Authors: Violet Walker
"Is something funny?" Luthias asked, annoyed.
"Us," she said, slowly lowering herself to stand. "We get carried away, don't we?"
He looked at her a long moment, caught off guard. Then, he surprised her with a smile.
"Yes. I suppose we do."
Elizabeth stumbled a short distance away, sliding on her panties, pulling on her dress. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him primping himself: buttoning his shirt, shaking out the few tangles in his long hair. Now freed of the burden of secrecy, Elizabeth softly cupped her swollen belly, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to admire the miracle happening within her. To her surprise, Luthias would soon join her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his cheek in her hair as his hand covered hers. For the first time since returning to the palace, she felt at home.
"I'll have a nursery prepared," he promised.
She leaned back against him, watching the flames that danced in the fireplace.
"How will we know if the baby is yours?" she asked.
"There's always a family resemblance. When it's born, we'll know."
"Isn't there a way to know sooner?"
She felt him shake his head.
"Not with our kind."
Elizabeth squeezed his hand. Dread tightened her throat once more, but as Luthias' warmth enveloped her, its power lessened.
"I'm afraid," she whispered.
Gently, he kissed the top of her head.
"I'm here."
For now, that was all that needed to be said.
W
ith Avery's threat now obsolete, life soon settled down for the expectant mother. She would return to sharing Luthias' room, finding that he was more attentive now than he had ever been. He made good on his word: a nursery was constructed in a spare room walking distance from his own, although she overheard his advisor Ezekial recommending that he keep the nursery on a separate floor. Apparently, keeping the baby close would mean that his enemies would see the child as an exploitable weakness. Luthias insisted on its placement regardless, and Elizabeth’s love grew all the more when she glimpsed him changing his route to his meetings in order to pass the room, checking on its progress.
Avery returned to avoiding Elizabeth, though she could feel that his resentment towards her had taken on a darker hue. She tried to ignore this.
Although things were calmer now, she wasn’t entirely freed from her problems—particularly, the persistence of Emilie’s voice. Sometimes Elizabeth would go days without hearing it, lulling her to believe that she had imagined it all along. Then, a conversation with Kieran or a castle worker would spark vivid dreams of another time, with Emilie and Luthias struggling against one another in violence, lust, cruelty, and passion. After this, Emilie’s presence would return full force, mocking her for each curtsy, each passive acceptance of Luthias’ requests, even for the modest clothes she wore to hide her changing figure.
Luthias was aware of her hallucinations, but he was more than reluctant to speak about it openly. He seemed of the mind that if a problem was buried long enough, it would cease to be a problem. Elizabeth, having endured life with similar sentiments, followed his lead.
As Elizabeth grew bigger, Luthias became suddenly more protective. The lord placed ever more restrictions on her life: She was never to be outside alone, never to walk up more than one flight of stairs by herself, and she was to eat at least four meals a day. The last rule she protested the most, horrified enough by how much weight she was packing onto her once-slender frame, but Luthias insisted that it was better to eat more than less where Canine children were concerned.
Though still slim for how pregnant she was, she hardly recognized herself at the seven-month mark. Her thighs and arms had thickened, ass far rounder, as if softened by the need to cushion the basketball that had once been her flat stomach. Each breast must have been half the size of her belly, squeezed together in a shapeless bra that supported them enough to keep them from aching—it was so tight now that she hoped they would be discouraged enough by the lack of space to finally stop swelling. Uncomfortable in her own skin, she found it difficult to sit and focus during her tutors' lessons, prescribed during the hours Luthias had to see to his subjects. For Luthias' sake, she tried to suffer her education.
A young man named Nevan was tasked with teaching her the history of Canine nobility. She assumed he was young, but she found it was next to impossible to determine how old anyone was in the castle. He wasn't quite handsome, with a hooked nose and lips pressed thin by anxiety, but like all Canines he was tall and of an impressive build. A family tree was spread out across the table. Nevan made broad gesture across it as he spoke. Elizabeth couldn't focus on what he was saying, unfortunately. She felt a terrible pressure in her gut, which usually meant her child was about to subject her to the latest of its growth spurts, an unpleasant phenomenon she didn't want to suffer in front of her teacher. Nothing could be done except careful breathing, meant to postpone the inevitable.
