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We lay in a mound of beating hearts and warm flesh and acceptance, fingers stroking, bodies twitching. Tangled together, expressions open, and gazes tracing and locking, our bond was palpable. Not just in the physical sense. I felt our chemistry in the air, vibrating between us, pulling us toward one another without shifting a muscle. It was bigger than me, stronger than them. It was immeasurable and profound and dependable, connecting our union in ways that couldn’t be explained in words. But if I had to give it a name, I would simply call it Us.
Roark propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over Michio’s chest, staring down at the other man. “Ye worked things out in your head? Ye seem…lighter this morning.”
I agreed. Not just in the easy set of his shoulders, but in the way his face glowed. His eyes were brighter.
Michio curled a lock of my hair around his fingers, his gaze on Roark. “Yeah. You were right…what you told me last night, and I do feel better.”
They must’ve been referring to Roark’s advice about me somehow healing deep wounds? I wanted to argue against it, to set them straight, but thought better of it. They could think what they wanted, especially if those thoughts made them happy.
“Be careful, Doc.” Jesse slipped from the bed and dragged on a pair of sweat pants. “Next thing you know, Roark will have us painting each other’s fingernails and listening to boy bands.”
Roark rolled to his back, grinning at the ceiling. “Ye cunts can lick me balls.”
I leaned over and kissed the indention in his hip. “I don’t think they’re ready for that.”
“His balls are all yours, darlin’.” Jesse strode to the door. “I’m hitting the shower. What’s the plan today?”
Michio snagged his own pants from the floor. “Evie needs a full check-up with an ultrasound. I want to run some tests, but I need equipment and a sterile environment. I also need vitamins, medications, and people.” His voice deepened, heavy with grimness. “Nurses, doctors, specialists, preferably those who have experience in obstetric complications and at risk pregnancies that might require surgical interventions.”
Silence blanketed the room, and I glimpsed the sudden bleakness in their eyes. I sat up and lowered my hand to my stomach, sliding it around my middle. I wasn’t scared. Well, maybe a little. Not about my pregnancy, but I was scared for them. Adding to that was my fear that they would leave the dam to search for the things Michio needed and get bitten or hurt. Or killed.
Fuck, this was going to sound needy, but I said it anyway. “Don’t leave me.”
I’d make them take me with them if it came to that.
Roark curled his big body around my hips. “Den’ leave us.”
My heart pinched. I would try my damnedest not to.
“Link can send Hunter and some of the others to collect what Doc needs.” Jesse leaned against the door frame, studying me with his usual intensity.
“Do you trust this guy?” Michio looked between Jesse and Roark.
“He’s a mentaller.” Roark absently traced the line of my thigh. “But he’s obsessively committed to leading any and all brigades attached to Evie.”
“Alright.” Michio strode toward the door. “Then I’ll give him a list that’ll keep him busy for a while.” He paused, looking back at me. “Last night, he said there weren’t any aphids outside of the perimeter. He sent patrols out, twenty miles in every direction, and they found remnants of exploded bodies. And not a single living bug.”
Twenty miles? My pulse picked up. “I’ve never had that kind of reach. I wonder how far it extends? I haven’t felt an aphid since I killed the ones on the dam.” A horrifying thought slammed into my gut. “The nymphs…I don’t know how to isolate them from my aphid commands.” I gripped my stomach, clenching against the brutal ache there. “Oh God, what if I killed nymphs, too?”
“Evie, love, shh.” Roark pulled me into his lap and pressed kisses to my temple. “You didn’t kill them.”
He didn’t know this. He was just trying to make me feel better.
Michio appeared at my side, his hand in my hair, guiding my face to his. “You’re borrowing that power from our daughter. Do you agree?”
My chest hitched, and I nodded.
“And our daughter is meant to save mankind, not destroy it.” His voice was a deep growl, menacing in its conviction. “Which means she won’t kill the vessels meant to carry future generations.”
I nodded again, my breaths calming. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He observed me closely, probably making sure I was truly okay, then he strode toward the door. “Jesse and I are taking a shower.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
Three hours later, we had showered and eaten oatmeal and a surprisingly tender meat from some kind of wild bird. After that, Michio had put me through an overly-thorough exam, using the supplies he’d carried with him from Georgia. He’d drawn my blood, prodded my cervix—or whatever he was doing with his hand inside me—noted my weight and measurements, checked my teeth and blood pressure, gave me a breast exam, and annoyed the piss out of me. No part of my body had been left untouched by his clinical fingers. When I told him I was done with this nonsense, he gave me a withering look that turned my insides to ash.
