Page 30 of Saved By the Selkie

Lir

T

he days with the seal colony pass rapidly. That might be partly because we’re so far north, there’s hardly any daylight; we’re lucky if we get a few hours. It doesn’t matter much; seals can see in the dark, much like selkies can, and we settle into a rhythm, waking and sleeping when we like, diving for food whenever our bellies wake us.

Naardan is also pregnant. Quin is too young, being Naardan’s omega child from a year or two previous. I’m glad of them both; Naardan is very calm about the entire process, assuring me that I just have to listen to my body to care for my pup. Sleep when I’m tired, eat when I’m hungry. He seems confident birth is easy too.

Quin doesn’t have experience, but he’s enthusiastic about the pupping process and even more excited to see a selkie in their midst. In fact, most of the colony is curious about me. I don’t stand out too much from them—I’m a little larger than most of them, although I could simply be mistaken for an alpha seal. My silvery coat sets me apart, though, and I almost glitter in moonbeams and sunlight alike.

I sleep a lot. When I’m not sleeping, I’m diving for food, which seems scarce, although Quin is happy to share his catch with me. He seems more accustomed to these waters, and I try to dive with him in hopes of finding more to feed my growing pup.

And the pup is growing a lot. Selkies usually waddle—as do the seals—but I feel even more unwieldy than I usually do on land, like my flippers are being forced far out to my sides. Naardan simply laughs and tells me I’m being a good vati when I get stuck in the hole we made in the ice and he and Quin have to chip away at it for a bit to make it wide enough for me to squeeze through.

I’m thoroughly embarrassed by that, though, so I make a point to waddle out to the edge of the ice and dive in from there. I’m not getting stuck again.

My pup is still lazy, though, hardly moving inside me, and I fret about it. Naardan tells me not to worry. He seems to think that since I wasn’t getting enough to eat early in the pregnancy, the pup learned to conserve energy, so he’s resting a lot, so he can use his energy to grow “big and strong,” in the seal’s words.

I wish I agreed with him. I’m worried something is very wrong with my poor pup. I have nightmares that the pup is born dead.

That happened to one of the other seals a few days earlier, and I’m haunted by his wails. Naardan tells me the other omega will be fine; he’s already gone off to meet with the alpha seals. “He’ll have another chance,” Naardan says with a shrug.

I watch as birds scavenge the body of the dead pup. I know I shouldn’t—it’s only making me feel worse, but I can’t look away.

“Stop worrying! Your pup is growing!” Quin tells me with a laugh as we haul out of the water. He bumps into me playfully. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

I scowl at him, and he barks with laughter. “I know there’s a reason you stopped using the ice hole,” he says, waggling his sealy eyebrows knowingly. “Afraid you’ll get stuck again?”

I huff and roll onto my side. Quin flops down beside me, patting me with his flipper. “You’re doing fine, vati selkie,” he says.

I exhale and close my eyes. Quin sits up suddenly. “What was your mate like?” he asks, turning to me. The sun glitters in his eyes, and his expression is playful.

Talking about alphas is Quin’s favorite pastime. He’s not old enough for his own, I guess; he swam north to this haul-out with his vati like other young seals because it’s instinctual, but he won’t mate this year, and he won’t have a pup of his own for a few years yet. Still, I’ve seen the way he looks at the arriving alpha seals—it’s a look of unadulterated lust. Even if he’s not ready for a mate yet, Quin appreciates alphas.

I squirm a little. I haven’t talked much about Aramis—vague details, such as that we were going south, that he was my fated mate, and that he was killed and I fled.

“Was he big and strong?” Quin asks, a note of lust in his voice. “I’ll bet he was—I bet your pup is gonna be just like his drasili.”

I grumble a little bit in my throat at him. “He wasn’t—he wasn’t a selkie,” I say finally.

“Oh?” Quin looks at me, curiosity dancing in his dark eyes. He tilts his head, trying to read me. His forehead wrinkles. “Then you mated with an alpha seal?”

He glances out at the ice floe, like he might spot my mate in the crowd, even though I’ve told him my mate is dead.

“No,” I huff.

He jerks his head back, just as Naardan bounces up to us. Quin frowns at me. “Then what was he?” he asks.

“Human,” I answer sheepishly, and Quin’s eyes go wide.

“Human?” he asks, his voice hushed, like he’s saying a dirty word.

Naardan’s expression turns severe. “Did I hear you correctly, Lir?” he asks sharply, and both Quin and I turn to him. “Your mate was a human?”

“That’s right,” I answer with a nod.

He frowns deeply at me. “You need to come with me,” he says sternly.

“What? Why?” I ask as I struggle up to my flippers. He bounces away without answering me, so I have no choice but to follow him.