"Our Lord Ultan took a mate in his 200th year of reign, but she never bore children. The Cennasaí title would be passed down his mistress' son, Alois, the great-grandfather of Lord Luthias. You remember Alois' son's name?"
Elizabeth exhaled, focusing on her hand as it pressed slightly between her thigh and the underside of her belly. It took a moment to realize Nevan had asked a question.
"I'm sorry?"
"Can you remember the name of Lord Luthias' grandfather?" Nevan asked.
"Ah..."
She cringed, pressing a hand to her temple.
"Was it...Cadogan?"
"That is—correct," he said, surprised. "I don't know why I doubted you, Ms. Elizabeth."
She smiled weakly, letting him continue. Even so, her thoughts wandered, despite the brimming pressure in her stomach. As her eyes drifted across the family tree, she noticed something odd about Luthias’ entry. There was a line between him and a woman that indicated matehood, but it wasn't Emilie's name he was tied to. Instead, there was "Miyako."
"When you say mate, is that like marriage?" she asked, thinking perhaps she misunderstood.
“It is similar,” he admitted. "But a human marriage is largely symbolic. When demons mate, the female is consenting to a union with the male that will permanently mark her person with his scent—or claim, if you will. When a woman has been claimed, she can never be unclaimed, though there are rumors that a claim can be overwritten by male of higher pedigree.”
"That sounds...primal."
"I suppose it must, if you were raised by humans. It's just how things work. Now, Alois actually had three mates over the course of his reign..."
Elizabeth did her best to listen, but just then she felt the skin around her bellybutton tighten, the active baby within her stilled as that horrible pressure welled. Though she tried to stop it, a moan escaped her as her belly suddenly swelled another inch on all sides. It turned out her dress was at capacity; she paled with horror when she heard the seam down her back rip open.
Nevan was staring at her, bewildered. She felt like a freak.
"I...um..." She stood from her chair, grabbing her coat off the back to wrap around her shoulders. "I think I'll...leave early," she muttered.
"By all means," he said, always polite.
Quickly, she excused herself. She didn't know where she would go, since she wasn't tired enough to nap and she certainly wasn't hungry enough to eat, but putting distance between herself and her tutor was enough of a goal. After just a few paces, she knew she had to at least change her dress--she felt the hole widen beneath her jacket as mere breathing strained her swollen breasts and stomach against the seams. The doctors warned her that the baby might come sooner than expected; at times like this, she hoped they were right.
As she made her way back to her chambers, she found herself dwelling on what she had seen in the records: Luthias and his mysterious mate, Miyako. She had never heard any mention of another woman, not from Luthias, Avery, or even Kieran. Maybe Miyako was someone Luthias had been with after Emilie—but that didn't seem right, since everyone attested that he had been alone since Emilie died—though it was possible that she had been someone in his life long before. He was old, she knew. How old though...she realized she had never even asked.
She was surprised to come upon Luthias in the hall, lounging on the wide ledge of a stained-glass window in a manner more befitting Kieran than himself. He held his forehead in his hand, apparently frustrated—but there was something sexy about this brooding look. Though she knew it was just her hormones on edge after the child's spurt, she found herself needlessly aroused, wet with the thought of him whipping out his cock and fucking her against the window.
Too soon, he realized she was there. He sat up, startled.
"Elizabeth."
She blushed, embarrassed to have interrupted his private moment and of how far her thoughts had gotten away from her. Before she could apologize, he calmed, moving aside to allow space on the ledge.
"Sit."
It wasn't to talk, she knew. He didn't like her standing for long periods of time. With a sigh, she joined him, carefully lowering herself until her ass hit the concrete and she could lean against the glass. She hated how clumsy she had become.
"I don't want to see Nevan for a while," she murmured.
