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“I’m sorry. About his job,” he clarified quickly.
She nodded. “He says we owe him.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. We do.”
Silence fell between them. Sandy cocked her head, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. To address the other part of the message.
“Are you still scared?” She asked, so sweet as she pet his flattened crest.
“Are you not?”
“Of having children? No way. If there’s anything my grandmother taught me, more than sass or standing your ground, it’s how to give love freely. To nurture and protect. That comes as easily to me as breathing.”
He chuckled, resting his forehead on her belly.
He couldn’t help but agree. Wasn’t that what she had done for him? The moment she saw that he needed her help, that he needed someone, she immediately stepped into the role. She defended him, encouraged him.
Even now, she was looking out for him. She could leave, if she was willing to leave him behind. But she wouldn’t do it because she couldn’t sacrifice him to save herself.
Of course, she’d be an excellent mother. There’s no other female he could imagine trusting his young with.
In this belly. So soft and sweet. He pressed a kiss to it. Imagining life growing there. His young growing safe and warm under her heart.
He wanted it.
But the fear was still ice in his veins. It was tension in his hands as he tightened his grip. A sickness in his belly demanding to be purged.
Because he didn’t know if he could be a good father, but he knew that his mother would be a terrible grandmother. He couldn’t allow her to even meet his young. If she got her hands on them, he would never be able to see them.
“Rane…”
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, wrapping his arms around her, squeezing her close, trying to suffocate himself against her belly. Maybe end all this fear and misery. “I just…”
“It’s okay.”
“No. It’s… I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“We don’t have to do it.”
“But… it’s a way out.”
Drevor and Sandy had planned the route for him so easily. Once she had their young, they could mate and she could claim guardianship over him. After that, Sandy, not Elffa, would be the only one capable of putting in his appeal. He had no doubt she’d do it too. Not a single part of him was afraid that she would control him as Elffa did.
And, if that’s what she wanted, would he really care? He’d be happier in Sandy’s hands than he would in his mother’s.
He even knew he could trust his young to her…
But there was still that chance. That possibility. His mother was shrewd. She’d left nothing up to chance in her quest to keep control over him. Did he really think she wouldn’t try just as hard to claim his young?
And there was that period of time in which Sandy carried their young, before she gave birth, that she would be vulnerable. He couldn’t imagine his mother would just be content to let things develop. She’d do whatever she had to in order to maintain her control.
Though Rane had no proof, he was fairly certain that his mother had somehow convinced the tribunal to keep him under guardianship. Either through friendship or bribery or even just simple manipulation. She had to have done so. She wouldn’t let that risk exist if she could help it.
So, what would she do to claim his young?
“Rane, we don’t have to-”
“Can I think about it?”
