Chapter Six
Mercy
This was real life. Not a movie or a show, but real and really happening to her. She was in labor. She was about to be a mom.
Muscles deep in her pelvis cramped, twisted and the pain radiated out to her lower back, seizing the muscles up tight. As the contraction eased, the pain dissipated the way it arrived. The pain distracted her and kept her from panicking. From the moment Braith darted down the corridors of the Judgment and into medical, Kleve and Jolyon tried to reach Paax over the comm. He wasn’t answering their calls.
Why wasn’t he answering their calls?
Braith placed her on a bed just as a contraction hit. Mercy squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the worst. The muscles in her pelvis cramped, not much worse than her regular menstrual cramp.
That was it? She looked over, caught her mother’s concerned eyes, was about to say she didn’t know what the big deal was, when her insides twisted.
The pain was blinding. Everything on the inside tried to punch itself way out of her. Mercy shouted and reached for Braith. He jerked back but she caught him by the horn, and squeezed. Squeezed so hard, until the tension inside her eased.
Braith staggered to his knees. “Warlord’s female, please—”
While distracted, Kalen jabbed her with a needle. She barely noticed. “For pain,” he said tersely.
Mercy released Braith. “Where is Paax?” Her voice was thin, already tired. This kid better come quick. She didn’t know if she could endure hours of labor.
As if sensing her thoughts, Dorothy took her hand. “You’re going to be fine, baby. You came flying out of me.”
Mercy shuddered. Not helping. “Where is Paax?”
Braith, Kleve and Jolyon shared a look. “We’re unable to reach him on comms,” Jolyon said, slowly.
They were keeping something from her. Again. She was so sick of that behavior. What could be so bad that they couldn’t tell her? Was Paax off fighting Suhlik somewhere? Was the ship under attack? Or were they trying to spare her precious little woman feelings because she was a delicate little flower and they didn’t want her to worry.
She was sick of it. All of it.
Mercy waved Jolyon closer to the bed, plastering on her sweetest smile. The drugs were starting to work their way through her system so it wasn’t hard to fake. His eyes went wide but he cautiously approached.
Her fist popped out and landed solidly at the base of his throat. Jolyon stumbled backward. Kleve and Dorothy held her by the shoulders, pinning her down. “You go find my husband and drag him back here! I don’t know what you think you’re not telling me, but you find Paax and find him now!”
Jolyon rubbed his throat and nodded, eyes wide with shock.
“Why are you just standing there? Go!” It took all her will not to leap out of the bed and thrash him. She wasn’t a violent person, normally, but today she was willing to make an exception.
“If you’re not related to the mother or my direct staff, get out of my surgery!” Kalen stormed in, all sound and fury.
“We have orders—”
Kalen cut off Braith. “I don’t care. Get out. You can follow orders out of the room.”
Braith huffed but didn’t argue, instead turning to leave the crowded room. Kleve followed without complaint.
“Not as effective as your methods,” he said, “but it’ll suffice. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” she said. “Whatever you gave me seems to be working.” She didn’t hurt and felt almost disconnected from her body, as if floating on a tether.
The contraction came over her in a wave, the tether pulling taut and forcing her back down into her body. Gritting her teeth, Mercy clamped down on her mother’s hand until the pain passed. Eventually only a dull, burning sensation remained in her lower back and pressure on her pelvis. And bladder.
“I need to pee,” she said in a whisper to her mother.
“Don’t worry about that now.”
She didn’t know when else she was supposed to worry about it.
The nurse appeared with a cup of water and pressed it to her lips. “Drink. You need the fluid. The pressure on your bladder is from the baby. It’s not real.”
“Feels real.”
“Well, if you make a mess, I won’t tell,” she said with a wink.
“I don’t care about a mess. I want my husband. Where is he?” Mercy turned to her mother, clutching her hand tightly.
“The men are looking for him now.”
Meaning no one knew. The warlord was missing and his son’s birth wasn’t going to wait.
A machine beeped but it was almost pleasant, drifting into the background noise of the medical bay. There were so many machines. Meridan opened up the robe and the fabric fell away. She cleaned Mercy’s exposed belly with a swab before sticking on a white pad.
“I’m cold,” Mercy said.
“We’ll get you covered in a minute,” Meridan said. “We just need to hook you up to the monitor.”
“Shouldn’t you be looking at my cervix or something?”
“Oh, we’re very interested in your cervix but we want to monitor your blood pressure, too.” Meridan completed her task efficiently and covered Mercy in a light sheet, as promised.
More machines beeped. This time the noise was far from reassuring.
“Their heart rates are dropping,” Kalen said. He placed a scanner directly on Mercy’s stomach. He frowned.
