Epilogue

Five months later . . .

"Fuck me harder, Viz'en," I shriek, my face muffled by the sheets pooled under my cheek. "I want this baby out of me today!"

Claws prick against my hips as Viz'en powers into me, his breath rasping in my ear.

"I will not hurt you," he pants.

"Won't hurt me," I promise, lifting my hips higher, my huge belly swaying below me. "Makes the contractions start. Swear it."

But instead of pounding me into the bed like I want, Viz'en slows, his cock gliding through my folds at the same time he starts to run his hands up and down my back.

"No, Mara. I will fuck you as many times as you want. But the baby will come when it comes."

I groan, the sensations of him moving in me drowning out the voice in my head that wants this pregnancy over. My breath hitches as pleasure swamps me. Viz'en changes the angle of his stroke and starts moving across my G spot. I whimper, pressing my face harder into the bed.

Viz'en whispers and groans, his deep voice purring encouragement as I start to break apart. My whimpers turn to moans. My pussy spasms around his driving length. His rhythm falters before he grips my hips and slams home, burying himself to the root.

We both collapse onto the bed, the dim light in the room showing me just the shape of his large form, his curving horns.

He curls me into his body, cradling my enormous belly across his thighs, and strokes lazy fingers along my skin, humming in a low tone.

My eyelids flutter closed. I'm a little disappointed that my body isn't immediately riddled with contractions. Come on, that was some vigorous sex. But contentment steals over me anyway.

A little while later, when my water breaks in our bed, I'm almost sorry we don't get to have sex again before we head to the clinic.

Ten hours later . . .

Tension crackles up and down my spine as I pace in front of the birthing pod. Inside, Mara groans as another contraction ripples across her stomach in a visible wave. The water in the pod sloshes when she finally sits up again and reaches for my hand.

"Should it be taking this long?" I ask the female doctor who is patiently sitting beside the monitor screen, her fingers busy on her tablet.

"Anecdotally, yes, I believe it can take many, many hours for Terran females to give birth. Empirically, this is only the third Terran female birth I have attended, and this one is not progressing any faster or slower than expected."

I bite back the urge to snarl at her nonanswer. Rationally, I get it. We're in uncharted waters here. Mara is a Terran; the baby is part-Kral, part-Terran, and part-Kryllian. And Mara informed the doctor ahead of the birth that if she could not push out the baby on her own, the doctor could cut into her to remove it.

Bile churns in my stomach at the thought. I crouch beside the pod, pulling Mara's damp hand into mine. She chose a water pod to birth in, though she informed me Terrans do not have any amphibian DNA. I'm not sure I believe it.

"You're doing an amazing job, dshe mordren," I murmur. "I'm so proud of you."

"Why do you still call me ‘hellcat,'" she demands suddenly, digging her fingernails into my wrist. "That's not a nice thing to call your mate."

I can't stop the grin from spreading across my face. I bend my head to hers and kiss her sweaty brow. "But you are my hellcat. Dshe is mine. I conquered you, and so only I am safe from your claws."

Mara rolls her eyes, but I see the quirk of her lips as she tries to suppress a smile.

She sits up abruptly and asks, "Wait, did you call Olivia and Orix? Are they taking care of Kiwi?"

I check my comm and nod. "They picked her up a few hours ago. She's all settled at their place. Olivia says to tell you Pacey is also in labor."

Mara brightens. "I knew it! The full moon. I told her this morning if she sexed up Ademho, it would happen tonight."

Her smile falls as another contraction grips her body. I clench my hands into fists, feeling my claws punch through my skin.

This one lasts a while, and her face is white when it finally releases.

My voice hoarse, I turn to the doctor. "After this birth, put me on the list for a sterility implant. We're not doing this ever again."

Mara gives a tired laugh.

"I'm serious." I cross my arms, leaning against the pod to hide my trembling knees. "No more."

Two hours later . . .

My son's lusty cry fills the air as the doctor wraps him in a prewarmed cloth and hands him to me. My hands are steady, despite my pounding pulse, when I take the small bundle from her.

His face scrunched with outrage, his skin flushed and bloody, it's impossible to tell what he looks like. But I love him. I love him with every ounce of my being.

Mara stretches out her arms, her face wan but smiling, and I hand her our son. She expertly presses him to her breast, and he roots for only a moment before finding her nipple and latching.

"A champ," Mara croons.

I ignore the whispered sounds of the clinic staff as they turn off the beeping machinery and slip from the room. In moments, it's only my mate and I, and our son, in the dim, warm space.

Mara slides over on the cot, wincing slightly, and I don't hesitate to climb up beside her.

I cradle them both, both pieces of my heart living outside of my body, and I swear to the old gods I will keep them safe forever.

"What are we going to name him?" Mara asks softly, stroking a finger through the baby's downy, dark hair.

"Radeel," I answer, bowing my head to inhale the combined scents of the three of us. "Radeel led me to you, in a roundabout way."

"Radeel," Mara repeats and closes her eyes.

I guard her sleep, and my son's sleep when he slips from her nipple, milk dribbling down his chin, and my heart expands until it feels like it will burst with happiness, with contentedness, with love.

I am a lucky male, indeed.

THE END