Evenings belong to the most aquatic ones. Aylth takes them to deeper waters, showing them the reef, introducing them to creatures they'll need to recognize. I watch from the palace, trusting him completely while anxiety gnaws at my chest every time they're out of sight.
Nights are chaos. Twelve babies on different sleep schedules means someone is always awake, always needing something. Aylth and I take shifts, but exhaustion blurs the boundaries. Sometimes I wake to find him handling what should be my responsibility. Sometimes he sleeps while I do what he should manage. We're too tired to keep score.
Three weeks after hatching, all twelve children finally sleep through the night for the first time.
The silence wakes me. After weeks of constant noise, constant demands, the quiet feels wrong. I surface from sleep in a panic, already reaching for the nearest baby.
“They're safe,” Aylth murmurs, his hand catching mine. “All of them sleep. This one checked twice.”
I look around our chamber. The children are scattered across various sleeping ledges, some in water, some in air, all of them glowing softly in the darkness. Their tiny chests rise and fall in steady rhythm. Marina is curled against Kael, her human warmth keeping his fragile body comfortable. Tempest has claimed an entire ledge for herself, tentacles spread wide even in sleep.
They're fine. They're perfect. They're just sleeping.
“We have the night to ourselves,” I say, and the realization feels surreal.
“First time since hatching.” Aylth pulls me closer, and I notice his touch feels different. Less careful, less focused on practicality. “Female has been working constantly. Needs rest.”
“I need something.” I shifted in his embrace to face him. “But I don't think it's rest.”
Aylth's eyes darken as he understands what I'm saying. “Female's body has healed?”
“Three weeks ago. But there hasn't been time, or energy, or...” I trail off, suddenly uncertain. “Do you still want me? Like that? After everything?”
He makes a sound that's pure disbelief. “Female questions this one's desire?”
“I'm different now. My body changed so much carrying them. And I'm tired all the time, and I probably smell like baby spit-up, and I don't look anything like I did when we started this.”
His hand cups my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. The silver-blue glows bright even in the dim chamber. “Female is more beautiful now than the day she arrived.”
“You're just saying that because?—”
“This one is saying it because it is truth.” His thumb strokes my cheekbone, the touch gentle but firm. “Female's body created twelve lives. Carried them for months. Hatched them. Feeds them from her own substance. Her strength, her sacrifice, her transformation. Everything about her is magnificent.”
The words make my throat tight. “I don't feel magnificent. I feel exhausted and overwhelmed and like I'm failing half the time.”
“Female fought off six hunters while this one was unconscious. Defeated rivals who should have easily overcome her. Protected territory and offspring with nothing but determination and coral spears.” He pulls me against his chest, and I feel his heart beating strong and steady. “Exhaustion and doubt do not erase magnificence. They prove it.”
I rest my forehead against his shoulder, letting his words sink in. Three months of constant transformation, constant demands, constant change. I haven't had time to think about us as anything but parents, partners in survival.
But we're still mates. Still bonded. Still the same beings who couldn't stop touching each other for the first two weeks.
“I missed you,” I admit quietly. “Not just your help with the babies. You. This.”
“This one has been here.”
“As a father, yes. But not as...” I pull back to look at him. “Not as my mate. We haven't had a moment alone since the hatching. Haven't just been us.”
His tentacles move in the water, creating gentle currents around us. “Female is correct. This one has been focused on children, on protection, on practical needs. But desire never left.” His hand slides down my back, pulling me closer. “Every time female nursed them, this one remembered how those breasts felt against these hands. Every time female swam past,this one tasted her scent in the water and wanted to chase her down, claim her against the nearest coral.”
Heat floods through me at his words. “Why didn't you?”
“Female was healing. Was exhausted. Was focused on offspring.” His mouth finds my neck, kissing just above my gills. “This one would not demand when female had nothing left to give.”
“And now?”
“Now the children sleep. Female has energy for the first time in weeks. And this one's control is failing.” His teeth graze my skin, making me gasp. “Female should tell this one if she wants to rest instead. Before control fails completely.”
I thread my fingers through the tentacles at the base of his skull, pulling his head up so I can kiss him properly. His mouth opens under mine immediately, tongue forking to taste me. The kiss is desperate, hungry, weeks of denied contact exploding between us.
