The Last Omega in the Galaxy (Scales and Tails of Fate #1)

Chapter Eighteen

Noel

The space scorpion’s sting had burned, but I knew my body well enough to know it was sensation alone. Broken bones would heal. Bruises would ebb, but whatever the pain that flowed through me was could go fuck itself, sincerely.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed Vil’s arm. I had to arch my back to compensate as muscles wrapping all the way around into my back squeezed my insides like toothpaste, putting pressure into my hips, against my ventral slit, that seemed to make my hips want to split and yawn with foreign pressure.

“Well, things are going smoothly.” Doc braced my lifted knee and shifted the position of it, resting it in his arm comfortably as I bore down against the strange sensation. His words of confidence made the terrifying prospects to come more bearable.

Doc’s eyes widened for a moment, mouth hanging agape as something akin to a tearing sensation opened me from channel to channel. The strange part? It was near painless, like sticker halves peeled apart. And at the end, a thick gush of viscous fluid splashed my thighs and crease.

“What happened?” Vil shifted behind me, his song full of chaos and fear that echoed between us until I reached back, claws drawn to draw his head over my shoulder, pinning him there with a hiss.

“Nothing that’s not supposed to happen. It’s just surprising looking, is all.” Doc waved Vil off, and I surrendered to my first instinct to push.

“My channel split. We talked about it.” I swallowed, drool pooling in my mouth, my own venom concentrating and readying itself in threat as happened when I was in pain. But I’d felt worse, much worse. The bitter secretion acted somewhat like an analgesic to me.

“Does it hurt?” Vil wrapped a hand around my hip and cradled my belly. That anxious note to our song rang with a near weep of constant fear.

“Doesn’t feel great,” I said. Tearing words free of my shivering lungs proved to be difficult, but the pressure against my pelvis waned, my belly softening slightly.

“Remember to breathe and relax as much as possible.” The sudden spike of irritation that rang out between Vil and me in unison nearly had me lashing out to scratch his face. Though that bond we shared kept me from doing it.

“I’ll relax once I birth our egg!” I gripped the sheets and Doc grunted with force, keeping my leg held aloft as the pressure built within me once more. So, knowing Doc was too weak to hold me, I took the brunt of my frustration out on Vil, wrapping my tail tighter in an inching coil he tolerated so wonderfully. No pain echoed through our bond, and that pleased me greatly to know I didn’t cause him pain. In fact, he squeezed back, providing me with welcome pressure. Instead of any encouraging words, he merely nuzzled my shoulder and the back of my neck, lips parted as warm, damp breath tickled the scales there, making my hair curl against the tender flesh.

When the contraction returned, the muscles in my belly engaging in an inching peristaltic pulse, Vil’s breath trembled in a low hiss. Only a brush of fang made me shiver, making my scales ripple. As the pressure mounted higher and tighter, my entire body shook and I pushed hard. Things stretched and the burning sensation pulsed and rocked down. I pushed gently, not wanting to crush the egg despite reassurance from Doc that I wouldn’t. The horrible thought wouldn’t leave my mind, and I relented my push. For only a moment, I doubted myself, but Vil seemed to sense my hesitation.

Immediately after the flash of unease and fear, Vil bit down on my neck, his fangs sinking into my flesh where he’d bitten me the first time, marking me as his mate. Without hesitation, I pushed boldly, bracing against both Vil and Doc.

Nothing had stretched me as wide before; no surgery had left me as open and vulnerable. But I’d never been attached to anyone or anything like I’d been attached to Vil so quickly. I’d never felt so free as I did, as I would.

As if understanding my thoughts, Vil relented his bite and brushed his lips over my ear, teeth tracing. “There are no soldiers to hold you down. There are no edicts to follow, no Naleucian alphas or betas to compare you to nonexistent standards. You are my mate, and you will reflect me. When you smile, they will know I treat you well. When you wear riches, they’ll know I provide. And when they see our progeny, they’ll know how powerful we really are.”

The sting of his bite pulsed at my neck as I retched free a harsh scream and bore down, stretching my insides well into my outsides as everything came rushing out in a flood.

Doc pulled back, hands raised but not threatening. My brain registered only an intruder, and I scrambled between my legs, releasing Vil even as I leaked and burned.

