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You Weren‘t Meant To Be

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Your life on Yautja Prime was at its peek. Your mate was as wonderful and loving as ever, your eldest son made his father proud by establishing himself as one of the fiercest warriors in this clan, and your youngest son was growing beautifully every day. It was perfect, but it seemed that fate told you that there was space for one more. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 19.168 After the Blooming Family series

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The twin suns were already high above the canopy, painting the village in golden warmth when you began your day. The air was heavy with the scent of burning metal from the forge and smoked meat, and the voices of the Males and Females starting their day before hunts and training started.

You walked along the elevated path carved into the volcanic rock and down the hill where your home sat. The clan leader's abode had a special place there, not only grander in size, but also sitting above everything, overlooking the village.

You moved through the settlement with calm authority, your presence part guidance, part reassurance. The kind of aura the Matriarch had to radiate. It wasn't a title given lightly, but then again, you had molded the position to your liking. You would not stand above Mi'ytiar in this hierarchy and you would not claim any power that you didn't deserve to take. Still, its strength echoed in the quiet bows of the Elder Females you passed and in the way young warriors straightened their spines when your gaze brushed over them.

Today was one of your favorite obligations that came with your role: the presenting of the pups. Mating season was over, and it was your job now to oversee and bless the fruits of the Females' labors. The mothers would proudly present their pups to you and watch you give your blessing.

You smiled at Matheih, who was already waiting at the entrance of the den that functioned as a communal space, sacred to the fragile bond. Mothers would nurture and care for each other's pups while the pups were able to get used to one another.

"Matriarch." She greeted you with a bow of her head and entered the den after you.

Inside, a group of mothers sat in a semi-circle, each holding their offspring, and a calmness settled upon the room. You recognized many of them from earlier cycles. Once, some had doubted you and whispered "soft meat" in disdain behind your back, but now they brought their children to you to get your approval for their pup to have a place in this clan.

Nonetheless, the smile on your lips was bright when you stepped towards the first Female, who extended her arms and offered you her pup when you knelt in front of her. It was a familiar sight, small and yet not fragile. The pup, with its soft greenish-brown scales, blinked at you before giving you a faint warble of a chirp.

You chuckled, extended a hand, and gently placed your palm on its forehead. "You will grow strong and resilient. You will bring pride and glory to your clan and lineage."

The mother thrilled before she pulled her pup back to her chest.

You moved from one Female to the other and each time you gave your blessing. You looked into each pup's face and imagined their future. Most of them would become hunters, of course, but will one of them become a healer? Will perhaps one of them take the necessary steps to become an Elder?

"You hold their futures in your hand, Yawne." Mi'ytiar's voice echoed in your head when you stood in front of the last mother.

You smiled at her before you looked down at her offering. The pup was as small as the others and just as adorable. It reminded you of Toyah and Akail when they had been young like this, still fitting comfortably into your arms and already looking at you with so much love that you nearly wept at the overwhelming emotion of joy.

"And who do we have here?" You cooed, voice warm, and gently stroked the underside of the tiny mandible.

"She T'kael. Firstborn of Shara'k." Matheih answered from behind you.

"T'kael." You echoed and the pup reached out, lightly touching the fabric of the silk-threaded wrap that secured your chest, the pale bone beads clinking softly. "She will be a fierce and valuable hunter to our clan."

T'kael's mother nodded, eyes shining with pride. "Thank you, Matriarch."

T'kael, meanwhile, was nosing along your jaw when she let out a high-pitched sound that was a mix of a sneeze and a grunt.

"Is something wrong?" You asked her mother when the pup suddenly started to wriggle in your grasp.

"She is confused." The Female explained and took the fussing pup out of your arms. "Your scent. She smell him on you."

You didn't need to guess who she was talking about. Mi'ytiar's natural odor was clinging to your skin even when he wasn't anywhere near. His shadow, his presence, was wrapped around your bones, lingering and never really leaving you alone. The Females could sense it, as could the pups, while your human nose failed to catch any hint of it. It must be thanks to his morning ritual where he would nuzzle into your neck, your cheek, your chest, any place of you he could reach, like a cat marking you by rubbing itself all over against you. He did it religiously, but you had thought he was just very affectionate in the earlier hours.

You missed him already. He had left home before you did, before sunrise, to track down a serpent-beast that was haunting the far mountain passes with two trusted hunters by his side. He hadn't wanted to leave, not without his ritual, and you kissed the underside of his mandible when he woke you up with purring and the nudge of his forehead. He told you he would return before the moons traded places with the suns.

After 78 years of knowing each other, your bond hadn't frayed one bit. It was stronger than ever, your fates intertwined in the form of your sons and deepened with the challenges you both had to endure. While everything around you had changed, nothing had changed between the two of you. He was still the Mi'ytiar you knew. The one who curled around you at night in your nest with a low rumble, the one who had slit the throat of a poacher on one of your journeys to another planet before he spent an hour untangling your hair with patience carved from unconditional love after the little tumble you had taken that had followed the aggressor's sneaky ambush. You could feel the ghostly warmth of his hands on your waist and the heat of his breath against your nape when you spoke to others for too long. His possessiveness was quieter now, but not gone wholly.

"Matriarch." Matheih's voice pulled you back and made you turn back to her. "They await your presence in birthing den as well. Two, just born."

You smiled in excitement. Usually, only pups who were already one or two weeks old were brought to you. It was sad because you couldn't resist those adorable little creatures. You cherished those rare occasions of greeting a new life into this world.

"Lead the way."

The birthing den was warm and humid, filled with the comforting musk of nesting Females and the occasional high-pitched whimper of a newborn discovering its voice.

You knelt beside the resting mat, where a Female cradled two tiny, wriggling bodies against her chest. The one with the more greenish markings let out a squeaky chirp as its head flopped to the side, overwhelmed by its own movements, and you couldn't help the grin forming on your lips. You eyed their wrinkled but freshly cleaned skin, and although their eyes were barely open, they could sense you. You knew they could. Yautja were magnificent in that way. Even when they were only hours old, their motor skills were functioning like they had been using them for years.

You placed one hand on each of the spongy crowns of their heads, scales going to harden in time, and whispered, "May your blood run strong and your hearts stay true. You will bring pride and glory to your clan and lineage."

The caretaker — the mothers of the pups probably resting from labor — bowed her head slightly. One of the pups nuzzled into your palm and let out a curious thrill, coaxing a soft laugh from your lips as you felt the warm, damp flesh underneath your fingertips.

And just like that, the birthing den and everyone present fell away, and you were back in your nest, the room smelling of blood and milk. You were holding Akail in your arms for the very first time. His skin had been dappled with birth stains, his tiny claws no thicker than thorns digging into your flesh as he grasped your finger, his grip belying an impossible strength. He was so small, so incredibly fierce, and you had looked into his pale-yellow eyes and known then and there that there was nothing you wouldn't do for him. And Toyah, your little Toyah, who was now one year old… you remembered nothing when he fought his way into the world. But that missed time was made up every time he would curl beneath your chin, tiny fingers gripping your hair as he slept. Or when you had cradled him against your chest, his whimpers soothed only by your heartbeat, helping him through one of the heavy storms this planet was plagued with.

Both of them had once been this fragile, so dependent, and oh so undeniably yours. For a moment, you missed it so much that it hurt.

You looked aside to school your features. The sudden wave of nostalgic sadness had washed over you, hitting you like a train with surprising impact. You hadn't thought about those early days of their life in some time. Not like this, at least. Not with the ache in your chest, the heaviness you felt in your arms. The last time you got so emotional was when…

The Female caretaker watched you closely, her golden eyes that had seen mothers who raised many and lost some, whose expertise was pregnant Females and the journey of each Yautja from hatchling to youngling. She tilted her head slightly, let out a low clicking sound, and leaned in without hesitation. One of her hands, unashamed and unbothered, reached out and cupped one of your breasts.

You stiffened, though you knew the touch was nothing but born from instinct. Watching her, she huffed in recognition, her claws flexing slightly, as if she was affirming what she had sensed, what she had smelled — something swelling, something shifting, something preparing. Your body had told someone else a new development within before you yourself could have noticed it.

You simply reached down to cup your belly and the breath you had been holding unconsciously left your lungs in a shaky exhale. No wonder you felt tired and worn out, even though you had opened your eyes barely two hours ago after a good night's sleep. No wonder you felt overwhelmed in the proximity of these pups.

You looked at the Female, needing her to confirm what your body had been hiding from you for weeks, maybe months already.

"You carry." She affirmed with a nod, her hand squeezing the flesh of your breast once more. "Your mate's seed grow in womb."

You could not believe it.

Well, maybe you could because it wasn't like you used contraceptives at all when you and Mi'ytiar mated. You doubted there was a condom that could even fit him, anyway, and there was no way that the Dublosan ointment would work on a being like him. And Yautja had no birth control of their own. It would be superfluous as they only mated to reproduce and not for fun.

So now you were here, barely listening to Cahrein, who double and triple-checked your blood results. Every time you would go to him to take your blood for emergencies, he would check for anomalies. He had found such two times before — one time when you were pregnant with Akail, one time when you were pregnant with Toyah — and now a third time.

You were pregnant again. One would think your body had given up after the nerve-wrecking and nearly life-costing births of your boys, but here it was, presenting to you yet another pup growing inside your womb.

Absentmindedly, you placed a hand on your stomach, letting the tips of your fingers ghost over your skin.

Another pup.

Another pup growing inside you.

Another pup your beloved Mi'ytiar fathered.

A smile lifted the corners of your lips and you turned to Cahrein, who was still droning on about the new possibilities to make the delivery much easier for you.

"-learned from little Toyah's birth. A well-placed cut in stomach and get pup out. It will be safer here with my tools and equipment. Much, much safer. You will sleep, so no pain." He nodded along with his words as he stored your taken blood.

You only hummed, pretending you listened to his ramblings. You had more pressing matters you were worried about.

"Do you think Mi'ytiar will be happy about the news?" You asked him.

Looking up from your fingers tracing across your stomach, you watched Cahrein press a button on a touch panel and the metal holder on which the bags with your blood were hanging retracted into the refrigerator-like device all on its own. It fascinated you every time how you didn't need to push it in and everything moved on its own with one single touch.

"Unlikely." Cahrein stated bluntly as the door of the cooling device shut itself. "Very distraught the last time. You nearly died."

You exhaled with a defeated sigh.

Unlikely.

That was what you had feared. Something you had already expected, given how poorly he had handled the births of your sons. Akail's one had ignited hope of having a family with his human before Toyah's had crushed it just as easily.

