Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
All I can do is stare at the boy named Kevin who’s more mort than man. Could it be that I am to be his father since he doesn’t have one? At first, I think maybe that would be strange when he’d be better suited to stay with someone like Molly or Willow, but then I think about how Breccan took Hadrian in like a son.
They weren’t blood, but Breccan is Hadrian’s father.
It’s decided.
The mortling is mine…and Zoe’s.
“Pull it out now and use this device to heal yourself,” I explain to the mortling. “Inside are tiny little things called microbots. They heal you quickly.”
He holds the device to the tiny pinprick of blood and depresses the button. His gasp of shock makes me chuckle.
“Now take a dropper and let’s put some on one of the new rabbawolf slides,” I instruct. “Let’s see what happens.”
The mortling obeys and I’m proud of how quickly he picks things up. A true doctor in the making.
“Look, Avvy,” he says with an excited shriek. “It’s doing the same thing!”
I don’t correct him on the wrong way he says my name. Truth is, I’m kind of fond of it.
“You’re right,” I murmur, amazed at the way the rabbawolf blood clings to Kevin’s blood, coating it in its essence and creating a barrier around it. “You’ve officially created the immunization too, though I’ll have to test it many more times before I’ll feel comfortable trying it on you. What do you have to say for yourself, Dr. Kevin?”
He laughs again, the sound contagious. It makes me wonder if the boy ever laughed before now. Thoughts of those cruel alien men hurting my mortling have my sub-bones cracking loudly.
“Why do your bones pop when you’re mad?” he asks, no longer smiling.
“It’s a physiological response when a mort feels the need to protect someone, be it his family, friends, mate, or home.”
“Who are you trying to protect?” he whispers.
“All of them,” I say, “but right now, I was thinking about the ones who hurt my little mort.”
His nog bows. “I was scared, Avvy.”
“I would have been too.”
“You would have?” he asks, fat tears welling in his eyes. “But you have fangs and claws.”
“And I have sub-bones that pop when I’m afraid of losing the ones I care about. Fear isn’t a bad thing, mort, you just have to learn to control it. If you let it control you, you’ll give power to the ones who’ve hurt you or could hurt you.”
“I wish I had sub-bones.” His bottom lip pouts out. So rekking cute. “It’s kind of like a warning to mean people not to mess with you.”
“Maybe Oz can make you your own warning device.” I lift a brow. “What do you think about that?”
He nods rapidly. “Avvy?”
“Yes, Dr. Kevin?”
His smile is immediate. Who knew seeing this mortling smile would fill me with such joy? I want to ask Breccan many questions about his early days with Hadrian.
“When we get to the Facility,” he asks, his smile fading as worry shines in his eyes, “will you protect me until I get my claws?”
I pull him to me for a fierce hug, the need to comfort him overwhelming. His tiny, frail arms hug me tight around my middle.
“Until then, after then, and always,” I assure him. “Now let’s go give Zoe the good news.”
* * *
“Stop looking at me like that,” Zoe grumbles as she loads more supplies onto the ship.
“Like what?” I demand. “Like you risked your life on your death mission?”
She rolls her gray eyes and waves me off. “I didn’t risk my life. I was doing what was necessary.”
“Hmmm.”
Though I was angry when I found out she went hunting, I am a little pleased that she was successful. It was dangerous—it still is considering what she managed to wrangle up—but something that will help us in many ways. It’s because of my selfish need for curing the people on this planet that I let her slide.
For now.
“I think that’s it,” Zoe says as she drops the last of her medical supplies in the storage room. “We’ve gathered everything from Exilium we’ll need. All we need to do now is grab our people and go.”
She makes it sound easy.
As though wheeling them out of the Medical Bay and into the ship bay will be easy. I suppose it’s better than dragging them through the tunnels. A far shorter walk.
“Where’s my mortling?”
Her brow arches. “Your mortling? We didn’t make one yet.”
My cock reacts to her words. The idea of impregnating my female makes me ravenous for her.
“Our other mortling,” I say. “Dr. Kevin.”
She laughs. “He’s not yours.”
Stung by her words, I turn and begin rearranging the supplies so that none of it falls during travel. When I feel her palm on my back, I tense up.
“Avrell,” she murmurs. “You can’t just claim him.”