Warriors of Phaeton: Dathrow (Bridal Pact)

by Leora Gonzales

  Strong hands cupped her shoulders, causing her to jump.

  “Pixie—” Dathrow’s voice was hoarse with what sounded like regret.

  “Is Wheaton here?” Pixie walked around him and picked up her bag, her back protesting at the movement.

  “Not yet. Let me explain,” Dathrow started, his face earnest.

  “Stop. I won’t be able to listen to anything you have to say right now anyway.” Pixie let her gaze go to his face. For the first time since he’d entered the apartment, she met his eyes with her own. Unable to keep the contact for long, she moved around him to the living room.

  The screen was once again dark, this time only showing a message across the bottom.

  “Video permanently deleted?” Pixie snorted. “Too bad you didn’t think of that earlier.”

  “We need to talk.” Dathrow blocked her path to the door.

  “Not now. I can’t handle it.” Pixie swallowed hard. “Please…” Hearing her own voice break on the plea, she wiped away another tear.

  “Tomorrow,” Dathrow said firmly.

  Nodding but not saying anything, Pixie moved past him. Standing at the door, she didn’t have to wait for long before it beeped and opened.

  “Pixie?” Wheaton asked, his confusion and concern obvious.

  “Take me to Poppy.” The demand came out soft but firm.

  “Of course.” Wheaton glanced back at Dathrow with a question in his eyes.

  “We will talk tomorrow, Pixie,” Dathrow repeated.

  “Sure.” The one-word response was all that Pixie had the energy for. Leaning heavily against Wheaton, Pixie let herself be led down the hallway.

  After a few moments, Wheaton finally spoke. “You are moving stiffly and holding your arm. Are you injured?”

  “I hurt my hand.” The voice that came out of Pixie was completely monotone.

  “How?” Wheaton stopped her from walking when he gently gripped her shoulder. Turning her body toward his, he raised her chin with his knuckles. “Talk to me.”

  “I can’t…it’s too much.” Pixie sniffled, her nose tingling as tears threatened to fall again. “I just hit something and now my hand hurts. It isn’t broken so it’ll be fine.”

  “Why are you having trouble walking?” Wheaton stepped back and folded his arms over his chest.

  “We were dancing today and I tripped. I think that when I caught myself I might have strained something in my back. I just need to rest for a little bit.” Waving her good hand at him, she gave him a sad smile. “We done?”

  “Not close. What has upset you so much?”

  “Wheaton, please. I really don’t want to talk right now. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.” Pixie felt her eyes start to stream tears, the hot liquid leaving wet tracks down her pale face.

  “Please don’t cry.” Wheaton rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, his body language showing his frustration. “When you cry it reminds me of Poppy’s tears when she was first here.”

  “Stop,” Pixie said, her voice cracking.

  “Stop what?” Wheaton asked confused.

  “Don’t compare me to Poppy. Not right now.” Pixie turned and started moving toward the apartment door as fast as her sore body could carry her.

  “No talking then. Just let me help you. Poppy will kill me if you show up like this.”

  Stopping her yet again, Wheaton handed her a small square of cotton. “It’s clean, I promise.” With a small smile, Wheaton shrugged. “I carry it around all the time since your sister likes to cry now.”

  Wiping the cloth over her cheeks, Pixie let out a sad laugh. “She’s become a big baby, hasn’t she?”

  “It doesn’t matter if she is happy, sad, or angry. She cries often with no warning. It is better to be prepared than let her use my tunic to wipe her nose.” Wheaton’s voice was filled with love for his wife.

  “Better?” Pixie asked, nodding up at her brother-in-law.

  “Yes but tomorrow we will be going to medical to get your body healed. There is no point in you suffering from sore muscles when a treatment in the regen bed will take care of it in minutes.”

  “Okay,” Pixie agreed.

  Wheaton let out a heavy sigh as he opened the apartment door. “Poppy is not going to be happy.”

  That was the understatement of the century.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Can you carry her?” Poppy asked, concerned.

  “Of course I can,” Wheaton answered. “The questions is, will she let me?”

