“You’re almost there, Paz,” Jaeyoung said, confident and calm. “Keep pushing.”
“You can do it,” Kur’tok encouraged through ragged breaths.
I have to get this baby out of me before Kur’tok passes out from birthing pains,I thought.
With one last push full of determination, I gave it my all.
The tube shivered, then felt empty.
I panted for a few seconds, wiping sweat off my forehead. “Is it over?”
Jaeyoung’s expression was warm and nurturing. He only looked like that when he interacted with kids. He leaned down and did something I couldn’t see—thanks, huge stomach—then sat up with a bundle in his arms.
“Ready to meet your newborn?” he asked.
My heart skipped a beat. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my chest felt full. I took the bundled-up Maeleon baby with shaky arms, pressing them to my chest. How could a baby be so small, yet also bigger than I expected?
“Kur’tok,” I whispered, barely able to talk. “Look.”
He hovered over my shoulder, staring fondly at our child. He was speechless with awe.
Our baby was beautiful, obviously—their scales were deep red-pink, like petunia petals. Tiny nubs on their forehead indicated where horns would grow later.
I heard sniffling. Then a choked sob.
I blinked in surprise, glancing up at Kur’tok. “Are you crying?”
He grunted and wiped his face aggressively. “Yeah. So what?”
I smiled. “Nothing. It’s sweet that you’re emotional.”
He flashed a wide smile back at me. I could tell he was too overjoyed to be cranky.
Kur’tok extended a finger towards our infant, gently tickling the front of their swaddled chest. Their eyes blinked open to reveal pools of shining dark brown—just like mine.
Kur’tok gasped softly, stunned into silence for a few beats. “Our child’s eyes are as beautiful as yours, Paz,” he murmured.
Affection swelled in my chest like a rising sun. I leaned up to kiss him.
Just when I thought it wasn’t possible for our bond to deepen further, I realized I loved my big, buff alien mate even more.
20 /Epilogue: Kur’tok
“Here,Ku’rtok, you gotta plant them a little further apart. Let me show you,” Paz offered.
I grunted and watched while his tiny human fingers dug tiny holes in the dirt. Then he took the little seed pinched between his digits and burrowed it into the hole. I watched with a pout. It wasn’tmyfault my fingers were so big and clunky.
“Like that,” Paz said brightly. To the small pink Maeleon in his lap, he asked, “Do you want to try covering the seed, Chey’ish?”
Despite the fact that I was awful at planting, I couldn’t help but beam a huge smile when my child stepped up to the task. His deep pink hands reached out, following Paz’s instructions, and—with a little help from his human father—moved the dirt onto the seed.
Even before our baby was born, I knew I wanted to name him after Paz. My filum changed my life forever, and I wanted to honor him in every way possible. But the meaning of Paz’s name where he came from, “peace”, had no direct translation on Eukaria. Instead, we named our child after the Maeleon phrase for resolving a short conflict. “Kissing and making up,” as Paz put it. As for the pronouns, we chose the same ones we bothused, at least for the time being. If Chey’ish wanted to change them later, that was fine by us.
“Great job, little guy,” Paz praised, patting our child’s head. He squeaked with happiness as his feelers flashed with bursts of sunny yellow.
“Okay, enough tasks for small-handed people,” I grumbled. “Now, let’s move on to somethingI’mgood at.”
Paz chuckled as he stood up, scooping Chey’ish into his arms. “Lead the way, O Big-handed One.”
