I turn and stalk out of the room.
As if from behind a waterfall, Zina’s voice reaches my ears, calling my name, but I push on, bumping into walls, too shut down to follow guidance from my sensors. Too lost to even know where I’m running to, or what I’m trying to escape from.
Space.
I need to get in my ship and get off this planet.
Get away from the incredible pain of who I am and the destruction I’ve caused.
Chapter 13
Zina
It takes four planet rotations before the grief turns into anger, but when it does, it comes on strong.
Strong enough to get me out of my dormitory and into the sunlight. Strong enough to feed my unborn child, despite the queasiness that makes me throw up between every meal.
Strong enough to find Abbi and tell her I figured out what I want to do on Zandia.
I march into the common room where she’s sitting and stand with my hands on my hips. “I’d like to run a child care center. For the human women who need a break or wish to work part-time or full-time.”
Abbi stares at me in surprise. “Are you feeling better?”
I wave away the question with a flick of my hand. “Do you think they’d let me?”
She unfolds her legs from the hover seat where she was sitting and comes to stand. “Yes, I’m sure they’d love that. There are several older, non-breeding women who work as nannies in the palace.
I wince a little at the term non-breeding. “Guess I’m considered a breeder now, huh?” I should be happy. It’s what I’ve always wanted but knew would never be possible. Even if I hadn’t been sterilized, female slaves don’t get to keep their young. My dream of having my own child to raise would never have come true.
Now it seems it has.
And yet the pain in my chest won’t go away.
Tarek’s cutting words—his anger over my pregnancy keep shredding and re-shredding my heart. He disappeared after he heard the news. I heard he bumped up the timing on a mission that had been in the planning stages, so he’s not even on Zandia. And no being can tell me when he’ll be back.
Not that I was asking.
Much.
But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need him to have this baby, and he doesn’t deserve
to be in its life, anyway.
And I don’t care if my precious young is blind, or one legged, or born with horns in the wrong place. It will be my young. My very own baby to hold and to raise.
Abbi gazes at me with sympathy. “You’re not a breeder. You got pregnant enjoying yourself with a handsome warrior. Right?”
I suck in my breath and nod. “Yes. That sounds much better than breeder. Thank you.”
“There are other Zandian warriors out there who would probably be happy to claim a female as a mate, even if the child she’s carrying isn’t his own.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want another warrior. I can do this on my own. I mean, if that’s permitted.”
Abbi shrugs. “Everything goes through King Zander. But he is a benevolent leader and his human mate has his ear. You just need to know what you want to do and then petition for his approval. There may be stipulations, like a Zandian will have to govern you to make sure you and the young fit into Zandian society.”
My stomach twists. I don’t want any being governing me but Tarek. But no—he lost his chance.
“He may command you and Tarek to mate. You should be prepared for that. If you don’t want that scenario, be clear about why not.”