by Poppy Rhys
It was Jruviin’s turn to smile, because it’d be a subzero day in the blistering Huttin territory before he let Piktiin anywhere near his fledglings.
He stood. “Set course for Melierun. I need a comm and a med kit.”
Piktiin’s chin dipped. “It will be sent to your quarters.”
He couldn’t get out of there fast enough and as he made his way back to his mates, he had time to run the conversation over in his mind. He concluded...
Piktiin hadn’t changed, but Jruviin’s status had.
The last thing his father told him right after he’d been tossed in the back of a transport: “Gain your honor or die.”
Draekiins viewed honor differently than many other races. Brutality and strength brought honor, and Jruviin displayed neither before Tundrin. Even in his arms dealing, his father’s security handled the physical altercations.
Jruviin had never been a good male in that sense. Not in the eyes of his people or his father.
But now...
As he walked through the corridors of the craft, his father’s staff—fellow Draekiins—looked at him with true respect. Not the begrudging kind because he was the son of their employer, but admiration. They even went so far as to nod in his direction or greet him in passing.
It dialed down his nerves. Because no, Piktiin hadn’t changed. He was the same old Draekiin Jruviin grew up under. Piktiin was simply treating him according to his new worth. Everyone was.
Fucking weird didn’t begin to describe it, but his success on Tundrin was saving their asses right now. There was no other way—in any galaxy—Draekiins would be civil having a Melier on their ship.
And under normal circumstances? Dania would’ve been passed around already and repeatedly violated. Draekiins and Equahns weren’t so different when it all boiled down.
He didn’t belong here anymore.
These were his people, they always would be, but he gained their respect too late. He’d become someone new, someone different. Maybe the Drae respected him, but they still didn’t know him. Not the way his mates did.
Jruviin, frustrated, shoved a hand through his crest feathers. He couldn’t wait to be free of it all.
FIFTY
VAL’KOY
Val’Koy held the comm in his hand as he anxiously rubbed a palm over his head. It’d been so long since he’d talked to anyone back home and the mountain of how much explaining he’d have to do—huge.
“What are you waiting for?” Jruviin whispered, glancing over his shoulder where Dania lay in the other room, whimpering in her sleep.
He didn’t know. This was what he wanted, what they needed, yet he couldn’t bring himself to punch the fucking digits.
Val’Koy could feel Jruviin’s glare burning holes into his skin, so he avoided looking up.
“Give me the comm.” Jruviin reached for the device.
Val’Koy bristled. “I got it.”
He willed his hand to stop trembling, mentally threatening to fucking cut it off, tapped out the proper numbers and watched as the connection probed. He idly wondered what it would feel like to sweat as some Therrans did when nervous.
The connection established and Val’Ja’s face took up the comm screen. Neither said anything for a span of moments and just stared.
Jruviin’s foot kicked his, jolting Val’Koy to reanimate. “This is Val’Koy,” he lamely blurted, like his own brother wouldn’t know his mug. He hadn’t been like Gi’Ren, the idiot who went and got his face marked up during the war.
“A-are you all right? How... what...” Val’Ja uttered a frustrated sound before roaring, “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!”
Val’Koy sighed as it was followed up with a million questions and some choice insults.
“I—”
Val’Ja cut him off again, scolding him as if he were the older one and not the other way around. Val’Koy was the firstborn. He did the scolding.
Val’Koy opened his mouth again, but quickly shut it and sighed.
“Soren? Why are you yelling?” Lucia questioned in the background.
“Val’Koy is on the comm!” he shouted, gesturing.
“What?!” she squawked, her face popping up on the screen a second later, followed by a shrill sound.
Val’Koy rubbed his ear, cursing Therran females and their high vocal cords.
“Ohmigawd!” she exclaimed over and over. “You’re alive! What the fuck! Ohmigawd!”
Jruviin’s head tilted to the side as he listened to it all, no doubt wondering what kind of imbeciles Val’Koy called family.
