like the world is on fire, skittering and warbling, very disgruntled to be woken. I panic, slamming my hand over a little dude's weird, long mouth to silence them, my eyes snapping to the opening of our sleeping chamber. They all follow my lead, everyone staring at the opening like Zyros will bolt out at any second. My heart whooshes in my ears like a percussion instrument as the domtics press on.
When I’m sure we’ve all waited long enough, I slip my hand from its mouth, giving them all a subtle shake of my head. They mimic the movement a little too violently, two of them slamming their heads together, which then pissed them both off. I heave an exasperated sigh as they cock their lumpy heads back, hissing quietly and preparing to lob barbs at each other. My body gives a pang of disapproval as I stretch onto my tiptoes, grabbing down my storage of bad plants. I learned the hard way that the Thryss weren’t content with me just not eating them; they kept stealing my research stores and squirreling them away or drowning them.
I grab a single leaf, offering it to them. They immediately kick up a fuss, an agitated warbling filling the cave. I panic, my eyes glowing wide as I pop the leaf into my mouth and dart for the entrance. That seems to do it, the Thryss carrying on after me, and god, we’re going to get fucking caught. I don’t stop until I’m a good distance into the wood line, the glowvine keeping the jungle from being entirely terrifying. My legs wobble as I come to a stop, taking the spit-covered leaf out of my mouth and showing them, assuring them I didn’t eat it. I’m not sure theyunderstand, as two of the five make the odd quacking sound I’ve learned is their version of a scream.
“Okay, no, stop that. Look, we need to focus, or Zyros is going to wake up soon, and we’re all fucked.” I take a calming breath. “Sorry for cussing at you.”
Only one focuses, but that’s enough. I show them the leaf. “We need to do like before. Find me these.” I motion for them to go, and when they do…this time, I follow. Their little yellow bulbs of light help me keep track of the little dudes. Every now and then, the lights cut off, and they go silent, so I do too, bunkering down and holding my breath.
Is this stupid?
Yes, probably.
Do I also think it’s important? Yes.
If I can get a sample of the soil where it grows, I might be able to understand what is changing the plants. Soon enough, a loud whirring meets my ears, my gaggle of Thryss leading me closer and closer to the sound. Despite everything inside me screaming that approaching a loud, unknown noise in the dark, heavily pregnant on an alien planet where almost everything can kill me, seems ill-advised at best, I follow.
My breath leaves me as all at once as an unnatural light floods into a small clearing, the jarring sight of the Intergalactic Alliance’s symbol coming into view on the side of a large driller. I frown at the machine, wondering what mineral would be so valuable that it was worth disrupting the evolution of a primitive species for. My worst suspicions are only confounded as I watch the runoff from the driller soak into an already heavily saturated ground. The Thryss stop by a patch of my leaves chittering, but I don’t take them. I need what’s underneath. My fingers dig into the wet acidic-smelling dirt, churning it up. One scan fails, making my head give a little throb, but the next one reads as heavily saturated with the same genetic workup as thedangerous leaves. When my eyes rise to the machine again, my chest feels heavy, knowing what this means.
A screech fills the jungle, and my breath lodges in my throat. The Thryss scramble a bit in a panic before coming to me. It’s when a heavy thud sounds right behind me that a scream dislodges that trapped breath. A clawed hand wraps around my mouth, but the smell of rainstorm musk follows it just as thunder cracks across the sky and the clouds open up, pelting us with discolored rain. “Did you truly think I would not follow, Sssaryth?”
