Mine.
“Wow,” he says as his bright red blood fills the tube. “It stings, but it’s super cool to watch it fill up!”
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.”
“I claimed you,” I argue.
“But…”
Turning, I face her, my face screwed up in anger. “Who else would care for him if not us? Breccan? Lyric? He trusts us. No one else.” I scrub a palm over my face. “What if he is frightened with them? He laughs when he’s with me.”
Her features soften. “I’m sorry. You’re right. If you want to adopt the little one into our family, I support that decision. As long as he wants to be with us.”
“He does,” I assure her. “Now where is my mortling?”
She smirks, but goes along with my possessive need to protect and care for the mortling. “He’s napping in his room inside. We probably have a few minutes to ourselves. I’m not sure when we’ll get another one alone.”
It takes my cock only seconds to realize her insinuation.
My mate wants me.
Now.
Her giggles undo me when I start yanking at her minnasuit. I manage to drag it off her supple body before I take my next breath. Then, I shed mine as though it’s diseased. When she’s naked and waiting, I grab onto her fleshy rump and lift her. Her legs wrap around me as my lips crash to hers.
“Avrell,” she moans, her fingers tugging at my hair that’s growing out each solar. “Fuck me.”
This woman maddens me.
Gripping my cock with one hand, I line myself up with her slick cunt and push into her with a hard thrust of my hips. She cries out, her entire body trembling at the intrusion. As I drive into her like a man crazed, I suck on her jaw and neck. I force a finger into her mouth and my cock swells when she sucks on it. It gives me ideas for her mouth and my cock that we’ll absolutely have to try later. When my finger is good and wet, I bring it to her rump. Retracting my claw, I rub at the cute button between her cheeks.
“I want to explore this hole,” I rumble against her throat. “Relax and let me in, stormy one.”
She whimpers but obeys me. Slowly, I ease my finger into her hole. I decide my cock will fit here one solar. I’ll make it fit. As I thrust into her, I finger this other hole, pleased at the way it stretches and clenches.