And now you were pregnant once more.

Was it selfish to feel joy blooming within you, spreading through your whole body like a wildfire? To want to carry another despite everything that had happened in the past? Perhaps it was. But when your thoughts returned to your mate — the way how he held you when he rutted into you, how he growled into your neck as his hips picked up its pace, how he roared when he came and then murmured how he wished you would soon grow heavy with child again — you couldn't bring yourself to regret it. Sure, those words were spoken in the throes of pleasure, but you just knew it was a desire he had long buried and forgotten.

Cahrein's voice stopped your train of thought when he handed you a strange device that reminded you of a gramophone record, simply a lot smaller. "Here. The great Mi'ytiar can look at results himself."

"Thank you." You muttered with a weak smile, twisting the tiny piece of metal in your fingers.

"Tell him." The healer rumbled, his voice lacking the usual stoicism. "Sooner is better. He will scent change."

You lay curled within your nest, the thick furs underneath you as soft as ever, and your fingers idly toyed with the edge of your blanket wrapped around you as you stared out the window — floor-to-ceiling, nearly extending on the whole wall, and offering a breathtaking view down the cliffside and into the gaping abyss beneath. The suns had already disappeared behind jagged mountains and the moons were rising into the sky. The navy-blue mixed with lilac hues and set alight with glittering stars.

Mi'ytiar had told you that he had insisted on the view when this dwelling was built when he had gained his title as clan leader. He had whispered into your ear how it made him feel like the stars were always within reach when he had you on his lap, your back to his chest, slowly thrusting up into you, making sweet love.

You shifted slightly and your hand slipped underneath your blanket to cup your belly. Just then, you heard the usual hissing sound of the front door and seconds later of the bedroom door.

Your mate was home.

No turning back now…

You didn't look at him, but his effect on your body was immediate — muscles softened, shoulders lowered, and that deep, buried part of you that could only ever rest when he was near let out a long, invisible sigh.

He crossed the threshold in quiet strides, the sound of metal joints and armored plates clicking in subtle rhythm. You caught his reflection in the window: tall and lethal and beautiful in a way that made you feel elated.

He paused for only a beat, gaze flicking toward the nest. Then he made a low, acknowledging chuff, walked to the armor stand and began to strip the armor off his chest. The motion was automatic: unlatch the gauntlets, lift the chest plate, and set everything gently aside before releasing the mask with a hiss of sealant air. One by one, he stripped himself down until nothing remained but the net-suit that stuck to his skin with sweat.

You watched the reflection of his back muscles flex as he moved. Beneath all that armor and ferocity, he was flesh and blood. Your mate. The father of your children.

And now of one more.

He disappeared into the bathroom without a word, the soft hiss of the door shutting behind him making you smile. Because he remembered. The scolding you had given him once about dragging the day's filth into your nest, his body streaked with mud and dried blood and gods knew what else. You had shoved him right back off the furs with your foot and made him scrub himself clean while you gave him a long speech about hygiene. You hadn't expected him to listen, but he did because every day after that, he beelineed your awaiting arms for the bathroom.

You listened to the muffled sound of water starting up, followed by the quiet scrape of his claws against stone. Mi'ytiar never rushed through washing himself, even when he tried. He was almost excessive in how he cleaned himself, like he followed a ritual.

You smiled softly before you traced the curve of the natural fat of your belly that had never really disappeared after carrying two pups. You weren't showing yet, of course, but it was only a matter of time.

You had no idea what to say. Or rather, no idea how and what to say first. It wasn't like you could say, "Hey, I'm giving you another reason to fear for my life!" You feared to see his sorrow, his rage, his remorse at the realization of endangering your life once more, despite taking measures to prevent further pregnancies. Cahrein had worked on something that, as he had explained, would have an even better effect than Dublosan. Mi'ytiar would take it every month and could go at it like a rabbit without any concerns. The healer had said that it was still in the development stage, but he needed it to be tested, so he could be sure that it worked. It seemed that it hadn't and your mate would either fault himself or rip Cahrein apart.

The water stopped.

You sat up in your nest, your blanket pressed to your chest, and the door opened. Mi'ytiar stepped out, bare flesh all for you to ogle at, and shook his dreads to whip off some water. His golden eyes found you and they held contact with yours as he crawled on the nest and over to you. His massive body pressed against your back and his arms curled around you while you kept staring outside, occasionally focusing on the reflection of the two of you.

"You quiet." He murmured into the hair on the back of your head. "You far away."

You opened your mouth but hesitated. So, you closed your mouth again and turned in his arms until you were facing him. His eyes, like honey, studied your face like he was trying to read whatever was making your heart heavy on your face.

"They tell me you see hatchling today, Yawne." He said to keep the conversation going, maybe to stir your mind from whatever that was plaguing you, and twirled a strand of your hair around your finger.

"Hatchlings. There were two." You corrected. "And pups that were a little older."

"You like them?"

"They were healthy. Strong and curious. One pup bit my finger." You said, a weak grin on your lips.

A low, amused growl rumbled through his chest. "Good instincts." He cupped your chin and traced the curve of your lower lip with his thumb. "You honor them with your presence."

You hummed absentmindedly before you took a deep breath.

Now or never.

"I have something to tell you." You whispered, already placing your hands on his waist and rubbing his skin with your thumbs in a comforting manner. "I went to Cahrein today."

The words barely left your mouth and he already had his hands cupping your cheeks, worry etched into his face as he looked you over.

"Speak." He gritted out. "You wounded?"

"No." You shook your head.

"Poisoned?"

You shook your head again, this time with a small smile on your lips. "I'm not in danger, my love."

Although he would beg to differ…

That made him grunt softly, the sound deep. "Then why?"

"One of the caretakers in the birthing den, when I visited the two newborns, noticed something different today… on me." You started slowly, eyes sharp to catch any sign of displeasure on his face. "She… she said I carry."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You carry?"

You nodded and managed a half-smile, watery and uncertain.

"And what Cahrein say?"

"He said the same." You said hesitantly. "I'm pregnant."

There. You said it. Shaky and with a crack in the middle, but you said it.

Mi'ytiar didn't move, didn't blink. He didn't even breathe. You had seen wounds from beasts on him that nearly killed him, had seen him when he watched you get attacked by one of them before he jumped in to decapitate it, but he had never looked so haunted as he did now.

"Pregnant?" He asked, voice so low that it nearly disappeared in the space between you.

You nodded.

His mandible parted slightly and for a second, something raw shimmered in his eyes. His hands tightened almost painfully around your face, his claws digging into your skin so much that you couldn't stop the pained gasp.

"You sure?" He pressed and you wanted to hide away under his intense gaze.

"Cahrein ran three tests. He gave me a data chip. It's on the… on the map table in the trophy room."

Silence.

Mi'ytiar took a slow breath. Then another. His broad chest rose and fell once, twice. Then he moved. He ripped his hands from your cheeks like your skin had burned him and turned away with a sharpness that startled you. He crossed the room in two long strides, bare feet slamming on the volcanic stone floor like war drums. He clenched his fists, knuckles cracking, as he walked around the room until he suddenly stopped, walked to the wall, and started punching it. The sound shook the chamber, stone cracking under the force. His back muscles bunched and quivered with every hit.

You hadn't expected to be happy and jump around in joy, but this? You hadn't expected this as well and you were close to tears that his first instinct to the news was to rip your home apart.

"Tanhì!" You cried. "Please-"

"Do not talk right now."

You shut your mouth in an instant and instead watched his heaving shoulders and his bowed head, his claws gouging faint lines into the stone wall. He stalked to the long console table that you had decorated with pictures, candles, and native plants and stones, lifted it like it weighed nothing, and hauled it to the opposite wall, where it shattered like it was glass, sending splinters of obsidian raining to the floor. He roared, raw and hateful. He smashed your mirror and tipped over the ceremonial braziers left and right of the bedroom entrance, flames licking along the floor until they sputtered out against the stone.

At that moment, he reminded you of a feral animal. Only, he kept his rage far away from you.

You opened your mouth when he ripped the embroidery from the wall to your left, the one you had worked on for months, when he dared to think about throwing it into the fire or ripping it to pieces, but even then, he was considered enough to simply let it fall to his feet.

After the bedroom was mainly destroyed, his head snapped to you and your body tensed so you wouldn't flinch.

"I will not let this thing grow in you." He seethed, pointing at you with a shaky finger. "Cahrein will take care. Or I will take it from your womb myself. I will not let it take you."

Now, it was your turn to look at him with a look that could kill. "I will not abort it!"

"Abort? What abort?" He snarled.

"Abort. An Abortion." You said sharply.

Another thing Yautja, of course, didn't need. Every pregnancy was wanted and planned. There were no accidents after fooling around, only the traditional mating season, where clans were extended

"It's when you remove the fetus in the early stage of a woman's pregnancy. An abortion is what you just said. Ripping it out of me before it grows out of control."

"That not how I mean it."

"It's exactly how you meant it."

"I vow to protect you, Yawne. Vow to destroy what threatens you. Always."

"That 'threat' grows inside me. What are you going to do now, huh? How will you destroy that threat if it grows within me?" You asked in a mock-challenging tone, almost like you wanted to rile him up even more.

"Cahrein." He growled. "Cahrein will take out thing. He will save you."

You ran a hand down your face and groaned. "That won't happen. I don't want it to happen, Mi'ytiar. Don't act like you can make this choice for me. Like if it's between me an-"

"There is no choice!"

You flinched at his roar, but surprise was quickly overshadowed by your own rage. "No choice? Mi'ytiar, this is my body. My womb. My life."

"But my mate!" He bellowed, suddenly standing at the edge of the nest and towering over you. "My everything. If one molecule try kill you, I not ask questions. Not wait for proof. I act. End it."

You moved over the nest on your knees and shoved him when he was at arm's length. He didn't move, of course, but the act had an impact on itself.

"I'm not your damn possession! I'm not something you own, something you lock away in a box to keep it safe. I love you, but I want this pup. I have given you two sons. Do you think I'm going to just give up on a third?"

He said nothing to that. His jaw clenched so tightly that the tusks of his upper and lower mandibles ground against each other.

"Every pregnancy for your kind is sacred." You continued. "Carried in honor."

"Yes." He bit out.

"So what the hell do you think this is going to be?" You asked and placed a hand on your stomach. "Don't you think that this pup wouldn't have happened if it wasn't meant to be?"

"You no Yautja. This no chosen life. No sacred blood." He growled.

Before he could even breathe another word, you slapped him, one harsh blow across his face. You doubted you had hurt him more than the sting you felt in your palm, but at least you could see his mandibles twitch in discomfort.

