Chapter 18

Four months later . . .

Knuckling my fist into my lower back, I waddle down the hall of my little apartment and sigh. My shift today at the orphanage was a long one. One of the other human women, Pacey, stayed home sick, and so I had both nurse duties and classroom duties.

I don't mind filling in where I'm needed though. And Pacey's pregnant with a winged baby, too, so we talk often about our worries about our upcoming births. Pacey's mate, Ademho, is a huge, golden man with wings, though he can't fly due to an old injury. He's so sweet with her, it makes my heart hurt to watch them together.

I'm not often lonely here. I'm too busy for that. But sometimes, amid all of the mated pairings around me, I'm very aware I'm pregnant and alone. In outer space.

I'm on Lustra, a relatively new colony at the far end of the Kral solar system. It was terraformed as an agrarian world a few decades ago, and its vast continents are covered in cultivated fields and orchards. The cities are small but growing fast as more and more colonists move here.

And Pacey and I aren't the only human women. There's a whole community of us, all with different crazy stories of abductions and space travel and rescues. Heza found out about it when Zuko brought me back to her after I fled Aezok's lab.

I sigh again as I slip into the bathroom, strip, and climb into the tub. Little One is really pressing on my spine lately, probably starting to get squished, even though my Csevadian doctor keeps telling me I have months until I give birth.

After we found a surgeon to remove the kill-switch tracker, Heza told me she'd inquired among her contacts, and a Kral woman, Helle, responded to tell her about this colony. Another man, Lir, came to the fishing village with my new fake ID and smuggled me off the planet on his ship. And then his wife, Kylie, got me the nursing job at the orphanage.

The past few months have been a blur of new faces, new experiences. I talk to Heza every few days to update her on my life, and sometimes I can't believe the words coming out of my mouth. I've ridden in a flying car. The sky on this planet is pink.

I stroke a hand down my round stomach, feeling the baby move under my skin. His wing buds are definitely going to turn into full wings. And his brain is normal. The last medical scan I had confirmed it's growing within expected Kral parameters.

Craning my neck, I whimper as the tenseness releases from my shoulders. I can't make the bathwater too hot, it's bad for the baby, but even this little bit of warmth is amazing against my lower back.

I always wanted kids one day. But I never could have imagined the circumstances that led me to this point. It's surreal, but also wonderful. And every day I'm growing more attached to this little person inside of me. This pregnancy and the idea of my winged boy are the brightest spots in my life.

And I don't think it's just the hormones making me feel that way.

Dropping my head to the edge of the tub, I will the warm water to ease more of my aches and pains. I'm only going to get larger.

As I soak, I replay an interaction I witnessed today between Orix, a Kral male, and his human mate, Olivia. He'd been taking pictures of us—me, Kylie, and Olivia—to send to his mom. He and Lir have the same mom, Helle, the woman who first told me about Lustra. She travels around the universe with Lir, rescuing orphans and helping him build his art career. Total badass. I adore her.

And when Orix finished with the pictures, he pulled Olivia to the side and showed her his screen, whispering in her ear. I'd been close enough to catch the gist of the whispers, something about taking the camera home to take some different photos later, and Olivia's bright red blush cemented my idea of the steaminess level of his imaginings. They have a third mate, Emmen, whom I don't see that often. He's a very busy Csevadian scientist.

Orix is large and muscled, with sharp tusks and crimson skin. And, aside from the lack of horns, he looks enough like Viz'en that sometimes, when I see him, it's like a punch to my sternum.

He picked Olivia up and kissed her flushed cheek, then her lips, and for a long moment, I watched them. Their embrace was so passionate; it was like time stopped around them. Still, now, I can't interpret the feelings churning inside of me at the memory of it.

My hand absently strokes the skin of my upper thighs. For a brief moment, I imagine different hands on me. Thick, red fingers tipped with black claws.

I shiver. It's not that I want Orix. He's very, very mated to Olivia. And it's not that I'm horny, although maybe I am, a little. Or a lot. Probably the pregnancy hormones, or the fact that I finally feel healthy and safe again. Like a normal woman.

Or maybe I'm allowed to miss something that never had a chance.

In my warm tub, I think of Viz'en, wondering what he's doing with his life. I hope he made it home okay. I frown, absently stroking my skin again. I haven't forgiven him for tying me to the tree, but it was such a crazy set of circumstances, it's almost like a fever dream when I try to remember the details of our time in the jungle.

Maybe I should be trying to find him. To tell him about the baby. I curl protectively over my stomach, the water sloshing as I sit up. But I can't risk it. Could he take the baby away from me? Technically, I'm still an illegal human. If he came at me with kidnapping accusations, could I be forced to give up the baby when I go to jail?

No, better to leave him be. Little One and I will be fine here. There are a lot of mixed species children around. He'll fit right in. I have a great job nursing the kids at the orphanage, doling out bandages for scraped knees and ice packs for bonked heads. And I'm growing a solid group of friendships with my fellow human women.

It's enough for me.

IT'Sonly a week later, however, when everything changes. I should have known better than to feel safe, right? I guess I forgot the black deeds on my soul awaiting their reckoning.

I'm once again in my bath—got to love the alien tech that allows me to choose scent, bubble quantity, and heat level with just a few buttons—when someone knocks on my front door.

I thrash in the tub, startled, before my mind interprets the sound. No one's visited me at home before. I've been to Pacey's house, and to Olivia's high-rise condo, but none of the girls have ever come here.

As I sluice the warm water from my limbs, step into the full-body dryer, and tug on a soft robe, my mind worries over the knock. Is someone injured? No one pinged my comm. But I've been embraced by the human women of Lustra as a fully trained ER nurse, and sometimes I get called when the clinic's medical unit or its Csevadian doctor need help interpreting human physiology. Like one time, Ademho comm'd me because Pacey had a migraine and he panicked and didn't believe her that she just wanted a dark room and some painkillers.

