Feral Series IV: Feral Fallout (19 page)

The bulge of her breast pressed against his chest made all my blood rush to my groin. Not now. I shifted my footing to try to reposition the damned serpent in my pants.

M'yote slowly slid a palm along the curve of her lower back. “She needs to sleep,” he whispered.

"At least she isn't heaving.” I flicked my gaze to Flonn. “He's right."

Flonn nodded.

He almost seemed overemotional for a computer. Cyborgs. They are truly confusing. I grabbed the edge of the comforter and turned it back upon itself to cover my brother and our sleeping D'ena.

She burrowed deeper into his blue chest.

The little tick. I should have known she'd look perfectly matched wrapped in M'yote's arms. He was so faultless. Even his spirit was as flawless as his form. Females zeroed in on M'yote like a prized morsel. That my half-brother was. And I, well, I just got to be King. In itself, the title won me all the affection I could stomach from females before I wound up imprisoned. But what I'd give to have M'yote's strong character and sense of being. His power of elementals, though, was another issue. I didn't want anything to tempt me into shifting the powers around me. My power? I was weaker than M'yote. And he and I knew I'd take a Handler's gift, kill the microbes on our planet, and steal me a mate.

M'yote should be king.

We both know it.

"Stop staring at us.” M'yote snarled in a whisper. “You'll wake her up. We're not going anywhere."

Flonn snorted and made himself at home in my chair.

"Is she cured, little brother?"

"We won't know until she awakens. But there is something you need to know."

Alright, out with the news. I nodded and found Flonn staring.

"She's pregnant."

I could feel the color drain from my face before I turned through the lavatory's doorway and caught my ghostly appearance in the mirror.

"Whose child is it?” Flonn asked loud enough to wake the dead.

I didn't have to turn to watch Theo rise and take in her audience. The mirror's reflection was equally accommodating with what unfolded in the bed.

"I don't know whose child I carry."

We couldn't know until the day it arrived. My child? Flonn's? Or M'yote's blue little saint? Who was the lucky father? That was the least of my worries. I turned, paced back to lean in the biting doorframe, and watched my D'ena. “Everything's going to be alright, Theo. We're all going to see to it. You just go back to sleep.” And I'd decide when and if someone needed his ass kicked if he got out of line.

Flonn almost choked on his heart. Here sat my soul in all her glory, even more glorious. Pregnant. And if the child is mine. If. Whose child grew inside my soul?
My soul
. I could stare into her eyes all night and day and never tire of her.

Never wish to undo the claiming.

Never find a way to stop wanting her within reach.

Never stop worrying about her.

This must be love. What Father experienced with each of his souls. Because it can be nothing else. And it didn't matter whose child my soul nurtured. She was my
huv'ria
. Mine to love and protect.

Mine.

Theone had gone back to sleep.

I scanned the Prall brothers.

M'yote had closed his eyes and breathed shallow breaths.

Asleep.

Solvun leaned against the lavatory doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, eyeing me. “Can you believe the insanity? We all fucked her brains out. But the joke's on us. We're the ones shafted in the end.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You do one thing out of line, anything, !Dakos scum, and I'll see you never draw another breath."

That's the way it should be—Theo's mates protecting her. “I wouldn't have it any other way, King of Prall. And know I will grant you the same luxury if you dare to jeopardize my
huv'ria
in any manner."

Solvun squinted with a frown. “What's a
huv'ria
?"

Like a Prall would understand. “My soul. Theone."

Solvun's squint arched into curiosity. “Are you actually admitting you !Dakos warriors are soulless bastards?"

If that's what he chose to see. “I can't interpret your experiences for you."

Solvun snorted. “Like you interpret anything. You've got a machine for a fucking brain. Doesn't your father tell you what to think?"

That was how most cultures viewed the !Dakos.

"Would you both shut up so I can sleep?” Theo shoved off the bed, scowling. “I'm sick and miserable because of you. So, you're all going to have to learn to get along.” She focused on Solvun. “Everyone, Sol. Differences set aside. We're a team. A family. So shut the fuck up."

Solvun arched a blond brow, snorted, and turned on a heel to disappear into the lavatory.

My
huv'ria's
words resonated equally clearly around my chair.

