Untamed Hunger

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Untamed Hunger Page 26

by Tiffany Roberts


  Drakkal’s eyes fell upon her again, and he smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, kiraia. We do have to be careful, though. We’re not exactly law-abiding citizens.”

  “Ha! Speak for yourself, kitty. I’ve turned over a new leaf, remember?”

  “Should I remind you that the first thing you did once you were free was rob me?”

  She grinned up at him. “It was self-defense.”

  “Oh. No problem, then.” He flicked his gaze to her stomach. Over the last several weeks, she’d often grabbed his hand and pressed it to her belly so he could feel the cub within shift and kick. “How are you feeling? Have the cramps eased?”

  She shifted her hand to the top of her stomach. “They come and go, some stronger than others. But I’m okay. Urgand said it was normal for how far along I am.”

  Whether it was normal or not, Drakkal didn’t like it. Shay’s discomfort had only increased lately, and her pregnancy was clearly impacting her in many ways. She couldn’t move as easily as she had when they first met, she often seemed fatigued, and she struggled to find comfortable positions in bed no matter how she and Drakkal contorted their bodies—or how many different pillows and blankets he obtained to accommodate her. And there was nothing he could do about it. He hated that feeling of helplessness, hated that his mate was suffering, and that he couldn’t do anything to diminish her suffering.

  Over the last few days, she’d taken to moving ceaselessly, even when she looked otherwise exhausted.

  Shay stepped in front of him, causing him to stop, and raised her hand to cup his jaw. “You suck at hiding your thoughts.”

  Drakkal frowned and furrowed his brow. “According to you and Arc, I just look grumpy all the time.”

  “A hot grumpy.” Her lips spread into a wide, teasing smile. “A sexy grumpy.”

  He stared into her eyes, and warmth spread across the surface of his skin. His tail swung around to brush along the outside of her leg. “I just wish I could do more for you, kiraia.”

  Her smile softened as she stroked her thumb across his cheek. “You do everything already, Drakkal.”

  “Everything will never be enough,” he said, unable to keep his lips from stretching into a grin; he knew she considered such sentiments sappy, but it was the truth. He’d never been one to share his feelings—and had never been accused by anyone of sucking at hiding his thoughts before her—but it came naturally in Shay’s company.

  Shay’s cheeks pinkened. She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly snapped it shut, lips pale and thin. She released his hand to clutch the sides of her belly, drawing in a sharp breath. “Oh. That was a rough one.”

  Drakkal’s frown swiftly returned. He placed one hand on her shoulder and cupped her cheek with the other. “We’re going back to—”

  He was silenced when a voice—a husky, feminine voice that was entirely too familiar—said, “Drakkal?”

  For an instant, Drakkal’s past, stretching back twenty years, was laid bare at the forefront of his mind. All the pain, hurt, and heartache flooded back, as raw and potent as it had been back then. He turned his face toward the person who’d spoken.

  The female azhera gasped. “It is you.”

  Vanya looked largely unchanged by the years. Her fur was the same rusty brown, her eyes the same gold—and just as cold as they’d been the last time he’d seen her. She was tall and athletically built, standing with the confidence she’d always displayed; as much a natural, beautiful huntress as ever. Even her attire harkened back to their younger days—a leather harness on top, little more than a series of straps and buckles that crossed over her mounds, a broad belt with pouches, a knife, and a blaster, and a skirt formed of swatches of drab cloth and strips of tristeel-reinforced leather.

  It was the same sort of clothing she might’ve worn on one of their hunting trips two decades before.

  Drakkal’s old pain faded quickly, but it left an emptiness inside him, likely the result of shock. He should never have seen this female again, and he wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel. Drakkal’s arms fell away from Shay. “Vanya.”

  She smiled and stepped closer. “You remember me,” she purred, reaching out to touch his face.

  Shay smacked Vanya’s arm away. “Don’t fucking touch him.”

  Drakkal hadn’t seen Shay move, but there she was, standing between him and Vanya like a small but terribly formidable wall, every bit as confident as the female azhera—and infinitely more beautiful.

