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Rane frowned. “Yeah. It could be worth a try, but I don’t like the idea of giving my mother a year to plan some sort of counterattack.”
“Right. So, he asked me how I felt about getting pregnant.”
Rane stilled. An interesting combination of emotions rushed through him.
He definitely wanted to breed his female. And it wasn’t even a mating urge – that would only kick in after he had bitten and marked her. That was just the normal urge of a male wanting to fuck and claim his female until she was overflowing with him, and he’d left a permanent mark in her womb. He wanted that with a dark hunger.
But the idea also terrified him.
He was under adult guardianship, which meant that he couldn’t have any young. Well, he could sire them, of course. There was nothing stopping him, biologically. However, if he did have any young, his mother would be able to make a claim of guardianship.
Fathers had rights, sure, but mothers had more. So, whatever female he impregnated would normally be able to maintain custody rights on her own. However, the only female he would be impregnating was Sandy. A female who had no legal rights of adulthood. Their young, born a citizen of Levtiram, would need a legal guardian, and Elffa would be the only one available.
If that happened, he didn’t think he’d be able to ever see his own young. His mother had already forbidden his father from ever seeing him. If she had guardianship of his offspring, she’d be able to do the same thing and there was nothing he could do to stop her.
A cold chill went down his spine and he tightened his grip around Sandy. Shaking.
“No,” he said firmly, unable to look her in the eyes.
She hesitated, but her hand kept stroking gently down his tightly lowered crest to his neck. “Is this because you don’t want children?”
He couldn’t say anything. Because the answer was both yes and no. He would have adored them, and wanted dearly to father Sandy’s young, but he couldn’t. He would never get the chance, and he would never put Sandy through the pain of having her young ripped from her arms.
“Is it because of your mother?” She asked softly.
Rane winced. Because he couldn’t hide his fear of that woman. Of all the things she could take from him – and all the things he’d never even realized he had to fear before this moment.
“Rane, it’s okay.” The warmth of his mate’s lips were there on his head, kissing him gently. “You can say no if you don’t want it. It won’t happen until I restore my ovulation. We’re perfectly safe.”
He grunted but didn’t lift his head from her chest. Her warmth, her heartbeat, it was calming. He didn’t know how he’d ever lived without this before. But he knew he could never live without it again.
“Later,” he finally said. “If I ever get out of this… We can talk about it then.”
“Okay.” She was hugging him, stroking his head. “We can wait.”
He said nothing, but he was grateful. He still didn’t know if he would ever get out from his mother’s grip, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to father young until he was. He was relieved that Sandy agreed with him, but the fear kept him holding her there until the vehicle stopped in front of the salon that would be performing his next big appearance change.
***
The tattoos were made of a special ink that showed up just as blue as his crest feathers. They swept along the sides of his head and back.
And he liked them.
He didn’t just like them because Sandy had looked so excited as they were being applied and couldn’t look away from him as they rode back to the manor. Though her obvious appreciation certainly didn’t hurt his own preferences.
But when he had stood from the chair to look in the mirror, his first and immediate and genuine reaction was that he thought it looked really good. It might not be considered fashionable, but he honestly didn’t care. He loved how it looked, the edge it brought to his appearance.
The moment they were back in their wing of the manor, Sandy threw herself at him.
Grunting in surprise, Rane caught her as she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing him eagerly as she ran her fingers over the new tattoos. She had when they left if they needed special care or attention, but they had been healed within the salon. Which meant she was free to touch them – which she did eagerly.
He turned, putting her back against the wall so he could hike her legs up higher, allowing him to grind into the heat of her cunt.
“Room,” she panted into the kiss, hands running all over his body, wherever she could reach. Like she couldn’t keep her hands off him.
He loved that. His cock throbbed as precum created a wet spot at the front of his pants.
Pushing himself off the wall, he stumbled, bumping into things and nearly falling a couple times as he made his way through the manor. He grunted in pain; Sandy giggled without breaking the kiss. She didn’t even try to get down. She trusted him to carry her.