My life had changed more than I ever imagined.

I have a soul.

Perhaps a child.

It's time to put differences aside and protect my seed, my family.

Family with Pralls. What a bizarre new concept. Beyond a father and twelve brothers, I had my own family now. Born of great joy. Merged with the enemy. I had a family. And just how would Father present this to the Council? Certainly, the Council would view this fusion of enemies as an opportunity to spy on the Prall's crown. And sending us back to Prall would be the best option for surveying the enemy as well as learning how to pilot
The Savior
.

But nothing, nobody, no !Dakos warrior would risk the life of my
huv'ria
or her child. That's what a warrior offered his soul. Protection.

Wedged between a snoring Sol and a warm M'yote, I crawled across the safest one to disturb in hopes of avoiding sex. M'yote. His firm blue body reacted regardless of my attempt to escape. But he didn't ram his stiff shaft inside me. No. He just cooed and helped me to the bed's edge.

Good thing. All his intoxicating skin rubbing every last inch of my body made me shiver. So much my nipples tattled as taut little peaks. “Thank you,” I whispered and tried to pretend he hadn't set off another round of my desire.

He smiled so serenely that every cell in my body hummed.

And I liked humming around him. So, I had my third mate. How did I get sucked into this craziness? I dropped my feet to the floor.

Clothes. Clothes. I scanned the room.

Clothes would keep their minds on formulating an escape plan.

Flonn smiled at me.

From the hard chair. “Did they make you sleep in that chair?” I smacked M'yote.

"I had nothing to do with it, D'ena. You had me pinned to the bed."

Liar. “He's part of the family. He sleeps on the bed."

"Oh no! He'll be able to strangle me or slit my throat more easily if he's on the bed with us,” Sol snarled.

Leave it to Sol to point out the obvious. I shot him a glare. “We have this saying on my home world,
if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen
. You, my dear, Sol, my bright sun, set the kitchen on fire. So, shut up and deal with the consequences of your actions."

"The sun analogy only makes a more profound statement with your starkissed-ness, my love,” he growled.

"Don't growl at me if you know what's good for you. Besides, Flonn's nanites starkissed me. And that's what made me see the sweet side of you. So, be thankful."

He beat his golden mane on his pillow and glared overhead. “I am
not
sweet!"

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I strode to the watchful !Dakos warrior and petted one of his soft cheeks. “Good morning or whatever time of day it is, Flonn."

He turned his firm chin into my palm and planted a warm ribeye kiss there.

Mmm. Just what I needed for breakfast. “I'm starving."

A wicked smile danced on Flonn's face.

Although testing the various modes of his augmented penis sounded interesting, there was nothing left in my stomach. Literally. “For food, you big lug head."

"What's a lug head?” Sol asked from beyond my shoulder.

They probably didn't want to know. I stepped toward the gaping lavatory doorway and turned to define the concept. “In reference to a male who has nothing upstairs like an empty vessel between his ears, the ears being the pot's handles."

"Oh, don't take him for that,” Sol warned. “We'll be dead in five minutes if you let your guard down."

Well, I wouldn't. I shot him a glare. “I told you to stop. He won't kill you anyway. Your nanites make me sick if I don't get a nice injection every so often. And the way you can't keep your fears to yourself makes me think you're the volatile one in this three-ring circus."

Solvun smacked his lips. “What's a circus?"

"A sideshow."

They wagged their heads.

Empty! All of those bloody skulls. “A performance of odd things. Spectacles. Where everyone pays a ridiculous amount of money to enter and view things from nothing more than sheer curiosity. It's three-ring because there are three of you! So quit trying to tame lions before they march on stage, Sol."

Sol sighed. “What's a—"

"Lions are large yellow cats that eat people,” I interrupted. “But never mind. Now, I'm hungry. Where are my chains so I can go scrounge up some bread and water?"

"
Huv'ria
?” Flonn gently called.

He sat so quietly. Like a machine. But I knew better. He'd saved me when I faced the Drod in the arena. He cared for me gently when I was with him. He shrugged off the Council when I was ill. And he brought me down to co-habitat with my Prall mates for my sake. Because he chose to. He really was my castle. His nanites marked him perfectly for me. “Yes, Flonn?"