  Vanya reared back in surprise for an instant before her features contorted into a snarl. She growled at Shay, baring her fangs and spreading her claws.

  That was more than enough to spark something in Drakkal, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel toward Vanya in all this time, something he should have felt long ago. Fury. It wasn’t only about what she’d done, it was about what she was doing. Drakkal would not tolerate threats to his mate.

  He growled and wrapped his arm around Shay’s shoulders from behind, drawing her back against his chest and twisting to turn her away from Vanya.

  “Who the hell are you?” Shay demanded before Drakkal could speak.

  Vanya’s expression remained hard and cold as she moved her eyes over Drakkal. Her gaze shifted to Shay and dipped; she undoubtedly noticed the swell of Shay’s stomach. Envy flared in Vanya’s eyes.

  “His lover,” Vanya said, raising her chin and sensually rolling her shoulders. “Who are you?”

  “I’m his mate, so you better fucking back off.”

  Vanya laughed, her grin wide and mocking. “His mate? Hardly.” She leaned down so her eyes were level with Shay’s. “You’re nothing but a weak, soft-skinned terran. Easily…broken.”

  Shay lunged for Vanya with startling strength. “Bitch, I’ll show you who’s easily broken!”

  Grunting, Drakkal wrapped both arms around Shay and held her back. Despite the disparity in their size and weight, he was losing that struggle until he lifted her off her feet—but even then, she didn’t stop.

  “You’re about to have your ass kicked by someone who has to waddle to the bathroom three times a night!” Shay shouted.

  “It would be too easy to take you apart, terran,” said Vanya.

  Drakkal’s ears flattened, and his fur bristled. His muscles tensed with another wave of rage that coaxed a fresh growl out of his chest. He turned fully, giving Vanya his back, and set Shay on her feet. “Stay,” he grated through his teeth.

  He barely registered her glare before he turned toward Vanya. She had a mirthful spark in her eye and that smirk on her lips that had once lured in a young, lonely, naïve azheran male. It had been too late by the time Drakkal had recognized the cruel, icy void lurking behind her humor.

  “You ought to put a leash on your pet, Drakkal,” Vanya said, sauntering a little closer.

  Were they in the Undercity, he might’ve killed Vanya right then. His old feelings for her didn’t matter—they were long dead. He would not abide insults and threats to his mate, and Vanya herself was a walking threat. But his surroundings stayed his hand; violence here would be noticed, and the peacekeepers would act. He could not bring that sort of attention to himself or Shay.

  “She is my mate, and I will not allow a traitorous zhe’gaash to speak ill of her,” he said in as slow and measured a tone as he could manage. “I know you for what you are now. Leave, or I’ll treat you accordingly.”

  Her ears dropped briefly before they rose again. “Time changes us, Drakkal. I’m not what you remember.”

  He stared into her eyes, his shoulders rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. He made no effort to mask his bitterness and hatred. “Neither am I.”

  She sighed. “Oh, Drakkal, you loved me once. Surely you haven’t forgotten everything.” She eased closer still and flicked her tail out to brush his leg. “We were fierce lovers.”

  That reminder only further agitated the maelstrom within him. There’d been something there once, something he’d mistaken for love even for years af
ter she betrayed him…but it had never been that. She knew it as well as he did.

  “I remember all of it.” Though he kept his hands lowered, he flexed his fingers, extending his natural claws and forming his prosthesis’ hardlight claws. “You have three seconds, Vanya. Walk away, just like the last time.”

  Her voice lowered and grew huskier as she said, “Mmm. When you strike, Drakkal, you strike deep.” She reached out despite his warning and caressed his cheek.

  He snarled and batted her hand away.

  Pain and anger flashed across Vanya’s features for an instant, but she recovered quickly, and the smugness returned to her expression. “Seek me out again when you’re alone.”

  Dropping her hand, she turned and sauntered away, her tail lazily swaying behind her. Drakkal didn’t remove his eyes from her until she was gone, but Vanya being out of sight offered him no comfort. Her scent, woefully familiar, lingered in the air—and on his cheek. Once, he’d longed to have that scent in his fur, had craved it, had thrilled in it. Now he wanted nothing more than to scrub it off.

