Warlord's Baby: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 5) Page 6

  He nodded and motioned to a medic in the room. Done.

  “How long will I be stuck in bed?”

  “A day,” her husband said. “The incision is already closed and healing but you must rest or it could reopen.”

  Mercy sank back into the pillows. A day wasn’t so bad. “Okay, then let’s talk about how neither of you two knuckleheads thought to mention that I was having twins.”

  Kalen and Paax exchanged a look.

  Oh heck no.

  The suspicion that they were holding something back from her gnawed at the back of her mind for weeks but she wrote it off as being overly tired and stressed. That conspiratorial look confirmed all her paranoid thoughts.

  “You knew! What did you think would happen when two babies popped out? That I’d be too tired to notice the surprise double babies or too emotional to care that my doctor and my husband kept this from me.”

  “Little star—” Paax laid a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him off.

  “No, don’t go distracting me with that sexy voice. I’m upset with you, Paax, and I have every reason to be. I have a right to make informed decisions about my care.” Kalen opened his mouth to speak but Mercy cut him off. “Don’t you dare say a thing. Just because you wear a white lab coat does not mean you get to make decisions about me for me. That goes for you, too, Paax.”

  He opened his mouth to speak.

  Mercy held up the hand to a gesture to stop. Exhaustion rolled through her. She couldn’t fight now, as much as she—they—needed to reach an understanding on why what they did was inconsiderate, demeaning and… and… just plain humiliating, like she was incapable of making decisions for herself about herself. So much in the universe was beyond her control and usually she went with the flow without complaint. She had no say in the alien invasion that killed her father and changed Earth forever, no say in registering for the Draft and no say in who she married. She sure as a heck would have a say in what happened to her own body.

  “I’m tired, Paax. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Right now I want to hold my sons. Please.”

  “I am not tired,” Kalen said, “and I need to inform you that withholding information of the twins was done to minimize your risk.”

  Sure, now he wanted to inform her.

  Meridan arrived with a swaddled pink infant in either arm. “Not now, sweetie,” she said, brushing past her mate. The alien doctor frowned, looked as if he was about to put his foot in his mouth but thought better of it. Good.

  Mercy forgot all her worries, anger, pain, odd numbness and exhaustion. Her world centered on those two babies and their dusky pink complexions. She reached for them.

  Meridan settled one in Mercy’s left arm. Entranced by chubby cheeks and rosy lips, she gentle brushed a finger across his forehead. He had a shock of dark hair.

  Nothing should be that cute.

  Her son. He did not have a name, yet, but she knew it in her heart. Speaking it aloud would have to wait for the Naming Ceremony.

  She placed a kiss on his forehead and murmured, “I know who you are.”

  The bed shifted as Paax sat next to her.

  The second baby was placed in her right arm. “I know your name,” she said with a kiss to his soft, downy head. He smelled so good.

  He opened his vivid blue eyes and squalled, cheeks turning a darker pink.

  “I think he’s hungry, mama,” Meridan said.

  “Oh. How do I?”

  The nurse helped her arrange the baby for breastfeeding and Paax held the sleeping infant. “Is feeding safe with the meds I’m on?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “What about—” Mercy glanced over to the son Paax held.

  “We’ll feed sleeping beauty when he wakes. Double breast feeding is an advanced move. Let’s just try one-on-one for now.”

  The baby cried again. Her breast ached in response. She held him to her chest and he burrowed his face against the offered breast. A warm, wet mouth clamped down on her nipple, rough at first but easing up. Pressure released in her chest. She didn’t realize how heavy and swollen she was until the pressure eased.

  “Okay, some basics,” Meridan said. “First, not everyone can or likes to breastfeed. Some babies are biters. Some will chew your nipples up like it’s bubble gum. Mahdfel milk teeth come in early and they’re sharp. There’s no shame in bottle feeding.”

  Bubble gum. That was horrifying to picture.