  Pixie rolled her eyes where she was huddled on the couch. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here, dammit.” Moving slightly, she groaned loudly in pain. “This was such a bad fucking idea. Why didn’t you stop me?!”

  “Don’t yell at me, bish! I told you that the couch wouldn’t be soft enough for your back. But nooooooo. You just had to go and sleep on it anyway.”

  “Ladies…ladies…will you both shut up!” Wheaton finally yelled when the sisters kept bickering about who was right or wrong.

  “Pixie, I will carry you down to medical. I have already called ahead and they have a regen bed open for us.” Wheaton moved slowly to pick up Pixie, his arms as gentle as possible as they moved under her to cradle her body like a babe.

  “Fuck a duck,” Pixie hissed. “That hurts.”

  “I am trying to be as gentle as possible. Let me know if I am putting too much pressure on you.” Wheaton’s voice was calming as he held her.

  “I told you, you should have used the pillows on the floor. You were all twisted up on that couch,” Poppy grumbled.

  “Pops?” Pixie’s voice was strained as she looked at her sister. Waiting for Poppy to make eye contact with her, she made the best skunk eye she could manage. “Shut the fuck up already.”

  “Maybe once she has a trip to the regen bed, she’ll be in a better mood,” Poppy said to Wheaton, ignoring the glare of death her sister sent her way.

  As the trio walked toward medical, they were all silent. The loud thud of Wheaton’s boots was the only sound in the metal tube.

  Arriving at medical, Wheaton waited for Poppy to open the door before walking through. His efforts to not jar Pixie with his movements were obvious.

  “Wow, you’re worse off than I thought.” Andi walked toward them quickly in concern. “Wheaton, get her into room one. I’ll wait to take her vitals until she’s healed. I’m sure her blood pressure would be high anyway if I took it now.”

  As Wheaton carried Pixie into room one, she could hear Andi ask her sister what happened.

  “We were dancing and she tripped. Instead of falling she tried to catch herself and I think knocked something out of whack.”

  “Not that. Why is her face swollen as if she’s been listening to Adele after a breakup?” Andi’s voice was soft as she and Poppy moved around the main room.

  Before the exam room door closed, Pixie heard her sister say, “She won’t talk about it yet.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Pixie snorted at the overheard conversation as Wheaton laid her down on the regen bed. He stepped back and gave her a stern look. “You will tell us what happened.”

  “Don’t boss me around,” Pixie snapped, anger her preferred emotion over sadness.

  “Pixie, we are family. We want to help. No, we need to help.” Whatever Wheaton was going to say next was interrupted when Rodin walked into the room.

  “Good morning, Pixie. Wheaton said that your hand is hurt and you sustained a fall?” Rodin glanced up from the tablet he was tapping his fingers on, a frown on his face when he saw her.

  “I didn’t fall. I actually caught myself,” Pixie argued.

  “You probably strained some muscles then. A session in the bed will take care of all of that.” Nodding to Wheaton, he said, “I will get the bed started. Please go and check on your wife. When I walked by she was demanding to know if she was going to have to ‘squeeze out a giant’. I am not sure what that means, but Andi started laughing and Poppy
was not amused at that reaction.”

  “I’ll go save her.” Wheaton shook his head as he turned and moved toward the main room.

  “Pixie, just relax and let the regen bed do its job. You will most likely fall asleep as your body relaxes. You have not had much sleep so let it happen.” Rodin’s voice was soft and soothing as the pod began to close.

  Within a few minutes, Pixie felt herself start to drift off as the nagging ache in her back dissipated. She woke to furious whispers what seemed like hours later. Blinking her eyes open, she saw someone had dimmed the exam room lights. Turning her head to the side, she spotted Tamin and Rodin arguing by the door.

  “We have to let him in. He is her husband,” Tamin said.

  “Wheaton is a council member and he has given us permission to keep him out for now. Until I get an order, I will not let Dathrow upset her,” Rodin argued.

  “Docs? What’s going on?” Pixie’s voice was heavy with sleep.