An oblong egg, slick from birth, cradled warmly in my arms. A tiny pulse of song, linked inexorably to me, made me hold it tight, guarding it from all others. Vil circled me and brushed my lips for a kiss. He placed a hand ever so gently on the still-soft shell, brushing the surface of pale blue with awe. His kiss dropped my guard in an instant.

“It’s blue, like your hair.” Vil’s shocked whisper made me smile as I nestled around it, relishing the way he clung to me.

“It’s the pigment they produce. It’s usually the case for omegas, I’m told,” Doc said. The longing in his eyes made me look away, as a territorial part of my brain registered his jealousy as a threat.

So long ago, I remembered Nirem telling me about omegas birthing clutches and eggs, and how it was bad for them, but I couldn’t see the downside. Sure, it hurt a little, but so many things often did. Perhaps it was because bearing an egg outside of a mating bond could go horribly. Perhaps overpopulation? They were eternal. But I’d never know.

“Noel? What would you tolerate as far as my intervention? You need to be cleaned up. I’d like to check you for tears or injuries that won’t heal right. Also, this is a prime time to do some studying on you for the future. For your progeny.” His coaxing voice drew me out of my possessive stupor. “The more we know, the less we have to guess about little Doc Jr. here.”

“No.” Vil flat refused the moniker, and I laughed, breaking the taxing mental image I suffered through.

“Nexus,” I said, interrupting the nonverbal tiff happening between the two males.

“Nexus?” Doc’s brow furrowed.

“N-3-5?” Vil puzzled over it for a moment.

“N-3, my progeny,” I said, tracing the shell with the pads of my fingers, silently praying that life would hatch free one day.

“And the X for five? From 5 th generation?” He half grinned. “Really fucking up their naming conventions now.”

“Technically, he’d be N03-2.” Doc scooted closer to the bed once more, sensing how disarmed I was. “But that bothers me. What did N01 and N02 call you?”

“Hatchling.” I half smiled, lost in thought with my egg. “Little one. They really felt it wasn’t their place to give me a name.”

Vil nuzzled the back of my neck and tucked me into him tighter, our bond telling me he’d never let me suffer again. But he would. The blip of fear for what was to come in mere hours made my insides clench. I’d made promises I shouldn’t, but it was for the best. It wouldn’t kill me.

So, when Doc put on a pair of gloves and tapped my foot gently, reminding me of the IV in place, I surrendered to him and allowed a rather invasive inspection to progress. Even Vil had the good sense to glance away and temper his anger.

And as violating as it was, it passed away in a few minutes as Doc cleaned me up, drawing away deeply pink blood-soaked cloths. “Your septum is already healing closed. The bleeding is very minimal, and I will ask Vil to bring Junior to the office for a quick scan to make sure he’s healthy.”

When Vil reached to take the egg from me, I only panicked minimally. “Please…” I wasn’t sure what I was asking.

“Shh. You can follow me, or I can carry you while you hold him.” Vil stroked my hair, but I didn’t want to be moved. “I suggest getting a shower if you think you can stand that long?” I let him scoop the egg into a small blanket and followed him from the bed on trembling legs. The threat of a shower seemed fantastic, and in my heart, I trusted Vil.

“I’ll shower.” I stared into his dark, void eyes and our bond sang before we parted. Two sensations swam within my mind, telling me how much I was adored and a smaller second one that sang of life and desire to be warm.

Doc switched out the bedding quickly before he and Vil left, leaving me to cleanse away everything. The water glistened with my magenta blood then ran clear as things within me burned in that way they so often did. Every sign meant part of me had healed. The cravings for food would hit me soon, my body needing nutrients to replace what I’d spent on gestation, and soon to replace the organ to be harvested.

Quickly enough, I removed myself from the shower and shuffled back to bed, my brain abuzz with the distant pinch of sensation from my mate and egg, both of which appeared to be happy. I couldn’t have asked for more when they returned, Doc beaming next to a nervous, happy Vil. “He’s got a little pulse here.”

I forced a smile in return as he gently cradled our egg and passed it to me, letting instincts take hold. I tucked it into my chest and nestled in, eager to wish the world away for what was to come.