Raashh Decisions (Xxan War Book 3) Read online

  “What is Haa…?” Her cheeks heated. “Um…”

  Arren laid a kiss on the top of her head. “It means young mother. We consider motherhood sacred. There are few higher compliments for a woman than being a mother.”

  “I take it that means you intend to pamper me even more than you usually do?”

  His chuckle was low enough to send a shiver down her spine. “You have no idea.”

  Raashh appeared at her side. He put his arms out, and Arren settled Sandy in them. Before she could decide if she was uncomfortable being held by the huge elder or not, he’d tucked her under his chin and started a rumbling hum.

  The hum was soothing, and in moments, she felt as if she might be falling asleep. It wasn’t the abrupt sleep that pregnancy brought on, more a comfortable drifting.

  The humming seemed to come from everywhere at once. Finally, her overtaxed mind supplied the information that all the men and boys were humming along.

  Raashh shifted Sandy in his arms, and she settled her cheek against his chest. One hand smoothed its way down her abdomen.

  The elder’s rumbling forced her eyes open, but only for a moment. She was too tired to keep them that way.

  “What did he say?” she managed.

  Arren answered her. “He believes you may be carrying two daughters. There is no scent of male about you.”

  She nodded.

  The humming rumble continued. Raashh started moving. The humming went softer. After a moment, Sandy decided it was Daveed and his sons moving away.

  Raashh returned her to Arren’s arms, and he turned away from his seir. The slight splashing of water announced he was entering the pool. The water lapped at her body, warmth tickling up her feet and legs…then her backside.

  A heartbeat later, she was floating in Arren’s arms. Raashh’s hand feathered over her cheek. Discussion in Xxan passed between them.

  Arren didn’t remove her S’suuhhea. He didn’t bring her to her knees in the water. Raashh’s hands went to work, rubbing the clove oil into her neck and shoulders. Arren started at the front of her neck, then worked down her shoulders and chest.

  Their discussion went on. Raashh moved to her feet and massaged the oil from there to her knees, while Arren started rinsing the oil from her upper body. Once they were done, Arren lifted her and started walking again.

  Sandy licked her lips, trying to make sense of that. “Aren’t we supposed to…?” Her cheeks heated at what she was asking.

  Raashh smoothed a hand over her hair, rumbling Xxan she didn’t understand.

  Arren translated for him. “The pool will be here for you when you feel up to more. For now, sleep.”

  She tried to answer, but she was too tired to form words. Darkness closed around her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Three months later

  Sandy sighed as Arren lowered her into the bathing pool in the center nest. The water wasn’t the typical chlorinated water found in public pools. It was heavy in metals and a bit of salt. Though Arren was careful to wash her in a tub of fresh water after a long soak in the bathing pool, there was something soothing about floating in the salt water.

  She sighed. “I’m going to miss this.”

  Her mate’s brow furrowed a bit, and he rubbed lightly at the huge mound of her stomach. If Sandy didn’t know how far along she was intimately, she’d have guessed someone in her state was due any day. She hadn’t been able to see her feet for the last four weeks.

  Not that anyone let her stand independently anymore. She was carried everywhere by Arren or Raashh. Daveed was willing to carry her, but unless it was an emergency, it was considered inappropriate for Arren’s brother to take such liberties.

  As it was, living in Raashh’s nest had changed everything about how she and Arren lived. Living with so many people meant they couldn’t walk around the nest naked as they had at Arren’s apartment. The fact that Tim had to change out her IV in the middle of the night meant they couldn’t sleep naked. Her soaks or floats in the bathing pool in the center nest couldn’t even be accomplished naked. Arren had provided dozens of maternity S’suuhhea, and she went through at least a four every day, after they were soaked in the pool or had been slept in.

  “The bathing pool in the center nest?” he asked, dragging her back to the conversation she’d started.