Your chest was heaving, rising and falling with every seething breath. Him calling your pup not sacred by Yautja standard was a low blow and he knew it. Akail and Toyah had the same upbringing as their future sibling, so saying those things about the pup growing inside your womb led to the same assumptions towards your firstborn and secondborn: they were neither sacred nor chosen life.

"How dare you!" You slapped him again, but he only blinked at you. "Akail was not planned. Toyah was not planned. They weren't conceived during your precious mating cycles. But you didn't hold them in your arms and questioned if their blood was sacred, did you? You didn't stare in their faces and wondered if they were truly your sons or simply mistakes of passion. You called them your line, your legacy. And now…" You had to clear your throat to stop your voice from breaking. "Now you want to look at this one and call it less?"

Mi'ytiar's mandibles flared. "That not what-"

"Yes!" You screamed, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You said it, you meant it, and you can't say anything to make me believe you won't ever stop thinking it! You said it like you were speaking the truth. Like you forgot that you mated me and put this pup inside me. Like you needed its creation sealed in a fucking blood pact between Elders!"

Mi'ytiar snarled and his voice rose to match yours, "We plan, we claim, we prepare! That how we survive! You… you brought chaos to that order!"

"I brought life, Mi'ytiar! Are you seriously calling your sons chaos now?!"

"They almost killed you!" He roared and grabbed you by your throat. "You think I ever forget?! You think I sleep while your screams still echo in my head? I still see my hands cut open your belly. See blood and meat and… I hold Toyah before I even know if you were still breathing!"

You were struggling against his hold, hitting his arm with your fists like it would get him to stop. You weren't scared that he would hurt you. First, you were far too angry to be afraid, and second, you knew he would never actually hurt you. You knew that no matter how rageful and cruel Mi'ytiar could get, that small part in his brain that told him to keep you safe and secure was always louder than any bloodthirst.

"And I'd do it all over again!" You screamed hoarsely as you tried to pry his fingers off your skin. "I'd take every second of agony, every cut, every hour of screaming if it means I get to meet them, raise them, love them! That's what parents do!"

"What ooman do!" He ground out, his eyes blazing. "You want to die for love? I kill for love. I kill to keep what mine, to keep you. If that means terminating pup, so I not lose you, so be it!"

You stared at him, at his heaving chest that was matching yours with every hectic breath. Your palms grew clammy at the sight of your mate being everything but the gentle, considerate, and loving Male you had fallen in love with. A small part of you knew that he was just dealing with the news, dealing with the realization that he had put you into another life-or-death situation, but that part was overshadowed by the fury that was poisoning every cell in your body.

"Then we're not speaking the same language." You said, lower now, but no less cutting.

"No." Mi'ytiar grunted. "We mated by blood but torn by bone. Your flesh risks and I not abide risk. I not lose you."

"And I will not be told that what grows inside me is a mistake." You hissed. "Because if it is, then I am a mistake for even being on this planet. For being your Life Mate. And so are Akail and Toyah. Then everything we built was a mistake."

There was a moment of silence in which he just stared at you like your words had impaled him.

"You are not mistake! You are heart of my life, breath in my lungs. I live for you, but not when you dead in the ground."

"I won't live in fear of what my body can and cannot do!" You shot back.

He turned away from you then, snarling, pacing again like a beast trapped in a too-small cage. "You think I not ache for pup already? You think I not picture its face? You think I not want more and more pups with you?" He stopped to look at you with wild eyes. "But I choose never to see it, never feel its heartbeat, if it means losing you."

"I'm stronger than you think. I survived your sons and I know I will do it again. You just have to have faith." You said, now pleading with him, tired of screaming at him when he was already at a low point.

"What if you not?"

"Then you remember me exactly like this. Fighting for what I believe in. For the child I carry. For the life I choose to create."

Mi'ytiar looked dejected at your words and he needed to take a few steps back. His chest hurt, burned, like he had been shot with a plasma gun, and he wanted to claw at his flesh to get rid of the feeling that was choking him. You were throwing your life away for yet another of his mistakes. He cursed himself, cursed Cahrein, who had urged him to mate with you to test the substance, which should have prevented a situation like this. And the worst thing was that he couldn't make you see reason, that he was sure you would stab him with your stubbornness when he would once again want you to overthink everything. He hated how brave you were and he hated that he couldn't shield you from your own fire.

If you died, he would die too. There was no reason to keep living when you were the only thing keeping him going every single day. He was dependent on your breath, the very beat of your heart. If your scent faded from the nest… if your laughter never filled the high arches of the hunting lodge again… if your stubborn tongue never scolded him for muddy boots or ruined sheets or open wounds after a stupid fight…

And if all that disappeared, what was there to keep going?

You had dug your fingers into him the moment he first heard your voice in that alley all those years ago. That night, you had been a defiant creature despite your fear, a creature of softness, stubborn fire, and terrifying beauty. You had faced hostile Males with narrowed eyes and sharp commands, had knelt beside him when a hunt went wrong, and took care of him without flinching, and, above all, had brought his sons into the world. And the way you had smiled at him afterwards, sweat-soaked, trembling, alive…

He had never known anything holier.

And now you were standing before him, another pup he sired growing within you, and he was watching you slowly burn yourself to ashes just to bring it into the world.

You would die to protect it.

And he would die if you did.

Mi'ytiar wanted to fall to his knees and press his forehead against your belly. Not out of submission or acceptance, but out of despair. He wanted to whisper prayers to the Gods he no longer believed in into your skin and beg them to keep you safe one last time. He wouldn't care if it made him seem weak. He would give up every last ounce of his strength — his armor, his rank, his clan — if it meant he would never have to lie you down in the ground. And if he did, he would follow you. He wouldn't die a warrior's death, how it was honorable, but a broken mate's death, so he could lie beside you in eternity. There was no future without your smile greeting him every morning when he would wake, no meaning to his conquests if your chest wasn't there to nuzzle into as a reward.

He loved you so much that it made his heart weak. And he loved you so much that it would be an honor to die for you.

"Mi'ytiar…" You softly said after the silence grew too heavy to bear.

He didn't reply, didn't even look at you when he turned and left.

"Mi'ytiar!" You called and scrambled off the nest to run after him.

You screamed his name when he left your home and screamed it again when he walked down the path into the village. Having no strength left to chase after him and tell him that running away wouldn't solve anything, you simply sank down on your knees and leaned against the door frame. The Hell Hounds, Be'jaa, Vohtu and Gihn'tha, quickly gathered around you. Be'jaa licked away your tears while Vohtu lay down next to you, her head in your lap.

They distracted you long enough for a ship to take off and disappear in the inky black night sky without you noticing a thing.

During the first month of your pregnancy, the days had fallen into a rhythm. One you hadn't chosen freely and that had settled around you like a heavy mist that clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Each morning, you rose to the soft bustle of hunting parties preparing for scouting assignments, the clashes and roars from the training pits, and the takeoff or landing of a ship. It got harder and harder pushing yourself out of your nest, but it was worth it to see Younglings darting between towering warriors, always careful to avoid being stepped on by patrolling guards, and mothers with their pups carried in their arms or strapped to their chests, greeting you, a soon-to-be mother of three. Some Females joined you, with or without offspring, and lingered for hours.

You didn't mind. You enjoyed their company and it made you forget for a while how lonely you were in your own home.

Mi'ytiar had practically disappeared from your everyday life. He had returned the next day after the revelation of your pregnancy and was still the same reliable and unmovable leader, who carried out his duties without a fail. He held council with his hunters, oversaw the training session in the pits — the younger warriors didn't dare to question his sudden aggression — and stalked through the forests surrounding the grounds, always keeping the mere scent of threat at bay. His people barely saw a difference, maybe the lack of clinginess towards his pregnant mate.

But it was more what they didn't see. They didn't see the too-big and too-cold nest when you were tossing and turning in the empty sheets. They didn't see how he preferred to sleep on the meditative stone bench next to the bathing alcove, still in his armor like he had fallen asleep before he could wash himself and then go to bed. They didn't see how he sneaked in and out of your shared home before you woke up and after you fell asleep.

He never talked about the pup again. Not once. Not even when you were standing by the central fire in the Elders' den and one of the Females offered you an herbal paste, cooing affectionately at your shifting scent. He had stood beside you, posture rigid and taut like a pulled bowstring. Once the Females turned to resume their work, you would look to your mate, only to find the spot next to you empty.

You caught yourself watching the skies more often at night. You wondered where he had gone this time as he was almost always off planet now. Maybe he was hunting, maybe he carried out an assignment ordered by the Elders.

You also spent more time in the birthing and play dens. You would watch the younger pups as they explored each other, even already attacking each other, but without any aggression. The watching mothers preened with pride at the fast-developing predatory skills. They would watch their tiny bums wiggle as they stopped their crawling before they lunged at an unsuspecting companion. It reminded you a lot of a cat hunting a bird and you couldn't help but join the mothers' chuckles. At nighttime, whenever you were too hyper to fall asleep, you would take over some shifts and watch over the newborns. You would sit near them, watching them twitch in their sleep, hearing the tiny sighs and gurgles of contentment.

That was when you decided against keeping your nest empty. One night, instead of carrying Toyah to his crib, you took him to your bedroom and settled him next to you, where he would snuggle tightly to you.

Your moon-eyed, wobbly-limbed, fist-swinging, tusk-biting little baby…

The little one was equal parts of fury and fluff. The few words he knew came slowly — sometimes not at all — but his emotions were sharp and loud. If he wanted to eat, he screamed, if he was tired, he whined, and if he wanted you, he would throw tantrums and bite until your whole focus was on him.

Thankfully, he was rarely such a terror. He was a very happy and lively pup, one of the smartest of the young ones. He may not be able to say "Papa" yet, but he knew his scent, knew the sound of his footsteps, knew the affection in his voice. He would always spin in the direction where his senses had picked up his father's presence and would dart towards it in a waddle-run.

Sometimes you cursed how smart he was because Toyah knew. At only one year old, he noticed that his father wasn't there. Mi'ytiar's scent was faint and his voice hadn't filled the halls for weeks. He was even able to sense the tumult inside you and became even clingier than he already was. He hardly left your arms when you wandered around the clan grounds and attended your own duties, and you fled into the soothing embrace of his tiny arms holding onto you. He clung to you like moss to stone, his tiny claws gripping the fabric of whatever you were wearing around your chest, his head nestled into the crook of your neck. When he nursed, he was silent, those big, beautiful eyes of his locked with yours, unblinking.

