Chapter 15 #2
Finals hit the last week of April and carried into early May. Emmy knew the material front and back, but she still studied diligently to be certain she’d keep her four-point-zero average, reviewing notes and running through practice problems.
Zander often brought her tea and snacks while she worked, never staying long but always checking in. Spence made sure she ate more solid sustenance, and rubbed her shoulders when she was tense.
“You’re going to ace them,” he said one evening, working tension out of her neck.
“I know.” She leaned into his touch. “But I want to be sure.”
The exams themselves were almost anticlimactic. She walked out of each one confident, checking answers off mentally, knowing she’d nailed them.
Her last final of this semester was on the first Tuesday of May — Advanced Genetics, three hours of essay questions and problem sets. She finished with twenty minutes to spare, double-checked her work, and walked out into sunshine feeling lighter than she had in months.
No more classes until the summer term started, and even then it would only be two courses to finish her degree requirements, plus one she wanted to take just for the knowledge.
The University of Anchorage specializes in degrees for people researching the flora, fauna, and creatures of the wild, and she figured it couldn’t hurt to learn about some of the ways wolf packs differed in habits and social requirements, since she figured it was likely due to a combination of genetics and the various landscapes they had to survive in.
Eventually, she’d be studying werewolf genetics, so everything she could learn about natural wolves, she should.
Until those classes started, though, she could focus singularly on the rabbits, data analysis, and the actual wording of her thesis.
She called her mother that evening, curled up on the sofa with Spence beside her.
“How did finals go?” her mom asked.
“I don’t have the results back yet, but I’m certain I aced them. One more semester, and only three more classes.” She sighed. “And the gauntlet of defending my thesis.”
“I’m so proud of you.” Her mother’s voice was warm. “Oh, I wanted to show you something. Hang on, I’ll text it to you.”
The text came through moments later, and Emmy opened the video.
One of her youngest siblings in a black leotard and pink tights stood en pointe in a sunlit studio, moving through a ballet sequence with the kind of grace that made Emmy’s throat tight.
“That’s the dance Julliard required as part of their video auditions,” Sophia said. “We got the notification about an hour ago. She starts in the fall.”
Emmy watched her younger sister move like water, like air, like a swan given human form. “She’s incredible. I haven’t seen her dance in…” She did the math in her head. “Two years? That’s too long.”
“It is. We’d love to have you come for a visit, when you have time. Maybe at the end of the summer, once you wrap everything up with your schoolwork?”
“Yes,” Emmy said, and meant it. The rift with her family was healing, slowly but surely.
Spence had easily seen the video from his spot beside her, and after she hung up, he asked, “Exactly how many siblings do you have?”
Emmy blew out a breath.
“I’m a triplet, so I’m closest to Sapphire and Hunter.
Our parents waited seven years to have the swanlings.
Sextuplets, and then got the crazy idea to immediately make more dragons, so the swans and dragons would be close to the same age and grow up all together.
There are five in that clutch. It’s crazy, with eleven siblings so close in age. ”
“Lyra is only thirteen, though,” he noted.
“Right. She’s actually part of an ‘oops’ brood, conceived at a big Swan thing in Faerie, a holiday where mom and dad were both in their swan forms, and then there was obligatory sex after, because Faerie just loves a good orgy.”
She played the video again, to get off the subject of all her siblings, and he said, “She moves like you do when you fly.”
Emmy blinked. “I don’t fly gracefully. I fly like a dragon.”
“Exactly.” His hand found hers. “Power and grace. Both of you have it.”
She leaned against his shoulder, warmth blooming in her chest, and let herself imagine a future where the family fractures could fully heal.
The following day, her Gen1 rabbits hit six weeks old, and Emmy began preparing for the next phase.
In another six weeks they’d be sexually mature enough to breed.
She’d need to decide which to pair with domestic rabbits, which with cottontails, and whether any changes would need to be made in her data collection.
But for now, she just watched them hop around their enclosures, healthy and thriving, and let herself feel the quiet triumph of it.
