Page 31 of My Monster, My Choice

I squeeze Christina’s hand and while she’s looking at herkishrenwith her heart in her eyes, there’s something else there. It’s in the way she unconsciously nibbles her lip.

Something else worries my mate. Perhaps she too has fear over knowing there are much more vicious aliens in the world. Maybe she worries that I’ll forget her when I leave.

I might have made a mistake in thinking that Christina would see how perfect the last six lunar cycles were with us mated. Was it too much? Was she going through the motions, expecting the ball to drop?

Is she worried about her younglings? Us? Does she fear our relationship standing on its own without needing to fend off the president? All I can do is warily feel things out.

“You have greatkishren,” I murmur.

“I know. I’ve been blessed.”

For a moment she looks saddened. So perhaps this new problem does have to do with Tera and Kenny.

“You know, if Christina gets pregnant, yourkishwould have a niece or nephew older than her,” Daphne says to me.

Christina freezes at the seemingly harmless words. Everyone else chuckles and I force myself to relax my worry over her and stroke her back. Does she think I might not be comfortable with that?

“It should be fun in school. Relion’s son—announcing he’s come to pick up his uncle from the playground after school,” Lyssa says.

Another round of snickers.

“I’m still waiting for Relion to call Elex daddy,” Anya teases.

“Not happening,” Relion growls, as everyone chuckles with laughter.

“Aww, come on,son,” I say. “They’re just messing with you.”

Everyone laughs harder at Relion’s glare, including Tera who turns his head toward her and deposits a kiss on his mouth.

“It’s okay, babe,” Tera murmurs. “In a couple years, our child will call Elex grandpappy.”

I can’t help the smile that stretches from ear to ear. “But I don’t mind that.”

From Christina’s pale face, I suddenly know what the problem is.

My mate doesn’t wantkish.

ChapterEleven

CHRISTINA

“It’s okay, babe,” Tera murmurs cheekily to Relion. “In a couple years, our child will call Elex grandpappy.”

“But I don’t mind that.” Elex’s grin is huge. He obviously wants his own children. My heart sinks, suddenly as cold and heavy as stone.

He squeezes my hand and I smile at him, trying to pretend everything is normal but the truth is I’m kind of numb at the turn of events. Why didn’t I think of this? Everyone assumes Elex and I will soon get pregnant along with Tera and Relion…and no one knows I can’t have babies of my own.

I’m not sure why it never dawned on me that he would want children—of course the Adroki are on Earth to find mates to procreate with. That’s the whole point of the Match Program. Elex is going to want one of his own…and as much as I want to, I can’t give him that. I can’t give him that because of the horrible event that led me to marry Tera’s father. The event that creeps into my memory, despite the laughter and bubbling joy around me as people try to release the tension from President Montgomery’s capture and the close call we all had. People so desperately want to return to happier thoughts when tragedy strikes, unlike me, who returns to darker thoughts when happiness hits.

“Christina! Get up from that bed this instant!” My father stands in the doorway, watching me with panicked eyes. My mother peers from behind him.

I groan, my body shivering with chills as I clutch my belly. It should feel empty—they made me abort the baby. It was for the best, I know that. I have to know that; there’s no other choice. I should feel relieved that I won’t have to live with the stigma of being a loose woman anymore. No one will know. But instead, I’m being punished. I’m bleeding, and shivering, and so weak my heart pounds at the barest amount of exertion, like even trying to stand.

Father’s rigid at the foot of the bed, his face white. It’s not anger, though he blusters as though it is. No, it’s fear. I think he can see how clammy my skin is, how my hair is plastered to my head, my face wrenched in pain.

He pulls the sheet down and mother gasps. I’m lying in a puddle of wet—bright red, thick blood. Fresh blood.

“We have to call the doctor,” she says.

---