Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Anger surges up inside me. “We are not Kevins. Nobody forced her.”
“Good,” he says with a breath of relief.
“Grace is prickly,” I admit. “But I think we’re wearing her down. I think she will grow to like it here—to like us.” I kick at a stone near my feet. “She wants to give us the mortling after it’s born. But doesn’t a mortling need a mother?”
Breccan grumbles. “My gut tells me they do need a mother, but I also know our people are caring and nurturing. There’s still so much we don’t know about the aliens. If she doesn’t feel the instinct like the other alien females do, we cannot fault her, Jareth. She’s frightened. If it is her decision to give the mortling to you two, then I know without a doubt you’ll take care of it.”
“It’s a part of Sayer. I already love it.” I smile thinking about holding the sweet thing that looks like part of Sayer and a part of Grace.
“You want my advice on where to go from here?”
I nod rapidly. “Please.”
“Since they’re going to have physical needs ongoing until she gives birth, I suggest the three of you sit down and talk. Explain your feelings. I can bet that Sayer has similar confusion warring inside him too. Maybe the three of you can work out something when you’re alone. A test. If she’s in agreement, then continue more intimacy between the three of you. Grace has no one. She’s all alone on an alien planet. You two can be there for her. Together. I feel like these things have a way of working themselves out.”
“This could fail miserably,” I grumble. “The worst possible outcome is that Sayer would realize he cares only for Grace and then I’m left all alone.”
Breccan gives me a soft smile. “Or, it could succeed and then you’re no longer two mates, but an entire family.”
My heart does a jump in my chest, loving that concept more than I’ll admit out loud. Now that he’s mentioned it, I can’t help but let hope fill me up to the brim. Hope is a filthy word on Mortuus, but I want to roll around in that word and cover myself from nog to claw in it.
9
Grace
The morning after wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.
I’m the first to wake up. Or well, the baby—mortling, I remind myself—is. Though feeling it move in my stomach has become an ordinary occurrence, there’s always a moment before full consciousness where I forget where I am and that I’m pregnant. Then the little one inside me moves, almost like a ripple at first. A wave from the inside out. A reminder that I’m not alone. Not like I used to be, anyway.
I press a hand to my stomach and feel it bump around inside. Good morning. It’s hard to maneuver to my feet, considering the bulk of my weight now resides in my stomach, but I manage it with a few groans and protestations from the mortling. My stomach growls and I’m so distracted by the thought of breakfast that I momentarily forget there are two naked aliens in bed behind me.
Sayer snores in his sleep and I spin around to find them wrapped around each other, their arms and legs intertwined until they are one being. I stare at them with one hand resting on my swollen belly and even though I’m carrying their child inside me, I can’t help but feel as though I don’t belong.
Their pale limbs are wrapped so tightly together I can’t differentiate between whose belongs to who. Sayer’s face rests in Jareth’s throat. When one of them shifts, the other makes room, like an ocean tide, ebbing and flowing. Natural. There’s no denying that they are meant to be mates. Made for each other.
So where does that leave me?
Before they can wake and answer the question, I turn and leave them alone. I don’t want to discuss what happened any more than we already have. I think Jareth wants to keep me around based on our conversation while Sayer slept, but I’m not entirely convinced it isn’t just to make sure I don’t run off with the baby. Besides, they seem so happy together, so complete. They don’t need me to screw things up.
I eat alone, unable to say more than a few words in greeting to the other couples sharing their breakfast. Emery is pale, but her face is alight with happiness as she nurses her newborn blond-haired son. I decline Molly’s invitation to join the three pairs and instead retreat to my room with my plate. It’s yet another place where I don’t fit in. They all have a pair and even though I’ve never wanted to be the other half to complete someone’s whole, it’s hard not feeling left out when I so obviously am.