  “When your band logged you into the medical center, it notified Dathrow. He is waiting outside now.” Tamin looked over at Rodin before speaking again. “Rodin mentioned that you were upset earlier and did not want you to wake up with Dathrow present.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” Pixie started to sit up but was quickly surrounded by the doctors as each put one hand behind her back to assist.

  “Pixie, we need to tell you something.” Tamin cast a nervous glance at the door.

  “You’re freaking me out.” Pixie darted her gaze between the men who had started shifting from foot to foot. “Really freaking me out.”

  “During your regen bed treatment, you tested positive for pregnancy.” Rodin’s words came out on one whoosh of air.

  “What?” Pixie shouted.

  “And Wheaton and Poppy know. They were in the room when we reviewed your results,” Tamin added quickly, as if this were a situation where pulling off the Band-Aid faster was better in the long run.

  “Oh God.” Burying her face in her hands, Pixie was torn between laughing and crying at the situation. Of course she would be pregnant. With her luck lately, it would be twins!

  “Pixie, that’s not all.” Rodin’s voice interrupted her mini-breakdown.

  Oh my God, it is twins!

  “When Dathrow arrived, he told Wheaton and Poppy what happened,” Rodin said with a visible cringe.

  “Sweet. Baby. Jesus,” Pixie whispered.

  “Exactly. Wheaton hit him and broke his jaw. Dathrow is in room two being treated as we speak.”

  “How much worse can this get?” Pixie said to no one in particular.

  “I think we’ve hit maximum capacity for the shit hitting the fan,” Andi’s dry voice chimed in from the doorway. “Wheaton tried to kill Dathrow, you’re pregnant and your sister won’t stop crying.”

  “Kill me now,” Pixie groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Hey, my back feels amazing.” Looking around the bed in wonder, she petted the mattress as if giving praise to a dog. “Good regen bed. Next time though let’s keep the baby news to ourselves until we’re ready to deal with it, okay?”

  “Is she okay?” Tamin glanced at Andi, his confusion at Pixie’s reactions apparent.

  “She’s fine…maybe having a slight mental breakdown but fine.” Andi laughed at the expression of fright on Rodin’s face as he watched Pixie talk to the bed as if it could hear her.

  “Rodin, Dathrow will be finished within five minutes. How are we gonna handle this?”

  Rodin ran his hands through his hair. Pulling at the strands, he looked up at the ceiling as if it held the answers.

  “I guess we wait for council orders?” Rodin’s tired voice suggested.

  “You know that they are going to give him access to her because of the baby, right?” Andi nodded toward Pixie’s stomach.

  “Hold the phone. What?” Pixie sat straight up, this time without the help of the doctors.

  “You are carrying a Phaeton baby. They won’t hold your husband back from claiming what’s his,” Tamin pointed out.

  “But—” Pixie’s voice was cut off.

  “Pixie, you know the paperwork. The baby will be unable to leave even if you decide to nullify your union to Dathrow.”

  “Fuuuuuuuuuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Pixie studied the somber faces of her friends. “You said that Wheaton and Poppy know about the baby… Has anyone told Dathrow yet?”

  When the doctors shook their heads, she let out a sigh of relief. “For now, let’s keep that info to ourselves. I need time to think before I tell him.”

  “He should know about his baby, Pixie. Is there no way to forgive Dathrow?” Rodin asked.

  Andi shook her head as her husband voiced the question. “Rodin, we need to stay out of this…”

  “But—”

  “None of our business,” Andi interrupted him.

  “I’m not saying I’ll keep it a secret forever. I just need a little time to figure shit out before he goes into crazy dad-to-be mode on me,” Pixie explained.

  “Fine.” Pouting, he crossed his arms over his chest.

  Pixie rubbed her hands over her face. “What am I going to do?”

  What was he going to do? Dathrow’s mind worked overtime to try to figure out a way out of the mess he somehow had managed to create. He couldn’t lose Pixie. That wasn’t an option. Dathrow opened his mouth slowly, testing his jaw. Being a councilor had apparently not altered Wheaton’s ability to deliver a strong blow. It felt as if he had been hit with a metal pipe.

