Dark Side Of The Moon (BBW Paranormal Were-Bear Shifter Sci-Fi Romance) (17 page)

He
pushed her against the wall, her head hitting the stones. The impact broke the
kiss, and she stared at Taso, breathing hard. His breath tore from his throat,
and she could see wild passion in eyes. For a moment, they glared at each
other.

Then
she reached for his armor, pulling his torn shirt over his head. He grabbed at
her, pulling and tearing her clothes, until she was naked. Then he had her
against the wall again, lifting her, fingers digging into the back of her
thighs, pushing himself into her. Stones scraped against her back, but she met
him fully, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.

It
was hard and brutal and over in a matter of minutes. When they were finished,
she let her legs relax, and he held her until her feet had touched the ground.
For a moment, she’d been loose-limbed, but then she’d gained her strength. He’d
looked down at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. She’d slipped out
of his arms then, and ran.

 

* * *

 

“Now,
you have to listen.”

“Yes,
I suppose I must.”

She’d
left him in the tunnel, running on instinct to his rooms, locking herself in
the bath. There she’d run the water, grabbing one of the colored vials, pouring
it in. She’d sunk into the blue-green scented water, letting her anger and dirt
and blood wash away.

She’d
refused to let him hold her when she’d come out, to find him already in his
bed. She was full of pent up energy, maybe anger. Certainly frustration. Now he
looked up at her from the bed, eyes half closed, hands behind his head, as if
he was indulging her in some whim. “This is serious. This is how I feel.
Before...this...” She waved her hand over the tumble of linen that sounded
their bodies. “Before you ambushed me.” The aftermath of that ambush was still
rocking through her body.

Taso
nodded, then sat up, the indolent expression fading. “I know this is serious.
It is for me too. But seeing you...after watching you...” He shrugged. “I could
not help myself. And neither could you.”

“Well...”
It was hard not to admit he was right. “I don’t think we’ll ever have anything
less than amazing chemistry between the sheets.”

It
was clear that went over his head, but she went on. “You can’t use sex to
change the subject. To try to keep me from talking.”

A
smile played around his mouth, but it never quite reached his eyes. “What you
had to say isn’t something I want to hear. I do not enjoy fighting with you
like that. It hurts my heart. I think it hurts yours as well.”

“It
does. But being shut out hurts just as much.” She realized she was crouching on
the bed, as if she was going to attack him. She let herself relax back,
uncoiled her legs, made the conscious effort to unclench her fists. Part of her
wanted to slap him, push him down, shake him until he listened to her, but she
was pretty sure that would only lead to more sex. For a minute, the image rose
up, the two of them, arms and legs locked in sweaty combat, resulting in
another body wracking orgasm. And putting off what she wanted to say.

“Then
speak plainly.”

She
sat back, the dim space between them filled with tension that wasn’t entirely
sexual.

“You
can’t make me stay behind. You can’t tell me what to do.”

His
brows had drawn together at her first words. She took a breath, started over
again.

“You
said you were drawn to me because of my strength, my power. That I could come
here and fight for you, for your dreams. And I’ve done that.”

His
brow smoothed out slowly. “You have done that. And very well.”

“But
now you’re telling me I can’t, because according to you, I can conceive.”

“This
is true.” He sat forward, pulling his legs up, resting his elbows on his knees.
“On both points. You cannot, and you can.”

“Being
able to have a baby doesn’t mean I can’t fight. Last week I fought and you
didn’t say anything.”

“It
is irrelevant what happened in the past. I am talking about now. This day. This
moment.” His eyes had gone dark with passion, or anger.

This
was only going to go in circles. She could see that. “Taso. If you make me stay
here, leave me behind, I’m going to be miserable. Unhappy. I’ll feel useless
and grow to hate you.” She winced at her words. They were harsh, but she wasn’t
sure how else to reach him. Logic didn’t seem to be working. Maybe hitting him
in his emotions would work.

He
sat forward suddenly grabbing her arms. The momentum carried her back, Taso
coming with her, until she was on her back, his face only inches from hers.

“I
love you like no other. You are my breath, and my heartbeat and the blood in my
veins. To tell you that you cannot fight was not a decision I made lightly. To
see you out there stirs things inside me that I never thought I would feel
again.”

His
fingers dug painfully into her skin, but all she could do was look up at him,
hardly daring to breath.

“It
is not that you are weaker than you were, or unable to fight while carrying my
child. But to lose both of you would be more than I could take. I do not want
to see your body on a stretcher, being carried into the courtyard with the rest
of the dead. And know what I’d lost...the two of you.”

Two
of you?
It was like her
mind had stopped working after that, and it took her a minute to let the rest
of his words catch up. Then it hit her, a body punch, just like the realization
that she loved him. It knocked the air right out of her. It took her a minute
before she found her voice.

“I’m
pregnant?”

Some
of the darkness left his face, the hard edges softening in the dim light. “You
are. You have been for several days.” A frown creased his forehead. “From the
time before I began locking you in during battles. You have not let me touch
you since.”

“How
do you know?”

“I
just know. We always know.”

She
stared up at him, trying to get a breath and get her mind to grasp what he’d
said. He seemed larger than life. Pain brought her back to reality.

“Taso,
you’re hurting me.”

He
nodded, as if that were his intent, but he loosened his grip on her arms. He
didn’t move away, just rested his hands on the bed beside her shoulders.

“We
know...from feel, from scent.” He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “You smell
like wild honey and wine and spices. And now...” He looked down at her, eyes
shining. “Now there is a different scent, new and fresh, like the first rain in
spring, the first grass that pushes through the ground. New life.”