  “Second, a human baby consumes a staggering amount of calories. Mahdfel babies even more so. You will probably not be able to produce enough milk for twins, so don’t hesitate to supplement with formula.”

  The nurse’s voice drifted into the general background. Mercy paid no attention. She only had eyes for the tiny, perfect being in her arms. Look at that skin, so smooth and flawless and soft. So soft. She counted ten fingers, perfect and grasping. Ten toes on two perfect feet. Two eyes. Two ears. She ran a finger over the top of his skull, careful of the soft spot and searched for horn buds. Two little protrusions waited just below the surface.

  “Does that make sense?” Meridan asked.

  “Sure,” she said absently. “When will his horns come in?” Mercy looked towards Paax.

  “Soon.”

  Full, the baby ceased feeding but did not let go of the nipple. Mercy rubbed his back, amazed at the size of him. “I guess I should be thankful they didn’t grow in utero.” Ouch.

  “Ready to switch?”

  Mercy nodded, accepting the other baby. He was slower to wake but happily accepted the nipple.

  “This one feels… different,” she said.

  “Different good or bad?”

  “I’m not sure. It doesn’t hurt.”

  “Hmm.” Meridan double checked the angle and connection, rubbing the baby’s back when he complained. “Sometimes milk production isn’t equal. Also, he’s developing his technique.”

  That made her laugh, shaking the soft flesh of her belly. She tensed, waiting for pain but only found numbness. “A signature move. I guess that’s one way to tell them apart.”

  Paax

  Exhaustion finally overcame his mate. She fought it, insisting on feeding their sons and holding them until they went to sleep, but eventually her eyes grew heavy. Her head lolled on his shoulder. The sounds of the medical bay filtered into their room. He would rather be in their quarters, in their own bed, but not even the warlord could defy the orders from the head of medicine. Mercy’s health and welfare came first, always.

  Carefully, Paax extracted himself from the bed and covered her with a blanket.

  The star pendant weighed heavily in his pocket. His plans to present the jewel to his mate had vanished when she woke and there hadn’t been to be an appropriate moment since then.

  How about now?

  He paused at the door to the room. The moment was private but he was reluctant to wake Mercy. Her rest was precious and there would be little of it in the coming weeks.

  No, he decided. The gift of the pendant could wait.

  In medical, Paax found Kalen. “Is there a problem, Warlord?”

  “I want your report.”

  The medic nodded and consulted his data tablet. Paax did not know the male well, mistrusted his youth, but had no doubt that Kalen was the most talented medic in the Mahdfel military.

  “Your sons are healthy and robust.”

  “No defects?”

  “Are defects to be expected?”

  Paax made a non-committal noise. He’d given himself a dose of the same compound that changed his brother, albeit a smaller dose. Worries nagged him. He knew how the experimental serum affected him but he did not know how it might affect the genes he would pass to his sons.

  Kalen handed the tablet to Paax. “By every measure, they are ordinary.”

  “Ordinary. Not exceptional?”

  “Did you want an honest report, warlord, or for me to kiss your ass?”

  Another noncommittal noise. The most talented Mahdfel
medic had the ego and audacity to match his extraordinary talent.

  “Exceptionally ordinary, then,” Kalen said.

  “They are small.”

  “They are within the acceptable weight range. Terrans are small and your sons will grow.”

  His little star was, well, little. Kalen did not have to remind him that Terrans were diminutive.

  “And my mate?”

  “Recovering well. It was a stroke of luck that she was in medical when the twins went into distress.”

  A warning rumbled in his throat. His sons’ survival, his mate’s life, should not have been preserved by luck.

  “Terrans are surprisingly strong for beings so small,” Kalen said quickly. “As is your mate, in particular. I’m sure we would be having this same debriefing if she had not been in medical when the twins went into fetal distress.”

  Paax doubted that. “The length of her recovery?”