  Dathrow sat up on the regen bed and ran his hands into his hair. Fisting the strands, he pulled at them in frustration.

  How had this situation gotten so out of control? Yes, he realized now that he should have told Pixie about his previous match to her sister. Did he still have feelings for Poppy? Absolutely not. Other than friendship and a feeling of a family bond, there was no desire to have anything more.

  Rubbing his jaw, Dathrow grimaced at the soreness that lingered. Wheaton had not really given him a chance to explain what had happened. He had been so angered over the pain Pixie was in that he swung before Dathrow could say more than a few sentences. It had only been made worse due to the fact that Poppy had been crying and angry as well. Knowing his friend was also responding to the pain that his wife was showing made Dathrow unable to be angry at Wheaton. These human women had the ability to turn their warriors inside out with a single look, much less a tear. He knew he would do anything for his own wife. He just had to make sure she stayed his wife.

  The tension in Dathrow’s head made it throb as he tried to figure out how fix this. In Pixie’s own words…he might be screwed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Okay, this is what we’re going to do,” Poppy said, her voice firm as the three huddled in the main room in medical.

  Pixie smiled at Wheaton. “Don’t you just love how it’s a ‘we’re’ situation now?”

  “I expected nothing less from Poppy.” Wheaton put his arm over his wife’s shoulders, hugging her into his body.

  “Poppy, there isn’t really any other option. I’m not leaving my baby.” Pixie released the words with a huge breath.

  “I wasn’t going to say that.” Poppy gave her sister a disgusted look.

  “What were you going to suggest then?” Pixie sat back in the chair, hoping Poppy could pull another option out of thin air.

  “So, we know you can’t leave your baby. And we know that you can’t really stay here as a single human. So the only solution is to be matched to another warrior.” As if she’d just solved world hunger, Poppy had a smug grin of accomplishment on her face.

  “Stupidest idea ever.” Holding up her hand before her sister could speak, Pixie continued, “Seriously. There’s no way I’m ready to be mated to anyone else. Maybe ever.” Pixie took a moment to get her emotions under control. “Pops, what I felt for Dathrow was real on my part. What happened felt like it was going to kill me.” She swallowed hard. “Isn’t it funny that after a few weeks with Dathrow he was able to dest
roy me when Brian had years and just pissed me off?”

  Poppy was shaking her head. “Pixie…I’m so sorry. I should have told you that we’d been a potential match. We were only friends though, I promise.”

  The fact that her sister had kept that information from her still burned. She had to admit she hadn’t taken the news well. Pixie had screamed at Poppy and part of her had blamed her sister for the mess she was in now. Then she’d come to her senses and trusted her sister hadn’t done it to cause problems. In the end, Poppy had thought she was helping.

  After the sisters had finished their come-to-Jesus meeting, Poppy asked how Pixie had gotten pregnant if they were using condoms. That was the million-dollar question. The doctors had wondered as well, both of them knowing Pixie and Dathrow were being safe. The truth was that condoms weren’t one hundred percent effective and Pixie had apparently fallen into the minority of statics regarding protected sex. Pixie remembered she’d never asked Dathrow about the curious wetness during their first foray into safe sex. Not to mention the shower sex that she distinctly remembered being latex free…

  For someone who had been so completely adamant about using condoms she’d really dropped the ball on this one. Not that she regretted it now. Granted it was the absolute worst time for a baby but still it was Dathrow’s baby. There was honestly nothing that her heart wanted more…regardless of what her brain was shouting at her.

  “So, you’re just going to stay married to keep the baby?” Poppy voiced the question Pixie was afraid to even ask herself.

  “Right now…that’s the plan until I can come up with a better one. I don’t want him to know about the baby yet either. What if I have another miscarriage? It’s too early to know if this is going to take or not.”

  “Poppy,” Wheaton warned quickly when it appeared she was going to argue with Pixie. “She needs to make decisions for herself. We will be here for her no matter what and she knows that. And don’t forget, you didn’t tell me you were pregnant immediately either.”