Page 39 of His Stubborn Mate

“Ye have a hefty set of lungs on ye, wee one.”

The bairn let me—and the world—know his dissatisfaction, and I smiled.

Palton’s Spear, I had a son!

When I was finished, I wrapped him as tightly as I could manage, thinking he might appreciate being bundled warmly. But before I tucked his left arm into the swaddling, I allowed the claw on one finger to spring free just enough to stroke down his tiny, perfect palm.

The wee one ceased his whimpering as his five fingers wrapped around mine, and he glared up at me with dark eyes I knew couldn’t focus past his nose. One day, these small fingers would grow claws, and after he weaned, the beginnings of tiny tusks would appear along his lower jaw. Until then, he needed us to keep him safe and healthy.

My son.

Abruptly, tears filled my eyes, and I gasped at the sudden tightness in my chest, as if I’d received a blow during a sparring session.

I had a son.

I had a Mate.

If this wee bairn was mine, created all those months ago when I’d spilled in Cataline again and again, thinking naught of it, then the only explanation was because she was my Mate, and I was hers.

I was Maardok the Terrifying, leader of the warriors of Battleborn of Islay, but that dawn, I knelt on the frozen ground, cradling a perfect newborn, and cried alongside him.

Mayhap I would’ve stayed there a few more hours, examining the tiny perfection in my arms, had two things not happened; the wee one began to gnaw on his fist, and I heard Ewan complaining about his hunger to his mother. Damnation, Cataline did not need to fret about something so mundane, so I pressed the bairn to my shoulder and crawled into the tent.

Her eyes were closed, her face pale, but she was occasionally murmuring in response to the five-year-old, so I knew she was awake. She needed to rest, even if she didn’t sleep.

“Good morning, Ewan.” I crouched between them, gently laying the bairn beside his mother, and nudging Cataline onto her side to face the wee one. “Yer brother is as hungry as ye are, I think.”

Cataline shifted herself, reaching for the bairn and tugging down her bodice to bare her breast. I helped as well as I could, bundling part of the blanket for her to rest her head on, and moving the tiny head to rest against her arm.

The bairn’s mouth was so tiny, but he latched onto her pink nipple without any trouble, his little chin working with an instinct older than time. Ewan watched in fascination, keeping up a running commentary.

“Mama says her teats make milk for the babe, just like a cow’s udders. She did it for me too, but I don’t remember. I wonder if the milk tastes good. Does it taste good, baby brother? I think I should try it to find out⁠—”

“Nay, ye shouldnae,” I interrupted him as Cataline’s eyes closed on a blush. “That milk is for yer brother.”

Never mind that I enjoyed tasting her nipples just days ago.

Ewan leaned closer, his big dark eyes wide as he watched the proceedings.

“Is he drinking it all? Is he going to grow up big like me?” His gaze switched to me. “Like you? Is he an orc?”

Cataline’s eyes flashed open, her gaze suddenly looking wary as they shifted to me. I glanced between her and the way Ewan watched me eagerly, then dropped my gaze to the tiny bairn who suckled eagerly.

My son.

One of my hands dropped to rest on Cataline’s hip, the closest place I could reach from where I crouched, even though I wanted to take her in my arms and rock her. Instead, I caressed what I could reach, even as I reached out and tweaked the tiny swaddled foot.

“Aye, son,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “Aye, he’s an orc. Just like me.”

I saw Cataline’s eyes flood with tears before she closed them again, and I wondered about that. My fingers tightened on her hip, trying to share my strength with her.

“And aye,” I continued to answer Ewan, “he’ll grow up to be as big as ye—bigger, gods willing. We’ll have to make certain he is protected until then, together⁠—”

Suddenly a thought caused my words to catch in my throat.

Cataline had intended to only stay in Battleborn Village for the winter, to keep Ewan safe from John. Before, when she’d spoken of leaving in the spring, I’d told myself I would do my best to convince her to stay.

But now?