Chapter Twenty-Two
Nemiah
Virion hovered in place in the lab, rolling from one foot to the other, his hips swaying as he read over research notes they’d been debating over for days.
Nemiah thought that blacksteel was sufficient to act as wire, but he had concerns with the conductivity and impurities. Not wanting to argue, he let Virion do his thing. He ordinarily would have solved something like that in a few hours, but Nemiah bit his tongue when it came to the scatterbrained mess his mate had become as their child grew, filling out his abdomen in a round swell that grew lower in his hips by the day. Concerningly low.
Hand resting atop his belly, he frowned and glanced up. “I don’t think it’s about the impurities at all. Blacksteel is fragile at best with impurities, so breakage is a concern before conductivity…”
Nemiah puzzled over the comment, mind whipping from his mate to the statement. “What if we tried a blend? There are more expensive metals that conduct thalm bett—”
“What’s the melting point of salicate?” Virion popped his head up, eyes wide.
“About thirty degrees over that of blacksteel.”
“See if we can amalgamate that and if it retains any of the original elasticity and pliability.” Virion wrote furious notes, bent over his desk, one hand tensed over the dome of his stomach.
“Sugarmoth, my love. Why don’t we go rest? You’ve slept poorly and you’re obsessing, I’m afraid.” Nemiah reached for Virion’s hand, placing his palm over his writing wrist purposefully.
Virion finished a few more words before dropping his pen into the holder and capping the inkwell. “I don’t like being patronized, brute.”
Nemiah opened his mouth to rebuke when Virion twisted his fingers in the air, thalmic energy dancing over them. With a quick flick, he prodded Nemiah’s nose and, against his will, his horns unglamoured with an uncomfortable tingle of his scalp.
Nemiah shook the sensation away and frowned. “Now see here, petulant omega. Maybe you need to be patronized if you’re going to behave so churlishly.” He schooled his expression to a mischievous smile, scooping Virion into a rough grope around his upper waist, hand supporting his belly.
Virion laughed and struggled, huffing as Nemiah kissed at his neck and ear, nibbling playfully. “Should I quarantine you to our bedchambers?”
“You’d have a foul time trying to keep me stilled.”
“I could manage to fuck you limp for a while. Would be hard work, but I could keep you bedbound until you birth.” Nemiah nipped his neck playfully, unable to keep his cock from hardening to a ridge of interest in his breeches. He wanted but he’d never push Virion, not in his delicate condition and constant exhaustion.
Virion hummed with pleasure at the suggestion, but didn’t grind back into him as he normally did when propositioned.
Nemiah reached down and scooped a hand below his mate’s belly, reaching for his sinfully flaccid groin. Frowning, he ceased his ministrations. “Are my advances unwanted? We can go get a snack and cuddle instead. I’d hate to trouble you.”
Virion shook his head and sighed. “No. I have to use the Telecon and then we can go to the bedchambers. Would you be a dear and get Nilla for us?”
Nemiah’s heart fluttered. “Are you in pain?”
Virion pulled Nemiah’s hand back to his belly and instead of the ovoid softness, his belly trembled, taut and still. “I think our little one is at least giving us polite warning.”
“Understood. I’ll get Nilla, and what was your verdict on Mother and the girls?” Nemiah hesitated, pulling away, but Virion was too independent. He separated himself and released a slow, trembling breath.
“They can be in the room but drop the curtains. If any one of them tries to peek at the goings on, they’re to leave, no questions asked.” Virion’s pink eyes darkened slightly at his threat, pupils drawing into pinpricks of threat.
“Understood. That’s far better than they’d thought.” Nemiah bowed his head and strode off right as Virion leaned over the control panel and spun the wheel of the connection node to Liaberos, where a light would flicker and harsh chimes would alert the attendant nearest.
Nemiah broke into a light jog, caught between propriety and excitement, unease at leaving his mate alone.
“King Nemi—” His page, Reimun, caught him in a light jog, Sima scampering up behind him, rather adorable in his tailored outfit, notebook in hand. A charcoal pencil sat neatly tucked over an ear, ready for any notes to take. His writing skills were atrocious but improving, not that Nemiah would say a word to discourage the poor boy.
“Can you find my mother, please? Have her to my chambers and see if the nymphs would join her.” Nemiah glanced down the hall.
“Perhaps it would be best you found your mother and the ladies if Virion needs her, as I think. I’ll find the healer.” The page offered a polite cough.
“Oh no! Lady Nilla is at the guardhouse today. I can go get her on my own!” Sima smartened up and beamed, determination in his fierce little pale eyes.
“Good thinking!” Nemiah stopped and patted the boy’s shoulder before he hastily shrugged his jacket off, handed it to his page, and let his little omega wings flutter free. His little curled horns stood straight, the tips pointed back as he beamed.