Akail, meanwhile, ditched a few of his duties to keep you company whenever you desired it. He hunted your food, accompanied you to the first monthly check-up at Cahrein's lab, and ripped anything that was heavier than a feather from your hands, insisting you were exerting yourself far too much.

One night, while Toyah was sprawled out next to you where his father should be lying and you were reading one of your books, the hissing sound of the opening bedroom door filled the silence and got you to look up. Akail stood in the doorway and said nothing for a while before he let out a sigh and grumbled, "He know you not made of glass?"

You gave him a weak chuckle. "He likes to think otherwise, my little warrior."

Akail grunted, a sound that could pass as agreement, and stepped inside. He climbed up into the nest and settled next to you, one large hand circling your calf, applying pressure in the way one would use to massage someone.

He was so much like Mi'ytiar it hurt. He knew when you needed something, how you needed it, and in what amount you needed it without having to ask. He just knew.

"How are you, my sweetling?" You asked him after closing your book, placing it aside to cup the underside of his mandible, eliciting a purr.

"Fine." He grunted and you cocked your head at the lack of words.

Usually, he loved to talk about his day, loved to boast about the rising number of hunting trophies, and loved to bathe in your endless praise like a little pup who just took his first step. But you didn't need to ask him about the lack of words as you knew the absence of his father weighed on him harder than he wanted to admit.

You remembered the last time Akail had seen him. Both Males had stood outside your home, silently overlooking the village. Akail had turned to look at you and the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know — Mi'ytiar had revealed the news of your pregnancy to him. You thought Akail would flee just like he did that time with Toyah, but no. He was steadfast in his decision to stand by you, despite his obvious agreement with his father's opinion of getting rid of the thing inside your womb as fast as possible. He would rather rip his tusks out than displease you once more, even though you were willingly throwing your life away, like you hadn't learned better from his younger brother's birth. He decided to be strong for as long as he was able to and be there for you while his father was gone.

"You can talk to me, my sweet." You coaxed, pulling his face in your direction, so he would look at you. "How are you really?"

Akail looked at you, truly looked at you, and his eyes darted across your face. He took in the sadness and exhaustion that were so clearly etched into your face that he wanted to beat himself that he hadn't noticed it sooner.

"Fine, Mama." He purred and nuzzled his face into your shoulder. "All be fine."

The days in your second month seemed to stretch on and on. You were showing now, barely, just a gentle swell that curved your silky wrap top. Toyah had taken on a possessive habit of laying his head against your belly, letting out low, cooing purrs and nuzzling his tusks against your skin. Once, he surprised you and Akail when his big brother tried to touch you, and growled at him. It hadn't really had the desired effect as it sounded absolutely adorable from such a small creature like him. You had laughed and Akail had growled back at him, a real growl, that made Toyah shrink back but didn’t lessen the glare he shot at him.

Mi'ytiar was still gone, but the nest was now even less empty as Akail had decided to join his mother and younger brother. He would grab Toyah, who, despite his small size, tried to take up as much space as possible, and place him on his stomach when he lay back. You would sleep cuddled to Akail's side and let the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.

Your days filled themselves with your duties — blessings, a fight between two new Blooded, the hunt of a Bad Blood too close to the clan borders, the reparations of an Elder statue, and on it went. Akail, who kept to your side, was the wall you could lean against, and the rock you needed to grab and hold on to in those moments. Especially when you send five Unblooded on their initiation hunt and your mate should have been standing by your side. Instead, it was your son with crossed arms behind his back and a stern look on his face, a silent challenge to ask about or mock your mate's absence and find out.

Even without speaking, he knew when you needed grounding. He built you a canopy over your nest to block out the light of the suns so you could fall asleep easier for your naps and when you returned home one evening, still smelling of crushed moss and smoke, he greeted you with a fresh bowl of finely chopped fruit that wouldn't trigger your nausea. He was always there and you couldn't be prouder of him and of yourself because you managed to raise him right.

While Akail filled your home with calmness, Toyah filled it with disorder. He had recently discovered dirt. And water. And the immense, joyful chaos that came with combining both. You could barely keep him clean for 10 minutes. The moment you finished bathing him, he would escape down the corridor and find the first patch of wet earth he could throw himself into like a happy little eel. Then, you would drag him back, kicking and whining, and swear to the skies if he wasn't your son, you would give him away.

He responded by biting your thigh.

You had laughed until you cried. Not because of pain, but because you missed your mate so much. Because he wasn't there to witness the precious moment you shared with your sons. Because he wasn't a part of them. He wasn't there when you were lying in your nest with Toyah curling on top of you, arms around your middle, little claws digging into your back, as you pointed out the constellations to him, whispering the names.

"That's the Great Fang." You cooed, one hand tracing the line of stars while the other stroked the pup's back.

Toyah only gurgled sleepily and nuzzled his face into your collarbone.

Your baby bump was showing when you reached your third month, and you had to wear the maternity clothes of your first two pregnancies more and more often now.

Instead of the monthly check-up at Cahrein's healer den, he came by the clan leader's abode once every week. He always found an excuse why he needed to be here. Either it was to check your blood pressure, the growth of your pup, the measure of your stomach or breasts, or anything remotely related. But really, most of the time he was just watching. He was looking for a strain, a subtle downward pull of your lips.

When he was satisfied with whatever result he came up with, he only said, "Eat more." before he left.

Akail was as steadfast as ever while he tried to fill the space where his father should have been. Not as a replacement, of course, but in a way a son was able to. He brought bigger and bigger portions of food to your nest, put the old crib next to your nest where it had been the other two times, and already prepared the home for the new addition by shifting furniture to make room, reorganizing storaged herbs and ointments, and adding more blankets of soft-haired pelts.

Like inside your home, no one spoke about the absence of your mate. Even though his people were partly curious and partly worried about where he was and why he had been gone for almost two months, no one dared to ask. They were respectful not to pry, but to you, it was pretty obvious that they could guess why he had been off planet all this time.

But what would happen to you? What if Mi'ytiar had abandoned you after all? What about your place in the clan? Without him as your mate, what would become of you if he decided to never come back? Was he out there because he was so determined to find a way to break your Life-mated bond?

You cried yourself to sleep most nights when those doubts and fears were the loudest and nothing could drown them out.

Your stomach was nicely rounded now. The size was still manageable and barely hindered you in your movements, though it took a slight toll on your stamina. You remembered that when you were pregnant for the first time, you hadn't been able to climb up to the carved terraces that overlooked the fighting pits and Mi'ytiar had to carry you all the way up. He had teased you endlessly about how adorable you looked when your face went all red from exhaustion after only ten steps. To you, it was a sign that your body had changed enough to adapt to creating a being that was clearly not human and you could trust it to be more reliable to master a simple activity like walking those damn steps.

After three months, you finally stopped dreaming of Mi'ytiar. Where he had haunted your sleep — in flashes of yellow eyes, the drag of his claws over your spine, the growl in your ear — was now darkness and where he would press a hand to your belly, whisper, "Mine." and cause you to jolt out of your sleep with a sob, you slept peacefully through the night with your boys right next to you.

Akail had started not only to fill the role as your mate but also the one as clan leader. He hadn't presumed the role — not once — but his decisions were sound and his blood was respected, and since you didn't have the required knowledge and experience, let alone be prepared to take the responsibility, he was the next in line. Mi'ytiar had taught him leadership and the duties that came with that role, leading to Akail being prepared enough to take over until his father returned. Only when a border messenger from a neighboring clan came seeking a meeting with the Chieftain, it was you who received him while Akail stood behind you, tall, broad-shouldered and armored, the tip of his spear sunken into the ground beside his feet.

Toyah had begun to speak more. It were mostly small words like "No.", "Eat." and "Mine.", mispronounced and sloppy, but he was proud nonetheless. And you were, too. Akail as well as Toyah managed to finally call his big brother by his name: "'Kail!"

Overall, it was still childish babbling when he looked at you with wide eyes and tried to mimic your cadence and tone, even if his words made no sense. But you held his face and cooed at him what a big and clever boy he was.

Within the fourth month, the weight in your womb grew heavier with every passing day. It pressed against your spine when you stood for too long. It curled inside you when you slept on your side in your nest. Sometimes, in the stillness before dawn, you swore you could feel the pup stretch. A faint flutter. Like a breath under water, tiny bubbles rising to the sparkling surface.

But something else happened.

In the past few days, a discomfort started as a tightness low in your abdomen, making you breathe harder. A fleeting, ugly pinch in your belly like a knot pulled too tight. It wasn't the kind of pain that made you cramp, but the kind that made you pause.

The first time it happened was when you were climbing the stairs with great effort to your home after a visit to the village. Toyah was balanced on your hip, Akail walking ahead of you. A sudden spike of pressure seized your stomach, like it clenched down against itself. It was fast and then gone.

You stopped mid-step, which made your oldest son stop as well and turn. "Mother?"

You quickly smiled at him, waving away the concern that shone in his eyes. "I'm fine, baby." You said as you caught up to him, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance. "I'm just tired."

You didn't want to worry him with a mere tummy ache. It wasn't something unusual to occur and you had them before — with Akail, worse with Toyah. Sure, this one was a little different. It radiated up your side in a thin strain. Not sharp, not dangerous, just wrong. But it wasn't something that a visit to Cahrein wouldn't fix, who would just give you something for the discomfort.

You continued the rest of the walk home, telling Akail to watch his brother while you would go back into the village to discuss some matters regarding a strange desire for raw meat with the healer.

Minutes later, you sat on the edge of the medical table, the glass cool against the heated skin. The palm placed on your belly felt the pup shift inside you, lazy and content, and you felt foolish for worrying so much.

"Pain?" Cahrein asked, already mixing a concerningly gooey substance that looked like glue in a cylindrical glass jar.

"Not really pain. It's more like a sore ache." You shrugged. "Off and on."

The Male nodded with a grunt and put the mixture aside, which had started to sizzle and bubble. He gently pushed you down on your back before his hands poked and prodded along your body. Your belly was firm, the skin stretched taut. The pup moved slowly beneath his touch, a kick strong against his palm that made you hiss.

"Growth is good." He muttered. "Heart feels strong." His hand reached underneath your tunic without a shame and you flinched when you felt his fingers at your core. "No dilation." He added, experienced fingers stroking along your inner walls to feel an anomaly that might cause the pain, but finding none.

He turned to clean his hands, allowing you to sit back up.

"Nothing is wrong?"

"All good." He reassured you when he turned back to you, holding a vial with a familiar soft purple liquid inside it. The strange substance had changed color in mere seconds from a stark white to something that reminded you a lot of lavender. "Remember?"

