Page 103 of Sawoots Story

I can see the jealousy in Tasha’s eyes when we do our holo-vid chats. She doesn’t understand why she’s not pregnant yet, and not for lack of trying.

When I was losing my mind experiencing the Bond, it got more intense by the day. Poor Tasha. She must be going mad by now. There’s only the slightest part of me that aches for that again.

All good things in time.

Markrin shifts, closing the jar of massage oil, and lifts me gently so he can sit behind me. I lie back against his hard, reassuring body. His cock stands straight up, pressed between us, but he can hold back his need. I love the feeling of it throbbing against my back. I love knowing how much he aches for me.

“What shall we name him, my sweet?” He whispers the words in my ear. He’s asked the question twenty times.

“That’s bad luck,” I reply, the same answer I always give.

My life feels too good to be true. I keep thinking I’ll blink and wake up on theWayward Scythethe moment before a missile hits us. That my brain has devised a fantasy so incredible, so perfect, to soothe me in my last seconds.

I don’t want to jinx anything. I can’t wait to have my baby in my arms, rocking him to sleep. I look over at the crib next to our massive bed. He’s going to be the safest little guy in the world, surrounded by the three most powerful Aurelian warriors and momma bear.

Aurelians born of the Bond have colored eyes. I wonder what he’ll have, my little warrior. Well—not so little. He’ll come out the size of a human baby, on the larger size, of course, but then grow to a magnificent height. I wonder how old he’ll be when he’s finally taller than me. Ninety? One hundred? It feels so strange to think of a hundred years as still a child, but I’m starting to get used to the vast timeframe ahead of me.

Bond-born Aurelians are stronger than those who grow in the artificial womb of the cryo-chambers. He’ll be whatever he wants to be, but he’ll be honorable, and strong, and smart.

“I can’t just lie here all day. I need to shower and stretch my legs.”

“Come,”Markrin instantly telepaths to the other two of my triad, who are doing weapons training in the combat gallery.

I roll my eyes and groan. “Markrin, that’s not necessary. I know I’m safe on this station. No one’s suicidal enough to come near a Bonded triad.”

“I know, I know. But bear with me, my sweet.”

I pull myself from his arms and hop to my feet. Even this pregnant, I’m more mobile than I was before I met the triad. The Bond enhanced my body. My muscles are strong, my bones thicker, my reaction time better. It’s hard to remember how slow and weak I used to be, and I was no slouch compared to the average person.

Even colors are brighter, like a veil was lifted from my eyes the instant the Bond filled me with the auras of the three men.

I step into the bathroom. It’s all marble, ostentatious. It’s Tar’ank who always insists on spending way too much money on luxuries I don’t need. He’s brutal, but he views me as his queen, to be protected, lavished, and taken.

I take a long shower. The fragrant oils have seeped into my body, keeping my skin supple. I wash my hair, then step out, and Markrin’s waiting for me with a huge white towel. I smile at him as he wraps it around me, kissing me on my forehead.

He loves doing everything for me. With any other man, it would get annoying. Having the gorgeous, powerful warrior so devoted to me is bliss. He has this protective, dominant devotion, not wanting me to have to lift a finger when I’m carrying his child.

It could be his. It could be Garrick’s or Tar’ank’s. Perhaps in some strange way through the Bond, it will have a piece of each of them. No matter, they’ll raise him as their own.

I slip into a big, opaque dress as Markrin gets dressed. They wanted to wear combat armor on the station, but I told them it doesn’t send a good message to the residents. I don’t want people living in fear.

Instead he puts on a black turtleneck that strains over his broad shoulders. I’ve seen him eat, but he must have the best metabolism in existence because no matter how much food he puts down he stays lithe and lean, all cut abs and lines that contrast so beautifully against my own new softness.

He holds my hand as we walk out of the bedroom and into the observatory. The cold stars and emptiness of space seem less threatening now. That emptiness is about to get a little more full, with our help.

The big hallway doors hiss open and Garrick and Tar’ank enter, with rifles slung over their backs.

“I don’t need bodyguards on my own space station,” I complain, but inwardly I love the feeling of being so protected by three hulking men that no one dares approach. Men automatically look downwards when we approach. All but those twins who helped set up our weapons upgrade station, now that I think about it. I guess Patrick and Nate have been working with us long enough to get accustomed to the triad.

I’m doing my best to remember everyone’s names. I was used to being the first mate of a ship. Now I’m first mate of an entire space station, and the people look at me like I’m their ruler. It’s a strange feeling, and one I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to.

“Gods, I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Tar’ank growls, ignoring my complaint as wonder pulses through his aura. He strides to me and kisses me, shutting me up, and I giggle when he pulls his lips away.

“Yes, you are,” I answer, and he grins back.

“Where would you like to go today?” Garrick has a serious edge to his voice. I stop myself from rolling my eyes again.

“I just want to have a walk,” I say, not wanting to over-plan it. The space station isn’t massive. Well, the parts of the space station that are inhabited, at least. There are still dark recesses where engines and machinery work, damp, dark places I never go.