Chapter Twenty-Three Epilogue

Raisa

I can’t believe it’s been a month since the night of the fire, the night I became Durga’s soulbound mate. We’ve done little other than work, eat, and make love since then.

A few days ago, Durga came home and told me his friends were giving him a hard time about not being invited over to celebrate our mating, so we’ve pulled together a party at the fire station.

The kitchen here at the station is large, and Marissa and some of the guys helped us cook. Durga was serious when he said orc males learn how to cook as a mating skill. There isn’t a male among them who can’t cook like he was born in the kitchen.

Not only the firefighters and human women have been invited, but we put up posters on telephone poles and invited the entire neighborhood.

“You sure we’ll have enough food?”

“There’s always enough food. If not, people take less on their plates, or go home and come back with more. Quit stressing, my love. It will be fine.”

Fine. Speaking of fine, is he not the most handsome man on the planet? He’s wearing jeans and a black tee that stretches so tightly across his wide chest the fibers are straining. I have no complaints.

Except for a few trips to the kitchen to get more platters of food, Durga and I don’t step more than a foot away from each other all afternoon. We accept the well-wishes of Others of every species.

We receive few presents, which is a good thing. We already combined two households into his apartment. What more could we possibly need? He tells me it’s the way of the Others. Most species were nomadic. Presents just represented more to carry or leave behind. What we do receive is the heartfelt affection of everyone who crosses our path. It feels better than junk that will break.

“This one will be a male.” Time seems to stand still as everything around me slows and quiets. Not only do I know who is talking, but I know exactly what Kragen is talking about.

“What?” By Durga’s tone, I think he knows what the elder wolven means, too. He just wants to hear it again.

“You two have been busy. This is good because three more are coming.”

My palm flies to my belly, which is the same shape and size it’s been for years.

“It’s the size of a partigen seed.” When he realizes neither Durga nor I have any idea how big a partigen seed is, he adds, “Too tiny to feel or see. But it’s healthy.”

“Thank you, grandfather,” Durga and I say at the same time.

“I knew you two would be very good together. Look how happy you are.”

Happy? I’m now terrified. Pictures of a thousand things that can go wrong flood my mind until Durga steps closer and tucks me against his side. His purr is so loud half the party almost gets whiplash looking in our direction.

“Yes, very happy.”

The moment my mate says that, well, maybe the purring helps, I calm down and picture the little orcling we’re going to have. There aren’t many hybrid orc/humans on Earth, but they all look exactly like orcs. It has something to do with dominant and recessive genes. I’m an artist, not a doctor, but the idea of having little green, pointy-eared babies thrills me. Except for having tusks poke me from the inside.

“Their tusks don’t grow in until they’ve finished breastfeeding,” Durga adds as though he read my mind.

“Very good to know, my love.”

“Thanks, grandfather,” I tell Kragen. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll see a doctor right away.”

“All is fine. You don’t need to worry, but since you will, go see a doctor to quiet your fears. Nice party.” He saunters off as though what he just did wasn’t extraordinary.

Durga places his hand on my belly, his huge palm almost covering it completely.

He’s so excited I can feel it pulsing off of him in waves.

“An orcling, my love.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“As often as we have sex, I’m not surprised.”

“Except that I have an implant.”

He looks genuinely surprised. “I assumed Marissa would tell you orc seed does things to human females’ bodies. Your human remedies don’t always work.”

I want to give his arm a little punch, especially since he’s smirking right now, so proud of his exceptional swimmers. But instead, I jump into his arms and he twirls me, despite the crowd.

I laugh one of those deep, throaty, happy laughs I’ve seldom been able to accomplish before I moved into the Zone.

When he sets me down, our gazes stay connected.

“You make me so happy, Durga.”

“And you make me the luckiest male—and Commander—in the world.”