"Of course." You chuckled and took the vial, gently swirling the liquid. You had never watched him mix the pain reliever, as you like to call it, but couldn't deny that it was fascinating work. Maybe you should reconsider learning from Cahrein. "One in the morning, one in the evening. Not more than two a day and not on any empty stomach."

Cahrein nodded while filling the other vials until nineteen, twenty with the one in your hand, stood next to each other, gleaming mysteriously. You handed yours back to him when he carefully put each vial into the respective tube of the small, metallic cryobox to keep the medicine cool.

You had taken the pain reliever a lot when you were carrying Akail. It was your first and at the same time your hardest pregnancy with lots of cramps and aches. Hopefully, it wouldn't fail you with whatever was wrong this time.

Later at night, as you tried to sleep with both your sons cuddled against your sides, the wind shifted outside the window. It howled down the cliffside in a low, hungry moan. The sound would have made your mate rise from your nest, hands reaching for the dagger he had tucked underneath a layer of pillows. You would calm him down by reassuring him that it was nothing more than the stormy weather announcing a downpour. There was no threat lurking, no warning of an impending danger.

Just the wind.

Weeks later, the ache still lingered. It didn't worsen, thankfully, but it was constant, slipping into your daily rhythm like it belonged there. Sometimes it pulled through your hips like a low tide while other times, it throbbed faintly near your navel when you bent too fast or picked up Toyah despite Cahrein telling you to stop straining yourself.

It was nothing. Once you drank the pain reliever, the ache was gone and you went on with your tasks.

"Mother?" Akail broke the silence of the bedroom, startling you out of your trance of absentmindedly stroking your belly. "Okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay." You smiled at him, watching him as he slowly stalked towards you. "I'm just thinking about your little sibling… it's a lot calmer than you or Toyah." You mused and took one of your son's hands to place it on your baby bump.

The pup was quiet indeed. It didn't roll around as often, didn't kick with the sharp insistence you remembered from your oldest. Even Toyah, wild and tumbling as he had been, had moved with chaotic energy from the second trimester onward. This one preferred to be still, almost shy. It could predict its future behavior as Akail still had that strong resilience and Toyah was still a little chaos on two legs. Someone calm and sweet would be a nice change. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought that this pup could maybe be a girl.

"Is there a reason you're here?" You asked as your eyes moved from his hand cupping your belly to his face.

"The Elders look for advice in matter of Unblooded." Your son rumbled, his thumb stroking over your navel. "Come?"

"Of course." You nodded and took the arm he offered to help you up.

You walked side by side down the path from your home to the village, one of his hands steadying your lower back, the afternoon sun beating down on you. The air was thick with the scent of charcoal, ripe fruits, and smoked meat.

You weren't supposed to be handling much. Cahrein's orders had been clear: limit walking, no strain, especially in the humid air. But your role as the Matriarch didn't disappear just because you were swelling with life.

You glanced up at Akail, who was still a head shorter than his father. His dreads were pulled back with a leather wrap, though a few strands close to his face were hanging free. Trophies, smaller skulls — even the thread of various square stones and animal teeth you had made for him when he was younger — attached to his loincloth clinked with each step.

"You move slow." He grunted.

A smirk tugged at your lips. "Rude."

He shook his head with a rumbling laugh. "True."

When you reached the den of the Elders, Akail held your hand as he helped you inside and positioned himself behind you while you listened to what the older Females had to say before voicing your opinion on the matter. It was nothing too serious, just an Unblooded who still seemed to be too immature for the initiation hunt. He would need more discipline and an understanding of how precious life was, and therefore would not become Blooded this year.

Afterwards, when everything was set and done, they inquired about the process of your pregnancy before bowing their heads in farewell when Akail offered his arm once more to bring you home.

"You're very quiet today, my little warrior. You usually love to tell me about your latest hunt." You said softly, nodding to a few Yautja in greeting as you passed them.

"Listening. Watching." Akail answered with a huff.

You tilted your head to the side. "Learning?"

He nodded. "One day, it be my duty. Me and my mate."

You looked at him with utter affection, cooing at him. "Not yet, my sweetling. You still have time to be young and your father…" You trailed off as it was still a somewhat sensitive topic. "Well, he won't take kindly if you try to take the mantle from him. He is very much in his prime and not going to let go of his position as a leader for another century." You chuckled.

When you reached the path leading up to your home, you mentally sighed at the effort that it would take you to walk up there. In an instant, almost as if he sensed your displeasure, he shifted behind you, lifted you up into his arms, and carried you the rest of the way home.

After the surprise of suddenly being swept off of your feet subsided, you wrapped one arm around his shoulder and rolled your eyes. "You know I have to working feet, right?"

"Swollen."

"They still work. I'm not helpless."

"Father would not want you to walk."

You huffed. "He is not here to make that judgment."

It sounded a lot sharper than you had intended and you immediately felt sorry. After all, it wasn't your son who deserved your anger and frustration.

"Thank you, my sweetling. You're a good Male."

He didn't respond at first, but then, "I try, Mama."

You reached out to stroke his cheek and he nuzzled into your palm. "I'm very proud of you. One day, a Female will be very lucky to-"

"Mama." He groaned, his mandibles spreading slightly.

"What?" You laughed. "I'm just saying. One day, you will find someone special who will make you so happy you can't imagine a life without them."

Like me with your father...

Akail grunted as he entered your home, the door hissing behind you, and steered towards the bedroom where he gently placed you on your nest. "I not need some Female. I hunt and provide for clan, for you, for family. That all I ever need."

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "You are going to change your mind very quickly. When you find the right one."

You startled out of sleep.

Pain, heavier and longer than the one you had felt weeks prior, shot through your body, dragged you out of sleep, and made you gasp.

Then, a sudden wetness between your thighs.

You reached for the hem of your nightgown and pushed it up your thighs.

Red.

Blood.

Not much. Just a smear. Barely anything.

You waited for more pain, a cramping that made your toes curl, but nothing came. There wasn't the heaviness when Toyah decided to be welcomed into the world right when you and your mate were on a hunt.

Still, you moved to get up, feet hitting the cool stone floor.

You should get Cahrein. You should-

Hiss.

You frowned, wondering if Akail had returned sooner from making his rounds, and turned your head to the left. A shadow filled the threshold that was familiar but definitely didn’t belong to Akail.

Broad, towering, drenched in the scent of damp jungle and long travel.

Your mouth opened, then closed, before opening it again.

"Mi'ytiar?" You asked and you hated how meek your voice sounded.

Your mate — you still didn't know if you were dreaming or could actually believe your eyes — stood there, motionless and gleaming, yellow eyes unblinking. A slow exhale rattled from his chest and then, he finally moved. It took him all of five steps until he was standing in front of you and he dropped to the floor on one knee. He didn't reach out for you, didn't dare to touch you, unsure whether he was allowed to or not. His eyes flicked from your face to your belly, where your hand had started to tremble.

Any rational thought left you when you lifted that hand and hit him right across the face. You hoped he felt an ounce of the pain he had inflicted on you in the time he had abandoned you and left you alone to deal with the consequences of your reckless lovemaking.

You stared down at him, at the weight of his great, hulking form bent at your feet like a soldier before its queen. Like a penitent before a shrine. But the sight didn't soften you like it usually would. No, it infuriated you.

"You have the audacity to come home like this? After months of worrying and crying and begging the moons to bring you home when they set and made room for the suns?" You hissed. "Six months, Mi'ytiar. Six. Of carrying our pup without your care or support. Of waking up in our nest without you by my side. Of not knowing where you were or whether you would come back home to me. To us."

You watched Mi'ytiar's mandibles twitch.

"I come home." He said, voice low. "As soon as I could."

You laughed, a dry and humorless sound that caught in your throat like thorns. "As soon as you could?" You echoed and hit his chest with both hands. "How about not leaving me behind at all? How about not fleeing and abandoning everyone when an inconvenience arises?" You hit him again, frustrated tears building up in your eyes. "You left me behind to deal with this situation all on my own while I also had to watch over Toyah and manage our clan. I had my duties to your people, had my duties as a mother, while also making peace with the thought that the love of my life might never come back. Do you even know what I've been through? What your absence did to me?"

Mi'ytiar avoided your penetrating gaze and looked to his side, his grip he had on your calves tightening.

"I walked through the village nearly every day with swollen feet and aching hips. I greeted Hatchlings while my own pup was kicking my ribs. I blessed a union between two warriors and oversaw rites even though I was exhausted from barely sleeping. I kept smiling at our people because they needed their Matriarch to be strong while their leader left without a trace."

You had to take a wavering breath to not let emotions take over.

"And the whole time, I kept looking over my shoulder in hopes you would appear. That you would wrap your arms around me from behind and ground me." You continued and didn't even fight when tears started to well up in your eyes, no matter how fast you fluttered your lashes. "I gave birth to our first in fear and to our second in blood. But it was with you by my side. Now, I thought I would do it again, but alone. Because you weren't there when my belly grew bigger or when the pup started to move for the very first time. You weren't there when Cahrein showed me our baby and told me it had a strong heartbeat."

Your shoulders shook and you had no fight in you when Mi'ytiar gently wiped away your tears with his thumb.

"Do you know who was there? Akail." You whispered. "He helped me stand when I couldn't do it on my own. He carried Toyah when I couldn't anymore. He stood beside me at every gathering, spoke for me when I felt faint, and watched over me because he thought even lifting my arm to drink was too much movement. He is still so young, barely an adult, still figuring out who he is, but he still filled the space you left behind."

You didn't fight it when Mi'ytiar surged to his feet, lifted you from where you sat on the edge of your nest, turned to sit there himself, and placed you on his lap. You buried your face in his chest, not fighting the yearning you had for him anymore, and cried. You hated yourself for giving in so easily, but you had missed him too much to fight the ache of touching him any longer. You had craved him, the comfort and strength of his arms, the luring sound of his purrs, the rumble in his chest when he spoke to you. You wouldn't forgive him for what he did, not for a while, but you also wouldn't let your anger stand between you and him when you needed him more than air to breathe.

You felt him shift slightly, the furs rustling beneath his massive frame, and a hand placed on your belly, holding it there as a silent apology to his pup. His clawed fingers splayed wide across the expanse of your stretched skin.

"I was wrong to leave." He rasped, his face nuzzling into your hair. "I nearly lose you twice. I not survive third time. I rather have you hate me. Rather never touch you. Never look at you than…" His voice broke. "Than hear your heart slow. Feel your body go limp. Know I fail you again…"

His free arm wrapped around your upper back, oh so carefully, like the delicate weight of you and your pup might break if he held you too tightly or too hard. You could feel his heart pounding beneath the layers of meat and muscles. The sound would soothe you often times when the silence got too much some nights.

