Nyell felt like digging a hole and burying himself six feet under. Layla, who was now sitting on the night desk for some reason, was staring at him with her big, round, innocent eyes, while Allen had gone to the kitchen to wash his hands. Nyell, too, would have loved to disappear into the bathroom and clean himself, especially since the lube was dripping on his thighs, a strict reminder of what they had been doing moments ago – but he couldn't right now. Thankfully, his little childish act from earlier had made it so that the robe hadn't dropped to the ground and had been covering his rear, and thus, Layla didn't get to see what was happening underneath; that was the only saving grace preventing him from dying out of embarrassment.
'Odd,' he thought, frowning as he buried his head in his hands. 'Why am I feeling so shy about it? It's not like me.'
Werewolves tended not to give a damn about others when they were overwhelmed by excitement, and public decency was something very low on their priority list. The number of people he'd caught red-handed was too high to bother to count. Whenever and wherever, if some felt like getting into it, they would likely do so. The only tacit consensus they had was to avoid doing in front of children, as the kids didn't understand, and their curiosity often pushed them to imitate what they had seen with their friends. It could cause some problems.
Layla wasn't a child per se, but it seemed like Nyell was seeing her as such. Maybe that was why he felt so bad about it. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have minded much. In fact, knowing himself, he might as well have snarled at the intruder and told them to fuck off. It had been getting good, after all. Now, he was left feeling empty and uncomfortable, his ass still tingling.
"So?" Allen's voice echoed throughout the bedroom, snapping Nyell out of his stupor. "Is something the matter, Layla?"
The girl blinked her big, round eye, glancing at Nyell before turning her attention back to the shaman. She slowly nodded before gesturing signs Nyell couldn't understand, although he didn't miss the sorrowful look that passed through Allen's face. It was so deep it made his heart clench in pain. Somehow, he could feel something terrible had happened, or was about to happen.
Allen heaved a long sigh before ruffling Layla's fluffy hair. He smiled reassuringly and said in a soft, comforting voice, "I'll be going down and see what I can do. If we're lucky, I won't be too late. Don't worry too much."
A nod was the girl's response, and she once again glanced at Nyell. She stared at him for a long second before tilting her head toward him and signaling something else to Allen, her eyes filled with curiosity. They seemed to sparkle with interest as well. It stirred up a bad premonition in the pit of Nyell's stomach, which only grew heavier at Allen's twitching mouth. The guy was refraining from laughing, and it was clearly at his expense.
"What did she say?" Nyell asked.
"Well," Allen seemed to hesitate a second, but Layla's stars-filled gaze made it hard to keep quiet. So, he turned and honestly repeated what she had asked, "She's wondering if you're officially her mom now."
"Layla," Nyell massaged his temples, unsure whether to cry or laugh. "You know I'm male, right?"
To the question, she nodded, her innocent eyes still locked onto him.
"So, why are you asking if you're getting a mom?" Nyell squinted his eyes as Layla appeared confused, frowning ever so slightly. Her obliviousness was frustrating, and Nyell tried hard not to point at Allen and scream that, between them, he should be the mom. For goodness' sake, his fated mate had the androgenous look, not him! Unlike the shaman, it was nearly impossible to mistake him for a woman, unless someone had really, really bad eyesight. "If anything, you're getting a second dad. Not a mom, a dad."
At these words, the frown on the girl's forehead relaxed, quickly replaced by a blinding smile as she snapped her head toward Allen, as if to make sure she had heard well. She wanted his confirmation on the matter, but all she saw was a stunned Allen. It drew more questions than anything, and the frown once again furrowed her brow. Was there something wrong? Nyell could almost hear the gears turn in her head. She was probably wondering if parents had to be composed of a male and a female partner. Couldn't she just have two dads? Or was that impossible…?
"Allen," Nyell chuckled, not hiding his glee one bit at the man's shocked face. It felt great to be the one to render the other speechless for once. "If you don't wipe that dumbfounded look off your face, you're going to make Layla cry."
"Oh, sorry," Allen snapped back to reality, smiling at his little protégé. "Nyell is right. It's another dad that you're getting, not a mom. Does that bother you?"
Furiously shaking her head, Layla jumped down from the night desk to pounce on Nyell for a hug. She almost cut the air off his lungs with the strength she used, but Nyell didn't complain, only letting out a huff at the painful sensation, before patting her on the back. She was bubbling with joy, so happy she seemed to hum. The faint noise sounded a little odd, maybe because of the lack of tongue. In any case, she was delighted beyond words, and that warmed Nyell's heart.
Allen discreetly cleared his throat, grabbing Nyell's attention. He lifted his eyes, and the shaman mouthed, 'Since when have we been officially together?'
