Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
"I need to roll over," I tell him, panting.
He pulls from my body immediately, and I want to protest at the sudden bereft feeling. I liked being filled up by him. But then he's helping me get comfortable on pillows and tucking the biggest ones against my side so my belly is supported. His fingers move over me, caressing, and Bodhrri looks me over with a mixture of pride and contentment. "Wait here. I'll get wet towels."
"I'll be here," I joke, because I don't think I could get up even if I wanted to. My bones are noodles in the best way.
Bodhrri dumps the carafe of water onto one of the cloth napkins he brought out and cleans me gently, then cleans himself off. He tosses it into the grass once he's done and then flops onto his back next to me in the nest of pillows, his fur sticking to my slightly sweaty skin. "That was amazing, just so you know."
"I'm pretty happy with how it turned out," I agree, lifting my hand towards his. He snags my fingers and twines his with mine, and my joy feels as if it's going to bubble over. I gaze up at the night sky, catching my breath, and notice the stars are out now. "Look up."
As I say it, a star shoots across the glittering sky, full of planets and rings and nebulas and all kinds of colors you wouldn't see back on Earth. We both exclaim at the same time, pointing.
"Make a wish," Bodhrri says.
That's an easy one. "I wish for all of our moments to be as good as this one."
"They will be," he says, all confidence.
I think he's right.
Epilogue
BODHRRI
When I thought about our children being born, I did not realize that all of them would wake up at the same time in the middle of the night, all demanding to be fed. This makes things tricky as my poor mate only has two breasts and we have four very small babies. It means that we both take two of them, and I bottle-feed the two less fussy ones while Payton holds the other two and feeds them.
It's been less than a week and I can already tell the personalities of our babies apart, just from the way they feed. Our oldest, Bram, is the biggest. He drinks the most and tackles his bottle with vigor, and as long as there is a nipple in his mouth, he does not fuss.
The next two are also boys, Marak and Aylex. Marak is active, watching everything as he feeds, and he squirms the entire time as if he does not want to waste a moment. Aylex is the fighter of my boys. He bites. Everything. Both of them refuse to take the bottle and scream like they are being murdered unless Payton holds them. She feeds them both when they rouse.
The tiniest one, our surprise baby, is our daughter. Her name is Estrella, which is a human word for "star." She is so delicate and dainty that sometimes it frightens me, yet she is sweet and easygoing as her mother.
Four children, incredibly enough. It is a mind-boggling amount, and yet I would not trade a single one of them for anything. I do not care about missing sleep, or the fact that I have worn the same clothing for the last three days. All I care about is that they are healthy, and they are here with us.
I hold one bottle while I pick up Bram, who is already finished. I cradle him against my shoulder, jiggling in the hopes of a burp and nothing more. Estrella is still nursing her bottle, so I hold it propped up and glance over at my mate. Payton sleeps upright in our bed, her mouth open slightly. She has a sleeping baby on each breast, their tiny fists curled against her skin, and the picture they make hurts my heart with how achingly perfect it is. I will let them sleep a while longer, I decide.
Bram kicks his legs against me, and I adjust my grip. It's not easy to burp one baby while feeding another, but I am getting the hang of things. He whimpers and I press a kiss to his soft, round head. He does not have my ears. Estrella does, and she also has the tiniest little claws. All three boys have my tail and their manes are the same bright orange that mine is. "Hush, my son," I whisper. "Let your mother rest and I will tell you a story."
As if he can understand me, Bram calms. Estrella finishes her bottle and I pick her up, carefully maneuvering until they are both upright against my chest, and I pray to all the gods in the universe that there is no spit up, because I forgot a towel. It is unimportant at the moment, I decide. My tunic already needs washing.