Page 27 of Bred By Fafnir

It doesn’t sit right. My mind aches and spins long after I retire to the bedroom for the night. I spend it staring at the vaulted ceiling, seeing nothing except the unmarked mound of dirt that covered Dad.

He’d had loads of love and support. Just not enough credits for the fancy machines to work on him, to fix his mind, or at least ease it. Not enough backing to show we could afford a credit loan. He had so much more than Fafnir.

And he ended up dead despite it.

Something terribly familiar seizes my chest, the gnawing, aching helplessness I’d felt in the days after Dad told us he hadn't been feeling himself. The way mom cried as she emptied their small savings to have him seen by a human doctor there on Terra2. After my sister found him dead, a blaster shot to the face in his shed out back. I still didn't know how he got his hands on one.

I'm up and out of bed before I can think better of it. Before I can keep the lines we've drawn in the sand firmly in place. My bundle of furs dragging the slightly uneven ground as I pad quietly over to where Fafnir’s huge form rests on the couch. I stand there for a minute, realizing I’ve never really considered the fact that he actuallyslept. A male like him seems above silly needs like that, which is ridiculous in hindsight.

My movements are slow and deliberate as I lay out a tiny bed of fur on the floor beside him. The fire dimmed so he can rest. It still wards off the cold just fine as I settle into my makeshift bed. Telling myself everything will be fine; any child will still be cared for and their world… while unfair and cruel, is the lesser of two evils compared to the plight of humans. I tell myself Fafnir is okay. That he'shere. That he's stronger than Dad, but then I wipe that thought away completely. It feels like a betrayal. I go to sleep fitfully, my hand on my empty stomach, and tell myself my worries and tears will be gone by morning.

They weren't gone, but with the daylight came reason. Determination. I held onto it as I awoke back in the plush bed, the smell of pizza in the air, and a suspiciously Fafnir shaped divot unoccupied beside me.

nineteen

Fafnir

The past few weeks have flown by, each one going over smoother than the last. We settle into a routine, and while my mate’s purpose here is to become heavy with our child, I haven’t touched her in that way again. Much to her apparent displeasure. We wake, weather permitting, she joins me to check on the Sihlih who bed down heavily during this time and require little tending unless they are needed for something. We spend our long nights and heavy evenings doing whatever odd exercises she insists I do.

For the most part, I play along because it seems to please her. My strange, pretty female chews her lip, taking the notes she safeguards as furiously as a Thraxis mother with her cub. I haven’t asked, but it takes no great mind to figure out it regards the affliction in my mind. As much as her constant vigilance of it shames me, whatever she’s doingseems to ease the worries that plagued her. So, I swallow what little pride I have left and breathe deeply; I count to ten and pay attention to each of my senses until the red fades and the world comes back into order.

I draw the line when she asks me to talk about it. The years I fought are a plague I refuse to spew onto her mind. I cannot bear the look in her eyes when she hears of the things I’ve done. When she's finished with her notes and questions, games and stories, I decline her offer to share our bed and wait on the couch. Ruddy, aching cock gripped in hand until her breathing evens out and I slip in beside her, getting restful sleep that's evaded me for years.

I'm gone before she wakes.

But she knows I was there.

The night I found her curled up on the floor beside me, I’d woken so violently I’d gored the couch with a horn. The world came back into focus slowly, keeping me half trapped in the nightmare.

I’d nearly put a hoof through her skull.

Not for the first time, I wonder if this is what my predecessors felt before they were put out of their misery. I wonder how much worse it’ll get before it’s my time to wander. I must admit, while her odd methods and tests make me feel no larger than a kit, they aren’t without merit. How much good could these…calming exercisesdo for the next male lost to his mind?

Would they even try?

No.

I wouldn't, not if it were anyone but her requesting it of me.

A sudden flurry of activity snaps my attention to Valoryx, and more importantly, my mate lounging lazily against him. Her small frame tucks into his curl, the beast's tail wrapped around in front of her like a gate. She can’t care less, her legs draped over the thicker,spike freebase. A thick batch of furs protecting her from the snow, even though she insists she doesn’t need them every time I pack her a bag, they’re always used.

Their heads pop up in unison, watching as a younger Sihlih takes off after a Zylari, a small, agile animal with pure white fur and long, fluffy ears, making it near impossible to spot in the snow. Well, until the Sihlih swipes it, sending it flying, its blood erupting onto its fur, highlighting its trail where it skids to a stop. The thing makes a pitiful cry of desperation, but my attention is on the blood, locked there for a moment, red dotting my vision until my gaze shifts to something else, like she taught me.Sight.I focus on the technique the beast uses as it stalks the animal, and how I can improve it. It’s not until the red parts and a flash of long brown hair catch my attention that my mind returns to me. Immediately, my heart slams into my throat.

Lenora is sprinting for the tiny animal, her upturned hazel eyes blown wide in panic. I bellow out a command to stop, but he’s young, willful yet. I start for her. What she doesn’t see is the large Sihlih lowered to the ground, its powerful muscles tense, ready to attack. And it does. The world slows to a panic induced crawl as it lunges. I command Valoryx to stop him because he’s far ahead of me. My mount slams into the side of the younger Sihlih, not a second too soon. A deep agonized sound of relief rips from my throat as my eyes find my bloody and unharmed mate, clutching the Zylari to her chest as if she meant to shield the fucking thing with her outstretched arm.

The rage that follows that concept will not be quelled withcalming exercises. I’m on her in seconds, bellowing at her sprawled form in the snow. Her shell shocked, confused expression makes me realize belatedly I’ve spoken in my native language. “What in Valhyr’s name were you thinking!?Vyr'ash! Ridiculous, maddening female! You werealmost killed! Lenora, if the war madness doesn’t do me in by Valhyr’s name, it will be you!”

She flinches at that, tears well in her eyes. I hate the sight of them. I let loose a bellowing roar, fisting my hands in my hair as I stalk my vision red. Struggling, trying to reclaim an inch of control. My roar only serves to make the Zylari cry out in her arms, and I watch those tears in my mate's eyes, the hurt turns to anger.

My tiny, foolish,bravemate gets up. Readjusting the bloody, pained animal in the crook of her arm like a kit, making sure it’s as comfortable as it can be before she turns that anger on me. “What am I doing!? I’m trying to keep this poor baby from being mauled to death by one of your ill-trained lion lizards!”

I only growl in response, watching as Valoryx doles out his own justice against the younger Sihlih. They are a hardy mount. He will be okay, but it will take a great deal of healing to get there. I don’t dare undermine my mount in front of the herd, knowing this is his domain. “It is a food animal! What do you think they eat?!”

“I- I don’t care! I wasn’t going to sit back and watch it happen! It needed my help!”

“It did not need your help! It needed you to let nature take its course. Itneededyou to let it die instead of forcing it to wallow in agony, the illusion of life dangling before its eyes! Is this what you think mercy is?! You are showing itnone! It’suseless,Lenora!”

Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I know I’ve said something wrong, that perhaps in my anger, I’d forgotten we were fighting about the Zylari.

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