  “Two days for the acute effects of surgery but she needs to rest for at least a week. Medication and the hormones Terran females produce will mask pain. She may push herself too hard too quickly and injure herself. A week of bed rest would be optimal but I suspect she will protest. No lifting. No straining muscles.”

  “And the future?”

  “I see no reason why she would not be able to have more children.”

  “Twins?” Images of his mother flashed through his mind.

  Kalen was slow to respond, which said everything Paax needed to know, really. To have another set of twins would be too risky for his mate. Even with constant medical care, the best medical care known to Mahdfel, it would be too risky.

  “What are our options?”

  “We control her fertility and implant with a single embryo when ready.”

  Paax turned the suggestion over in his mind. His twins developed from a single embryo splitting, not from two ova being fertilized. It was possible to discourage an embryo from splitting but would require some time in the genetics labs. “That is acceptable.”

  “Since we are on this issue,” Kalen said, shoulder squared and poised for a fight. “Your female must not become pregnant before I can administer a birth control shot.”

  “Of course.”

  “And she needs time to heal. Completely.”

  Paax narrowed his eyes. Was this medic screwing up the courage to forbid him from having sex with his wife? “What do you take me for? Some beast that cannot control his cock long enough to allow his mate to heal after she whelped?”

  “I believe you are a male who did not heed me the first time I gave medical orders regarding your mate. Her body suffered a great amount of stress. She needs to heal and recover. Her hormones are in flux. Terran females are susceptible to pregnancy in this stage and two such pregnancies, back to back, would be disastrous for your mate. Leave her alone until she is on birth control. Is that clear?”

  Paax held the medic’s gaze. He did not find defiance or opposition, only frankness. To the male’s credit, he did not flinch or look away. “Understood,” Paax said.

  Chapter Eight

  Mercy

  After a thorough exam, Kalen declared Mercy and the twins “within acceptable limits” and were allowed to go home.

  Home was a never-ending rotation of feeding, changing diapers and naps. Dorothy, proud grandma that she was, helped. Feeding, however, was directly on Mercy. Paax stayed closed by and demanded to be initiated into the mysteries of burping babies.

  She had no pain, which was something of a marvel. Mercy assumed she would have pain. After all, the medics sliced open her abdomen. There should be pain. Instead her muscles were stiff and her head felt as if she were in a fog, but that could be exhaustion. She grabbed sleep whenever she could, fifteen or twenty minutes at a time but the twins refused to sync their sleep cycle. It seemed as if one woke the moment the other fell asleep. And they always woke hungry, and crying out. Her breasts ached and leaked at the sound of their cries.

  Voices woke Mercy this time. She recognized the deep timber of Paax and the slightly thin, distorted voice of another male. Warlord business, not baby business. She could go back to sleep but her bladder urged her out of bed.

  Paax stood in the common room, talking to someone on the view screen. That was not unusual behavior for him and she learned to ignore the details of his position. She crept around the edges of the room to remain off camera and quiet. Normally she didn’t care if another Mahdfel saw her come and go—this was her home, after all—but her hair was a matted mess and she hadn’t showered in two days. Momma had her pride.

  “I understand congratulations are in order,” the unknown male said. “You are fortunate to have such a pretty, fertile mate.”

  Mercy paused. Did the male see her after all? Was that comment sarcastic? No, the Mahdfel didn’t do sarcasm. Literal and concrete they did, not snark.

  “Two sons are a gift from the universe. To have a brother is, as you know, precious.”

  “What do you want, Antomas?”

  “My brother alive and well but since that’s not in the stars, how about the rest of his body?”

  On the screen, a male so pale he was nearly grey held up a severed head by the hair. Eyes vacant, the head stared out of the screen. Mercy’s stomached rolled and she stuffed a fist in her mouth to prevent herself from gagging.

  “Antu challenged his warlord. He knew the consequences,” Paax said, unphased.

  “I don’t like you,” the male said.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Everyone knows you seized the warlord’s position through trickery and deceit.”

  “Guile. It’s called guile.”

