Page 14 of Hitched to the Wendigo (Monster Matchmaking #1)

Sakira

My breath hitched as another contraction rippled through me, the pain growing more intense with each passing hour. I gripped Eryx's hand tightly, my knuckles turning white as I rode out the wave of discomfort.

"You're doing beautifully, Sakira," Layla, our human midwife, encouraged. Her calm voice anchored me as I struggled to catch my breath.

On my other side, Nara, the wendigo midwife, nodded in agreement. "The little one is strong," she said, her red eyes gleaming with excitement. "Just like her parents."

I managed a weak smile, grateful for their support. The past 43 weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions. Now, after 18 hours of labor, exhaustion took over. But I was determined to bring our child into the world.

"I need to push," I gasped as another contraction built. "I need to push now!"

Layla and Nara exchanged quick glances before nodding. "Alright, Sakira," Layla said, positioning herself at the foot of the bed. "On the next contraction, I want you to bear down and push with all your might."

Eryx squeezed my hand, his presence a comfort even as worry creased his brow. "You can do this, my love," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my sweaty forehead.

The contraction hit, and I pushed with everything I had, a primal scream tearing from my throat. The pain was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, but beneath it was a fierce determination. Our baby was coming, and nothing would stop me from bringing her into the world.

"That's it, Sakira!" Nara encouraged, her voice rising with excitement. "The head is crowning!"

I barely registered her words, lost in the moment's intensity. Push after push, I fought to bring our child into the world. Time seemed to lose all meaning. There was only the rhythm of contractions, the burning stretch, and the unwavering support of those around me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I felt a sudden release. A tiny cry filled the air, and my heart soared.

"She's here!" Layla announced, her voice thick with emotion. "You have a beautiful baby girl!"

I collapsed back against the pillows, tears of joy and exhaustion streaming down my face. Eryx was crying too, his usual stoic demeanor crumbling in the face of this miracle.

"Let me see her," I whispered, reaching out with trembling hands.

Layla carefully placed our daughter on my chest, and I got my first look at the life we had created. She was perfect, a tiny, squalling bundle with a tuft of dark hair and the most beautiful mix of features I'd ever seen.

"Oh, Eryx," I breathed, tracing a finger along her soft cheek. "Look at her. She's amazing."

Eryx leaned in, his red eyes wide with wonder. "She's beautiful," he agreed, his voice choked with emotion. "Just like her mother."

As I studied our daughter's face, I could see traces of both of us in her features. She had my nose and Eryx's strong jawline. Her eyes, when she briefly opened them, were a striking green, just like mine. But there was something distinctly wendigo in the set of her brow and the shape of her ears.

"She favors you both," Nara observed, her tone approving. "A true bridge between our peoples."

I nodded, overcome with emotion to speak. This tiny being in my arms represented everything we had been working towards, a future where humans and wendigos could coexist, where the lines between our species blurred into something new and beautiful.

"What will you name her?" Layla asked softly, breaking the reverent silence that had fallen over the room.

Eryx and I exchanged a look. We had discussed names at length during my pregnancy, wanting to choose something that honored both our heritages.

"Maka," I said finally, the name feeling right on my tongue. "It means earth in an ancient human language, and unity in the old wendigo tongue."

Eryx nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Maka," he repeated, testing the name. "It's perfect."

As if in response, little Maka let out a tiny sneeze, causing us all to laugh. The tension of the long labor melted away, replaced by a warm glow of joy and hope.

Over the next few hours, a steady stream of visitors came to welcome Maka into the world. Layla, ever the practical one, insisted on weighing her before allowing too many people in .

"Ten pounds even," she announced, eyebrows raised in surprise. "No wonder you had such a time of it, Sakira. She's a big one!"

I chuckled weakly, still feeling the effects of the long labor. "She takes after her father," I said, shooting a playful glare at Eryx.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Don't blame me," he protested. "She clearly gets her strength from you."

As night fell, the visitors tapered off, leaving our little family alone. I nursed Maka for the first time, marveling at the instant connection I felt. Eryx watched us with a look of such tender love that it made my heart ache.

"I never thought I could love someone this much," he murmured, gently stroking Maka's downy hair. "Thank you, Sakira. For everything."

I leaned into him, careful not to disturb our now-sleeping daughter. "We did this together," I reminded him. "And we'll raise her together too."

As Maka grew, so did our community. The birth of a child who was both human and wendigo seemed to galvanize our people, making the idea of unity feel more real and attainable than ever before.

Maka's first year was filled with firsts. The first smile, first laugh, first tooth. Maka became a symbol of hope, a living embodiment of the future we were all working towards.

Maka took her first steps in the communal gathering space we had built, cheered on by a mixed crowd of humans and wendigos. Her first words were a mix of human and wendigo language, reflecting the blended culture she was growing up in.

As Maka grew, so did our vision for Magnus Terra. The safe passage through the mountains that we had worked so hard to establish became a bustling trade route, bringing new ideas and opportunities to our once-isolated communities.

Our healing practices, combining the best of human and wendigo medicine, gained renown throughout the region. People came from far and wide to learn and to be treated, breaking down barriers and forging new connections with each visit.

The expanded den that had started as a home for our growing family became a center of learning and cultural exchange. We hosted regular gatherings where humans and wendigos could share stories, skills, and traditions. It was not uncommon to see wendigo children learning human crafts, or human adults practicing wendigo hunting techniques.

But it wasn't always easy. There were still those who resisted change, who clung to old prejudices and fears. We faced opposition from hardliners on both sides who saw our efforts as a dilution of their culture rather than an enrichment.

One particularly tense moment came when Maka was three. A group of human separatists attempted to kidnap her, seeing her as an abomination rather than a miracle. Human and wendigo guards thwarted the attempt with quick action, but it left us shaken.

