Page 55 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

"I can fetch Lynette and Syseann," Vandor offered.

"I'll be fine. These aren't really contractions, they're just some cramps," I assured him, trying to convince myself.

When I had to go pee later, Vandor helped me to squat over the bucket we kept in the tent for exactly this purpose, and I clung heavily to his arm, slightly embarrassed about needing help with this small task, but it seemed my stomach had expanded to double its size over the last day or so.

"It's probably because of the stew." I tried to laugh it off, but Vandor's expression didn't change. Concern was written all over his features.

"Come, let's get some rest."

He took me back to the bed and closed the bucket before he joined me. "Lynette and Syseann could stay with us," he offered. "The storm might get so bad we can't get them to help us."

"I've birthed horses. We'll be fine," I assured him, but again failed to amuse him.

Exhaustion finally took over and we fell asleep, but I didn't know for how long, because it felt like soon after, I was awakened by a stabbing pain. After a while I fell back into a deep slumber, until I was awakened again.

At some point, I don't know when, I woke to the sides of the tents whipping and the howling of the wind. Vandor was stoking the fire in the brazier, and I felt the air stirring inside despite the thickness of the leather.

"Vandor?"

"It's alright," he assured me. "The tent will hold."

A painful contraction hit me so hard it robbed me of my breath and this time there was no denying it. The baby was coming.

"Vandor, I think your son wants to see you," I pressed out between clenched teeth.

"Now?" His eyes widened, and I nodded.

"I'll go fetch the kallinies." He rose and moved to the flap to exit, sliding the trunks out of the way first.

"Hurry," I clenched my teeth as a merciless pain nearly robbed me of my breath.

As soon as Vandor began to open the threads holding the flap in place, it began to flutter so hard, it slapped him in the face. Icy air found its way immediately in and the flames in the brazier danced and hissed and nearly extinguished.

Vandor reknotted the leather strips, shaking his head and moving the trunks back in place.

"Looks like it's just you and me, czira." His face was set in determination, but his smile faltered.

"Easy," I swallowed. "No biggie. I helped birth plenty of horses." But even to me, my words sounded weak.

Hourslater,Iheldmy son, Murtagh, in one arm and my exhausted czira in the other.

It had been an ordeal, and not an easy one, but we made it. Mostly because of my strong, brave czira, who had walked me through every step.

Contrary to her, I had never been part of a birth, any birth. Thyres liked to ride horses, not breed them. And as a warlord, I had never been present when any other animal gave birth. I had other things to learn.

The storm had never lessened, which was why we called our son Murtagh, which translated into storm born. He was healthy and already strong as he proved when he gripped my finger right after he was born, and I was cleaning him per Damaris's instructions.

Now Damaris was finally asleep, cuddled against my one side, while I held Murtagh on the other, torn between looking at him and Damaris.

Never had I felt such overwhelming love before as I did then. For my brave czira and my son.

Outside, the storm still howled without showing any sign of letting up, but in here, we were snug and warm. I filled the brazier with plenty of wood before I joined my family in the bed, and now I could just bask in their presence.

I didn't even know if it was day or night. There was no indication from outside, and I had lost all count in here. It didn't matter though. I felt wide awake and ready to take on an army—two if I had to. For Damaris and Murtagh, I would do anything.

At some point, I had to extract myself from Damaris and Murtagh to prepare food and hot tea, certain that my czira would wake up soon and be famished.

Sure enough, the aroma of the brewing stew awakened her not much later. Her eyelids fluttered adoringly as she opened them. "Vandor?"

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