“I need to speak to medic Tuzon,” Val’Koy finally raised his voice above the chaos.
“Are you hurt?” his brother and Lucia chimed in unison, expressions darkening.
Dania woke with a scale-tightening shriek at that precise moment.
Lucia gasped. “Hold on, we’re headed to the med-bay.” The picture jostled while she ran. “Don’t disconnect!”
“Get Gi’Moy!” Val’Ja yelled at a guard. “Urgent matter!”
Val’Koy followed Jruviin into the bedroom when Dania screamed again. She writhed in the sheets before kicking them off and holding her middle.
“Shhh,” Jruviin soothed, rubbing their mate’s back as River inched away to give her some breathing room.
Her hair stuck to the sides of her face and her neck, droplets of sweat littering her skin. “Get her jacket off. She is too warm.”
Even when Jruviin gently lifted her into a sitting position, she cried out and actual tears leaked from the irritated corners of her eyes.
“Sorry,” the Draekiin murmured repeatedly, carefully dragging the fabric off Dania. She sagged against his chest, looping her arms around his middle while sobbing.
Val’Koy felt like complete and utter shit. His fists clenched, and he had to consciously lighten up on the comm else he’d crush it.
“Prince Val’Koy, how may I assist?” Tuzon said into the comm. They must’ve transferred the call to a mounted system, since he could see everyone standing in the medical bay, including—
“Dr. Trex?” he burst. “What are you doing on Melierun?”
“Prince Val’Koy,” he greeted and adjusted his glasses on his pert nose. “I was here to assist in the delivery of Lucia’s son. Stayed on for a few weeks to visit.”
Val’Koy froze, his jaw slackening. “I have a... a nephew?”
“You do. All ten toes and a long tail.”
Another shriek from Dania, and Val’Koy’s eyelids had a small spasm.
“Was that a scream?” the doctor inquired. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. No, everything is not all right,” he raised his voice above the keening. “Dania is carrying and in pain—”
“You have a pregnant human with you?” Dr. Trex stepped closer to the screen.
"Yes."
"Is the fetus yours?"
Val’Koy darted a glance at Jruviin. "Fetuses. Maybe mine and another's."
"Another?" Tuzon queried. "Another Melier is with you?"
"No,” he drawled. “A Draekiin."
Val’Koy’s scales tightened at the pinched expression on Tuzon’s face before it smoothed away. Val’Ja stiffened, eyes narrowing while Lucia looked around, oblivious.
“What’s a Draekiin?” she blurted.
Val’Koy expected it wouldn’t be a well-received revelation, but it still irked him.
Dr. Trex appeared as unfazed as Lucia, except the hint of curiosity at what a Draekiin was. "I will contact my research team immediately. How far along is she? Has she manifested the coo’va scent? What is her name? Is she fully human?"
"Dania Dennik," Val’Koy breathed, trying not to let Dania’s whimpers upset him further. "I am unsure how far along, perhaps a few weeks. No scent yet, and she says she is human." Dr. Trex’s brow pinched and Val’Koy immediately picked up on the subtle shift. "What?"
"Either Dania isn't fully human, or something else is afoot." His expression appeared to fight between exc
itement and urgency. "I don’t mean to alarm you, but time is of the essence. If she is anything like Lucia, she will need a specific cell—synthetic or natural—to sustain a Melier pregnancy." He paused, and Val’Koy’s jaw started grinding because he knew what was coming. "Without them, her body will most likely abort. Dania’s life could be—"
"I understand," he bit out. Val’Koy knew Lucia needed special care during her pregnancies, but it didn't make it any easier to hear that Dania and their younglings could... die.
"Forgive me Prince but... when you said the fetus belonged to you and a Draekiin, were you implying there may be more than one fetus?"
Val’Koy swallowed. Why was he suddenly nervous? "Yes," he admitted. "But we have no definitive number.”
If it was possible for Dr. Trex to turn paler, he did.
"Oh my," he exhaled. "I believe I understand what may be happening.”
