Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I did not either, until just now.” He wraps his arms around me, dragging me back down against him. “You know what this means?”
“That we made a baby?”
R’jaal grins. “We did.”
I play with this in my head as I lay in his arms. A baby. We’ve made a baby. We’re going to bring a new life into this world. I wonder if I should be panicked that I’m now pregnant, but all I feel is relief. It’s the silent validation I didn’t realize I needed. I am a real person. Just because I’m a clone doesn’t mean that I’m somehow less, or imperfect. I can get pregnant like anyone else.
I have a mate. We’ve made a child together. We’re going to have a family.
“You are quiet.” He strokes my cheek. “What are you thinking?”
I lift my head and give him a playful smile, my heart light. “I’m thinking blow jobs must be lucky. We’ll have to do them more often.”
R’jaal laughs. “That is what you are thinking? Are you not thinking about the kit, then? Are you not happy?”
I move up and give my mate a kiss. “I am ecstatic. It means everything.”
And it does. Because it means R’jaal and I are truly meant to be together.
Epilogue
Several Days Later
R’JAAL
I’rec might be the pushiest person on the beach. He acts as if no one has ever resonated before he and F’lor sang to one another.
I watch, amused, as the final preparations are put into place for the feast we shall have this night. The feast, it seems, that I’rec has decided is necessary to celebrate his resonance to F’lor. Shail runs past with a pot full of food, while another female—one of the new ones—claps her hands and points out things that need to be removed from the fire. “It’s important that we get these dishes right, guys,” S’brina calls out. “They need to feel like a Not-Hoth version of a Filipino wedding feast. Who’s got the riced not-potatoes?”
“Vivian does,” someone else calls out.
“No I don’t,” the female replies.
“Well, someone has to have it! Hurry! They’ll be back soon!” S’brina races off, a fretful look on her face.
As she rushes away, one of the new taters watches her move. It is the one with scales—S’karr. He is not my favorite. He is a sly one and does not take orders well, which means he clashes with nearly all the hunters trying to teach him the basics of survival. He eyes the female’s backside as she bends over to pick something up.
Annoyed, I move to stand next to him. When I cross my arms, S’karr just gives me a lazy smirk. “Don’t get your horns in a twist. I know not to shit where I eat.”
I was not going to speak of his personal habits. “The females are safe here,” I stress. “Resonance—”
S’karr holds up a clawed hand. “I know. Trust me, I know. I’m waiting for resonance. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the scenery.”
“Some have to wait for a long time,” I say stiffly. I do not like his attitude.
“I won’t.” He leans against the rocks and eyes a dark-haired female that passes by with equal interest.
Perhaps it is his confidence that irks me. I had to wait a very long time for my resonance, and I do not regret a moment of it because it brought me R’slind. Still…a small, bitter piece of me hopes it takes him turns upon turns to resonate.
S’karr eyes me, chewing on a needle-leaf from one of the nearby plants. “You just resonated, right?”
I can feel myself puffing up with pride at the thought of my mate. “Yes.”
He lifts his chin at me. “Where is your feast, then?”
“No feast. My mate is not from the same culture as F’lor.” A tiny sliver of worry lodges in my chest.
“But she’s human, aye?” He narrows his eyes at me. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating her? I’rec is celebrating his fine female. I would think you’d want to celebrate yours, too.”
“R’slind does not want a feast.” But…am I wrong? We have known for days that I’rec has been planning a celebration of F’lor because she desires one. R’slind has known about it for days and has not said she wished for one herself. “I know my mate. She does not like fuss.”
But what if I am wrong? What if I have misread the situation? The worry in my chest grows. Will others think that I’rec cherishes F’lor more than I cherish my R’slind? I do not think such a thing is possible. More than anything, I want my mate to feel loved and happy.
Perhaps I have done wrong after all. I feel myself sweating despite the pleasant day. “It is F’lor’s tradition. That is why there is a feast.”
“But aren’t all humans the same?” He lifts an arm and gestures at a male nearby. “Jason will know. Come here, human.”