I pad to the door, for a moment wondering why I never took Orix up on the offer to put cameras in my hallway. I bite my lip, acknowledging I didn't want to be a bother or a burden. Trauma-based hyper independence, anyone?

And now I don't know who's knocking on my door.

I'm not worried, I tell myself. The violent crime rate in this colony is ridiculously low, and I'm in a locked complex. It's most likely a neighbor offering up some of their dinner. The Vetrixin woman down the hall is elderly and lonely, and she likes to give me sweets to fatten me up for the birth.

But when I open the door, shock freezes me in place. As if conjured by my recent thoughts, Viz'en is there in the hall, his large form looming over me. My heart stops beating. With the shadows hiding his face, he's the embodiment of every fear dogging me for the past four months. He's my walking nemesis. My righteous punisher.

My mouth falls open, but I can't speak. My skin turns cold.

His head drops, his eyes on my protruding stomach.

Immediate panic sparks my pulse back to life, and I recoil. He's going to take the baby away from me. He can't know the baby is his. He'll destroy everything.

My breath leaves my lungs in a desperate whoosh even as I moan, "Nooooo." I drop to my knees in the entryway, my vision blurring. I wait for his hands to grab me, or for heavy-booted police officers to leap into view.

"Please," I whimper.

Instead, through hazy eyes, I watch him kneel.

His face is too close to me, his horns inches from my eyeballs, and I flinch, falling on my rear to crabwalk backward. The pressure in my chest is like a vise, squeezing my lungs. Black spots pop into my vision.

"Be careful," he barks.

I forgot how large he is. In the narrow entryway, he dwarfs me, even kneeling. He's healthier than the last time I saw him, my brain quantifies absently, with ruddy skin and solid muscles. The wounds on his jaw are healed, any resultant scars covered by a deep growth of dark, scruffy facial hair.

He holds his hands out, palms up, and I stare at them in disbelief. He can't be expecting me to touch him. The last solid memory I have of our time together is him tying me to a tree and leaving me to die.

Shaking my head, I scoot farther away, then wince as a Braxton-Hicks contraction stabs me in the lower stomach. I moved too fast. I know better than that.

Viz'en is suddenly on top of me, scooping me into the air, and a startled scream escapes. I want to struggle, to get away from his solid hold, but that will only hurt me, not him. Instead, I stay rigid, my fists clenched and my heart pounding. The contraction eases, and I can't restrain my sigh of relief. Damn, those sting.

Before I can demand he put me down, Viz'en drops his face to my nape and inhales a deep breath. I freeze again. Is he . . . sniffing me?

"You smell like—" He stops before he finishes his statement.

I stare at his face, so close to mine, and I'm reminded abruptly of the first time I saw him in Aezok's lab. So alive. So ferally handsome. My brow furrows. What is happening to me right now? This man is my enemy.

He breaks our eye contact and stands, still holding me in his arms.

My thoughts swirl as he carries me to the low couch. He sets me gently on it, fluffing the cushion behind my back. I can't help but sigh as I inhale the familiar, luscious scent of smoky campfires and roasting coffee. He touches my knee briefly, his fingertips like the pressure of a butterfly landing on my skin.

I flush and whisper, "What is happening right now?"

Viz'en takes the chair across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He frowns, taking me in, and I resist the urge to squirm.

"I've been looking for you," he says slowly. "Aezok is dead."

Like he pointed a gun at me, my hands fly into the air before I can stop them. "I didn't kill him!"

I blink rapidly and lower my hands. At least, I don't think I did. He was still alive when I fled. I bite my lip, considering. If no one helped him, and he bled out, maybe—

"No. I did."

"Oh."

He waits expectantly, and I search for something else to say.

"Good job. If anyone ever deserved to be murdered, it was that guy."

Viz'en nods, his gaze dropping to my left arm. I asked the Csevadian doctor at the clinic to reset it two months ago. He did a great job, and even though it still hurts sometimes, especially if I've been using it all day, it's getting stronger. And the bones are straight under my skin.

"You're healed," he murmurs before his eyes move to my stomach again. "And you kept the baby."

My pulse jumps in my throat before I narrow my eyes. "What do you know about the baby?"

If he thinks he can just waltz into my new life and steal this child away from me, he's wrong. I earned this happiness. I have friends now. I'll fight him.

"I know it's mine."

My hands move forward to cradle my stomach again, shielding it from his gaze. "No—"

"I read Aezok's notes, his data. I know what he was trying to do. And I know what he did to you."

I flinch, shame burning in my cheeks. He knows about the beasties in the lab. About what I did to them to try to stay alive. A flashback hits me, a tiny squirming body with little broken wings.

Bile floods my mouth. I lurch to my feet, sprinting for the bathroom. As I vomit up my dinner, my mind thrusts image after image through my skull. In my nausea and fear, I think of the baby in my belly, his little wings broken and bleeding on some lab table as he screams. I throw up again. And again. My stomach empties until I'm a shivering mess on the bathroom floor.

Absently, I'm aware Viz'en is holding my hair, and a heavy hand is pressing against my lower back. But my brain won't let go of the image of someone hurting my child the same way I hurt those beasties.

Karma. Fate. What I deserve.

But not what my baby deserves. "I'll never let that happen," I croak weakly, finally resting my head against the cool, smooth floor beneath me.

Little One kicks hard, making my limp wrist jump on top of my stomach, and I smile.

This baby is the only thing tethering me to my absurd life. He needs me and I need him. Together, we'll be okay. I'll do whatever it takes to keep us safe. I did it before. I'll do it again. I'll survive. We'll survive.

Tears soak the sleeves of my robe as I whisper my litany of promises over and over again.