Page 72 of Evan and the Alpha

22

Evan

Kicking my family out of our house was probably a good idea, but Sobek can’t quite make good on the part of his promise about me not seeing them without his permission. Or, well, them not seeing me, maybe, without getting his approval.

Because I have to go to the ship sometimes. That’s where Min and all the medical equipment is. And that means, if I want to keep an eye on how our baby is doing, I have to go over there every now and then.

And since that’s where my family has decided to hole up, that means I run the risk of bumping into them.

Granted, I haven’t seen them every time I’ve been over. Min wants me to come for tests every one to two weeks right now, and I’ve been going every week, because I’m anxious about the whole enterprise. Min’s testing and the ultrasound and listening to the heartbeat are all really reassuring. Our baby is just fine.

And not a monster.

That comment is the parasite, the word burrowing under my skin. It’s lodged there, burning at me, and I hate it. Hate the very idea.

I wonder if that’s how Mom felt about any of us. About me. I can’t imagine it. Sure, Sobek’s not … human …

But to call him a monster?

I guess he looks like a brute. And he can be violent. And I guess I was a bit scared of him at first too.

But he hasn’t hurt me yet. He hasn’t killed me yet. If he wanted that, I’d be dead.

I guess I get Mom’s concern that, like, it’s not physical or whatever, but …

Why can’t she just believe me?

I guess because she’s been there, been inside an abusive relationship, and she knows all the excuses she’d make. All the justification.

It’s not like that with Sobek. It’s not … not abuse if I ask for it, right? If I want it. If we talk about it first, if I give up my autonomy and let him make decisions for me and shit because I … like that? Want that?

I don’t know. I feel really cared for when he does it. And, like, he consults me first, it’s not like he just goes and does. I feel like, if I wanted to make a choice, then he’d let me. I mean, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t be happy about it.

Maybe I am just deluding myself.

I pause and glance up at the underbelly of the ship, shining bright in the daylight. Both suns are up; I can feel my skin prickling under the heat. The air’s shimmering, that’s how hot it is out here.

With a sigh, I plod on up the stairs to the boarding door. I swipe my keycard to let myself in.

The air in here is cooler, almost chilly. I shiver and rub my arms. My footsteps echo down the empty hallway, metallic, and I hope I don’t bump into Mom or Dad.

I get lucky; neither of them are anywhere to be seen.

Vince, however, is waiting for me outside the med bay. “Hey,” he says when he sees me. He eyes me warily, almost surprised.

I glance down. Yeah, I guess he’d be surprised. It’s been, like, six weeks since they landed, and three-ish, maybe four, since Sobek kicked them out. I don’t think Vince has seen me since that happened. He’s been spending a lot of time with Yafir.

I’m really grateful for Yafir; he’s really helped a lot with Rex, who is … teething or something? My hand’s covered in chew marks, at any rate. To be honest, I didn’t think crocodiles teethed, not like humans, but Rex has more teeth and he’s definitely interested in applying them to stuff now. Everything ends up in his mouth, and I’m pretty sure he’s ripped open some stuffies and destroyed a set of plastic blocks that someone found on board the ship.

Still, Vince and I haven’t crossed paths much. Everyone’s been pretty good about respecting Sobek’s “Evan and Darwin are the only humans in the house” rule. Yafir usually takes Rex and meets Vince somewhere. I wonder if the beta has his own place.

At any rate, it’s been like almost a month since Vince laid eyes on me, and I’m almost halfway through my pregnancy now, so I’m starting tolook … well, pregnant, I guess.

“Hey,” I say to Vince, returning his wary look. He seems innocuous enough, but I don’t know. Maybe Mom sent him as a diplomatic envoy or Dad’s using him to spy on me or some shit.

Vince blinks a couple of times. He has to force his gaze to my face. “You, uh. Look …”

“Round?” I ask, quirking a brow.