Luthias slid his arm around her waist, tucking her against his body.
"Why?" he asked.
"Just...because."
He didn't pry. As his hand gently caressed her side, she relaxed, feeling that maybe life wasn't as difficult as she had thought.
"How old are you?" she asked, remembering her curiosity.
Luthias hesitated.
"I believe...four-hundred and seven," he said.
She balked at this number. He had been alive during the end of monarchy in Europe, was old enough to have seen America as British colony, the discovery of electricity, penicillin, wars before and after firearms—he had lived countless lifetimes. Her twenty-two years must have been meaningless in his eyes.
"When did you meet Miyako?" she asked.
All at once, he tensed. His face was vacant, withholding some feeling too terrible to express.
"How do you know that name?"
"She was listed as your mate," she explained, worried that she had upset him. "I assumed it was from a long time ago..."
He closed his eyes, very still. When he regarded her again, however, he was calm.
"I'll see that the record is changed."
Luthias kissed her, silencing any questions before they could be asked. She realized with frustration that for all the education he forced her to endure, she was being kept ignorant about the simplest of things. Why was there a history that recorded "Miyako" where Emilie should have been? In fact, she realized then that she had no idea what had happened to Emilie. Emilie had died—that was all anyone would say.
He won't even say the slut's name.
Emilie's voice bit through her thoughts, harsher than ever. Elizabeth pulled away from Luthias on instinct, suddenly nauseated. Luthias touched her back to support her, anxious at the sudden change, but he rarely asked her to explain. As the sensation faded, she savored the fresh air. Once again, she decided to leave the mystery for another day.
"Nevan explained mating," she said, when she was calm.
"Hn."
He seemed hesitant, waiting for her to elaborate.
"He said that demons could claim their woman," she explained. "Marking them, somehow..."
Luthias nodded.
"Correct."
"How?"
She didn't know what drove her sudden interest, or why she watched so intently for his reaction. Was it possible that she wanted...an offer? No, that was absurd. Besides, she was pregnant...maybe it wasn't even possible while she was this heavy.
Luthias avoided her gaze, pushing his fingers through his hair.
"A claim is done during intercourse," he said, blunt. "Instead of releasing semen, a sort of chemical is spent by the male at climax. This chemical is spread through the bloodstream of the woman, altering her scent to align with her mate's."
"So, it's just sex?" she asked.
"It's a...formal affair. Essentially, yes."
"Emilie went through it?"
After a pause of reluctance, Luthias would nod.
"Yes. She was claimed by me, in the end."
"And you could do the same to me?"
This, too, gave him pause. When he saw how eagerly she awaited his reply, her question a thinly-veiled request, he appeared all the more hesitant to speak.
Elizabeth touched his hand where it lay upon the ledge, patient. He sighed.
"I will, if you wish it. But the consequences are permanent: you'll never be able to entertain another man. My scent will sicken them when they advance—that's the purpose of the claim. You'll be mine, forever."
To her, that sounded like heaven. All her life she had been passed between households, from boyfriend to boyfriend, client to client, never grounded in any one place, never more than an object for others to admire. Although Luthias had secrets, his love for her was the most stable thing she had ever known: for all the damage she had watched him inflict, he had never harmed her; he made love to her tenderly, provided her all the comforts life could give, and even gave her freedom to spend her days as she saw fit, albeit with a leash that had shortened in recent months. Perhaps it was naivety that allowed her to be so easily content, but in the end, she was a simple girl. She felt no fear when she squeezed his hand, giving her reply.
"I want your claim. To be your mate...if you'll have me, like this."
Surprised as he was, she knew he was happy. She glimpsed it in the flicker of his smile.
"Then return to your chambers. Bathe, if you have the energy. I'll have a handmaiden bring you a proper gown when it's time."
He kissed her, and helped her to her feet. Whatever had been on his mind before then was long gone. Elizabeth felt him watching her as she left, a (metaphorical) skip in her step. Tonight, she would be mated to the man she loved.