Page 48 of Orange Tundra
She tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling me up for a messy, hungry kiss. “Thank you,” she breathed. “For loving me like this. For not letting go.”
I held her, fierce and gentle all at once. “Never. You’re mine. And if it is three babies, or a hundred, I’ll protect every last one. But tonight—just tonight—you’re my entire world.”
We stayed there, wrapped in the silence, hearts pounding, bodies trembling. The future pressed close, full of danger andhope and impossibility. But in that moment, with her scent on my lips and her trust pulsing between us, I wasn’t afraid. Not for her. Not for our impossible, beautiful family.
Not when I could love her like this.
A shadow fellacross the entrance to our tiny alcove. I looked up, still kneeling between Brynn’s splayed legs, my face and chest glistening with her release.
Nim stood there. He’d approached silently. His gaze swept the scene: Brynn half-naked and glowing with satisfaction, me kneeling before her like a worshipper at her altar, covered in the evidence of her pleasure. A slow, utterly satisfied smirk spread across his face. His nostrils flared slightly, taking in the potent scent of sex and release that saturated the small space. His eyes met mine, gleaming with both amusement and knowing heat.
“Well,” Nim drawled, his voice rich with suppressed laughter and something distinctly possessive. He leaned casually against the archway, his tailtip twitching with barely contained interest. “Looks like someone’s feeling… better.” His gaze lingered appreciatively on Brynn’s flushed face and swollen lips. “However, much as I’d love to… appreciate the view further,” his eyes flicked pointedly to the damp patches on my clothes and skin, then back to the flush on Brynn’s chest, “Onork thinks he’s found something. Something about… multiple conception markers.” His smirk deepened. “Perhaps we should clean up and join him? The sooner we understand what’s growing inside our mate, the better.”
He didn’t move to come closer. He just watched us, radiating smug approval and a clear, unspoken promise:Later.
I looked down at Brynn.She offered me a shaky, sated smile, her hand resting protectively over her belly. First, though, we needed answers. And maybe a change of clothes. For both of us.
21
NIM
The White Triberuins stretched before us like the fossilized remains of a fallen god. Ancient spires twisted skyward, their crystal-veined surfaces catching the morning light and fracturing it into prismatic rainbows that danced across broken stone. I paused at the threshold of what had once been a grand entrance, my analytical mind cataloging every detail while my beast prowled restlessly beneath my skin.
Brynn needed help. Real help. And I was running out of options.
"The defenses are still active," I murmured, studying the intricate patterns carved into the archway. Crystal nodes pulsed with faint energy, creating a barrier that hummed with ancient power. "Pressure plates, energy sensors, probably neural disruptors embedded in the framework."
Sim moved to my right, his gaze tracking mine as we silently assessed the obstacles. Our bond hummed with shared concern—not for the traps, but for our mate, who was growing heavier in my arms with each passing day.
Brynn stirred against my chest, her hand moving instinctively to her belly. The swell was unmistakable now, farmore pronounced than it had been even yesterday. I noticed her doing deep breaths, and I could scent the subtle shift in her body chemistry that spoke of rapid biological changes that wasn't there before. Could others smell her?
Too fast. Everything was happening too fast.
"Put me down," she whispered, her voice strained but determined. "I can walk."
"No." The word came out sharper than I intended, earning me a glare that would have been intimidating if it hadn't been accompanied by a wince of pain. "Your body needs to conserve energy for the baby."
"Babies," she corrected automatically, then caught herself. "Maybe. We still don't know for sure."
The possibility of multiples had been haunting me since our conversation in the cave. Manasty physiology wasn't designed for twin births, let alone the cosmic impossibility of triplets that humans apparently carried with casual frequency. Every instinct I possessed screamed that we needed Crix's expertise, his advanced medical equipment, his understanding of cross-species genetics.
Which was why CG's next words hit me like a physical blow.
"Crix isn't there." The mercenary captain's voice was flat, emotionless, but I caught the flicker of regret in his eyes. "Left the planet three weeks ago on some kind of research mission. Destination unknown, return date uncertain."
The crystal barrier before us suddenly seemed irrelevant. I felt Sim's shock echo through our bond, mirroring my own devastating realization. Our backup plan—the brilliant geneticist who might have answers—was gone.
CG nodded grimly. "My contacts at Orange Lake confirmed it. The lab's been sealed, his research assistants scattered to other projects. Whatever mission took him off-planet, it was important enough to abandon everything here."
I looked at Xy who nodded my way. It's amazing how these two were cooperating. Just shows how Red Guards' ability to adapt in any situation. Instead of capturing all these men, he was cooperating. Though I knew why. The future of Manasties lies with Brynn.
"You're certain?" Sim's voice remained level.
Brynn's hand found mine, squeezing with surprising strength. "We'll figure something else out," she said quietly, though I could hear the fear she was trying to hide.
Elder Onork approached from behind us, his half-blind gaze somehow managing to convey both wisdom and determination. "Perhaps," he said in his creaking voice, "Crix's absence is not the catastrophe we believe it to be."
I turned to him, hope and desperation warring in my chest. "What do you mean?"
