Page 92 of Farborn

We can now spend the rest of our lives here, on Pfahrn, with my family by birth and our new adopted family. We can all raise our children together. I suspect Simon is already planning on how soon they can have another, while I might be lucky if Davies does not kill me in my sleep after this.

His pained groans rip at my soul. I nuzzle the side of his neck. “Ask them to help you with the pain, love.”

“No, Igotthis, dammit,” he gasps between rounds of pushing.

Ah, my stubborn, stubborn man.

I would not have him be any other way.

* * * *

Davies

Holy shitballs.

If Mom were still alive, I’d give her a huge damn hug and an apology for what I obviously put her through giving birth to my ass.

I mean,seriously.

After another contraction eases—one which feels like it’s pulling my guts out—I collapse back against Olarte. Simon made it through his delivery all right. I know I will, too, I just need to breathe through it.

Won’t deny I’m scared. Fuckingterrified.

Not just of giving birth, but of the fact that I’m going to be aparent.

I can’t evencook! How in the holy hell’s brains am I supposed to take care of ababy? Who thought this was a brilliant idea?

Olarte nuzzles the side of my neck. “You will be an amazing father, love. I have all faith in you.”

“Glad one of us does,” I mutter.

It stings that his family isn’t exactly thrilled with me as Olarte’s mate.

They haven’t outright said that to me, but I feel it through my connection with Olarte. Not to mention, there is such a drastic difference in my dynamic with Mohrn and their family…

Well, okay, most of Mohrn’s family now are humans, because Mohrn’s biological family are either in jail, or dead, or died in jail.

That’s a long and complicated story that makes my relationship with Olarte feel completely boring and mundane in comparison.

I mean, itseriouslydoes. You have noooo idea.

Olarte and I completely agreed not to interfere when H’looder offered to tweak things for us with our baby, to try to genetically engineer them to ensure they would not be ishblane.

If our baby is born ishblane, then they are, and we will still love them just as much.

I lose track of time as I lie there in the water, cradled in Olarte’s arms. They periodically run more warm water into the tub so I don’t get chilled, and bites me three more times to help me orgasm, which helps move the process along.

I manage to give them a handjob in between pushing, despite them telling me they’re all right, because I feel a little guilty they willingly chose to not even masturbate over the last thirty weeks. I told them I didn’t mind if they wanted to. I even volunteered to help them.

Did I mention I love the hell out of them?

I might look back on my life and question some of the things I did over the years, some choices I made.

One thing I will never question or doubt is falling in love with Olarte and being with them.

I don’t miss working like I thought I would, either. I’m looking forward to being planet-bound and spending every night in bed with my mate.

Finally, a series of contractions harder than any before arrive in rapid succession, and then we’re greeting our child.