  Paax’s flippant attitude enraged the male, causing him to toss the severed head to the floor and a roar. “It is an outrage that you command the largest Sangrin clan! And it is unfathomable that an honor less scientist defeated a warlord such as Omas Nawk. And it is unbearable that you defeated my brother. I will have my vengeance.”

  Paax displayed no reaction to the male’s temper tantrum. “Would it ease your suffering to know that I had no preparation or plan in place for your brother’s ill-advised challenge? Does that make it bearable?”

  The connection broke down into unintelligible shouts. Chest heaving, staring directly into the screen, the male said, “I will take all you cherish, Paax Nawk. I will have your clan. I will have the Judgment and she will flourish under a strong warlord.”

  “If you think that is what I cherish, you are as short-sighted as your brother.”

  “I will have your mate and raise your sons as my own.”

  This struck a nerve. Paax strode towards the screen. Even with one horn missing, he must have looked fierce because the male visibly flinched. “I met Antu in a fair contest because it is every warrior’s right to challenge their warlord. You can either accept this or not, I will not lose sleep on the matter but no one will say that the battle was not just. If you seek vengeance, I will hunt you down. I will destroy your and your little clan. How many warriors do you command? Fifty? And if you so much as think about harming a hair on my mate’s head, I will hunt down your blood relatives—cousins, uncles, their sons and even your mother’s people—and eradicate your weak blood from the universe. Do we understand each other?”

  Antomas breathed heavily, nostrils flaring. Finally, he nodded. “This is not over.”

  “It is for you.” Paax disconnected the call.

  He stood in silence, tension slowly draining from his shoulders and back. “I know you are there, little star.”

  Mercy came out of the shadows and into the light. “You said the cut was from sparring and of no consequence.”

  “I believe my exact words were a misstep in the training arena.” And then he smiled.

  Unbelievable.

  Wore thin from exhaustion, everything came to a head: he was never around, kept information about her health from her, kept the twins secret from her—while they were inside her, even—and now this. “You think this is funny
? I asked you what happened because I was concerned about you and you lied to me.”

  “I did not lie.”

  “Really? Because the conversation I heard tells me you were fighting a challenger while I was in the middle of giving birth to our children and then when I asked you how you were injured, you brushed it off as a misstep, like it was a sparring injury. How is that not a lie?”

  “I was in the training arena when it happened. I simply did not expound on all the details.” He reached for her but Mercy took a step back.

  “Seriously? Lying through omission is still lying. I don’t know why I should expect anything different from you, though. This is so fucking typical.”

  The curse word made him pause. Mercy never cursed. Good. Maybe he would take her seriously.

  “You are tired and easily upset.”

  “Don’t give me that line of bull. I am tired, Paax. Tired down to my bones and especially tired of you not involving me in decisions that affect our family.” Mercy sank down onto the sofa, moving stiffly. On the low table was a cup of the sour fruit tea Paax preferred.

  He lifted his chin and his back went rigid. “I refuse to have a conversation with you when you are like this.”

  “Like what? What am I like? Because you’ve never really had a conversation with me, period.” A year married and in this moment her husband looked at her like she was a stranger.

  “Emotional. Irrational.”

  “Yeah, Terrans, huh? They get their panties all in a bunch wanting to be treated with respect and like a person. So strange.” Bitter sarcasm laced her words. “This is just like you deciding not to tell me about the twins.”

  “That was for your own good.”

  “My own good, right. Can you just try see my point of view? You took a decision away from me, like I’m a child.” Mercy grabbed a pillow and wrapped her arms around it, seeking comfort from something, anything.

  “Everything I have done has been to keep you safe.”

  Safe, that wonderful catch-all Paax used to explain away all his bad behaviors. He had to claim her immediately, to keep her safe. He had to challenge the warlord, to keep her safe. He surrounded her with a squad of warriors just to keep her safe. He kept her in the dark about her own pregnancy… to keep her safe.