Having the Barbarian's Baby (Ice Planet Barbarians, #7.5)
Ruby Dixon
Having the Barbarian’s Baby
Megan’s ready to give birth, but she’s not ready to let her mate leave her side. When Cashol must go hunting to feed the tribe, they’re separated for the first time since resonance. Not a problem, except the baby’s ready to be born and there’s a storm brewing…
This is a short story set in the ICE PLANET BARBARIANS world. It does not stand alone, and is intended to be read after BARBARIAN’S MATE. It’s a little bit of sweetness for those that can’t get enough of the big blue aliens! Happy reading!
1
MEGAN
The tea over the communal fire is ready, so I lean over with my favorite bone cup in hand to dip it in.
Josie immediately bounces to her feet. “You want me to get that for you, Meggers?”
“I’m good,” I say, and brace my feet a little wider apart to steady myself so I don’t tumble, belly-first, into the fire pit. I’m a billion months pregnant - slight exaggeration - and ungainly, but I can still get my own tea.
“You can get mine, Josie,” Nora says as I dip my cup and then waddle back to my seat. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
Josie giggles at that understatement and takes Nora’s cup from the flat rock nearby where it’s waiting. Nora’s busy all right; Anna and Elsa are demanding babies and she’s currently nursing one, the other cradled on her knees. Poor Nora. She’s up with me and Josie - the tribe early-birds - before the wee hours of dawn because of the babies. Not that she looks unhappy. There’s a pleased but sleepy smile on her face as Elsa nurses and Anna waves her arms around. I don’t blame Nora for being happy - her twins are cute as buttons.
My stomach growls and I decide to doctor my tea a bit. Josie sets Nora’s tea-cup down and fills her own, then sits across from me and cradles it in her hands, blowing on the surface to cool it. Me? I pick up my bag and take out a pouch of hraku, the sweet, toffee-flavored baked seeds that are such a tasty treat. And I crush them in my hand and add the sprinkles to my hot tea, because the tea here on the ice planet is pretty bitter.
And then, because I’m pregnant as hell, I add some kah, the ultra-spicy, peppery meat-and-fat-and-seed trail rations to the mix and give my cup a swig.
Nora makes a gagging sound. “You are not going to drink that, are you?”
“It’s a bit like jalape?o oatmeal with caramel once the tea gets absorbed,” I tell her, watching my cup. “Ate three cupfuls of it yesterday.”
“That sounds horrid.”
Josie just looks at me, fascinated. “How long do you think before I get pregnancy cravings?”
“I didn’t get any,” Nora says, gently pulling Elsa from her left breast and then switching her to the other side. “You might not, either.”
“Oh man, I hope I do,” Josie breathes, then takes a sip of her tea. “I want to experience everything pregnancy has to offer.”
I set my cup down, since my breakfast-sludge is still concocting, and stretch my legs out. My favorite stool - a super-overstuffed leather pillow - doesn’t provide much back support and I need it lately. I put my hands to my lower back and rub at the ache there. “Give it time, Jo,” I tell her. “You’ll be pregnant for fourteen or fifteen months, so you’ll have lots of time to experience it all.” I’m trying not to be a crank-pot about things. Josie’s excited. She’s wanted babies for forever and a day and she’s finally resonated to her own mate. She’s about a month along and is eager for everything - morning sickness, the bloating, the swollen ankles, you name it.
Me? I’ve been pregnant for oh, fourteen months already and I’m way, way ready to be done.
I glance over at the front of the cave, near Vektal and Georgie’s place. My mate, Cashol, disappeared in there to chat with his chief about something, despite the ultra-early hour. And he’s been in there for about twenty minutes, long enough for Josie to build a fire, for tea to be put on, and for me to notice that he’s still freaking talking to the chief.
I’m nervous. I don’t know why, but I am. Vektal’s a great guy and Georgie’s a sweetheart, but I’m about a month away from giving birth and the last thing I want is for someone to be assigning my mate some ‘special’ project that takes him out of the caves. I have a sneaking suspicion that that’s what it is; Haeden - bless his surly, surly heart - commented the other day about how all the hunters go on long, extended hunts except for my mate. And he’s not wrong.