"What is this tattoo on your belly?” He pointed at the youngling mark.

"Oh,” I smiled at everyone, ending with M'yote.

He nodded as if to carry out with our plan.

I rubbed both palms over the gray scrolling vines, stopping with the temporary tattoo circled by my fingers. “This is my body's mark telling me I'm pregnant. It's called a youngling mark."

Flonn nodded. “How long do females of your world gestate?"

Oh, just another lovely thought I hadn't pondered. Pregnancy. Growing fat. Waddling. Squeezing a watermelon out of a hole fashioned to pass softballs. “Nine solar months. Ten lunar months. That's roughly thirty-one times nine give or take a few days."

M'yote and Sol eyed each other warily. Flonn just blinked.

Were they calculating the days until someone had to help birth this baby? Somebody better be plotting my escape fast. I wouldn't be up for running as soon as I was amply showing. And trying to sneak an enormous pregnant woman away was much more difficult than wedging a skinny woman into a crack or crevice. They probably mulled over the same points. We could worry about it later. Or tomorrow. “I'm hungry."

And I didn't feel a twinge of morning sickness. With Flonn in the game plan, I'd have to work on being sick. Even if the plan entailed employing a little bulimia in the form of purging. Anything to save the baby, the mission, and my love of blue sky, warm golden sunshine, green vegetation, and a fresh breeze.

Freedom.

The chastity suit equaled a bad idea in its state of being thoroughly soiled.

I'd be puking just trying to stomach the smell. Not bad. But I enjoyed the comforts of the bed and covers. So, dear Flonn departed to find what Sol ordered. A little more than bread and water.

Sol pounced on me, thrusting his nose into my hair. “Hello, D'ena,” he cooed and kissed my neck with enough suction to draw one's heart through her jugular. “We need a plan, little tick."

Oh yes. He was strategizing. I shoved him over and tugged at his waistband.

He went right to presenting me with his engorged shaft.

M'yote scoffed and shoved off the bed.

Privacy wasn't possible with the surveillance cameras. So, I went right for his ear buried under his soft mass of hair. “I can pretend to be sick still. Long enough for us to convince Flonn the only way to help me is to escape."

He wedged the smooth head of his cock into my sex's nook and speared me through with a wicked thrust.

So damned mindboggling.

My back arched.

All I could do was gape at his intensely engrossed stare while sucking in a deep breath, perfectly impaled.

"You're mine, Theo. My D'ena. My Queen. I'll take care of you,” he thundered and began pumping his enormous cock along my still-shocked channel.

Friction. Marvelous friction. No need for augmentation.

Oh yes he could take care of me.

My body finally stretched to accommodate his size.

He tipped his hips when he hit home, nudging me into a flurry of tickle-induced gasps.

Um. Mine. Mine. Mine. But he worried about Flonn. I settled down to squirm on the sexy scratchy golden hairs of his chest, to kiss his prickly cheek until I found the firm edge of his ear. “He won't hurt me. That means us. He'll protect me. And that means emotionally. He won't hurt you. We need to use him to get back to my ship.” Gods. Just to sit up and grind his cock into a nub. But we were devising a plan. Regardless of how sticky things were literally coming between us. “Tell M'yote. We shouldn't speak of this again."

"You're right. I'll speak with M'yote telepathically.” He rolled me over and shoved my shoulders into the soft bedding, sliding between my knees. “You, my dear D'ena, are in need of some medical attention.” He shot me a wicked look and began marching sucking kisses down my throat, across the swell of my breast, to the pearl of my nipple.

Gods. He intended to kill me working the nub with his teeth.

He groaned, obviously enjoying the tightening his attention to my nipple caused along my inner channel.

I just let him have his way with me. To continue. To claim me, over and over. Because Sol was just so damned amazing the way he could make my belly turn into liquid heat. “Don't stop.” Never leave me alone. Never, Sol.

His massaging mouth wandered down to my ribs, so far he had to back out of me. “You alright, little tick?"

Did I need to smack him? “What are you doing? Get back in there and finish. Then start over."

He chuckled and fell back to my ribs, lathing lazily along the length of one, then back down to follow another one back the other direction.