Maybe I could get used to this.
“It means I survived.” My tongue is loose, and I should make them stop before I say more than I should, but the words won’t seem to come.
“Survived what?” Sayer prompts.
I roll my shoulders under Sayer’s capable hands. “Resources on Earth II are limited, even more so for undesirable or unproductive people like the poor or children. As a foster kid, I was both. I had nothing and no one. There were times when I thought I wouldn’t make it through.”
“Humans don’t take care of their young?” Jareth asks incredulously.
“As a whole, humans are more concerned with their own survival,” I answer.
“No wonder they ruined this planet before they left.”
He isn’t wrong. We ruined Earth and now we’ve ruined Earth II. You’d think we’d learn our lesson, but apparently not. “I’m not saying every human is like that. Emery is great with Hophalix. You’ve seen Aria with Sokko and how Molly feels about Willow.” My throat is tight even saying their names, but I press on. “They are great mothers.”
“What happened after you were in foster care?” Sayer asks.
“I always knew I was going to be a scientist. It wasn’t easy. I had to work like hell to afford school—which took me nearly twice as long as everyone else because I didn’t have a family to support me. I worked evenings and nights and went to school during the day.”
“You’re a fighter,” Jareth murmurs and nudges my lips with another piece of meat. I accept because I certainly don’t feel like fighting now. I’m pretty sure they could ask me to do anything and I’d agree.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when they aren’t around anymore.
“It was either fight or be swallowed up.” I wave the thought away. “Anyway, it took a few years, but I advanced rapidly in my field.”
Sayer’s fingers travel down my spine. His voice is a low purr in my ear that makes me shiver. “What about relationships? You didn’t want a mate?”
“There was no time,” I answer. “Just because I finally finished school and got a job didn’t mean I had to stop fighting. Science is still a male-dominated career and because I never had parents, I never really considered having a family of my own. The thought of raising a kid scared the crap out of me. Besides, there were so many children who needed good homes, the thought of having another when resources were already stretched thin seemed selfish.”
“Being a mother looks good on you,” Sayer says, his chin now resting on my shoulder and his hands rubbing the distended weight of my belly.
Jareth’s eyes are soft, endless pools of black. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
I’m not a delicate woman. I’ve never been the type of person to let my guard down, but after a half hour of being hand-fed and rubbed, I feel beautiful. Tears prick the back of my eyes.
I want this forever.
I want them forever.
And it scares me to death.
“I think your minds will change once the baby is here. Have you talked about what you’re going to name it?” There, that feels like a safe topic.
Except, now I can feel the familiar heat of having Sayer so close and the answering call from within my own body.
I want to fight it. I need to be by myself to figure out my next move, but they’ve plied me so well with food and my muscles are so lax that I can’t find the energy to make my escape.
“We haven’t—” Jareth begins.
“I was thinking Jeriah if it’s a boy and Gracyn if it’s a girl,” Sayer interrupts. “I want to include all of their parents.”
I can’t help it. I burst into tears.
Big, ugly cry kind of tears.
I hate it. I never cry.
But it’s too much, all of it.
Sayer adjusts me in his arms until he’s cradling me like I’m the baby and we move from the chair to the bed. “What is it, little one?” he asks. “Is it the mortling?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I sputter between sobs.
Jareth sits beside us and wraps Sayer and me into his big arms. I’ve never felt safer and more cared for in my life, which only makes me cry harder.
Sayer kisses the tears off my cheeks. Then I feel the quick flit of his forked tongue on my skin, which sucks the breath straight from my lungs. A wave of pheromones surges through me and I wonder if this is what people mean when they talk about mood swings during pregnancy. If so, I much prefer the amped up sex drive to the crying mess.
Jareth’s hand tightens around me, but I don’t mind. It makes me feel wanted. Watched over.
I open my eyes and find him staring at Sayer, who is breathing heavily. They exchange a look, one that scorches my flesh, and I wasn’t even involved.