“Sima! No. Do no—” Reimun reached a hand out and Sima jogged into a nearby office, pushed the window open, and leaped, his wings carrying him off at a buzzing pace. With a harsh gasp, his beta page paled and gripped his chest at the sight. “Mother Goddess…”
“He knows what he’s doing, Reimun. I’ve taken him flying several times, and he’s good at it already.”
“But it still scares the goddess out of me!” Reimun shook his head and huffed. “He just jumps from windows.”
“I’ll speak with him about decorum later. Thank you. Please see the staff is made aware not to bother us and for the kitchen to send some carafes of water to the bedchambers.” Nemiah bowed his head and changed course, going for his mother and Virion’s office.
Probably from the sound of his metal claspings on his outfit or the clip of his smart boots, his mother alerted to his presence and stepped outside her office door, brows lifted. “Am I a grandmother?”
“Not yet. He’s agreed to allow you and the nymphs into the bedchamber on the agreement we keep the canopy curtains drawn and if anyone violates his privacy, he gets to kick everyone out.” Nemiah cleared his throat.
“More than fair. I’d not want my mother-in-law staring up my skirts.” She nodded sharply and followed Nemiah, holding the hems of her skirts as they swung by Virion’s dressing room, where he’d once slept before joining Nemiah’s chambers. The nymphs swept up to him, pearly pale eyes full of curiosity.
“Need I even tell you, or do your ears reach that far?” Nemiah beckoned them.
“Vir has been testy for a day and a half now. It’s been coming,” Artemis said, sniffing imperiously. “And why are you here playing messenger? Go be by his side!”
Nemiah stumbled as he turned and made his way toward their bedchambers, meeting Virion in the doorway, leaned against the frame.
“And this is our job.” Carefully, Clover assisted Virion into their chambers, shutting the door for privacy. Nemiah allowed them that moment of space to get Virion dressed. He had to feel vulnerable, especially considering that he felt ashamed to let Nemiah look at his body. He covered himself in gowns and kept his tunic on when they made love, lamenting the way his clothes fit, even the more masculine things becoming feminine as his pregnancy progressed.
Nemiah leaned against the hallway’s wall and took a deep breath, glancing about as his mother rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey. You’ll do fine. I promise.” She patted his cheek affectionately and took him into her arms for a long hug, like she did when he was small. When his father forbade her to coddle Nemiah, she merely held a cold face before him and others and lavished Nemiah with praise and love when nobody could see, aided by the nymphs when possible. On more than one occasion, they’d entertained the king, while Kiara tended Nemiah’s hurt feelings.
When the door finally opened, Nemiah peered in to find Virion in his nightshirt, padded with the birthing bedclothes they’d reserved. The curtains had yet to be drawn, but Nemiah would pull them together soon enough, as he wanted to do right then, to slide into bed next to him, hold his hand, and kiss all the pain away.
He tried to do just that, sidling onto the bed just in time for Sima to come running in with the healer at his heels, her face twisted into slight frustration. “If he’s not crying out, I told you it wasn’t likely to be urgent.” Nilla glared at Nemiah and Virion in turn before straightening her clothes.
She huffed and approached the bed, giving Nemiah a lingering glare before pulling back Virion’s blanket to prod at his belly in a few strategic places, each one making Virion grumble in pain. “I put it off as long as I felt comfortable, Nilla.”
The healer nodded, her sharp tongue dulled by whatever she felt before she waved for Sima to leave. The young boy stood in place and glanced about, unsure of where to go before Virion gave him a smile. “Clover, Ivy? Could one of you make sure Sima finds his way back to Reimun in a moment?” He waved Sima over to his bedside and gave the little one a ruffle to his head.
“I saw a cow have a baby once. It was loud.” Sima’s eyes went wide.
“Well, I’m unsure of how similar cows are to omegas, but you may be in my position one day. It will hurt, and I may cry and I may bleed.” Virion stroked over the trembling child’s head again as tears glistened in his eyes. “But that’s normal. That is what is supposed to happen. And I promise that when our little one comes, you may hold them and hear their name before all the kingdom does, hmm?”
Sima’s sadness went away in a blink, and he grinned in excitement. “You promise?”
“I promise. And tell Reimun to bring the family record in. You’re going to help him record the birth.”
Sima gasped in delight and took Ivy’s hand as she ushered him out, smiling endearingly as he babbled excitedly about seeing the baby’s name written for the first time.
Once the boy got a bit down the hall, Virion hissed in pain and writhed through a few breaths. “Hopefully, he doesn’t try to sneak back in. Don’t want to scare the little one.” Virion bit his lower lip, his voice cracking as he spoke.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. He understands the way of things,” Nilla said, helping Nemiah draw the curtains and pull the blankets back, unsurprised to find a growing pool of wetness in the towels he was seated upon.