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Story: Feral Creed

“Because you’re older than me,” she says.

“Not that much older,” I say. It really isn’t bad. She was only twenty-one when she went into the facility. I was twenty-seven when I went in, but she went in a year after I did. So, there’s a seven year age difference.

We were all in there for varying amounts of time.

But anyway, I’m thirty-two now. She’s twenty-five.

I’m the oldest. Calix is actually the youngest, younger than Lotus, at twenty-three. Striker is thirty, and Knight is twenty-nine.

“Well, you didn’t seem to be even trying to have kids with Carla,” she says.

“Yeah, I mean, Carla didn’t want kids,” I say. “Which I was fine with, but it’s just because I don’t have strong opinions on it, I guess. If the other guys in our pack really want to pass their genes on or whatever, we should let them knock you up. I don’t really care.”

“Don’t really care,” she repeats.

I feel through the bond this does not please her. I don’t know what to do. I’d like to please her, but I don’t want to lie to her.

“I mean, I know this,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “I already know. We’re bonded. I feel things. Knight has never wanted to be a father and is pretty much convinced he’d be terrible at it. Striker’s perfectly happy without ever doing it. He was going to be a priest and priests don’t have kids. Calix… I don’t even know if he wants to be in the pack. I know this. I’m the only one who…” She trails off. She starts to chew on her thumbnail, and she’s talking even faster now. “And I don’t even know if I do. I’m still young. I don’t need to get knocked up this fucking instant, right? I could wait. On the other hand, if I wait, you’re going to be really old—”

“Wait until when?” I say. “When am I going to be really old?”

She glares at me.

“You’d be an amazing mom, Lotus,” I say. “I love the idea of you pregnant. I love the idea of us having a kid to take care of. I think Knight and Striker would actually be great dads. I actually think I’d dig it, myself. And Calix, too. It would be good. If you want a baby—”

“I don’t know!” She throws up her hands. “I feel like I’msupposedto want a baby.”

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, that sounds like Carla. She was real big on not wanting to be an incubator, saying that women are worth more than their wombs. I totally agree. And anyway, there are way too many people on the planet. We’re good. We don’t need to make more, not really.”

I feel through the bond this is not what she wanted to hear either.

“You do want to have a baby,” I say to her.

“I’m not sure,” she says. “Maybe a job. Thing is, though, I hadn’t declared a major yet when I was in college. I still didn’t know, when I lost my memory, what I even wanted to do with my life, and I don’t know that now either. It just seems so huge, you know? How am I supposed to know that?”

“Well, you don’t have to pick the right thing,” I say. “You can just pick a thing, and if you don’t like it, you can do something else. You can change your mind.”

“Right, but I don’t even know what I want to do.”

“Well, me either,” I say. “I said I wanted a job, not that I knew what kind.”

She nods at me, studying my expression. Her own brow is furrowed, like she’s thinking really hard.

I decide to level with her. “Look, baby, the truth is, I’m kind of bored.”

She gives me a little smile. “Bored?”

“Hey, if you want to get pregnant, maybe that’s it. Maybe that would cure my boredom. Maybe that’s all we need.”

“I need to have surgical intervention to get pregnant, though,” she says. “And I think being bored is a terrible reason to become a parent.”

I snicker. “You’re right. Sorry.”

She reaches out and puts her hand on my forearm. “But me too.”

“Huh?”

“Bored,” she says, nodding. “Yeah, I think that’s the feeling I have. Aimless, directionless, confused,boredom.”