Page 29 of Hunger in His Blood (Brides of the Kylorr #3)

CHAPTER 29

ERINA

W hen three days of nausea had passed and I still wasn’t improving, I knew something was wrong.

At first I thought that maybe I’d picked up a strange sickness or eaten something that didn’t agree with me. But then…I wasn’t so certain.

I’d lived in House Terasyn when Syndras’s daughter, Willan, had been newly pregnant. I’d served her tea every morning when she hadn’t been able to keep anything else down.

I’d never had to worry about it before because…well, Kaldur had been my first, whether he believed me or not.

I had to at least consider the possibility now, which was why I’d asked Kyndri for the morning off, so I could get a blood analysis done at the healer’s establishment down the road.

As I waited for the healer, sitting in a small, dark room that had blue wax candles lit, the smell of which made my nose twitch, I was in denial. This was just one thing I needed to discount, one thing that would soothe my worries.

Because if I was pregnant…

No, I thought firmly, pushing that notion from my mind, even when I felt the familiar flooding saliva fill my mouth, felt the nausea begin to churn in my gut.

When the healer came in, a Kylorr male with wings so large they nearly didn’t fit in the cramped room, he looked at his Halo tablet, glowing blue in the dark room.

“Positive result for implantation,” he announced. I didn’t even know his name. He hadn’t introduced himself to me. He’d been no-nonsense, taking my blood with a small prick of my finger before disappearing for mere moments.

“Implantation?” I breathed, my gut churning.

“You’re pregnant,” he said slowly, peering up at me over the rim of the tablet. His eyes were yellow. “I’d estimate a little over a month.”

The world tilted sideways, my vision going dark.

When I came to, the healer had his arms around me to hold me steady and had a cold drink pressed to my lips.

“What do you mean I’m pregnant?” I asked, my voice sounding far away.

“Just as I said. Drink,” he ordered me. “It’ll help.”

It tasted foul, but I chugged it down because I didn’t know what else to do. When the contents were drained, he said, “I’ll give you some to take with you. It’ll help with the nausea and fatigue. Is the father a human? Or Kylorr?” When I didn’t answer, he blinked, raising a brow when he asked, “Bartutian?”

“Kylorr,” I finally said, the word falling from my lips like stones as I stared, unseeing, around the room. I cleared my throat, blinking to clear my blurry vision. I realized I was crying. “The father is a Kylorr.”

A son of the Kaalium.

“Hybrid pregnancies are always more difficult,” the healer informed me. “It’s hard to pinpoint the gestation time since it’s different for everyone.”

“On—on average though?” I asked.

“Four months, give or take a few weeks on either side,” he told me. “So you’re about a quarter through already. But I must warn you, a hybrid pregnancy is rapid. It can be dangerous. You’ll need to be monitored closely and?—”

I stood. The room suddenly felt too small, and I struggled to get breath.

“I have to get back to work,” I told him. “Thank you.”

“But I?—”

I left the room, my knees wobbling. I scrambled to get outside the establishment, weaving down one long hallway until I found the entrance. When I burst through, I sucked in deep lungfuls of the morning air. I stumbled until my back was to the building, letting it support me, but then I slid down, sitting on the street as people passed by, peering at me with curious, raised brows.

I pressed my palms to my eyes when they stung.

I was pregnant with Kaldur’s child.

What am I going to do? I wondered.

At the end of the long day, my feet were aching, I smelled like cleaning supplies and spilled brew, and all I wanted was to bathe in the common washroom at Ikrin’s and forget this day had ever happened.

But I didn’t have the luxury of doing that. Especially when I turned the corner of the alley and spotted a group gathered outside of the older building, the large, burly keeper speaking with what looked like soldiers.

“What’s happened?” I asked, rushing up to the group. There was an older male who I thought lived on the floor above me, but I’d only seen him in passing. He’d only grumbled at me when I’d smiled once.

“A disgruntled renter,” he said, scowling with his arms crossed. “Broke into most of the rooms. Stole. ”

My heart froze in my chest. My first thought was my notebooks.

I flew past and darted up the stairs of the brightly lit building. My floor was off the second-stair landing, and by the time I reached it, I was huffing from the exertion, my long day, and fear.

My room door was ajar.

“No,” I breathed. I rushed inside and saw that my ordinarily neat room had been tossed. My blankets and mattress were strewn and off the frame of the bed. My traveling bag had been opened, the broken handle lying on the floor next to it, having finally given out. The contents of the bag were spilled. Mostly old notebooks, which, thankfully, hadn’t been stolen.

Relief went through me when I got to my knees and rummaged through what was left. Luckily all of them were accounted for, but some pages were torn, as the thief been less than gentle.

My heart thudded when I came across an old sketch of Kaldur. One of the pages that had been ripped. It went straight down his face, hanging in two parts.

They’d been looking for?—

I froze.

I pushed to my feet and raced to the little dresser in the room. The bottom drawer was loose. I’d wrapped the money in an old scarf.

The scarf was there, but as I dove my hands into the material, what I’d already feared became a reality.

The money was gone. All of my savings.

I cursed myself for taking it out of the creditory. So stupid, so stupid, I thought, over and over again. But it had been the account I’d used at Kaldur’s keep. I feared it might be shut down when he discovered me gone, as retaliation for breaking the contract.

I sat on the floor, in my trashed room, my heart finally beginning to slow as I faced the reality of my situation .

My only saving grace was that I’d just paid Ikrin for a full week yesterday. And I had the pay from Kyndri’s for today, but the wages would barely keep me here. It wouldn’t cover food or expenses.

Especially with a baby on the way.

“Oh gods,” I whispered, tears beginning to build up in my eyes.

“You too?” came a voice at the door. The old man, huffing out breath on his way back up to his room. He was peering into my room, shaking his head.

“Have they caught them?” I asked hopefully, through watery eyes.

“Doubt it,” the man said. “This happens more than you think. Word of advice? Don’t keep anything you care about here. But you’ll learn that if you stay long enough.”

Then he hobbled up the stairs, and I stared at the open doorway in disbelief.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, contemplating what to do. But I knew I only had one choice, a choice I’d already been pondering all day once the knowledge that I was pregnant began to sink in.

Kaldur deserved to know, but it would gut me to ask him for help. I didn’t want to prove to him what he already believed about me…but I knew that this situation was outside of my control.

I would write the letter tonight, but I would sleep on it. If I still thought it was the right decision, I would post it in the morning. An express service wouldn’t cost much more, but I did have to be careful with my credits.

Pulling myself up from the floor, I grabbed one of my notebooks, flipping to a fresh page. Luckily my pencils were still here, though they’d been scattered across the floor. I hovered the tip over the paper for what felt like ages, my gut churning .

This needs to be done, I thought silently.

My pencil touched the paper.

To Kaldur of House Kaalium, Kyzaire of Vyaan, I began.