"Sorry… so sorry." He rumbled. "For moments you felt alone. For nights I not lie beside you. For times our sons need me and I was not there. For your tears, your sorrow, your fear. I fail you, fail our pup."

You clung to him as you listened, fingers curling into the thick tendrils at the base of his skull, holding his head close to you like he was the only stable thing in a world that had been spinning too fast.

"I just wanted you, tahní." You sobbed and finally found enough courage to lift your face from his chest to look at him. "I didn't want the leader, didn't want the warrior, not the protector. I just wanted you, Mi'ytiar. My mate and the love of my life. To hold me and comfort me, to tell me everything will turn out the way we want."

Mi'ytiar clicked with his mandibles and cupped your cheeks, letting the tusks gently trace the lines of your eyebrows and the curve of your lips.

"Forgive me." He purred, leaning his forehead against yours. "I fear seeing you suffer. I fear seeing death chase you again. I not bear to watch, so I left. I love you too much to witness you leave me in this world, so I leave before you."

"This one… it doesn't have to be like before." You whispered, voice a mere croak. "Cahrein has the necessary tools and techniques. He just couldn't use them last time with Toyah. This time… this time I will stay home, inside the clan's borders until the end of this pregnancy. Even if labor sets in a month earlier, he will help in an instant." You placed your hand on one of his massive ones that were holding your face. "Just don't vanish again."

"I swear." He vowed, breath mingling with yours. "I rather die."

The days following his return were pure euphoria.

When you woke up in the morning, it was in your mate's arms. You weren't alone, not cold, not reaching into the empty space where he used to be.

Mi'ytiar was right there. He was no longer a shadow that haunted you, but solid and constant when you touched him. He didn't disappear anymore when you opened your eyes or wanted to take him in your arms. He was indeed there and he would never leave again.

He had taken on the habit of sleeping around you like a fortress, curled protectively around your back with one heavy arm draped over your side, large hand spread wide over your lower stomach. You didn't seem to be the only one to try to anchor you in this fragile peace as if he was afraid you would vanish into thin air if he put too much pressure in his touch.

You seemed to be the only one happy about him being back in your nest. Toyah had made quite a ruckus when he noticed you were carrying him into his own room to sleep instead of yours. The looks Mi'ytiar had received in the morning were piercing and only softened when the little one was clinging to his father's biceps, greedily scarfing down the meat he had brought back with him. It seemed the easiest way to earn Toyah's forgiveness was through his stomach.

Your older son, on the other hand, was a little harder to persuade. Despite the begrudging respect Akail carried for his father, the tension between them was icy. Mi'ytiar had looked at you for help, but you weren't going to move a muscle to give him hints on how to gain back his son's trust. In the end, both of them had a very long talk about duty and the fragility of life.

Your mate had easily slipped back into his role as leader, though this time, he didn't completely vanish in it. His warriors noticed the difference immediately: his orders were just as sharp and his stance just as commanding, but his focus was split between them and the residence overlooking the village, his wrist gauntlet buzzed only from incoming calls from you, and his fury flared when you were spoken of without reverence. He delegated more often now, sending trusted seconds to handle inter-clan talks or patrol strategy while remaining closer to home. He would sit through reports with you in his lap and allow council disputes to continue longer than necessary just so he could keep you there a little longer.

Your own routines had become slower. Every movement was deliberate, your steps cautious, your arms cradling the swell of your belly. The pup was quiet, as if it was constantly sleeping, and you were thankful that you were spared the pain of little kicks.

Every time Mi'ytiar thought it happened too long ago — which, in reality, only meant 20 minutes — he would drop down on his knees and nuzzle his face into your belly, rumbling apology after apology before drifting to how he couldn't wait for this pup to be born. In his eyes, he owed the baby a lot of making up, too, which, in your eyes, made it a lot harder to stay mad at him for much longer.

But you wouldn't waver in your resolution. You had endured too much alone to be reliant. Therefore, in a thousand different ways, he showed that he carried a heavy guilt in every breath and that he was ready to have your forgiveness only when you were ready to give it.

It was the small things that broke your walls down. He would see you sigh at your swollen feet that ached the second you stood and the full weight of your pregnant belly put more pressure on them, and he would scoop you in his arms to carry you to whatever destination you needed to be.

"You not carry this alone anymore."

Your Matriarchal duties were never attended alone anymore. It was different than when Akail helped you through the more straining ones. Now, it was the great Mi'ytiar, who stood beside his mate, sometimes with an arm curled around your waist, or stood behind you, his hand on the underside of your belly to lift it and carry its weight for you for a while. He didn't intervene as it were your tasks, no matter how many came to him to ask him something. He would simply look down at you, waiting for your answer.

"My mate is more capable than I."

In the evening, when it was time to rest, he would have your legs in his lap and massage them with low purrs of "Hurt?" and "Better?" Even though his muscles trembled and his bones ached from mastering his own tasks, your comfort came before his. Always.

He cooked for you himself, steaming roots and soft meats the way you started to crave.

He handwashed your garments himself, using oils so the fabrics wouldn't irritate your soft skin.

He brushed and braided your hair himself, taking his time untangling every knot before focusing on lacing every strand the right way.

He bathed you himself, massaging a mixture of crushed herbs into your skin before washing it off.

It wasn't much different from the other two times you carried his offspring, but he seemed much more obsessive with making sure that you didn't make any unnecessary movements and stopped leaving your home, which meant you were once more tied to your nest.

You wanted fruits? No problem. He carried two baskets underneath his arms that were filled to the brim with a variety of them and placed them next to you on the nest.

You wanted meat? No problem. He sent out a hunting party that brought in enough to feed the whole village for a few days and fed you every bite sitting on the edge of the nest.

You wanted sweets? No problem. He arrived with a ship that was laden with all sorts of snacks, sweet and sugary to spicy and salty, and some whose brands actually lasted over a century and which you recognized from your childhood before scarfing down five packages of Ritter Sport chocolates.

Don't ask how he got them and how many stores he visited to bring you a decades-long ration of candy.

He would give you anything and do anything as long as you stayed in your nest and left everything to him to handle. As much as you were annoyed, wanting to tell him that he had no say in what you were allowed to do and what not while being pregnant when you had your and partly his duties to master while he was gone, you kept your mouth shut and stayed put. You knew he was trying to make up for what he had done and the last thing you wanted to do was make it any harder for him.

You understood him. You truly did. He couldn't handle the reality of another pup growing inside your womb and the way you were so calm with it while he was dying inside. It didn't mean you weren't worried, that there weren't a million thoughts running through your head, but you had made your choice the second you had confirmation of a third pregnancy. But Mi'ytiar was different, felt different. Where you chose your pups over your life, he chose your life over his pups. It didn't mean that he didn't love his sons to bits, but he could have lived without any offspring and just you by his side to his last breath, dying happily and with no regrets. So you being ready to embrace the possibility of death yet again was not something he could cope with well. He left because he couldn't handle seeing you grow the very thing that might suck the life out of you, because he would go mad if he had to watch it.

You knew it was a selfish decision, but you wanted this. More than anything. And Cahrein, having the right methods, tools, and medicine since Akail's birth, encouraged you in your choice. This time, he could use them. This time, you would stay home until your pup was born. This time, nothing would go wrong. You were sure of it. After all, you had everything and everyone prepared for every possible complication. Your pup could come now and you were ready for an early birth.

There was nothing you weren't prepared for.

You woke to the sound of rustling beside you and the lack of the heavy warmth of Mi'ytiar's arm. The room was dim when you blinked your eyes, one of the twin suns slowly creeping behind the mountain chain.

Your arm instinctively curled around your belly and your hand felt the warm skin underneath your palm. The pup was quiet, probably still sleeping, so you tried to roll on your back carefully as you could manage. When you did, you noticed that the spot next to you was empty. Instead of feeling the same dread you had felt in the early months of your pregnancy at that sight, you pouted because you weren't woken up by his tusks poking you when he nuzzled your face.

Your pout didn't last long because in the next second, the door of your bedroom opened with a hiss and the familiar chuff of breath he always made when entering your shared space reached your ears. You turned your head and smiled at your mate, standing there, tall and imposing, yet softened by domesticity. He neither wore his armor nor any garments of a clan leader, just a simple loincloth, leather "boots" and his wrist gauntlet.

The scent of something fruity and smoky wafted towards you, and your mouth started to water in an instant.

"Hungry?" Mi'ytiar rumbled and climbed onto your nest.

You smiled sleepily and tried to push yourself upright with a grunt. "I hope no bloody biiari this time." You yawned and rubbed at your eyes. "It makes the pup angry."

He sat next to you and placed the plate in his hand on your lap before he moved to help you and braced your lower back with a hand. "I remember."

Once you were sitting, you looked at what he had brought you. The plate was filled with a small selection of ju'vaii — a bright, oval fruit with its outside fuzzy and the inside neon pink and juicy — and strips of meat that could only be vxanti, an animal the size of an elephant and the resemblance of a praying mantis.

You didn't waver long and stuffed a strip of vxanti meat into your mouth, sighing in delight as it almost melted on your tongue as you chewed.

Mi'ytiar let out a low, pleased purr with his chest puffing out and brushed a strand of your nest hair out of your face. "Only best for mate. You eat little yesterday."

"I wasn't that hungry." You shrugged and slurped the pink, fruity meat out of its shell.

He huffed and stroked your belly, waiting for a response. When none came and he visibly deflated, you laughed before saying, "Stop bothering your son. You kept him up for too long last night." with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "And me, too. You and your wandering hands."

Mi'ytiar just growled and stuffed your mouth with another strip of meat.

You hastily chewed before you could ask, "Are you happy with another boy?"

Your mate looked at you before cupping your stomach, a rumble vibrating through his chest and against your back. "Yes. Very happy. But would not mind a girl born with your fire."

You snorted, tilting your head back so you could look up at him. "She would drive you mad, my love."

"I let her." He answered without hesitation and with such seriousness that you couldn't stop the laugh bubbling in your throat.

For a while, the two of you sat there in your nest, you eating while you both listened to the jungle waking up beyond the cliff wall. You were leaning against him and felt the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of his heart beating against your shoulder. His hands were gently detangling your hair, carefully not to pull on your scalp when there were stubborn knots.

It were moments like these, this peace, that you had longed for over the months he had vanished. And now that it was there, it made the ache in your whole body feel like nothing.

But something else was starting to make itself more noticeable.

A twinge.

It wasn't painful or anything, just pressure that hadn't been there yesterday.