Since when? Who knows. Nyell's answer consisted of a mischievous smile and a shrug. It could be when the trial of the Fated Mates had recognized their bond for all to see, or it could be from the moment Nyell had accepted to follow him to his tribe. And again, it could be from a few minutes ago, when Nyell had finally accepted Allen as his fated mate, and, by extension, his official mate in his book.
***
After Nyell took a quick bath and changed, they left to go down the mountain, walking a discreet path that he had yet to notice toward an unused area of the mountain range. Why was it left uninhabited? He had no idea, and considering the heavy atmosphere, he didn't feel like asking, so he followed in silence.
After almost an hour of hiking, they arrived at their destination. Nyell felt many gazes fell upon them when they entered the hideout, where Myrven had brought the rescued enslaved people, including the children and women he had saved from the shipwreck.
The hideout was a vast dome dug into the mountain, like most buildings in the White Moon tribe. Although it was crude and not as decorated as Allen's house, the place still had a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Everyone had their own bedding and some furniture to put in the few possessions they had, which mostly consisted of blankets and clothing given to them by Myrven on Allen's orders. The children had also been given toys, and some had been playing with them when they arrived, though they all stopped when they noticed their arrival. A few couldn't help themselves and quickly scattered to hide behind the adults.
"Where is she?" Allen, not minding the children's behavior, asked Myrven, who tilted his head toward a secluded room. Neither said anything and instead walked toward the door. Nyell hesitated an instant before following in tow, dragging Layla with him. She was standing by his side, holding onto his hand. He could sense that she was nervous, an unusual thing considering she was always fearlessly jumping into danger, even more than he was.
"Are you alright?"
Layla nodded, but she couldn't hide the sadness veiling her eyes. He decided not to probe further and see the situation for himself. Still, he couldn't resist sucking in a deep breath before entering the room, steeling himself.
Inside, Nyell recognized the woman who had spoken up in the cave. She was bedridden, lying on a makeshift bed. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken, more than the last time he had seen her, and her skin had taken on an ashen hue. An acrid odor filled the room, making him wrinkle his nose. By her side sat the little boy, who was holding onto her hand with misty eyes. He looked on the verge of breaking down.
But despite her visible sorry state, she spoke in a steady voice with her strong accent, "I hope you'll forgive me for not being able to sit and greet you properly, my Lord."
Allen crouched by her side and waved his hand, letting her know that he didn't care much about pleasantries. The sarcasm in her voice was also dripping, and only a deaf man wouldn't hear it. He didn't point it out, however. Instead, he asked:
"How are you feeling?"
"I don't think I'll make it past midnight," she shook her head, caressing the little boy's hand. "It seems like my body is rejecting it this time. Not like the first pregnancy had been anything easy, but…"
A sigh ended her sentence. Nyell, troubled, glanced at Allen with a questioning gaze. At the woman's words, Layla had tightened her grip on his hand with so much strength he felt his bones crack, and her body was now shaking slightly. What was going on, exactly?
"I can give you three choices," Allen said calmly. "The first one is to do nothing, and we can watch over you as you die. The second is to get rid of the fetus inside your stomach, and your health will gradually get better. The third is to try to save both of your lives, but at the cost of an agonizing pregnancy; months of pain await if you choose that option. Do you want a bit of time to think it over?"
The woman's jaw dropped ajar as she stared at Allen in disbelief. It took a moment before she could utter anything, finally letting out a small chuckle. They said the White Moon Lord could create miracles, and maybe they weren't wrong. Her free hand was now plastered against her discreetly bulging stomach. She didn't appear pregnant yet, but she knew it wouldn't last. She would balloon soon enough.
"You know, if you had asked me before my first child was born, I'd have told you to get rid of it without a second thought." She paused to glance at the boy, who was tearing up by her side. He couldn't understand what she was saying, as she spoke a language unknown to him. Still, he could tell his mother wasn't doing well. "Now, I don't know. It's not the kid's fault in any way… And I fear I might lose a second treasure if I don't choose wisely."
Again, Allen said nothing, and neither did Myrven or Nyell. Layla didn't try to intervene, either. She only held onto Nyell's hand, staying still. A few seconds passed before the woman mustered the courage to ask, as if that last question could help her make up her mind:
"Will you also cut the baby's tongue after I give birth to it?"
"No," Allen shook his head. "These fools do it only because they fear the beings they force into this world, and fear the words that might come out of their mouths once they grow old enough. I believe that as long as the child is brought up with love and care, they will not bring disaster to our realm. No being is fundamentally evil, much like no being is fundamentally good. That is my belief."
A smile finally stretched the woman's lips, curling up the corners of her lips until her eyes turned into crescent-shaped moons. Tears welled, but she held them back as she grinned, "Then, what's there to think about? I'll take the third option."