Jruviin canted his head, listening closely just as Val’Koy did.
“Humans are not physically capable of carrying more than one Melier fetus at a time. The development is too quick, and the babes too large. The female human body precariously sustains one. Multiples would..." he silenced, as if lost in thought for a moment, keeping everyone on the fucking edge. "There is simply not enough space for multiples to be carried healthily to full term."
"That is why she cries in pain?"
He adjusted his glasses and scratched his graying head. "Is it constant?"
“Dania?” he probed for an answer.
"Yes,” she moaned. “Constant!”
"Her uterus and the round ligaments are most likely under too much stress,” he explained. “Stretching too much too fast could be the case here. Human pregnancies are nearly twice the length of a Melier term. More than one fetus, coupled with the quick growth of Melier-human hybrids, and the stress could certainly cause extreme pain. I imagine it would be similar if Draekiin’s are anything like Melier."
Val’Koy, once again, wanted to bash his head into a wall. Repeatedly.
“Has her body tried to abort?”
“How would we be able to tell?” Jruviin asked.
Dr. Trex turned pink and tugged at his collar. “Uh, well—”
“Green splooge and blood would be leaking from her vagina,” Lucia answered unabashedly, and everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably.
Dania’s muffled, short-lived laughter was so soft, he barely heard it. “No,” she murmured.
“She said no.”
The human doctor sagged with relief. “I don’t know if that will change,” he admitted. “There are too many variables, and without her here, I can’t give any solid answers. How soon will you arrive?”
Val’Koy glimpsed Jruviin. “A couple weeks, give or take.”
The grave expression on Dr. Trex’s face had Val’Koy’s guts clenching, preparing for bad news, but all he said was, “We’ll be ready.”
Ready for a funeral or ready to welcome new lives?
****
Val’Koy’s nerves were shot.
He’d spent an hour getting lectured by his queen and explaining what the hell happened.
So much had occurred since he left home. So much had changed in his life.
He glanced over at his sleeping mates. Dania had passed out again and Jruviin was wrapped around her this time.
A year ago, he would’ve bruised his middle laughing if a soothsayer would’ve predicted he’d be in love with a Therran, much less share her with a Draekiin.
Yet...
He felt nothing but love for Dania, and a sense of brotherhood and deep respect for Jruviin. He trusted the Draekiin with his life, as fucking flowery as that sounded.
Val’Koy scrubbed his face. No one on Melierun would understand their bond. The majority of his people might accept Dania over time, as Lucia had already started paving the way, but to form a mated bond with a Draekiin?
Abso-fucking-lutely deranged.
Val’Koy suddenly hated the blood that ran in his veins. Hated the color of his skin that claimed him as a royal Melier.
Had Val’Ja and Val’Zun felt this way?
He wanted to go anywhere else, anywhere but home. He knew what he had felt when his brothers brought back a human. He recalled the thoughts that ran through his mind—the dominant judgement: humans weren’t beings deserving of respect. A subpar race that should’ve died out long ago.
He ran the side of his claw against Dania’s soft ankle.
Therran’s may be fragile, but they weren’t lesser. They were a diverse race with traditions and complex cultures and came in a myriad of interesting shapes, sizes, and shades. They had a humor, a vividness, that wildly differed from his culture.
He’d been a fool to think they were any less deserving of respect or a place in the universe. Val’Koy knew others wouldn’t understand. Not yet. Change was always difficult.
If he’d been born into any other family, he’d never return to Melierun. He could have found a safe place to raise his family, away from judgement. That could only ever be a daydream.
“What troubles you?”
Val’Koy startled at Jruviin’s voice, and then exhaled. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was,” he murmured. “But your worrying is too loud. Have you forgotten I know you? Something is grating your scales aside from the obvious concern for our mate.”
Val’Koy’s lip twitched and he shook his head, unbidden warm feelings spreading from his chest.
Ah, A’Drast, something was wrong with him.
“They will not understand,” he finally muttered.