For now, it was something to easily brush off, so you did. You took another fruit and sucked the meat into your mouth while humming to Mi'ytiar, drawing circles on your back, twitching here and there in his embrace when his claw caught a spot where you were extremely ticklish.

"Akail escort you later today?" He asked, voice low and slightly edged.

You nodded between bites. "Yes. We'll visit Cahrein for the last check-up. He has been pestering me for weeks."

In truth, you had missed the last two check-ups, but in your defense, a lot had happened at that time. Going to the healer to get your stomach measured and your vagina looked at had been secondary to you.

Mi'ytiar's mandibles twitched before he grunted. "I join after noon."

You swallowed and looked at him with a raised brow. "You will?"

"I miss too much when I was gone. I not want to miss any more."

You smiled at that and returned to eat your breakfast.

After that, your mate left your nest with a brush of his forehead against yours and readied himself for the day, putting on his armor and the rest of his attire fit for a Yautja of his station before his heavy footfalls disappeared into the hall with the echo of a warrior returning to his duties. The bedroom was left in a soft and calm silence, and you let out a slow breath as you pushed the plate from your lap and sank back into the plush warmth of your nest. You ran your fingers over the soft furs underneath you, drawing idle lines, letting the quiet settle around you like a blanket.

Toyah was still sleeping in his room. Otherwise, you would have already heard his calls for you, announcing he was ready to start the day, too.

However, you carefully shuffled out of bed and reached for the plate, where three pieces of ju'vaii were still left. You waddled out of the bedroom and turned to the left in the entrance hall, entering the pup's nursery. Toyah was slumbering in his crib, curled into a small ball and occasionally letting out soft clicking noises.

You smiled, picked up a piece of fruit from the plate, and placed the plate to the side before your fingers carefully dug out the fruity meat from the shell. "Toyah." You cooed and brushed your knuckles across his cheek.

He stirred, a squeaky yawn escaping his throat, followed by a sleepy, "Naah?"

"Good morning, baby." You greeted him and waved the fruit in front of his face. "Do you want to help Mama with her breakfast?"

His eyes blinked open, eyes glazed and still half-lost in sleep. He made a soft cooing noise and reached out a tiny, clawed hand out. You fed him the ju'vaii before you helped him sit up in his crib and placed the plate in front of him. He ate the rest without a fuss, and you watched with a smile as he slowly started to wake up and grow aware of his surroundings.

He chewed and swallowed the last piece before he looked at you and reached a sticky hand out to your stomach. “Ba… ba…”

"Yes, my sweeting." You cooed and kissed the crown of his head. "Your baby brother is going to be here very soon."

You lifted him from his nest, washed and clothed him before you took him to the entrance door, where a caretaker was already waiting. As much as it pained you, having someone else watch over him with other pups as his company was a relief. The pup inside you was already demanding enough and Toyah, although aware of the life in your belly, was too energetic sometimes. You were thankful that you didn't have the stress of running after him anymore, or the fear and pain of him accidentally kicking or hitting your stomach when he got too excited in your arms.

Akail arrived soon after.

"Mother." He greeted you, bowing his head in respect. "Ready?"

"Give me a minute, baby, okay? I need to fix this mess-" You pointed to your hair. "-before we're going anywhere at all."

"I do it." He offered, wrapped one arm around your back, and took your arm with the other, walking you back to your nest. "I braid for you."

"You know how?"

"I watch Father."

Your lower lip trembled and he quickly steered you towards your bedroom. He was well accustomed to how quickly your emotions could change and before you could start to cry and baby him again — which you had done every time when he, an adult, in your words, "acted like an adult" — he asked which type of braid you wanted, to which you replied, "Surprise me."

He grabbed your hairbrush and a woven thread, and gently worked on your hair, his fingers careful not to pull too tightly. He weaved each section of your hair like the mere act of it was a gesture of service and honor. He did it with such concentration and discipline, which he usually used when he sharpened his daggers, that it almost made you laugh. Mind you, it was a skill that wasn't fit for Yautja hair and therefore useless for his possible future mate. It was simply for you.

"Too tight?" He asked when he was done and brushed the nape of your neck with a claw.

You shook your head. "No, it's perfect. Thank you, my little warrior."

He tied off the end with the woven thread and stepped around to face you, his golden eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. You gave him a cheeky smile and reached your hands out to him. He gently grasped them and pulled you to your feet.

It was adorable how easily he slipped into the caretaker role again, where he would wake up next to you, bring you to the bathroom, get you breakfast, and help you dress. You really had to bite down on your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something when he went through your clothes to pick something out for you, like he had done for months.

While his back was turned to you, you were able to let the wince show on your face that was caused when a dull ache pulsed through your lower back. You hid it quickly, gritting your teeth, when your oldest turned back to you with a flowy dress in his hands. He helped you step out of your nightgown and into the dress, pulling it up and tying the straps that held the dress up at the nape of your neck.

When you deemed yourself representable for the people's eyes to see you in passing, you took Akail's offered arm and started your walk — to you, it had become quite a journey — to Cahrein's healing den. His body was firm and steady beside yours as you so very slowly walked down the path from your home and into the village. Once there, you were greeted by Males and Females the like. The pressure in your lower back had worsened again and while there was no stabbing pain, there was a growing sense of heaviness that made it hard to breathe properly. You would address that once you were at Cahrein's.

You watched two Younglings chasing each other through the paths, yipping and squealing in excitement, but when they noticed Akail's looming frame, they quickly scattered. You laughed at his scowl.

He kept on walking, slow, his pace adjusted to match yours. He paused when you needed a break, one breath through the building pressure that had reached your core, and stayed silent as you gathered your composure. He stood there, rubbing your lower back, and waited until you were ready to continue.

That kind of steadiness… it reminded you a lot of his father.

"Carry you?" He asked after your third break.

"No, I think I can manage a few more-"

You stopped.

Mid-breath. Mid-step. Mid-thought.

Because suddenly, your entire lower stomach seized up like a vice. A sharp, twisted pressure wrapped around your pelvis with such a force that it punched a strained cry from your chest. You gasped, your free hand shooting to your belly as the pressure spread like a low wave down your thighs.

Akail was instantly in front of you and grasped your upper arms to keep you steady. "Mother!"

And then, you felt it. A pop followed by wetness. A heat that rushed between your legs and began to pool at your feet. The thin fabric of your dress clung to your thighs and darkened.

"Akail… my water broke." You rasped, your fingers digging into his flesh.

He didn't need another word. His arms swept under your knees and shoulders before you could collapse under the pressure of another cramp, and lifted you up like you weighed nothing at all. You clung to him as your body tensed up again, another surge of pain riding your spine and forcing the air from your lungs.

Akail tried not to jostle you in his arms too much, scared he would hurt you any further, while he ran to Cahrein's lab, dodging everyone in his way. They seemed to know what was happening as they looked either happy or worried as your son dashed past them.

Cahrein was at the door, just opening it to leave, when he nearly collided with Akail. He didn't need to ask what was going on and immediately slipped into his role as healer.

"Put her down. Here." He instructed and pointed to the medical bed.

Akail, gently as ever, laid you down on the black leather cushion that cooled your heated skin. Knowing that you were in good hands, he bolted back out of the door to get his father. You could hear his heavy footsteps until they were too far away and Cahrein's rustling through his tools drowned out any other sound.

Cahrein was already lifting your dress, peeling it from your legs where it was sticking to your skin, and watched the blood pooling from your core. His mandibles twitched and he let out an irritated grunt before he switched on a hovering monitor that flickered to life, displaying strange glyphs you couldn't read on its screen.

You couldn't speak, couldn't breathe — the familiarity of that sensation not calming you down in the slightest. You barely registered the thunder that was your mate barging inside and bellowing, "Where is she?!"

You turned your head just in time to see him rush to your side, his golden eyes wild and his breath ragged. His dreads swung loosely behind his back, the beads of bone that you had lovingly tied to them clinking with every hasty movement. He zeroed in on your blood-slicked legs, then on your face that was twisted in discomfort. He was at your side in two strides and dropped to his knees with his massive hands trembling as they reached out for you.

"Here, here, my heart." He rasped, voice raw with pain.

"It's time, tahní." You pressed through your teeth, your fingers wrapping around his like a lifeline and squeezing. "I know it's too early, but this is how we got Toyah, so don’t start to worry. This is nothing new."

He nodded and brushed a loose strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. He looked to Cahrein, who placed your feet on the leathery cushion of the medical bed and spread your thighs. From what he saw, he deemed you ready and nodded once at his leader.

Mi'ytiar turned back to you and pulled your head to his shoulder, gently, reverently, like you were made of fragile porcelain. His tusks brushed your temple and the shell of your ear when he murmured, "I take every breath with you. I roar through your pain. If you break, I break beside you. Now push, Yawne."

When the next contraction hit, you bore down on it and screamed while he held you closely. He wiped your tears and whispered encouraging words into your ear as your labor came in waves, sharp and unrelenting. He held you through it when you screamed, when you sobbed, when your body seized and shook with effort and exhaustion.

And suddenly, it was over. The pain subsided like a wave receding to the sea, pulling the last dregs of agony from your trembling body. You collapsed back against the bed with a sound that was half laugh and half cry as you felt the final shift inside you, the wet and unmistakable sensation of your pup slipping from your womb and into awaiting hands.

It was done.

You gasped for air, chest heaving and sweat cooling against your skin. Your hands reached out instinctively, impatient to finally hold him, unaware of the disturbed expression on Cahrein's face as he gazed down at your pup.

"Please give him to me." You panted, now sitting up a little, ignoring the discomfort it caused you. "Cahrein, please… my boy."

Mi'ytiar, meanwhile, had left your side to join the healer and what he saw almost brought him to his knees in distress. You seemed to be oblivious to it all as you started making grabby hands at your pup.

"Mi'ytiar?" You asked softly. "Is he beautiful?"

You were still smiling, still blissfully unaware.

Cahrein hesitated.

Too long for your taste.

"Cahrein." Your voice was now harder and more insistent with the need to have your pup in your arms. "Give me my son.

"(Y/N)…" Cahrein started, but before he could continue, could find the right words, you let out a coo.

"Hello, my beautiful boy." You purred at the infant in your arms.

Only he wasn't. While you saw an adorable and healthy Yautja pup in your arms, looking so much like his older brothers at their birth, the body you held didn't resemble them in the slightest. It was frail and ash-grey with gummy limbs like there were no bones in them and smooth, scaleless skin. There were no eyes, a small hole where the mouth should have been, and a flat nose.

In a certain light, it looked human.