She’d come far enough for her master’s degree. Her research, her methodology, her breakthrough. Even if none had babies, she’d been successful with three of four mothers, all having healthy litters. It should only take some small tweaks to go the next step to make them viable.
But the genetics told her they would be, so there was reason to hope.
Zander found Spencer in his office reviewing the week’s flock schedule, looking at the monitors with that focused intensity Zander had come to adore.
“Felix is heading to the workout room,” Zander said, leaning against the doorframe. “I think he could use some company.”
Spencer looked up, immediately understanding. “You want me to check on him.”
“I think it would be good. We know he’s missing Vex. Maybe you could get a better handle on how he’s truly doing.” Zander let the sentence hang. He knew exactly how their hare was doing, but he didn’t know how to help him. Spence would figure it out, but he needed to focus on the problem, first.
“I’ll head up now.” Spence saved his work and stood. “Anything specific I should watch for?”
“Just get a feel for where he is emotionally. He trusts you.”
Spence nodded and left, and Zander headed to the kitchenette on their level.
Emmy would be working — she was always working, as she should be with her rabbit research going so well, but he’d been equally busy getting the latest restaurant up and running, and they hadn’t given Spence nearly enough attention. That needed to change.
He made hot chocolate the way she liked it, added a splash of Kahlua for warmth, and surveyed the kitchen. The brownies caught his eye, and he warmed them, arranged everything on a tray, and made his way to their bedroom.
Despite their schedules, they’d managed to find time for sex multiple times per week, but it’d mostly just been quickies with all three of them.
He also fucked Spencer some when it was just the two of them, and he knew Emmy fucked their boy when she needed a short break — or made him go down on her.
But they hadn’t spent the kind of time hurting and using their boy that he craves and needs.
Emmy sat at the desk in their bedroom, laptop open, three monitors showing data and one with text, wearing noise-canceling headphones. She didn’t notice him until he set the mug beside her elbow.
She pulled off the headphones, and her face softened when she saw him. “You made me hot chocolate.”
He put the plate of brownies beside the coffee. “And a snack.”
He settled into the chair behind her desk, and she swiveled to face him.
“Can you spare ten minutes?” he asked.
“For you? Always.” She turned, saved her work, and reached for the mug, inhaling the steam as she turned back to him. “What’s on your mind?”
Zander watched her take the first sip, saw the pleasure cross her face, and felt the familiar satisfaction of providing for her needs.
“We haven’t given Spencer a proper scene in too long.
It’s my fault — the new restaurant has consumed my time, but it’s up and running smoothly now, with competent managers in place. ”
“It’s my fault, too,” Emmy said immediately. “Finals, the rabbits, all the data analysis. I’ve been distracted.”
“Fault doesn’t matter. But we need…” He paused, started again. “If you can set aside some time now that finals are behind you, I’d like to give him an eight-hour scene this Saturday. Both of us with him the entire time.”
Emmy’s eyebrows rose. “Eight hours is … a lot. Hurting him for that long will have to be carefully planned. What do you have in mind?”
“He needs to be completely exhausted when we finish. After nearly two months without a thorough, lengthy scene, this next one needs to be beyond intense. While we’re at it, I’d like it to be a scene he’ll remember for years, something he can feel proud of surviving.
A scene he’ll still think of while beating off a century from now. ”
Zander paused, considering how to phrase the rest. “We’ll be with him the entire time except for brief bathroom breaks. He’ll use a urinal bottle. Eight hours of pain and endurance, no breaks.”
“His own endurance, without your power,” Emmy said, and he was pleased she was thinking it through.
“Yes. I’ll strip him of my power while he undresses, and we’ll show him just how strong he is on his own.
” Zander felt the familiar hunger rise in his chest — not for blood, but for the gift of Spencer’s submission.
“He begged for it, to be made helpless and powerless. We’ll show him that, even without my power, he’s strong. ”
Emmy was quiet for a moment, breaking off a piece of brownie, her expression thoughtful — and the scent of her arousal filled the room.
“Yeah. I’m in. What do you have in mind?”
Zander smiled and began to explain his plans, knowing Emmy would have things to add, to make it an even better experience for their boy.