  “Yes. I’ll miss it when we go to SLAL.” The readings from the scan plates had been so encouraging so far, Rayn had decided to give Sandy more time in Raashh’s nest, on the assumption that the nest would be less stressful on her than the space station would be, but there was little doubt he’d order the formal move to SLAL at her next weekly visit. “Two more days.”

  “There is a bathing pool in the nursery nest at SLAL. We will have sole use of it for the duration of our stay.”

  Sole use. Did that mean she could bathe without the S’suuhhea there? That would be an improvement.

  “But it won’t be the same.” If someone had asked her two months ago, Sandy wouldn’t have envisioned she’d become so attached to Raashh’s nest, but she had. To the nest and the family members in it. It seemed even Arren and his family were busy mending old wounds between them.

  “As close as we can make it,” he promised.

  The babies started pummeling her again, and Sandy smiled. She couldn’t help it. Their vigorous movements meant they were healthy. Considering the circumstances, movement was good.

  Arren touched her womb over one beating foot or hand, chuckling. “They are so strong.”

  She groaned in memory of them keeping her awake the night before. “I kn—”

  “Arren!” Tim’s voice was like a siren going off in a quiet park. He barreled across the still nest toward them and shouted Arren’s name again.

  Sandy swiveled her head, trying to get a better look at him. And it struck. The pain sliced through her, doubling her so that she took a faceful of water before Arren managed to scoop her into his arms.

  Sandy screamed at the second pain, then panted in an attempt to avoid being swamped by it. Arren turned toward the stairs leading out of the pool, whispering assurances that everything would be fine.

  Tim shouted out orders to someone unseen. “Get the shuttle ready. Now!” He launched into the pool in his clothing, readying a hypo for use.

  Sandy winced at the injection, then ground her teeth at another pain.

  Tim herded Arren out of the pool and toward the shuttle bay. The nest rushed past them at a rate that told Sandy the two men were running. The pains subsided, and she started taking deep breaths, reasoning her rattled nerves back a notch.

  “How did this start so suddenly?” Arren demanded.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen labor start this way. Let’s get her aboard the shuttle and worry about the how later. Hopefully the z’hhabe will give us enough time to reach the station.”

  “What is the usual effectiveness of it?”

  Tim shook his head. “It varies too much to guess. It can last as long as two hours.”

  “Can? Or…what?” Arren raced onto the shuttle, and settled Sandy on a plush mat Daveed was smoothing on the carpeted floor.

  Tim pulled down a kit he’d stored in the shuttle days earlier, every muscle tense.

  “Carew!” Arren barked at him.

  He hesitated in prepping a new IV. His expression told Sandy that this could end badly. “I’ve seen it wear off in fifteen minutes.”

  Arren gaped at him.

  Daveed’s hand closed on Arren’s shoulder. “We can have you to SLAL in less than that,” he vowed. “Go, Raashh!” He secured the shuttle doors from outside and thumped on the side of the shuttle to let his seir know they were ready to fly.

  The momentary lightheadedness told Sandy that Raashh had engaged the anti-grav systems on land, probably in an attempt to spare her the usual gravitational pull of take-off. She supposed they were in flight just afterward, but with no sense of movement to cue her in, she couldn’t be sure of that.

&n
bsp; Tim hung the new IV, and Sandy stared at it, her heart hammering. It wasn’t the yellowish color of nutrient base. The bag looked suspiciously like Xxanian-mix blood.

  As if he was reading her thoughts, Tim squeezed her hand. “Calm down, Sandy. It will strengthen the three of you for labor and delivery. Your blood chemistry has changed, due to both being mated and carrying Xxanian young. Arren’s blood won’t harm you.”

  “Blood?” She’d never heard of them giving blood before someone was bleeding.

  He injected something into the IV line, and heat raced up her arm instead of the usual chill of an IV. “We have to give you a shot of hormone. It will help mature the babies in the little time we have left.”

  To help them breathe. She nodded.

  “We’ve been using small amounts of it for the last few weeks, but we’d hoped to have another month.”

  “Can’t you stop labor?” Arren interrupted. “Human doctors can stop human labors.”