But you didn't see any of this and were too busy marveling at your third son and the fact that he had been an uncomplicated birth. You didn't seem to acknowledge the unnatural dents that followed your fingers when you caressed his little head, didn't seem to notice the lack of a heartbeat as your fingertips trailed down to his chest.

"There you are." You cooed, brushing your lips against his temple. "We've waited quite a while to meet you."

Yautja weren't able to cry tears, but if they could, Mi'ytiar would have filled the whole room with tears. His chest seemed to tighten and it made him unable to breathe as he had to watch the love of his life live a fantasy right in front of his eyes while he had to bear with the reality.

Your pup was stillborn. An undeveloped fetus. A miscarriage.

He fell on one knee, unable to look away from the way you doted on the corpse of what should have been your pup. He listened to your soft humming, a tune you always sang to your boys when they nursed, and his chest hurt like it had been pierced by a dagger and twisted until all that remained was broken, bloody ruin. His breaths came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to keep his composure.

You were still humming when your fingers trailed over your pup's smooth, cooling skin before whispering sweet promises of introducing him to his older brothers, that Akail would preen at the sight of him, and that Toyah would share his toys with him once he was old enough to hold something.

You barely noticed Cahrein crouch beside you, too lost in the perfect being that was your son.

“(Y/N).” He said softly with all the tenderness he could muster. "The pup-"

"He is beautiful." You repeated and brushed your knuckles across the infant's jaw, even though there was none. "I know. My mate tends to make beautiful pups."

Cahrein lifted his hand, claws flexing, and placed his fingers on the pup's chest. "There no heartbeat." He said carefully. "Feel here." He removed his fingers, grasped your wrist, and gently guided your hand where his had been just now. "No rise. No beat."

You frowned a little. "He's just tired. The labor was quick. Maybe it was hard for him." You adjusted the pup in your arms. "Give him a moment."

Mi'ytiar made a low, strangled sound beside you. A wounded and broken exhale like something collapsed inside of him.

"I… I know what I'm seeing." You muttered, refusing to meet their eyes. "I know what I'm holding."

But your tone shook with uncertainty now.

Your thumb grazed the soft, smooth skin of your pup's skull again and felt how it dented beneath the slightest pressure. It felt like uncooked dough. And… cold. Had it always been like that? Had it ever been warm?

"…he's small." You noted. "Akail and Toyah were also this small, right? When they first… when they first came out?"

The healer didn't speak, only bowed his head.

Your eyes drifted back to your son and scanned his body once more.

The ridges where his dreads would grow weren't there.

No light shimmered across scaled skin.

There were no scales at all.

And the limbs were too thin.

The fingers were curled, but missed the tiny spikes that were the claws.

Your mouth opened slightly, your lips trembling.

"He's…" You paused. "He's not… why isn't he crying?"

Cahrein looked at his leader for help, but Mi'ytiar couldn't move. He had sunk down to the floor, his back hunched, his head pressed to the floor, and his hands clenched into fists.

You, meanwhile, were still studying your pup. The tiny chest did indeed not move, no matter how long you waited or stared. The little face you had kissed was suddenly a horrifying sight and only now did you notice how his head had lolled to the side at an unnatural angle when you had shifted him in your arms.

Then, you screamed.

A new wave of tears with a new meaning rolled down your cheeks as you clutched your pup to your chest and screamed.

Mi'ytiar stood then. He stumbled as he pushed himself off the floor and in your direction, arms encircling your body, while Cahrein quickly took the pup from yours.

"NO!" You screamed and hit your mate with your fists, trying to push him away. "Don't! Don't take him from me! H-He's still warm! He… he's just quiet! I need to feed him or-"

"My love…" Mi'ytiar grunted into your ear, hands cupping your face. "He look like he be quiet for months."

The words split you open.

You stared at him.

He didn't…

Months? Not minutes? Not hours? Months?

With your nail dug deep in Mi'ytiar's shoulders, you watched the pup in Cahrein's hands.

The pup's arms hung floppy from the side of his palms and when he moved, there was a strange bounce in them.

"No… no, he isn't… he's just a little slow. He'll be okay. Cahrein, say he will be okay… please."

When there was no answer, your body fell forward until your forehead pressed into your mate's chest and you sobbed until the pain inside you had a voice of its own. It felt like every wish to live had drained from your body and for a moment, it seemed rational to think like that, but then hate at your selfishness set in.

What of your family if you would succumb to your grief? What of Mi'ytiar, who was just as part of this as you were? What of Akail, who still looked for your reassurance? What of Toyah, who was only one year old and very much dependent on you?

Giving up meant giving them up and you would never turn your back on your family, not until your last breath.

Life returned to your limbs and you wrapped them around your mate, holding him just as tightly he was holding you while crying for the lost life of your pup.

Cahrein disappeared for a moment to bring the pup away and when he returned, he barely dared to utter his next words, "We must prepare his body. The rites must be performed."

Mi'ytiar pulled his face from the crook of your neck and gave a slow, reluctant nod.

"We preserve him for three days." The healer added softly. "He be laid to rest in clan pyre with honor. As it is custom."

You couldn't speak, your empty gaze fixed on the walls, but you still managed to nod.

Your mind was empty as Mi'ytiar whispered sweet nothings in your ear and Cahrein left to inform the Elder Females, whose role was to prepare the body of a fallen warrior. You felt numb, disconnected, when your beloved eased you back into a reclined position. You didn't notice the healer's swift return and barely registered your limbs being lifted, your pulse taken, and your belly and vagina checked.

"Slight tearing." He noted after a moment, talking more to Mi'ytiar than to you. "Slight internal bruising. She need rest, fluids and monitoring."

"She in danger?"

"No, but the tear need fixing."

Cahrein moved with efficiency as he crushed a familiar plaster, melted it, and added the blue solvent before mixing it into a gel. He signaled your mate to hold you still and once he did, the healer grabbed one of the tools that he had laid out in preparation for the birth. He had used it for inspections on you when he needed to look inside and now it would come in handy when he needed to apply the gel. He tried to be extra gentle when he inserted it inside you and spread you open, knowing it must be painful, especially after just giving birth, but it needed to be done. As he applied the gel, he listened to you scream in pain when the burning set in that would seal the tear in mere seconds and then to Mi'ytiar purring words of comfort into your ear.

"Take her home." Cahrein said when he was done. "I visit tomorrow."

With that, Mi'ytiar carefully scooped you up without waiting for further approval. You felt weak in his arms, trembling from loss and exhaustion, and he cradled you with more care than he should have mustered at this moment.

The walk back home was silent, save for the thuds of his feet on stone. You buried your face in his chest so you wouldn't have to look at the Yautja that had gathered.

They knew, of course. It was a clear sign that the day of celebration had turned into one of mourning. There was no crying of a hatchling, no happy smiles on your faces, and no pride that puffed out their leader's chest. There was just a Male carrying his broken mate home after a loss that was still too great to fully comprehend.

Relief flooded the both of you when you walked over the threshold of your home and the warmth of the fire burning around your nest enveloped your bodies. Gently, he laid you down, adjusting every pelt, fur, and woolen blanket until you were cocooned in softness. Then he lay beside you, chest to your back, arms circling your body like a shield.

Only when your eyes closed, the events of the day too much to bear anymore, did Mi'ytiar allow himself to break. His chest rumbled softly in near-silent sobs as he buried his face into the nape of your neck and mourned the son, who would never experience his mother's and father's love.

The flames were already rising on the day of farewell when he arrived at the ceremonial ground with you at his side. The sacred pyre had been prepared by Males who were closest to their leader — a circle of dark stones surrounding a tall, split pillar of obsidian. This was where the fallen were honored.

The smoke didn't carry the smell of death. Instead, it was heavy with oils, resins, and herbs chosen by the Matriarchal line of thousands of years to sweeten in passing. It was the final act of a Yautja's journey to the ancestral plane.

You walked without help, but only barely. Mi'ytiar was so close, you could feel his breath fanning across your skin, the twitch of his arms that wanted to shield you from it all. But this part, this moment, belonged to you as much as to him. As the mother, the Matriarch, you had to see it through.

The body of your pup had already been placed into the pyre. His body was wrapped in a black cloth that had once been a shawl of yours, protecting you from the cold nights on Yautja Prime. Now, you hoped it would keep your little boy warm as well in dhi'ki-de, the Long Sleep.

You glanced to the side to look at your mate, whose mandibles were tense and his head bowed so low, you could barely see his eyes. You had never seen him like this. He had once ripped a Xenomorph queen in half in front of a cheering crowd, roared at chieftains who threatened his rule, and butchered beasts three or four times his size with nothing but twin daggers. And now that same Yautja was trembling beside you as he tried to keep his grief at bay.

When you glanced to your other side, Akail was staring blankly at the fire while holding Toyah in his arms. The little one couldn't understand what death was yet, but still, he had noticed that the life inside your belly was gone now. Your oldest, on the other hand, hadn't spoken a word since his father had broken the news about his brother being born without a heartbeat. You knew that he would come to you and talk. That was what he had always done. He just needed time.

And now, it was your turn to say goodbye.

You stepped forward and turned to face the clan, the fire behind you hissing and crackling like it knew what it would consume.

"The child, Vay'nai, is given to the flame." You started the rites and it cost you your last strength not to let your voice tremble. "He returns to the stars without a scream or a cry, but not without honor. For even hatchlings carry the blood of hunters and blood never fades."

A hum rolled through the crowd, a low and mournful sound of resonance.

You blinked and took a shaky breath, the role of the Matriarch shifting into that of the mother. "I carried him. I carried him with love and care. That's all I gave him from the moment I realized he existed."

You turned to touch the cloth one last time, your hand lingering close to your pup's head. Not to pull the covering back and see the face because there was no face you could endure to look at. But your fingers stayed and your tears fell before you could stop them.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you the life you deserved, too." You whispered before you stepped back.

Mi'ytiar was the one to transfer the burning fire to the small pile of wood his son was lying on. He approached with a torch and held it into the fire before touching the wood with the burning tip. The flames didn't leap, they climbed, curling upward as though reaching for the hatchling with careful arms to carry him into the world he belonged to.

Your mate returned to your side just in time when your knees started to buckle. He caught you before you hit the ground and pulled you into his lap after sitting down on the stone floor. You turned in his arms, shaking and face wet and hot. Your whole body quaked with the effort of not screaming, not letting your grief out the way you wanted. Because you couldn't break. Not again. Not in front of your mate, not in front of your children.

So you watched the flames fully enveloping the body of your son, watched as the fire consumed him.

You stayed until only ashes remained.