  He turned to Shay and froze.

  Her skin was pale, too pale, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. She stood with her feet wide apart, posture stiff. The angry fire that had burned in her eyes moments before had vanished, replaced by a gleam of fear. He knew immediately the change had nothing to do with Vanya.

  “I fucked up, didn’t I?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  Drakkal’s brow furrowed, and his heart quickened. “What’s wrong, kiraia?”

  “I…I think my water broke.”

  He tilted his head and lowered his gaze. There was a dark stain beginning at the crotch of her pants and continuing down her leg, but he couldn’t detect even a hint of the distinctive scent of terran urine. “I…don’t understand.”

  “The baby, Drak. The baby is coming,” she said, speaking quicker and quicker with every word, her voice rising as tears filled her eyes. “It’s too soon. She’s not supposed to come yet! Oh, God, I fucked up.”

  For a second, perhaps two, Drakkal couldn’t process what she’d said. It was too soon. Wasn’t it? And how could the cub possibly come now, after what had just happened? But even if his logical mind was slow to catch up to the situation, his instincts roared up from his subconscious.

  He scooped her off her feet, cradled her in his arms, and ran back toward the hovercar. “You’re all right. You’re both all right. We’re going back now.”

  She wrapped her arm around his neck and sniffled as the tears ran down her cheeks. “I messed up like I always do. I-I shouldn’t have tried to attack that woman. I did this.”

  “Quiet, female.” He maneuvered through the surrounding foot traffic, which fortunately wasn’t as thick as in many places in the Undercity—the upper portion of Arthos had nothing if not abundant pedestrian pathways.

  He roared at the people in his path regardless, unwilling to risk even the slightest delay.

  “It’s her time to come,” he said to Shay in as calm a voice as he could muster between those roars. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Shay gasped and hunched forward, body stiffening. She grasped a fistful of his mane, pulling his fur, as she clutched her belly with her other hand. Drakkal barely felt the pain. He increased his pace as much as possible without jarring her.

  When they reached the hovercar, he wasted no time in opening the passenger side door and settling her on the seat. He fastened her safety harness and closed the door without allowing himself even an instant to fret over her condition—every second was precious now. Urgand had warned them that this could happen at any time, and that there was a chance she’d have little warning. The data he’d found on terran pregnancies suggested that no two were quite the same.

  He vaulted across the front of the hovercar, tugged open the driver’s side door, and climbed in. The vehicle swayed under his weight. He activated the engines before he even had the door fully closed and ascended the moment the hovercar was ready.

  Keeping his left hand on the controls, he held the right out to Shay. “I’m here. We’re going to get back, and everything will be fine.”

  She grasped his hand and nodded, breathing heavily for a few moments before some of the tension left her. “Okay. Okay,” she said, still holding her free hand over her belly. “Hear that, baby girl? Everything…is going to be fine.”

  As much as Drakkal disliked voice commands, this was exactly the sort of situation in which they were useful.

  “Call That Horny Prick,” he said.

  Shay huffed a laughed despite everything. “That’s your contact name for Arc?”

  “Tell me it doesn’t fit,” he replied with a fleeting smirk.

  The vehicle’s center control screen switched to a commlink array, displaying a pending connection with a commlink number. The connection was accepted almost instantly.

  “Pussy Cat,” Arcanthus said smoothly. “I thought you were on a date with Shay. Were you—”

  “I will claw your fucking eyes out if you make one more cat joke,” Drakkal growled. “Cub’s coming. We’ll be there in ten. Have Urgand ready.”

  “Baby’s coming right now?” There were muffled voices in the background, too low and garbled to understand. “We’ll all be ready. Drive safe.”

  The call disconnected.

  “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Shay’s grip on Drakkal’s hand tightened again as her breaths shallowed and quickened.

  Drakkal glanced at her from the corner of his eye even as he increased the speed of the hovercar. Beads of perspiration had begun to gather on her forehead.