  “We can slow it down, if we reach the station before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for—”

  Sandy gasped at the feeling of something coursing down her thighs. She levered herself up, pushing past Arren’s gentle attempt at restraint. There was no mistaking the Kelly green staining the mat. “The amniot. My water has broken.”

  There was a moment of tense silence.

  “Too late?” Arren asked.

  Tim nodded. “We have to reach the station as soon as possible. These babies are going to be born today, like it or not.”

  Arren helped Sandy back down to the mat. She took calming breaths, praying to any god that would listen that her babies were mature enough to survive. She didn’t doubt that Arren’s killing rage at losing one or both would be more than either of them could bear.

  ****

  Arren was certain they would reach SLAL without further incident when the situation took a turn for the worse. Sandy hadn’t had any further contractions. The babies were moving lightly under his hand. He would have described the situation as stable. Until the moment Sandy screamed in pain.

  Tim stared at her in shock for a single heartbeat. He whipped around and scanned his gaze down the tracking plate, shaking his head, muttering under his breath.

  “What is it?” Arren demanded.

  “I wish I knew. It’s not contractions. It’s—” He turned to look at Arren, but his gaze snapped to Sandy, and his face lost all color.

  Arren followed his line of sight, his heart stuttering at the sight of Sandy gasping for breath. She grasped at his wrist, and Arren wrapped his hand around it, encouraging her to hold it if she needed to. Her grip surprised him.

  Tim moved abruptly to one side, coming back with the medical kit. He rummaged through it, his hands unsteady. Arren’s question of what was wrong ended when Tim shouted out orders to Raashh.

  “Whatever speed we’re at, double it. She’s bleeding.”

  Arren snapped a look Tim’s direction, focusing on the healing cloth he held pressed between her thighs. It wasn’t a little blood. The cloth was soaked, and he was preparing a second.

  In the background, he could hear his seir comming updates on Sandy’s condition and their flight path to SLAL.

  Fuck! Visions of losing his young and Sandy as well pushed him toward madness. “We’re nearly there,” he whispered. There was still time to save them.

  Sandy’s hand loosened against his, and Arren stroked her face, calling her name. There was no reply.

  “She’s doing fine,” Tim assured him.

  “Fine? This is fine?” he practically roared.

  “She’s stable,” he corrected himself.

  Arren didn’t reply to that.

  “Landing now,” Raashh announced.

  The engines wound down, and his seir rushed past them, working the exterior door with dexterity that surprised many humans.

  “Lift her on three,” Tim instructed. “Raashh, you’ll have to take the IV bags.”

  The door swung wide, and Raashh turned back to them with a grumble of agreement.

  “One. Two.”

  At “three,” Arren and Tim slid to their feet, Tim holding the medicated pad to the bleeding. They maneuvered her out of the shuttle together, Raashh extending one long arm fully to take the rear position down the too-narrow ramp.

  “Run.”

  Arren didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted for the emergency wing Rayn had pointed out to them on an earlier visit, Tim barely keeping up with his pace.

  Just when he was starting to wonder where Rayn’s people were, a swarm of them descended from every side. An emergency cart slipped into place between them, and Arren lowered Sandy onto it and slowed his pace to allow them to work while the move continued.

  One doctor slid a scan plate low on Sandy’s abdomen. Another tapped keys on a control board, pressing shoulder-to-shoulder with Tim to accomplish it. Readings were shouted out, most likely to comms in the walls Rayn was monitoring, as well as to the staff members directly preparing her for what would come next.

  “Op One,” Rayn’s voice barked over a speaker they were passing. His voice echoed from others further down the line.

  The staff members turned the gurney left at the next intersection, and Arren turned with it. No matter what Rayn said—conscious of his presence or not—Arren wasn’t leaving Sandy’s side.

  No one asked him to. The entire team trooped through a fine spray and into the operating room. Dripping the foul-smelling antimicrobial liquid should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Only Sandy mattered.

