When his worst fear comes true, Asgard's Dark Prince will stop at nothing to rescue his pregnant consort. Yet, not even the threat of Asgard's forces looming in the skies over Alfheim can force the Unseelie Winter Realm Elves to produce Shannon when...
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After several hours of walking, I was done. I needed rest. Despite how energetic I'd been when I woke, just that short period of walking quickly sapped my strength. I had no reserves at all. None. My head was pounding again, ice picks digging at my brain. It hurt to keep my eyes open and I found myself squinting. Looking around, I saw some large logs of driftwood washed up on the beach further ahead.
"Let's take a break for some sleep up there, okay? I need a rest," I said as I pointed at the logs.
"That's fine. I'll keep watch while you sleep. You are carrying two, after all." Elatha smiled as he looked down at my belly admiringly.
It was odd it didn't bother him in the slightest that I was huge with another male's child. In fact, he found it arousing. I shook my head, wincing at the sharp spike of pain at my inadvertent action. It had to be the difference in culture.
But was it specific to Fomorians? Or was my lack of understanding due to me thinking like a human and not an immortal? That needed to change. It could put me or my child in danger. I had to adapt to immortal life more quickly, to understand how they... we... thought. Starting with thinking of myself as an immortal, I chastened myself.
As a member of the Asgardian royal family, I had to do better. I needed to adapt faster and be more accepting of other immortal cultures. Accidentally teaching my child poor attitudes or inadvertently causing a war or offense that could cost lives was not how I wanted to start my immortal life. Continuing in ignorance wasn't okay.
Yet, I didn't know how to shed mortal thoughts and values that I'd spent thirty-five years learning. Sure, that was a blink of an eye to an immortal, but I didn't have the benefit of those long years of experience. Instead, I was an adult in the immortal world that normally didn't reach maturity until they were closer to one hundred years old. But I didn't have sixty-five years to catch up.
There is no choice. I have to do better. I have to. My child deserves my best. I can't fail at this.
Although I was sure it would most likely blow up in my face, still, I needed to try to understand. Hesitantly, I took the leap and asked, "Why do you find my pregnancy arousing when it isn't your child?"
Maybe by being blunt, I could avoid any flirtatious aspects that might bite me on the ass.
Great. Even my brain is constantly throwing innuendos at me.
Elatha looked surprised. "Why wouldn't I? Immortals don't reproduce very often. Every pregnancy is celebrated, as it is a rare event. A female might go hundreds or even thousands of years before becoming pregnant or between children."
His response stunned me while I considered the ramifications. Those kinds of time scales were hard for me to put into perspective. How could I wrap my mind around a concept that I had no real frame of reference for? But once I considered it, the logic made sense given the sizes of immortal populations. Of course they have a low fertility rate.