He
moved one hand to her stomach, sliding lower, resting there. His hand was warm,
almost hot, and for a moment she could feel what he felt; life, growing inside
her. 

Anger
and frustration melted away in a swirl of confusion. “For real?”

“For
real.”

“Since
when?”

“Just
two moons.”

Six
weeks, not much more.
“Oh...” She looked up, searching his face. “When were you going to tell me?”

He
lifted one brow, his eyes taking on a bemused look. “Do women on your planet
not know?”

“No.
Not always. Not at first, at least.”

Taso
shook his head. “It is that unnatural condition you put yourself in. It keeps
you out of touch with what is important.”

There
was no argument she could give him for that. She tried a smile, even though her
face felt numb.

“Does
it please you, knowing this?” There was a hint of uncertainly in his eyes, in
his voice.

“It
does.” She blinked, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “It does. But I think
it scares me too.”

His
laugh startled her. It was soft, a whisper against her skin.

“I
understand.” He leaned down, kissing her hard. “But I am here. I have fought
for you, and with you, for your heart, and for this life with you…inside of you.
And now, I will be here for this. Be scared, if you need to be. Just know that
you are not alone. That you will never be alone again.”

He
held her then, and for the first time, she knew in her heart, there was no
uncertainty. She was in the right place, with the right man. For the right
reasons.

 

 

 

* * *

 

The
baby was born nine months later, almost to the day from the time Taso had told
her she was pregnant. With no discernable seasons in this world, she could not
say if the baby was born in spring or summer or winter. She knew what season it
was on Earth, but here, the sky was almost always cloudy, the trees in the
distance deep green, and the land between the two, brown dirt and silvery green
with low plants.

She
had not fought in those months, although she’d watched from the walls each
time. It seemed bad luck not to watch Taso, watch how he fought for what he
believed in. It felt like she was betraying him, if she wasn’t there in spirit,
at least.

The
wolves had continued to attack, but the tiger Clans had begun to join them, as
the wolves had begun to travel to other provinces. She’d been adamant that Taso
not travel after he’d gone once. She’d been unable to sleep, and when she had,
her sleep had been full of terrible dreams. When he’d come back, shouting his
victory from the walls, she’d told him the first lie since she’d met him. She’d
told him it was bad for the baby, if he were away. It wasn’t strictly a lie,
because she couldn’t see how tossing and turning every night he was away, could
do the baby any good.

To
her surprise, he’d agreed without a fight. He still saw his Clan off to battle,
but from the walls, or the barracks, or the gate. And then he’d return to her,
and make long slow love to her. He’d asked her once if that was bad for the
baby, and she’d laughed. It could do only good, she’d said, to have the baby
feel the love of its parents.

“It’s
a boy.”

Taso
held the newborn in his hands, held it as if it were the most precious thing
he’d ever seen. There were women in the room, midwives, willing to help with
delivery. Taso hadn’t let them near her, insisting on holding her hand, wiping
the sweat from her brow, screaming with her when the pain came, hard and
grinding. There were times when he shouted louder than she did, and she
remembered glimpses of the women, standing in the corners of the room, looking
on in something like awed shock.

“Give
him to me.”

He
wrapped the baby in a blanket, wiping its face with a wet cloth. “He’s hungry.
He sounds hungry.”

“Probably.
But...” She pushed herself up, and one of the midwives moved in, stacking
pillows behind Veronica’s head and shoulders. “You can’t feed him. So can I
have my baby now?”

He
handed over the baby, reluctantly she thought. There was no hesitation in Veronica;
she pulled down the shoulder of her gown, held the baby, felt him latch on. And
then suck like a bull calf.

“Oh
my God, ouch!” She stared at Taso, then smiled. “He’s a lot like his father.”

Taso
smiled, a purely male smile of a man who has just seen his son born, who has
just helped bring him into the world. And who could not keep his hands off the
baby. He reached out, pulling back the edge of the blanket, watching the baby
nurse. He touched the baby’s head, his shoulder, reached out to the little
hand. The tiny fingers groped, then wrapped around Taso’s big finger.

Taso
looked up, met her eyes. She lay back, reached out, and took Taso’s other hand.

“What
are we going to name him?”

“We
have time. There’s a ritual for that...” But he wasn’t listening to her. All
his focus was on the baby, watching as his son let go of Veronica, closed his
eyes, and fell asleep. Before she could say anything else, Taso stretched out
beside her. Veronica settled back against the pillows. The women, with nothing
left to do, filed silently out of the room. The three of them were left alone.

“You
must sleep.” He pulled a blanket up over himself and her, careful of the baby,
not covering his face. “And I am tired.” With a massive yawn, he set one hand
on her arm, his fingers reaching over the edge of the blanket, touching his
son’s hand.

“Giving
birth is hard work.”

Before
she had a chance to either agree or remind him who had done all the work, he
was asleep. She lay still for a moment, looking down on the thick dark hair of
her husband, and the head of her son, covered with a few curls with that same
black hair. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. She was home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Catherine Vale

 

Catherine Vale, a Canadian romance
author, has been writing fiction for as long as she can remember, but it wasn't
until she wrote her very first paranormal romance story that she found herself
hooked on the wild side of powerful shifters and dominant alpha men (of the
furry kind!).  

Catherine writes sci-fi, and paranormal
romance for readers who are willing to take a walk on the wild side of love.
Her stories always include powerful alpha males, curvy gals, and a
happily-ever-after. Girls with curves and guys with growl. What more could you
want?

 

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