“It's not a burden.”
“Female's body will think otherwise after carrying twelve eggs for weeks.” But this one says it fondly. “Rest now. Eat the foods this one prepared while healing. Let exhaustion fade completely. Then, at evening tide, we begin.”
Female nods against this one's chest. “I'm ready. Scared but ready.”
“Fear is appropriate. This is unknown territory for both of us.” This one's tentacles stroke her back gently. “But this one knows female's strength now. Knows what she can endure. Knows she will carry the eggs magnificently, protect them fiercely, birth them when time comes.”
“Our children,” she says quietly.
“Our future.”
They stay like that for long moment. Then female pulls away, swimming to find the food this one mentioned. This onewatches her move through the water, her body cutting through it smoothly, and marvels at what she has become.
The woman who stepped through portal sixteen days ago could never have done what she did these last three days. Could never have defended territory against multiple hunters. Could never have become true partner rather than just protected mate.
But this woman, this transformed being who carries both species' traits, she can do anything.
The pressure inside this one's body builds as anticipation joins physical need. Evening tide is hours away. The eggs pulse impatiently, ready for transfer, ready for the womb that will nurture them properly.
This one's breeding tentacles are already swelling, preparing. The primary tentacle will carry each egg through its length, depositing them one by one into female's waiting womb. The secondary tentacle will provide stimulation, ensure female's body remains receptive and eager throughout the process.
By tonight, female will carry all twelve. Will glow from within. Will be heavy with the future this one has waited forty seasons to create.
This one begins preparing the nest. Arranging the soft materials, adjusting the temperature, ensuring everything is perfect for hours of intimate connection. The anticipation is almost painful now, mixing with the physical pressure until thinking becomes difficult.
But this one forces discipline. Female needs time. Needs to be strong. Needs to be ready.
So this one waits.
NAIA
The evening tide rises as I float in the warm pool beside our nest.
I've spent the day preparing. Eating the nutrient-rich foods Aylth gathered. Resting. Letting my body recover from three days of combat. But my mind won't settle. It keeps circling back to what's about to happen.
Twelve eggs.
The concept feels impossible even after Aylth's explanation. His body created them during the frenzy, and now they're ready to transfer into mine. I'll carry them for weeks, maybe a month. They'll grow inside me, glow inside me, become our children.
Our future.
I touch my belly, still flat, still empty. In a few hours, that will change completely.
“Female is nervous,” Aylth observes from where he's arranging the nest. He's been obsessively adjusting the soft materials, testing the temperature, making everything perfect.
“Wouldn't you be?”
“This one is terrified.” The admission surprises me. He usually maintains that formal confidence. “This one has neverdone this. Never carried eggs. Never transferred them. Ancient instinct guides, but conscious mind worries.”
“What if something goes wrong?”
“Nothing will go wrong.” He moves to the pool's edge, tentacles reaching for me. “Female's body was modified specifically for this. The tonic prepared her womb, altered her chemistry, made her capable of carrying hybrid offspring. This one's biology knows what to do. Female's biology knows what to do. We trust that knowledge.”
I let him pull me from the pool. The air feels cool against my wet skin despite the chamber's warmth. Every nerve ending is awake, aware. The bioluminescent marks on my body pulse brighter than usual, responding to my heightened state.
Aylth lifts me onto the nest. The materials beneath me are impossibly soft, warm, slightly yielding. He's created a cradle that will support my body for hours without discomfort.
“This one needs female to understand something before we begin,” he says, his hands framing my face. “This is not breeding. Not mating. This is different.”