  Sandy and our young.

  Snips of conversation made it through the haze of his own desperation.

  “—started en route. I’ve slowed it but—”

  “How long has she been unconscious?”

  “Ten milliliters. STAT.”

  “—distress.”

  “We will not lose her, Rayn.” His seir warned.

  “Doing my best, Raashh. Now let us work, or I’ll have your hulking ass removed.”

  Arren shot a look at his seir, anticipating an explosion that didn’t materialize. His seir snorted his disgust and paced the far end of the room, well out of the way of the medical team working on Sandy.

  Fairly certain he wasn’t going to be tasked with talking—or taking—his seir down while Rayn’s team worked, Arren focused on his mate’s pale, still face. Machines flashed warnings, and medical personnel stripped away Sandy’s ruined S’suuhhea and covered her with sheets, top and bottom.

  All of it likely took heartbeats, but it felt like hours to Arren. It was the worst torture a Xxanian male could suffer, he decided. His mate and young were at risk, and there was nothing Arren could do to save them.

  “Arren? Arren!”

  He snapped his head around to stare at Rayn.

  “We need you to move.”

  His ridge plates rose in warning, and he bared his hunting teeth.

  “Sparks has to make the incision. Just to the opposite side, but move. Now.”

  Incision? He rushed to follow Rayn’s orders. If they were resorting to surgery, there wasn’t a moment to lose.

  There was no pretense at trying to hide the proceedings from him. Before Arren was situated across her body from his previous position, the slight human woman was making a precision laser cut.

  Blood mixed with Xxanian amniot rolled down her abdomen. No effort was made to collect it for purification and return to her body. This was slash surgery, at its finest.

  As if in answer to his fears of her losing too much blood, Tim strung up bags of blood, most likely synthesized from blood samples Sandy had given weeks earlier. He had them hooked into the IV and replacing what she’d lost in the blink of an eye.

  A thin cry caught Arren’s attention, and he whipped his head toward it. The first of his babies was halfway through the incision and already ramping up to a furious squall.

  His seir appeared at Arren’s back, rumbling the Xxanian welcome song. Arren joined in; Ray
n and Tim did likewise without pausing in their work.

  The young one was out and disappeared into the hands of a second female in a rush. Spark’s hands were back in the incision before Arren could protest his child being whisked away from him that way.

  They have to run tests, he reminded himself. Let them.

  “Female,” someone announced. “One point six kilos. She’s coming in at a six. Strong responses to stimuli.”

  Arren watched his younger babe emerge in Sparks’s grip. The young one was silent, and Arren’s heart pounded in terror hard enough to make his head spin.

  Breathe. For your Hauaa’s sake, breathe!

  Sparks handed the miniature babe to yet another female, then went to work with her flesh-knitting tools. “Second out,” she informed Rayn.

  He didn’t look up from his own work, and he nodded grimly.

  Breathe. The idea of going home without any of his family was inconceivable to him. It was horrific.

  “Female,” someone behind Sparks shouted. “One point one kilo. Three. Breathing but sluggish. I could use the seir’s help.”

  It took a moment for Arren to latch onto the truth that he was the seir in question, not Raashh. He turned and slammed headlong into his seir’s broad chest.

  Raashh pushed Arren past the milling humans. “Go. Care for your young. I will protect your mate.”

  “I thank the brother warrior.” It was out before Arren could think twice about the presumption of a Subdominant uttering the phrase.

  He’d hardly caught his breath to question what the women tending to his young needed from him when one turned on him and stroked a stinging gel over the musk ducts on his chest. Arren’s ridge plates stirred to life as his musk started to flow.

  In unison, the two women turned, each holding a tiny daughter wrapped in silk-lined flannel. They pressed the babes to him, faces nestled to his stimulated ducts.

  “Cup your arms under them,” one of them ordered.

  Arren complied, confused by the command, and two squirming bodies were entrusted into his care. The humans scanned the med-disks attached to his daughters’ chests.