  “Breathe, kiraia. You’re in control. And soon, you’ll be holding your cub with your own hands.”

  “Who was she?” Shay asked when her body eased.

  “Who?”

  “That female azhera.”

  His expression tightened at the mere thought of Vanya; she was a threat to Shay, and his instincts didn’t appreciate that he’d let her walk away. “Someone who doesn’t matter.”

  It had taken them nearly twenty minutes to drive to the starting point of their upper city walk. Drakkal completed the return journey in eight—and those eight minutes were the longest of his life. Shay’s flares of pain were frequent, coming and going at random, and all he could do was let her squeeze his hand and drive. The former felt ineffective, the later too slow.

  The garage door was already open when they arrived home. He swung the hovercar around and pulled up directly to the interior door so it was only a meter or two from Shay’s side.

  Arcanthus, Razi, and Samantha were waiting. They helped Shay out of the car as Drakkal rushed around to her. He swept her into his arms again and hurried for the infirmary. Urgand was standing in the hallway as they approached.

  “Her water broke,” Drakkal said. “Can you fix it?”

  Urgand preceded him through the door and gestured to an adjustable bed with a pair of stirrups. “Probably just the amniotic sac rupturing.”

  Sam followed Drakkal in, closing the door behind her.

  “That sounds worse,” Drakkal growled as he carefully lowered Shay onto the table.

  “Messy but normal,” Urgand said distractedly. He was hurriedly moving equipment into place around the bed and pulling up floating holo screens. “Take off her pants.”

  Drakkal’s ears slapped down. He clenched his jaw and reminded himself—more than once in rapid succession—that this was necessary. She couldn’t very well push her cub out into her pants.

  “It’s fine, Drakkal,” Shay said, dropping her hands to her waistband.

  Drakkal scowled and tugged off her boots before helping remove her pants. He tossed them onto the floor, turned his head, and glared at Urgand.

  “Do I need to have Razi and the boss hold you back?” Urgand asked, pulling on a pair of gloves.

  “Why?”

  Shay grunted and closed her eyes, her face strained as she gripped the sides of the bed. Fluid seeped from her and wet the beddin
g.

  “I need to check how far along she is,” Urgand said.

  “So turn on the scanner and see,” Drakkal replied.

  “He has to feel,” Sam said, easing up beside Drakkal at the foot of the bed with a sheet. She draped the sheet over Shay’s legs and waist.

  Not for the first time, Drakkal’s instincts warred with one another. The most rational of his impulses was to question the necessity of feeling anything. All this damned equipment, all this expensive equipment, and for what? What was the point of it? But he was not so lost to instinct as to crumble to those impulses.

  He loved Shay, and—though he’d yet to meet her—loved the baby, too. Whatever was the best for them. Whatever was the safest.

  Drakkal nodded tightly.

  “Get her feet up,” Urgand said as he pulled on a pair of thin gloves.

  Samantha and Drakkal took opposite sides of the bed and did as Urgand had commanded.

  “Let us know when your contraction is over, Shay,” Sam said.

  Shay nodded, features tight. After a few seconds, her expression relaxed slightly. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  With an uncertain, concerned glance at Drakkal, Urgand slipped one hand beneath the sheet and placed the other over Shay’s pelvis.

  Drakkal growled long and low, forcing his full attention to Shay. “I’ve got you, kiraia.”

  She kept her eyes locked with his, and though she didn’t speak, she lent him strength through her gaze. He loved her more than ever in that moment, even if this was backwards—he should’ve been able to hold his shit together without needing to draw comfort from her. He was supposed to be support her.

  Urgand stepped back and removed his gloves. “Five centimeters. The terran charts say that’s halfway there.” He frowned and looked at Shay. “How long you been having contractions?”

  “You mean the cramps?” she asked. “Since yesterday.”

  “You’ve likely in in labor since then,” Samantha said.

  Urgand’s frown deepened. “I’ll get you something for the pain.”

  “No!” Shay hissed as soon as the word was out, her body tensing. She shook her head several times. “No drugs.”

 

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