“Your family?”
Val’Koy nodded. “The people, too. They will think this,” he gestured to encompass Jruviin, Dania, and even River, “is unnatural.”
“Are you afraid?”
“No,” he hurriedly burst out and then sighed. “Maybe. I know what went through my mind when my brothers brought a Therran home.” Val’Koy fisted his hands at the blatantly disrespectful beliefs he once had. “I hate knowing what others may think about us. You. Dania.”
Jruviin’s tail came up to thump against his side as Val’Koy sat on the end of the bed. “I am no stranger to being unwanted,” he stated matter-of-factly and Val’Koy had the sudden urge to strangle Piktiin.
“You are not unwanted,” he seethed. “Not by me. Not by her. Your shit father can get crushed in a black h—”
Jruviin chuckled.
“What is funny?”
“I love you too.”
Val’Koy grumbled and flopped back down against the bed.
“Stay with us,” Jruviin tiredly muttered, “and we will make it through what comes next.”
Val’Koy’s tail twitched and he curled up against Dania, his hand lightly spreading against her belly. “I would never leave.”
The thought had never entered his mind.
FIFTY-ONE
VAL’KOY
This was bad.
This was terrifyingly bad.
Val’Koy chewed off his claws for the third time that day while he watched Jruviin run a cool cloth over Dania’s face. She was—thankfully—unconscious. His ears were so sensitive from her screaming they sporadically rang the past few days.
They couldn’t cover her mouth each time—only when it got extremely unbearable—and when they did, they felt like fucking pricks.
It was her pain and she should be allowed to express it, even if he and Jruviin went deaf in the process. Dania suffered for their carelessness or ignorance—it really didn’t matter which.
How her vocal cords still functioned was a mystery.
They couldn’t administer any kind of pain medication the Draekiins possessed. They weren’t developed for humans and there was no one on board that could help them adjust the drugs for their mate.
Despite the harrowing notion, Dania was safer riding this out until they reached their destination.
The room felt like it was closing in tighter with each passing day. He paced, not darin
g to leave Jruviin’s quarters, even as the Drae fetched food and water. Val’Koy didn’t like it, but he felt safer knowing the tasteless items hadn’t been tampered with.
Despite the crew’s newfound respect for his partner, the rift between their species hadn’t magically evaporated. Val’Koy hadn’t seen Piktiin, but he knew Jruviin had visited his father a few times to inquire about travel.
Val’Koy scrubbed a hand over his head while his gaze inched down Dania’s body, the silken sheet doing very little to hide the rounded hump of her belly.
“How much longer?” he muttered.
Jruviin sighed, likely because Val’Koy asked every damn day how close to Melierun they were. “Three days.”
Just shy of two weeks and Dania’s stomach had expanded. Her once fleshy parts weren’t as plump as they used to be. Even her face was paler, less full—a ghostly shell of her usual self.
She wasn’t eating. She’d tried, but it wouldn’t stay down. Water was the only thing that didn’t come right back up—usually.
It was like the younglings were moving on without her, taking what nutrients they needed without a care that their mother was withering away.
They were growing so fast that her pants wouldn’t fit, and her skin was cracking. The day he’d seen the first smattering of jagged, angry pink marks along her abdomen had petrified him.
None of Lucia’s pregnancies had been like this. He realized just how much Dr. Trex and Tuzon had helped in the process. But she’d only ever carried one babe at a time. None of them knew how many Dania carried.
Extreme guilt had twisted his gut. Val’Koy wanted younglings, but not at the price of Dania’s life.
What if she couldn’t make it another three days?
Val’Koy moved past River who sat on the floor at the foot of the bed. The wolvenk looked exhausted. They all looked exhausted. Val’Koy couldn’t help but wonder if Dania talked to River through their mental bond or if she were just as silent there too.
The last time she’d been conscious and lucid enough to say anything, she’d grabbed Val’Koy’s hand, stared up at him through pinkened eyes, and whispered, “River won’t survive on his own.”
