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As if on cue, the ship’s engines rumbled to life.
“I have some good news,” Tegan said, changing the subject without much grace and hoping to distract Zaandr.
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“You know when you said we needed more Pogs?” She scooped up Pog from where the Lycithian pet had been sleeping on the bed. “Your wish is about to come true. Pog is pregnant!”
Zaandr stared at her. “Pog is a he.”
She shook her head. “That’s what I thought, but Bexli told me that Lycithian glurkins are actually neither male nor female, and they reproduce asexually. The other day I felt some lumps in Pog’s belly and did a sonogram. Our little shape-shifting friend is expecting three babies.”
“So he is a they?” Zaandr slid his gaze to the creature, who was purring in Tegan’s arms. “Three babies? I hope they aren’t going to be staying here.” Then he grinned. “Does Tori know?”
It was common knowledge that the Zevrian made a big show about being annoyed by Pog.
Tegan grinned. “She only pretends not to like Pog. Maybe we can convince her to adopt one of the poglings.”
Zaandr grinned and ruffled Pog’s fur. “After how he, I mean they, saved us, I can’t say I’m sorry that we’ll have more.” He looped an arm around Tegan. “It isn’t as exciting as expecting a baby of our own, but I’ll take any good news.”
Tegan’s stomach fluttered. “I don’t mind the idea of being a mother myself anymore, but I’m guessing it will be a while until we have a baby.”
Zaandr pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. “I would say that’s too bad, but this just gives us an excuse to keep trying.”
She laughed and swatted at him, another flutter dancing in her stomach. “What did I tell you about needing to be able to walk?”
He pulled her down so he could nuzzle her neck. “And what did I say about being willing to carry you everywhere?”
Before she could tell him that he was being ridiculous, she sensed something that made her breath hitch in her throat. “What was that?”
“Hmmm?” Zaandr murmured into her throat.
“I felt something.” Tegan’s heart raced. “A pulse of emotion that wasn’t yours.”
Zaandr pulled back and frowned. “Another Dothvek?”
She shook her head, suddenly knowing without a doubt what she’d felt. “No. It’s coming from…inside me.”
Zaandr glanced down at her belly, his jaw dropping. “I thought you said…”
“I guess I was wrong.” Tears choked Tegan’s voice as the certainty sunk in. She was carrying Zaandr’s baby. “I hope you’re ready to be a dad.”
“More ready than you can imagine,” he husked, before capturing her mouth in a kiss that made her stomach do another happy flip.
Epilogue
Rixx groaned as he woke. His head throbbed, and his side twinged as he attempted to raise a hand to his temple. Breathing in, he was startled not to be inhaling bitter smoke. His last memory had been of breathing in acrid air that seared his lungs as he stood on the windowsill. Zaandr had left on Pog’s back. He’d felt the building rumble beneath his feet. He’d made the split-second decision to leap from the window. Then everything behind him had exploded, and his world had gone black.
He gingerly opened his eyes, expecting to see blackened rubble overhead. Instead, there were the pristine, wooden beams of a low ceiling. Not burned and not collapsed. There was no hint of a fire, and the only aroma was that of something savory. His stomach rumbled in response.
Had he imagined the fire, and Zaandr rescuing him with Tegan and a very different looking Pog? Had that been some sort of fever dream? Was he still being held by the Zevrians who enjoyed coming in every so often and beating him? Had he passed out from the pain? Was he dreaming this?
If so, he much preferred this dream to the one in which he feared the heat of the nearing flames. In this dream, there was a soft voice humming and a warm blanket covering him. Rixx sighed deeply, sinking further into the dream, and hoping it would never end.
“You shouldn’t move too much. We don’t want your wounds to tear again.”
His eyes opened as the face of a female came into view. A human female with dark hair braided and wrapped in a bun on top of her head. He didn’t recognize her or understand why he would insert a mystery human in his imaginings. Then he attempted to sit up and pain shot through him. He collapsed back onto the bed with a gasp. This was no dream.
“You aren’t a very good listener, are you?” The woman made clucking sounds of disapproval as she touched her hands gently to his side. “If you try to move too much, you’ll open your wound, and you’ve already lost too much blood.”