In the aftermath, as I held Maka close, trying to shield her from the harsh realities of the world we were trying to change, Eryx paced our den, his face a mask of fury and fear.

"Maybe we were wrong," he growled, his hands clenched into fists. "Maybe we're asking too much, trying to bring our peoples together. If we can't even keep our own child safe... "

I stood, shifting Maka to my hip, and went to him. "No," I said firmly, placing a hand on his chest to stop his pacing. "We can't think like that. What happened today was terrible, but it doesn't negate all the good we've done, all the progress we've made."

Eryx's red eyes met mine, filled with a turmoil of emotions. "But Sakira, if anything had happened to Maka..."

"But it didn't," I interrupted gently. "Because we have people on both sides who believe in what we're doing. Who were willing to put themselves in harm's way to protect her. That's what we have to focus on."

He sighed, some of the tension leaving his body as he wrapped his arms around us both. "You're right," he murmured. "As always. But how do we move forward from here?"

I thought for a moment, absently stroking Maka's hair as she dozed against my shoulder. "We double down," I said finally. "We show everyone that this incident only strengthens our resolve. We use it as an opportunity to bring people together, to show them that the actions of a few don't represent the many."

And that's exactly what we did. In the weeks that followed, we organized a series of community meetings, bringing together humans and wendigos to discuss their fears, their hopes, and their vision for the future. It wasn't always easy, but it was necessary.

Slowly but surely, we saw a shift. Those who had been on the fence about our efforts spoke up in support. Those who had opposed us listened, even if unconvinced.

As Maka grew, so did our community's acceptance of her and what she represented. By the time she was five, it was no longer unusual to see mixed groups of children playing together in the settlement square. Human and wendigo adults worked side by side on community projects, their differences becoming less important than their shared goals.

On Maka's fifth birthday, we held a grand celebration that brought together people from all over Magnus Terra. As I watched her run and play with children of both species, her laughter ringing out across the settlement, I felt a surge of hope for the future.

Eryx came up beside me, slipping an arm around my waist. "What are you thinking?" he asked, following my gaze to where Maka was now engaged in an animated conversation with a wendigo elder.

I leaned into him, a smile playing at my lips. "I'm thinking about how far we've come," I said softly. "And how far we still have to go."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It hasn't been easy," he acknowledged. "But looking at her, at all of this," he gestured to the diverse crowd around us, "I know it's been worth it."

The future of Magnus Terra stretched out before us, full of challenges but also brimming with potential. I knew there would be obstacles ahead, new hurdles to overcome. But looking at Maka, at the community we had built, I felt ready to face whatever came our way.

As night fell and the celebration wound down, Eryx, Maka, and I made our way back to our den. Maka, tired from the day's excitement, insisted on a bedtime story.

"Tell me again," she yawned as we tucked her into bed, "about how you and Papa met."

I exchanged a fond look with Eryx before settling in beside our daughter. "Well," I began, my voice soft with memory, "it all started on a dark and stormy night..."

I recounted our story, embellishing here and there for Maka's benefit, amazed by how much had changed. The fear and mistrust that had once defined the relationship between humans and wendigos felt like a distant novel memory.

Maka drifted off to sleep before I finished the tale, her little face peaceful in the soft glow of the night lantern. Eryx and I quietly left her room, making our way to our favorite spot on the den's outer ledge.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, gazing out over the moonlit landscape of Magnus Terra. The flickering lights of the settlement below us were a testament to how much our community had grown.

"What do you think the future holds?" Eryx asked softly, his arm warm around my shoulders.

I leaned into him, considering the question. "I think," I said slowly, "that we've only just begun to scratch the surface of what's possible. Maka's generation will grow up without the prejudices that held us back for so long. They'll be able to build on what we've started, to create a world we can barely imagine."

Eryx nodded, a smile in his voice as he spoke. "A world where the lines between human and wendigo blur even further? Where our peoples are truly united?"

"More than that," I said, warming to the idea. "A world where we face challenges together, where we combine our strengths to overcome obstacles neither of us could face alone. Think of what we could achieve with wendigo strength and human ingenuity working in true harmony."

As we talked, the future of Magnus Terra took shape in my mind. I saw great cities rising in the mountains, blending wendigo and human architecture into something entirely new. I imagined schools where children of both species learned side by side, hospitals that combined the best of both our healing traditions.

But more than that, I saw a society that valued both wendigo and human traits equally. A place where Maka and children like her could grow up proud of their mixed heritage, never feeling like they had to choose one side over the other.

"It won't be easy," Eryx cautioned, always the pragmatist. "There will always be those who resist change, who cling to the old ways."

I nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. "You're right," I agreed. "But look how far we've come already. When I first came here, I never could have imagined this," I gestured to the thriving settlement below us. "We've already achieved the impossible. Who's to say we can't do it again?"

Eryx chuckled, pressing a kiss to my temple. "When you put it like that, how can I argue?" he said. "You've always had a way of making the impossible seem achievable."

As the night wore on, we continued to dream and plan, our voices low but filled with excitement. We talked about expanding our trade routes even further, about establishing cultural exchange programs with distant communities. We discussed ways to preserve the best parts of both our traditions while creating new ones that reflected our united future.

By the time we finally went to bed, the first hints of dawn were lightening the sky. As I drifted off to sleep, Eryx's solid presence beside me and Maka's soft breathing from the next room, I felt a profound sense of peace and purpose.

The future of Magnus Terra with the human and wendigo territory was bright, full of possibilities we were only beginning to imagine. And we would face it together, human and wendigo, united in our diversity and strengthened by our differences.

Read the 2nd book in the Monster Matchmaking Series: Hitched to the Wood Nymph .