“What’s going on?” she asked. She tried to sit up to look at the screen but Kalen moved it away.
“The babies are in distress,” he said. He turned to another medic, a male Mercy recognized but did not know the name of. “Prep for surgery.”
“Babies? Surgery?”
Kalen patted her hand and gave her what he probably thought was a reassuring smile. It was all fangs and horrifying. “We need to get your sons out now. It seems they are too impatient to wait for your body to give birth the old-fashioned way.”
Sons.
Plural.
Stunned, Mercy tried to formulate her questions. She looked to her mother, surprise also on her face.
Mercy didn’t notice Kalen approaching with a mask until it was already over her mouth and nose. She swatted ineffectively at the air before slipping under into blackness.
Paax
Paax gripped the severed head by the hair and tossed it the nearest warrior. “Send this to his brother.”
There would be repercussions. The Council would twist their hands and scold him but they were too frightened of the fury of a Mahdfel for Paax to consider them a serious threat. The council on Sangrin knew very well that it could not control the Mahdfel who pledged to protect the planet. At best, they directed the warlords’ energies toward the Suhlik threat but they could not forbid two warlords determined to destroy one another. They could, however, take away the council seat they dangled in front of him for so long.
It did not matter. His decisions to pursue the Suhlik research facility ensured the council would not welcome him as an elder council member anytime soon.
Antomas was another issue. The minor warlord would demand his revenge and there was nothing a council of soft Sangrin elders could do to stop it.
Paax needed to be prepared.
Jolyon approached him. The warrior was young and nervous but skilled and loyal, which is why Paax selected the male to guard his mate. “Warlord, sir—”
Paax swiped a cleansing cloth over his face, removing the dirt and gore. “Why are you not with my mate?”
“She sent me to fetch you—”
“Fetch me?”
The young warrior paled. Paax meant his words to be teasing but the male took them far too seriously. Jolyon's mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Mercy claimed the warrior was “funny” and “chatty.” Paax saw no evidence to support her claim.
“Speak,” Paax commanded.
“Your mate is in medical. She is laboring.”
Labor.
His sons were being born.
He was a father.
“Is she well? And our sons?” Paax ran the cloth over his bare chest and arms, removing the worst of the blood. There was no time to don clothes.
“Yes, but she is calling for you. Demanding.” Jolyon rubbed at his throat.
How could he ignore the demands of his wife?
He strode into medical, finding his worst nightmare. Braith and Kleve stood outside, removed by the head medic.
“Situation report,” he snapped.
“Sir, we’re unsure—”
Unsure? His mate’s life and the lives of their twin sons required only certainty.
Paax dismissed them as useless and tried to enter the room. Mylomon’s female barred him entry. “You have to wait out here,” she said.
“I will see my mate. Now.”
Daisy folded her arms over her chest. “No. They’re in the middle of surgery. You can’t just barge in there.”
“You cannot stop me, female. Move. I do not wish to injure you.”
“No!” Daisy stuck a hand out, landing her palm flat against stab wound on his shoulder.
He stared down at her hand and then at her, surprised that she would dare to touch him. “What is the meaning of this?”
“The babies heart rates dropped. They went into distress. It happens,” she said. “Right now Kalen is performing an emergency c-section. She’s in good hands.”
Paax took a calming breath. “Explain this sea section.”
“It’s actually really common on Earth. Lots of women have the procedure and make full recoveries.” She explained the procedure in detail.
“That’s barbaric!” They cut open the womb and acted like it was normal. The medic had gutted his mate like a fish. “I must see her.”
“Yeah, well you can’t. You aren’t exactly sterilized.” She waved at his gore covered physique. “Is any of that your blood or is that a fashion statement?”
“Some.”
“Let’s sew you up, then.”
More barbaric human medicine; sewing torn flesh with needle and thread like fabric. “No. I’ll heal.”
“I got news for you, Paax. If Mercy sees you looking like this, she’s going to freak. Can you at least rinse off? You can use medical’s cleansing room.” Daisy pointed to the small room the medics used to sterilize themselves.
He glanced down at his hands, no longer his normal warm plum color but a dark, stained wine. If his mate saw him in such a state she would, indeed, freak. He did not want to greet the mother of his children with the blood of a lesser warrior on him. He would not hold his sons for the first time and blemish them in such a manner. “Agreed.”
He quickly rinsed off and changed into a set of too-small scrubs. He sat quietly and suffered much insult to his dignity as Mylomon’s female fused over his injuries. They would heal. Accelerated healing had been engineered into the Mahdfel genetic code. It would take much to seriously harm him and certainly much more than the wound Antu had inflicted.
He would heal. Mercy might not.
