The reality of it was starting to sink in, layer by layer. There was a baby growing inside her. Selik’s baby. A tiny person who would be part human, part Cire, entirely theirs.
Terror and joy warred in her chest.
She wanted this. God, she wanted this. She’d grieved the loss of motherhood years ago, had accepted Anya as the only child she’d ever raise. The chance to have a baby—her own baby, created with someone she loved—felt like a miracle.
But she was terrified too. Terrified of complications, of losing the baby like she’d lost so many possibilities before. Terrified of what it would mean for their family, for Anya, for Selik. Terrified of the responsibility and the vulnerability and the sheer enormity of bringing a new life into this strange world.
She walked home slowly, taking the long route along the waterfront. Jarrek was working at the docks and waved to her as she passed. She waved back automatically, wondering what he’d think when he found out. What everyone would think.
The human woman got knocked up by her Cire mate. How scandalous.
Actually, given the nature of frontier colonies, it probably wouldn’t even register as gossip-worthy. People came to places like Tillich Two to escape judgment and build new lives. A hybrid baby would barely merit comment.
The house was quiet when she arrived. Anya wouldn’t be back from her afternoon studies for another hour, and Selik was still out on the boat. Mikoz was with Liara, probably terrorizing her with his newfound climbing abilities.
She sank onto the couch and stared at nothing.
She needed to tell Selik. Obviously. This affected him as much as it affected her. But what would he think? Would he be happy? Terrified? Some combination of both? He’d lost a child before. A daughter he’d loved and mourned. The grief still shadowed him sometimes, visible in the way he held Mikoz too tightly or checked on Anya one extra time before bed.
Would this baby bring him joy or remind him of everything he’d lost?
And Anya—how would she react? She was just starting to settle in, to accept Selik as part of their family. Adding another child to the mix might disrupt that fragile peace.
She pressed her hands against her still-flat stomach and tried to feel something—any indication that a tiny life was growing there.But there was nothing except the familiar queasiness and bone-deep exhaustion.
“You’re already causing trouble,” she whispered to the baby. “Just like your father.”
The front door opened and Anya walked in, dropping her bag with casual disregard for where it landed.
“I’m home! What’s for—” She stopped, studying Corinne’s face. “You look weird. What’s wrong?”
“I need to talk to you about something.”
Anya’s expression immediately closed off, tension visible in her shoulders. “If this is about Jarrek, we’re just friends. I don’t care what?—”
“It’s not about Jarrek.” She patted the couch beside her. “Sit.”
Anya sat warily, clearly braced for bad news. “Did something happen? Is Selik okay?”
“Selik’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” Mostly. “I just… I found out something today and I wanted to tell you before I tell Selik.”
“Tell me what?”
She took a breath, held it, let it out slowly. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hung between them, heavy and irrevocable.
Anya stared at her for a long moment, her expression cycling through surprise, confusion, and something that might have been calculation.
“Like… actually pregnant? With a baby?”
“Yes.”
“Selik’s baby?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Anya processed this, her brow furrowed. “I didn’t know that was possible. You and Dad tried and it never worked.”