Kalen entered. He was not dressed in his normal crisp white lab coat but he wasn’t covered in blood, either.
“Report,” Paax said.
“You’re mate is out of surgery, sir.”
“And?” Paax ground his teeth, frustrated at both the female needlessly dressing his wounds and that no one would speak plainly and tell him what he burned to know. “Enough of this,” he said, pulling his arm away from the nurse.
“You’ll have a scar.”
“Then I have a scar. Medic, speak now before I lose what precious control I have.”
“Your mate is out of surgery.”
“Has stress addled your brains?”
“And your sons are well.”
“Both? Survived?” Twins. Such a rarity.
“They will be strong warriors.”
Paax surged to his feet. “I must see them.”
Kalen nodded. “I will allow you to view her only. Your mate is not to be disturbed.”
The medics had placed a sleeping Mercy in an enclosed room. The transparent walls tinged green allowed Paax to monitor her status. He paced, eyes always on her, flicking briefly to a screen and then back to her. Her dark hair was wet and plastered against her forehead. His little star seemed so small in the bed designed for a Mahdfel, swallowed up by the blankets and pillows.
How often had Paax stood in a very similar spot, helpless as he watched his mother recover from surgery? Too often. His mother was forever pregnant and they never went smoothly. Paax had been young but he remembered clearly his father pacing and snarling, threatening the medics, and demanding to hold his mate. Every child she carried left her a little bit more wore, a little bit more tired. So many brothers lost. After all those attempts, only Paax and Omas survived to adulthood.
Paax could still hear his mother’s cries. Every child she lost broke her heart. Every single one.
And his heart hardened. Paax never wanted a mate. He never wanted to put a female through such pain and decided it was better to be alone. This was before the genetic compatibility test. His father, a good male and a strong warrior, selected his mother based on scent. She smelled good. Alluring.
Paax pressed his hand to the glass, willing himself closer. No matter how good or alluring his mother smelled, she was not a strong match to his father. They lost many children and, ultimately, her life.
His mother’s struggle was exactly the reason Paax developed the genetic compatibility test. He wanted to spare all females the dangers of a risky pregnancy.
Mercy was a strong match, very compatible, and she held his heart, but she still required surgery. His best efforts to spare another female suffering, failed.
“She is strong,” Kalen said.
“She suffered.”
“Only because you were not here.”
Paax narrowed his eyes at the medic. Sometimes he forgot how young and hot headed the male was. “You very well know where I was and what I had to do.” For her. For their sons. Their safety was paramount.
Meridan and Daisy appeared, each carrying a swaddled bundle.
His heart pounded and blood thundered in his ears as Meridan placed his son in the cradle of his arms.
Words alone were not enough to express the joy surging through his body.
Impossibly small, his son fit in one hand. Paax’s index finger ran over the infant’s brow, feeling for a bump or ridge but finding only soft skin under dark, downy hair. His complexion was a vivid pink. Mercy would have the perfect name for it, flamingo or watermelon or some other Terran word, but Paax was satisfied with pink. The twins’ complexions would darken in a few days. Even if they did not, they were perfect.
The infant grabbed Paax’s finger, his tiny pink hand clamping around his plum digit, and pulled it toward his mouth with surprising force.
There was nothing Paax would not do to ensure the safety of his son. No task was too onerous. No burden too great to bear. His little star had given him the greatest gift, twice.
“Ready for the other one, papa?” Daisy asked, placing the infant in the crook of Paax’s empty arm. “What will you call them?”
Axil and Drake.
He knew their names in his heart but would wait for Mercy to wake. “It is the mother’s honor to name a son.”
“They look more Terran than I expected,” Kalen said.
“Are Terrans this color at birth?”
Meridan cleared her throat. “Depends. Babies are normally a dark red or purple until they start to breath.”
Paax looked at Kalen with alarm. “My sons are breathing, yes?”
“Relax,” she continued. “I just meant that the skin tone normally changes. Totally normal for a human.”
“But my sons are Mahdfel.” His sons. His reality forever changed by two such small beings. The sensation of his heart expanding and strengthening all at once was so strange. “When will my mate awaken?”
“Her vitals are stable,” Kalen said. “She should wake within an hour.”
“Will she be in pain?”
Kalen shared a look with Meridan. “Not excessively.”
“Unacceptable.”
The son in the crook of his left arm cried out. Paax frowned. Was his voice too loud? Did he grip the infant too tightly? What was that foul odor? Had he hurt his son and already failed as a parent.
Meridan plucked the mewling baby away. “Time to change a diaper, I think.”
“Show me how this thing is done. I will conquer it.” The trials of fatherhood were strenuous but he would prevail.